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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All The Right Spots: The Jump Zone Series Book 1
Copyright ã 2003 Lisa Renee Jones
ISBN: 1-55410-053-4
Cover art and design by Martine Jardin
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.
Published by eXtasy Books, a division of Zumaya Publications, 2004
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Chapter One
His mouth went dry just looking at her.
Jennifer Cavender.
His Jennifer.
She sat on a barstool, looking more refreshing than any one of the hundred exotic drinks sold at the Paradise Bar and Grill. After all, he had waited years to see her again. And there she sat, the woman of his dreams.
Still giving off those sweet, innocent vibes that only the girl-next-door types delivered with such precision.
Ah, but he knew better.
The woman—and she was all that and more—was a sexy, demanding she-devil when it came to bedroom games. God, how he had missed her. How had he ever walked away?
They would have married. Should have.
Everything had been perfect. They had been completely head-over-heels in love. Getting enough of each other had been next to impossible. They had spent every waking moment possible together.
Inwardly he smiled, thinking back to their old weekend rituals. Friday nights had always been spent together: they would unwind from the week with some much-needed one-on-one time.
No matter what they had chosen to do, they had enjoyed themselves. Sometimes they would have all night movie marathons. Other times it would be a nice dinner and to bed early. Sleeping with her had been like a reward. He’d considered it the best part of the day. Laughter had always come easily, as had conversation. Often they had talked for hours on end, and then made love for just as long. Sleeping always came in the early morning, which made sleeping late on Saturday a must. When they woke the next morning, they would make love.
At least once.
Often more.
God, how he had loved holding her, and touching her, looking into her light blue eyes, brilliant with passion. In all his life, he had never found anything as sweet as being naked with Jennifer, holding her, and feeling her warmth like a second skin. His eyes drifted shut, remembering how it felt to have her soft flesh pressed against his own.
He wanted to feel her press her body next to his as she melted into him. His fingers itched to be entwined in her long, blond hair and feel it draped over his chest.
He smiled, still reliving one of those Saturdays of the past. When they finally made it out of bed, they would go to Starbucks. They would be there for hours, talking, reading, and drinking far too much coffee.
Jennifer, being wired, would need help working off the caffeine rush. He was glad to help, and would take her back to her place, where they would put that rush to good use. In bed.
In a frenzy, they would discard their clothing, hands all over each other. Compliments of her caffeine high, it was always fast and intense. Then he would slow her down, and love her with slow thoroughness.
He sighed.
They just couldn’t get enough of one another.
A thought occurred to him, and he almost laughed out loud. But not with humor.
They say a man should think with the head between his ears, not the one between his legs. Well, they, whoever the hell they were, had been wrong. The head between his legs had been more astute than his brain about where he belonged, past and present.
He belonged with Jennifer.
And she belonged with him.
It would be tough convincing her he wasn’t the jerk she thought him to be. But he was ready for the challenge. A firm believer in planning and research, he had spent time preparing.
Compliments of their mutual friend Marcie, he knew no one was warming her bed. The thought of another man touching her intimately was pure hell. It had been like a form of torture, miles away in some jungle, thinking about her making love to another man.
Unable to do a damned thing about it.
Time after time, he had convinced himself she was better off without him. He had thrown himself into combat, trying to forget. But it never worked.
With the calm after battle, he always came back to her in his mind.
She’d never gotten serious with another man. If she had, he would have gracefully bowed out, and been happy for her. It would have hurt, but he would have.
But she hadn’t.
A fact he was damned thankful for. Another chance with Jennifer was a blessing he intended to make a reality. Maybe, just maybe, she had never claimed another because they she too clung to the past.
Thankfully, Marcie was still big on girl talk. She had been his one link to Jennifer the entire five years he had been away. Always a plethora of information, Marcie covertly kept an eye on Jennifer for him.
Now that he was older and more mature, he knew leaving hadn’t been the answer. There was no way could you have convinced him to stay five years ago, but that was then, and this was now.
Now he knew he’d been a damned fool.
His decision had been based on his father’s alcohol habit. The night he had enlisted in the Army, he had truly believed he would turn out just like his old man.
A mean drunk.
Jennifer deserved better than that for a husband.
In his heart and mind, he had felt he was doing her a favor. Regret etched his heart with pain. He had simply let years of happiness, time they could have been together, slip away.
All he could do was pray he took the right steps to win her back.
He still loved her. Always had.
There was no doubt in his mind. He still knew how to please Jennifer. He was relieved no one else had figured out how.
Deep down, he knew their incredible chemistry in bed went beyond the physical. It had a lot to do with the unique emotional bond they had shared.
And though Jennifer might have been a she-devil in bed, he knew she was picky about who made it there. Apparently, that hadn’t changed.
His eyes drifted shut as his mind replayed their past lovemaking. Their bodies entwined, skin to skin. Her long, silky hair draped over his chest. The way she came unglued in his hands was like heaven on earth. Those soft little purrs of her pleasure she made…God, they drove him wild.
And he was certain he still knew how to drive her wild.
Yes, he knew all the right spots to touch her, to make her come. But more importantly, he knew how to love her.
It was going to be a rough road to success, but with a little skill, and a lot of determination, he was certain he would win.
He had to; he loved her. And no other woman would do.
Chapter Two
They had never been able to keep their hands off each other.
Marcie was willing to bet the chemistry between Bobby and Jennifer was still so hot it sizzled. O
f course, they would have to get past explosive first. Marcie said a silent prayer. Please let Bobby handle this right. Please.
If it didn’t, and Jennifer found out she knew what he was up to, she would be in deep trouble. Being a close friend to both Bobby and Jennifer stuck her smack in the middle of a dangerous battlefield.
Standing behind the Paradise bar, Marcie nervously set a margarita in front of Jennifer and watched her take a long swallow. She knew she was about to deliver startling news. Mustering her courage, she took a deep breath and dropped her bomb. “Bobby is coming into town for the wedding.”
Jennifer sat down her drink with a loud clunk. Her face held shock, and a hint of pain. “What?” She asked, as if she thought she might of heard wrong.
Marcie just nodded up and down. She knew Jennifer was about to react. Expectantly she waited for the inevitable; Jennifer’s complete, utter displeasure.
Jennifer stiffened at the silent confirmation. “Please tell me you’re joking.”
Marcie felt Jennifer’s anxiety like a jab in the stomach. She hated how torn up over Bobby she was after so many years. But it also confirmed she wasn’t over him. Jennifer and Bobby needed another chance at love. She knew Jennifer wanted it as much as Bobby did. She was just too pig-headed to do it without intervention. What were friends for? It was her responsibility to take care of Jennifer. And she was going to. Even if it caused her some short term pain.
Marcie kept her tone steady, trying to soften the impact of her words. . “I wouldn’t joke about Bobby.”
Eyes full of torment, Jennifer’s tone held a tense edge. “I can’t believe he has the nerve to show up here after being gone for five years.” She paused for a heartbeat, and made an irritated sound. This time pain and bitterness slipped out of hiding and into her voice. “Like he gives a damn, or something.”
Marcie stared at her friend, trying not to get angry. Typical of redheads, she could have a hot temper, especially when feeling defensive as she was now. Bobby was her friend, too, and Jennifer was not being fair.
And damn it, Jennifer loved Bobby.
“He does care,” Marcie proclaimed, and admitted what she shouldn’t have. “I’ve been in contact with him every month of every year.” She paused trying to figure out the best method of getting her point across. Having already said this much, she decided to press forward. Softening her voice, she added, “He worries about you.”
Jennifer stared at her, blue eyes wide. Then she looked away, arms folding in front of her. In a mumbled voice, she said, “Whatever.”
Face twisted in frustration, Marcie’s voice was etched with a hint of impatience. Jennifer was being selfish, and she didn’t like it. “Jenn, I know this is tough for you, but Bobby’s like a brother to me. I’m getting married. Of course he’s going to be here.”
A pregnant silence followed.
* * *
Jennifer’s mind raced with painful memories. She had grown up with Marcie and Bobby, all living within a block of one another. Bobby was the oldest by two years. He had intentionally taken on a big brother role with both her and Marcie.
But time brought with it a mutual attraction between her and Bobby. It danced in the air like an electric charge every time they were near one another. But it was the times that their eyes would meet and lock that had said it all. Those looks would heat her from the inside out.
They both knew how much they wanted each other. But it didn’t seem right. After all, they were friends.
The inevitable happened one Friday night when he drove her home after a party. One minute he was walking her to her front door, the next they were in bed. She didn’t even know exactly how it had happened. She invited him inside, as she had many times. But as she entered the house, he had reached out and caught her, hands on her waist.
Their eyes had locked, their mutual attraction burning hotly. Next thing she knew, they had their hands all over one another. She could almost feel the first touch of his lips, even now. It had been a whisper of a kiss, but, oh so, potent. She had felt it in every inch of her body. Moments later, it had turned to a hungry exploration, hot and sexy. Her fingers raised to her mouth as she replayed those first few moments of intimacy.
Then they dropped with a bitter thought.
A year later, they were in love, and talking marriage. Until that dreaded night when he just up and walked away from her without a backward glance. He had joined the Army without even discussing it with her, callously throwing out all their future plans. The last she had heard from Marcie, he was part of some kind of Special Forces team.
Snapping pulled her out of her reverie. “Hello?” Marcie said.
Shaking herself mentally, Jennifer refocused on Marcie. The bottom line was Bobby was indeed like a brother to Marcie. “I’m sorry,” she said, meaning it. “I know you want him here.” Reaching across the bar, she squeezed Marcie’s arm and plastered on a bright smile that didn’t quite make it to her eyes. “Two short weeks and you’ll be a married woman.”
Marcie had met her husband-to-be, Mark Hancock, the owner of the very successful Paradise Restaurant and Bar only six months before. It had apparently been love at first sight.
Marcie smiled as she glanced across the crowded room at Mark. “Yeah,” she said in the midst of a dreamy sigh.
Mark looked up as if he felt Marcie’s eyes on him and then motioned for her to join him. Obediently, Marcie darted from behind the bar. Jennifer sighed in relief, happy to have a few minutes alone.
Blowing a strand of hair from her eyes, she tried to think rationally. She was older and wiser now. Her career was going strong. Writing had been her dream, and now she had her own column in the San Francisco Times.
Her life had gone on without Bobby. She was successful and happy.
She frowned. Wasn’t she?
Yes. Mentally she firmed her resolve. She wasn’t going to let Bobby’s visit upset her. She would pretend the past didn’t even happen.
She could do this.
Grabbing her purse, she decided she’d go freshen up and return a new woman. A little spray of hairspray, a dab of powder, and she had a new mindset. Her plan intact, she swiveled around on the barstool and started to slide off.
The minute she was on her feet, she was stopped dead in her tracks as she ran smack into a rock-hard chest. She stood stunned for a long moment as strong hands, familiar and warm, settled on her arms. Slowly, her gaze traveled upwards to confirm what her body already knew judging from the instant rush of heat shooting through her veins.
Bobby Evans.
She gulped. Already his spicy male scent, so familiar, so inviting, and so damned arousing, was insinuated into her senses. There was something about his smell that had always drawn her to him and made her hot.
Her eyes traveled from his chest upward. “Bobby?”
His dark brown eyes fixed on her face. “Hey, Jenn.” His voice was a deep baritone, his tone intimate.
It was the same voice he had used when he used to whisper sexy, naughty little things in her ear during lovemaking. A flashback to a few of those moments sent her heart racing.
The things she had done with Bobby.
Who was she kidding? How could she act like nothing had ever happened between them? The man had been more intimate with her than any other had or maybe ever would be.
She took him in like a starving woman would food: with hungry absorption.
Time had served him well. At twenty-eight, he was now a fully developed man. He was bigger, broader, and even more appealing than before. At six feet and several inches, he towered over her five-foot-four frame.
Blond hair, worn short seemed to accent his tan, which he wore well. He wore his tight, black tee even better. She couldn’t look any further down without being obvious. But she wanted to.
His hands still rested on her arms, making her skin tingle, her stomach flip-flop. She grasped for casual conversation, trying to seem unaffected by his nearness. “I’m surprised you’re here so early.
I thought it would be closer to the wedding when you arrived.”
Damn, her voice had quivered enough to be noticeable. It was hard to act unaffected when the fire of an old passion was now awake and burning in every nerve ending of her body.
“I wanted to be here as early as possible.” He didn’t say why and she didn’t ask.
His gaze never left her face as he studied her with such intensity she wanted to scream at him to stop. What did he see? Did she live up to his memories? She didn’t want to care what he thought, but she couldn’t seem to help herself.
He left her. She shouldn’t care what he thought of her. The rawness of a pain so old went against logic. But it was what it was, and she was now face to face with the source.
“How long will you be here?” Inwardly, she cringed. Why had she asked him that?
She searched his expression for a hint of his reaction to both her question, and to seeing her again.
And she found what she was looking for. There was a familiar intimacy in his gaze that touched her heart and her body. There was warmth to their nearness, a subtle sizzle, forcefully demanding her acceptance.
His brow inched up slowly. “Because you want to know how long until I leave, Jenn,” he asked softly, and then paused for a split second, “or you want to know how long I’m staying?”
She knew what he was asking, however oddly he chose to do so…Was she glad to see him?
Yes. No. She didn’t want to be, but she was. Damn it. No! Damn him.
A desperate need to escape, to bolt from his attention, was almost overwhelming. She didn’t want to feel the way she was feeling. He had been with her for only moments, and she felt like ice in front of a fire: wet and melting.
Jennifer wasn’t sure how long it was before he answered. It could have been mere seconds. Her mind wasn’t digesting information properly, for some reason. She looked at his hands on her arms. “I need to go.”
He stared down at her, his eyes willing her to look up at him. She tried to resist the pull, but it was like a magnet, drawing her gaze. When her eyes met his, he said, “I took several weeks of leave.”