Free Jump Start by Lisa Renee Jones

ago.
    He’d said it was about control, but she’d always suspected it was about his father being a drinker. But he’d never talked about it, and shut down when she’d tried. He hadn’t talked about it, she repeated in her mind. He’d never really let her inside. It—they really had been all about sex.
    Several women started chanting at Bobby, “Shirt, shirt, shirt. Take off your shirt.”
    Slowly, Bobby’s gaze lifted to Jennifer’s, and he reached down and took off his boot. Boos followed. He took off a second boot. “That’s all you get,” he said sternly.
    Relief washed over Jennifer. She didn’t have to find out if his feather story would be about her or someone else. She didn’t have to endure sharing a view of that hot, broad chest with the crowd. Her relief, however, was short-lived as the shouts began, “Jennifer is next. Jennifer is next!”
    She ground her teeth. The history between Bobby and herself was far from a secret to many of the long-term friends at the party.
    Before Jennifer could blink, the board and dice were in front of her. Fine. She wanted this over with. She rolled the dice. Seven. Which used to be her lucky number. But it was an odd number. Of course. Not lucky tonight. She had to draw cards. “Truth,” she said, reading the first one. “When was the last time you…” She all but choked. There was no way she was reading the rest of the card or answering the question.
    Marcie grabbed the card and finished for her. “Had an orgasm, and who or what gave it to you?”
    If Jennifer admitted she’d given her last orgasm to herself, last night, Bobby was sure to assume it was while fantasizing about him. Which it was, or had been. And most certainly could be again.
    “Dare,” she said, snatching another card and reading it out loud. “Straddle the person to your right, male or female, while giving them tongue action.”
    “Or strip!” Marcie said. “And no boots like Bobby.” Marcie glared at Bobby. “That was a copout!”
    Jennifer’s heart lurched as she stared at that card, feeling the magnetic pull of Bobby’s stare, as he willed her to look at him. And realizing she didn’t even know who was sitting next to her—that was how fixated she’d been on Bobby. She looked to her right. To the guy sitting next to her who had chin-length brown hair, full lips and deep brown eyes. Good-looking.
    He extended his hand, as if she needed a formal introduction before cramming her tongue down his throat. “David,” he said. “Mark’s college roommate. Feel free to take advantage of me any way you please.”
    Jennifer stared at his hand, realizing she had an opportunity. A way to draw the line in the sand with Bobby. To make it clear she didn’t want, or need, fluffy explanations and conversation. Kissing David would let Bobby know she was over everything between them but the sex. Okay, so maybe, just maybe, a part of her wanted to lash out and hurt Bobby. The way he’d hurt her. Of course, damn him, she doubted she could hurt him. And that hurt her. Jennifer was going to kiss David. She slid her hand into his.



7
    J ENNIFER’S PLAN TO kiss David lasted all of thirty seconds before she was suddenly pulled into Bobby’s strong arms. Anger radiated off him, his voice low, serious, “If you’re trying to piss me off,” he declared, lacing his fingers in her hair, his blue eyes glinting with steel, “it’s working.” His mouth slanted over hers, punishing, hard, full of demand.
    Jennifer told herself not to respond, to shove him away, but the thrust of his tongue against hers, the spicy, primitive taste of him, ignited something inside her. So, instead of resisting, she kissed him back, answering the anger spilling through him, into her, with anger of her own. Kissed him with the kind of passion that could not be bred of mere physical attraction, the kind of attraction formed from an emotional bond, once built, and then torn down. Kissed him with every drop of emotion