Man Hungry Read online

  Man Hungry

  Sabrina York

  Blind dates are hell. At least that’s what Justin thinks before he’s set up with Jessica, a sizzling-hot schoolteacher who captures his heart—or at least his lust—at first sight. He can’t let their date fail so he does what any sane, rational prankster would do—he pretends he’s there to meet someone else. A man-hungry schoolmarm.

  Jessica knows full well that Justin is her date, so she decides to have a little fun and show him exactly how man hungry a “schoolmarm” can be. And Jessica’s hunger is all for Justin. On the dance floor, atop a table, up against a door…she just can’t get enough.

  A Romantica® erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave

  MAN HUNGRY

  Sabrina York

  Dedication

  This story is dedicated to Carrie Jackson, who is always patient and kind and hardly ever minds when I repeat repeat my words words.

  Chapter One

  “You’ve got to save me.”

  Jessica blinked as the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen slipped into her booth and grabbed her hand. She barely registered the intrusion. His grasp was that warm.

  “I beg your pardon?” She lifted her voice above the blare of the band. It was a country band and a country bar—not her preference but a girl had to do what a girl had to do to meet a decent guy.

  “Please. You look like a compassionate soul.” His crooked grin, ringed as it was by a scruffy beard, made rivulets of excitement trickle down her spine, as did the tantalizing dent in his chin. His eyes, large and brown and fringed with long, thick lashes, glinted with humor. A deep dimple sliced through one cheek. His Stetson, from which dark curls erupted, was tipped at a jaunty angle. He batted his lashes—a move that frankly should be against the law. “Can’t you find it in your heart to save me?”

  His Dallas drawl made her mouth water—she’d always had a thing for cowboys with dented chins—but she stiffened her spine against his appeal.

  She did not need another puppy dog lover. She’d had enough of those in her life. That’s why she was here. To meet her friend Penny’s staid, stick-in-the-mud lawyer cousin. A guy she could have a future with. Who liked country music. And country bars.

  He was probably a Republican.

  Good. She hoped he was.

  She hoped he was a grown-up as well.

  Nope. No more puppy dogs for her. She’d made an oath. And she was bone-tired of cleaning up their messes on the carpet. Against her will, her lips twitched. She did love those puppy dogs. And this one was damn cute.

  She cleared her throat. It was clogged with arousal. “Save you from what?”

  Her cute cowboy slash puppy dog shot a look around the crowded bar and hunkered lower like an outlaw hiding from the sheriff. “The dreaded man-hungry spinster.”

  A laugh bubbled through her. As pickup lines went, at least his was original. And entertaining. She lifted her beer to disguise her amusement.

  “Oh. Sorry.” His gaze danced back to hers. “I meant to say the dreaded man-hungry spinster schoolmarm.” He offered a charming, self-effacing grin.

  Jessica stilled, bottle halfway to her mouth. She was a spinster schoolmarm. Well, an unmarried teacher at least. Close enough.

  The cowboy leaned in. His warm breath skated across her cheek. It was all she could do not to nestle right up against him. Melt, maybe. “Just dance with me. Please? One dance before I have to resign myself to the misery of a blind date?”

  Jessica’s belly lurched. “You’re meeting a blind date?”

  Oh. Crap. So was she. She was a spinster schoolmarm here to meet a blind date.

  Oh. He couldn’t be Justin. Could he? She narrowed her focus on his face, nearly distracted by the lazy droop of his lids, the full lips, his scent as it wafted toward her every time he moved. He didn’t look like the guy in the tux down the line from Penny in her wedding photo, the guy with the short-cropped hair and formal posture.

  The stodgy lawyer.

  Her attention snagged on his jawline and a shiver raced through her. She had a thing for a hard, square, dented chin. Yeah, his hair was longer, he was definitely scruffy and he was dressed in a very unlawyerlike long-sleeved t-shirt, jeans and cowboy boots. But she’d recognize that chin anywhere.

  “Ho yeah.” He nodded and an unruly curl escaped onto his forehead. “My cousin’s friend.” He sent her a pleading look. “Did I mention she’s a schoolteacher?”

  Certainty stirred in her gut—along with the little demon of mischief that lived there. He was Justin, her date.

  He just didn’t know it.

  Oh, this was going to be fun.

  “I believe you did mention she was a schoolteacher.” And a man-hungry one at that. “But if you’ve never met her, how do you know you won’t like her?”

  He sobered. Their gazes tangled. “I might like her. But not as much as I like you.”

  Crap. That good-looking and charming? Maybe this was a bad idea after all. A guy like this could crush her…if she let him. She snorted. “You don’t know me, mister.”

  He scooted closer until his hard thigh met hers. Heat branded her. “I’d like to.” It was a whisper but she heard it over the cacophony. It sank into her soul. Softened her. He thrust out a hand, a slightly awkward move since they were sitting so close. “I’m J.”

  Without thinking, she slipped her fingers into his grasp, reveling in the rough scrape of his palm against hers.

  She’d met a lot of guys in bars like this, endured countless pick-up attempts. But she’d never been tempted to take them up on it. Until now. She was attracted to this guy on a visceral level. The power of that pull should scare her but it didn’t.

  “Jay as in Jason?” A leading question, sure, but she had to ask.

  He shook his head. Curls tumbled. His dimple blossomed. “J as in the letter. All my friends call me J.” He stroked her with his thumb. Only a small swipe over her knuckles but it set off an explosion along all her nerve endings. All of them. Her clit twitched.

  They sat close together in the curving booth in the alcove. It was almost as though they were alone. Almost as though they were alone in a secret bower.

  “What do your friends call you?” His voice was a low rumble.

  She gazed into his eyes. He looked earnest and sweet and…hungry. She hated leading him on like this, teasing him.

  Ah, who was she kidding? She loved it. Yeah, she should tell him her name. But that would end all the fun.

  She bit back a grin. “As it happens, my friends also call me J.” It was true. They did.

  “Get out!”

  “Seriously.” She laughed at his expression—and then his expression changed. She stopped laughing. There was nothing funny about the look on his face. “What?”

  His Adam’s apple worked as he stared at her. His fingers tightened on her just a tad. “God. I love that sound.”

  “What sound?”

  “Your laughter.”

  She laughed again, this time a sputtered burst of embarrassment. “It’s just a laugh.”

  “Yeah, but a melody.” He shifted as though something in his jeans needed rearranging. “I love a woman who embraces life. That was the laugh of a woman who throws her arms wide and just takes it all in.”

  Jessica swallowed. Looked away. Damn, he was perfect. He looked fantastic, smelled amazing and when he opened his mouth, all the right little words fell out. She wondered for a moment if she had accidently stepped into an alternate universe. A universe where things went right for her.

  He leaned closer. Still holding on to her hand, he slipped his other arm under the table and settled his warm palm on her thigh. Again with the thumb. It was all she could do not to melt into a puddle. Right then and there. “Are you that woman, J?”
>
  God, she wanted to be. But she could hardly let him see the truth of it. Not now. Not yet. So she swallowed that ache with another swig of her beer and offered him a nonchalant one-shouldered shrug. “Sure.”

  “Then dance with me.” He tugged on her sleeve.

  She resisted. Not because this was suddenly too intense, too soon. Not because the thought of being in his arms made her want to dissolve into a puddle on the floor. Certainly not because the ghosts of bad relationships past were singing a discordant operetta in her head.

  Really.

  She forced a smile and drew up her shield. It was hewn of snarky humor and was practically impenetrable by the thrust and parry of male charm. Oh, and this one? He was a charmer. She could smell it.

  “I can’t dance with you, cowboy. What about your date? Some poor blind woman—sorry, some poor man-hungry, blind spinster schoolmarm—sitting alone at a table, desperately waiting for her Prince Charming to arrive?”

  “She’ll just have to live her life without me.” His grin was infectious.

  Oh dear. Jessica felt her bulwarks weaken.

  He batted his lashes again, causing an answering flutter in her womb. And then he said it. The one word that swept her defenses away like a sandcastle against the incoming tide. “Please, darlin’?”

  It was the “darlin’” that got her. She was a sucker for a man who dropped a “g” when he begged. Hell, she was a sucker for a man who begged.

  Who tipped his head to the side.

  Who gazed at her with enormous soulful eyes.

  Who put out a lip.

  She tried not to imagine what she would like to do to that lip.

  He tugged again and this time she followed. She followed him out of the booth and onto the dance floor. She didn’t have a clue what song was playing. She was only aware of him. His body. His warmth.

  And God, he was tall.

  “We shouldn’t be doing this.” She said it more to herself, but he answered.

  “Oh yes.” A purr. “We should.” He faced her on the dance floor, tipped up her chin. They were so close she could make out each little hair on his shadowed jaw. So close. Too close. A sudden panic flicked through her.

  “But what about your date?”

  “What about her?” He pulled her into his arms, against him. The shock of it—his hardness, his heat, the electricity that shot through her as they melded from chest to groin—nearly incapacitated her.

  “She’s blind.” As usual, she made a joke to disguise her discomfort. She loved tall men. And this guy, maybe a little too much.

  “No worries.” He chortled. The reverberation thrummed through her, his breath danced over her cheek. “We’ll get her a dog.”

  He spun her around then and it was like the centrifugal force, the sheer elation of the movement, pulled out all her trepidation and flung it to the wind. She laughed out loud, a full-throttled spurt of glee. God, she loved being in his arms. The way he surrounded her with his warmth. Held her tight. She loved the look in his eye, the feel of his palm on her lower back. And his chin. At eye level, it was a temptation she couldn’t resist.

  As the music flowed around them, as their bodies twined, she leaned closer, tipped up her mouth and tasted him. Just tasted him. The skin of his chin, the soft bristles of his scruffy beard, the hard line of bone beneath. Heaven.

  He froze. Stopped right there on the dance floor, oblivious to the other couples bumping into them. He froze and stared at her. His nostrils flared and he yanked her closer, held her even tighter.

  A thrill shot through her as an indisputably hard bulge bit into her belly. And surged.

  “Did you just lick me?” His tone was laced with mock outrage but laughter and lust danced in his eyes.

  “Maybe.” She rubbed against him in a very deliberate fashion and he paled. The jaw she found so irresistible clenched. He glanced around and then drew her back into the dance. She couldn’t help but notice he was twirling her toward the rear of the bar. She let him.

  She’d had a taste. One tantalizing taste. She wanted more.

  He danced her into the shadows and then backed her against the wall, crowding her with his big body. “It’s not fair,” he murmured, framing her cheeks with large hands.

  “What?” Her question was strangled by the anticipation clogging her throat. “What’s not fair?”

  “You’ve tasted me.” His gaze burned into hers. “I haven’t tasted you.”

  His lips when they touched hers, rasped against hers, were like liquid fire. Sensation swamped her. His scent surrounded her. He made a little growling sound and deepened the kiss, pressing his mouth over hers, molding her, sucking her soul. His tongue, sensuous and slick, dabbed at the crease of her mouth and pressed in.

  Showers of delight trickled through her veins. Her nipples, tender and hard, throbbed. Her womb flowered, wept. Every nerve awoke and sang.

  She opened to him. Tangled her tongue with his. He drew it into his mouth and sucked. Her knees buckled but he caught her before she fell.

  “God, you’re sweet. You taste so sweet.”

  She moaned in mute denial as his lips left hers. They made their way along her cheek to her earlobe and down her neck, leaving a trail of goose bumps in their wake. He found the spot—that electrifying spot—just above her shoulder and nuzzled her. Her moan turned into a groan of absolute delight. She clutched at him mindlessly as he feasted, sending rain upon rain of pleasure scudding through her.

  Had she ever felt this way for a man? A man she’d just met? He had her mindless and limp with just one kiss.

  If she weren’t convinced he was Justin—her date—she might have had some serious reservations about fucking an absolute stranger. But knowing this was Penny’s cousin, not some random gigolo, swept her qualms away with the weight of a tsunami.

  She wanted him, and she wanted him badly. Unable to resist the urge—and uncaring to do so—she pressed against his cock. It throbbed.

  He hissed out a breath. A muscle bunched in his cheek. “Come home with me.”

  Jessica swallowed. She went up on her toes and nibbled the underside of his chin once more. She couldn’t not. God. She could do that all night—for a lifetime, perhaps. A frightening thought but an exciting one as well. “What about your blind girlfriend?”

  He pulled back and fixed her with a dark look. “I don’t see anyone but you.” The words were accompanied by the delightful drift of his thumbs over her nipples, both of them, a tandem torment.

  She would have said something—something pithy and clever—but her brain had short-circuited. There was nothing going on in there but random neurons firing off like fireworks of cascading delight.

  “Come home with me.” He kissed her again, sucking and nuzzling and teasing her sanity. “I live a block away. We can walk. We can be there—in private—in less than a minute.” His voice lowered. “Sooner if we run.”

  She riffled the soft cotton of his t-shirt. Found a hard button to tease as well.

  He threw back his head. “J-Jesus, that feels good. Come on…J. Come home with me.”

  “A whole block away?” She dipped her head and sucked on his nipple, making a wet spot on his shirt. Then she glanced up at him with a wicked grin. “I don’t think I can wait that long.”

  The expression that flashed across his face was nearly comical. Nearly. It was pained and desperate and determined. Without a word, he towed her toward the door.

  Chapter Two

  His place was a loft on the top floor of a ritzy building with a view of the Dallas skyline. That nearly stole her breath but not as much as the man behind her. He shut the door and molded himself against her back, spreading his palms over her abdomen.

  He kissed her neck. “Would you like a drink?”

  A sudden, unfamiliar unease crawled in her belly. Going home with a guy she’d just met was hardly her style. It made her the kind of woman she didn’t want to be. She lived her life with a no-regrets philosophy but for some reason
found herself grappling with this.

  She appreciated his finesse, giving her time to adjust, to ease into this tryst. He could have leaped upon her immediately. She would have allowed it. Probably.

  “I’d love a beer. Lone Star if you have it.”

  He chuckled and headed for the fridge. “Of course I have it.”

  While she waited for him to return, she scoped out his living room. It was lush and richly appointed, with a fat overstuffed leather couch and a heavy wood-plank coffee table. It was done in a Western motif, casual but elegant. It spoke of a man who valued his comfort.

  She wandered over to the mantel and studied the framed photographs littering the shelf. Nearly every one was a group shot. Most of exotic locales, capturing Justin and his friends in some adventurous pursuit. Deep-sea fishing, rappelling from a cliff, skydiving.

  Her gaze landed on a familiar photo. It was, in fact, the wedding photo Penny had shown her to get her to agree to go out with her cousin. Certitude—and satisfaction—surged. She was right. He was Justin—

  “Here you go.”

  She jumped a little as his voice, from right behind her, startled her. She took the beer he proffered, trying not to wince when his fingers brushed hers. It had been a short walk from the bar to his apartment. A shorter elevator ride. Her arousal had banked but the flame had not gone out. “Your place is gorgeous.”

  He grinned. “Thanks. I didn’t decorate it.”

  “You didn’t?”

  “My cousin is a frustrated designer. I let her do it.” Yeah. Jessica thought she saw Penny’s touch here. “If it were up to me there’d be a couple crates and a cardboard box over there.” He waved to the dining table. “And a beanbag chair in here.”

  Jessica took a draw on her beer. “Mmm. Classy with a K.”

  “No kidding. Don’t get me started on the bedroom.” She couldn’t help but quirk a brow and Justin laughed. “Oh, there’s a bed in there.”

  “Not a waterbed, I hope.”

  “Hey, baby. Nothing soft and floppy in my bedroom,” he joked right back. She liked that he could joke right back. He nodded to the sofa. “Want to sit down?”