Crazy for You Page 4

“Really?” Charlotte kept walking toward the back entrance. “You didn’t seem to like my last answer. I’m sorry if I said something wrong. I just forgot what we’d practiced this morning.” She took a cleansing breath. “I’m not used to all of this.”

  Jake stopped beside her, gently gripped her shoulders, and turned her to face him. “I know you aren’t. There was no way to prepare for the flashing lights and invasive questions. I appreciate you doing me this favor.”

  “You’re welcome, Jacob.”

  He let go of her shoulders and laughed. “Jacob?”

  “That’s your name, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah, that’s my name, but everyone calls me Jake.”

  “Well, since I’m your ‘girlfriend,’” she dipped her fingers in air quotes, “I get to call you something else. It’s either Jacob or pookie.”

  Jake’s deep chuckle gave her shivers. On the inside.

  “No pookie.”

  “Love muffin? Oh, I know! Stud muffin.”

  Jake shook his head. “Nothing with food.”

  Charlotte shrugged. “Darn it. I guess honey bunches of oats is out.”

  “That’s definitely out. We have some time. For now, just call me Jacob. I kind of like it coming from you.”

  He likes me calling him Jacob! Charlotte told her inner groupie to settle, but she couldn’t stop the smile from spreading.

  “Where to next, Jacob?”

  “Let’s go to your place. It’s time for me to start my end of the deal.”

  “All right, but be gentle.”

  “Always.”

  • • •

  Charlotte was nervous as she slid the key into the lock. In a few moments, Jake the Great would be stepping into her matchbox apartment. She turned her back to the door. “Before you come in, I need to tell you something.”

  “Are you a serial killer?”

  Her head jerked back at his ridiculous question. “No, I—”

  “Crazy stalker or groupie?”

  That’s debatable when it comes to you. “No, Jacob, that’s not it.”

  He gently moved her away from the door and twisted the key. “Then that’s all I need to know. It’s okay if your apartment isn’t pristine.”

  “Wait!”

  Too late. Jake pushed the door open and stepped into her domain.

  Why, oh, why didn’t I move my embarrassing collection to my room?

  He prowled about the one-bedroom apartment. Heat rose from her cheeks and then rolled through her body. She wanted to curl up in a tight ball like a roly-poly.

  He walked over to her comic book wall of fame. More like shame, now. The vintage covers of famous comic book heroes, from Iron Man and Spider-Man to Wonder Woman and Catwoman, graced her wall. In a pullout Ikea cabinet, hundreds of mint condition comics were lined up on display.

  Pulling out a cabinet shelf, Jake skimmed his long fingers over the covers. He hesitated for a moment and then turned. “May I?” He gestured to the bookshelf.

  Charlotte nodded, her throat dry.

  “I’ve been looking for the first cover of the Christopher Priest Black Panther run. Where did you find this?”

  “On, umm, eBay.” She walked beside him. “You’re a Black Panther fan?”

  “I’m a comic book fan. Used to collect them.”

  “As a kid?” He’d probably grown out of it when he hit his teens. Unlike me.

  “No. Up until I went pro. Haven’t had much time these days.”

  Charlotte’s heart fluttered. She couldn’t believe THE Jacob Ross collected comic books. Or maybe he was just saying that to make her feel better.

  His wandering hands continued to peruse, stopping on a thin gold rope. He picked it up and snapped it against the floor. “Didn’t realize you were so adventurous, angel.”

  Her cheeks broke out in flames. “It’s a lasso.”

  The rope dangled from his hand. “I know you’re from the South, but New York doesn’t have a lot of livestock roaming around.”

  She giggled at his joke. “It’s Wonder Woman’s Lasso of Truth. She’s my favorite.”

  “That’s right. So, if I tie this around you,” he wrapped the rope around her waist, “you have to tell me the truth, right?”

  “Uh huh.” She nodded, breathless from the turn of events.

  Jake tilted his head down, intense eyes on her. “That a promise?”

  Her heart traveled to her ears, beating loudly and recklessly. All she could manage to do was nod.

  He jerked her closer, putting her body flush to his chest. “Why haven’t you had an orgasm?”

  The cobra-like trance he’d had over her vanished. She slow-blinked her eyes. “What?”

  “I asked why you haven’t had an orgasm.” He was louder this time and enunciated each word. “When you bumped your head you said that you didn’t want to die because you hadn’t had an orgasm.”

  Sweet baby Jesus in a manager wrapped in a blanket on top of the hay. Just kill me now, Lord. Create a black hole, and I’ll slide right in.

  “I—”

  “The truth, angel.” Gripping the rope tighter, he pulled her even closer. “Lasso of Truth, remember?”

  She waited for a few beats to see if God would perform the black-hole miracle. No such luck.

  “Right,” she whispered. “I don’t know why I haven’t had one. I just haven’t had much opportunity.”

  “Are you a virgin?”

  “No.”

  Something flashed briefly in his gray eyes. Disappointment?

  “You sure?”

  She was sure. Oh, so pitifully sure. During college, the most popular guy on campus had asked her out. They’d dated for almost a month, and he’d convinced her to take it to the next level because he loved her. She snorted. Yeah, right. Her naïve heart fell for it, and she gave him her virginity. A gift she’d considered sacred. And she’d tried, boy had she’d tried to relax and enjoy herself, but it hurt like hell. What had made the situation worse was that he’d been impatient, so unlike the loving and sweet man she’d gotten to know weeks before. She asked him to stop. He complied, rolled out of bed, and slammed her door shut. The next day he’d dumped her, and told her they didn’t have any chemistry. Later, she’d heard the playboy and his friends had a running bet on deflowering virgins around campus. After that experience, she’d promised herself to never again fall for a man who was so callous with women’s hearts.

  “I’ve had sex only once, but it counts. Well, minus the orgasm. But the penetration part and—”

  “I got it,” he bit off, stepping away and taking the lasso with him. He put it back on the shelf and cleared his throat. “All right, we have a lot to do here. Do you have a notepad?”

  “Sure, I need to get it from my desk. Be right back.” She rushed into the bedroom, heart pounding. What was that?

  Jake must already be feeling the effects of celibacy. That was the only reason to explain the orgasm question. Or maybe he was curious, like a social scientist observing abnormal behavior. Opening a drawer, she grabbed a blue-and-white Wonder Woman notepad and groaned. She could only imagine what he would think about her fangirl stationery.

  She returned to the living room and spotted him in the kitchen, bent over with his tight ass on display as he surveyed her fridge.

  After she’d checked her mouth for drool, she cleared her throat. “I’ve got the paper, Jacob.”

  He popped his head from the fridge and nodded. “Good. We need to make a list and go for a grocery run. Let’s sit down. I want to get a feel of your favorite foods, to make sure you enjoy what I cook you.”

  “You’re really going to cook for me?”

  “It’s not a big deal. I like cooking. I can’t promise to do it every day, especially with the playoffs around the corner, but I’ll prep so you don’t have to do much.”

  “It’s okay. I enjoy cooking. If you show me once or twice, I can figure it out.”

  “All right. Sounds like a plan. Do me a favor and write down you
r favorite meals, broken down by breakfast, lunch, dinner, and snacks.” He pulled off a few pieces of paper from the pad. “And, on one of the pieces of paper, write down your weight.”

  “I don’t think it’s necessary to—”

  “Yes, it is. I want to make sure you lose no more than a pound a week. I’ll also need to take your measurements.”

  Measure my thighs and arms and stomach? Oh heck no!

  “I don’t feel comfortable with you knowing my size. Can you just tell me what I need to do? Don’t worry about how many inches I lose. I’ll tell you how many, but not my measurements.”

  “Deal on the measurements. No deal on the weight. I need to adjust your meal portion according to your size. Now, I can look and figure it out, but I value my life too much to piss you off with an incorrect guess. So,” he pointed his pen at her, “do me a favor and get your ass on the scale.”

  “Fine,” she hissed. “But if you laugh or tell anyone about this, I. Will. Kill. You!”

  “Think of me as your personal trainer-slash-therapist. Everything that goes on here is confidential.”

  Charlotte returned from the bathroom and shoved the small slip of paper into his hand.

  He looked at the weight she wrote in the tiniest script possible. He smiled and tucked the paper into his pocket. “Easy peasy, Charlotte. I’ll get you to your goal in no time.”

  Chapter Five

  “Give me two more, Charlotte.”

  She dropped to her knees, wiping the sweat from her brow. Jake was good on his word, and for the past few weeks, he’d been working her body and her nerves.

  “You got this. Two more push-ups. I’ll do them with you.”

  Please don’t. Huffing, she lowered her body to the floor and struggled to push herself back up. Only ten minutes ago, Jake had her curl ten-pound dumbbells. Arms shaking, she lowered her chest to the floor again. But this time, she collapsed.

  “Good job, Charlotte. Rest up all day tomorrow. Next up is leg day.”

  Rolling over onto her back, she sighed. She had a love-hate relationship with leg day. After an hour and a half of leg presses, curls, and weighted front and back squats, she could barely climb the stairs to her apartment.

  But there were benefits to leg day. Sexy, sweaty benefits. Jake usually stood behind her as they faced the mirror. His intense stormy eyes focused solely on her, chest to her back, as they squatted together. The other day, she’d accidently brushed her butt against his crotch. Not that it meant anything to him. He’d simply stepped back and continued with instructions.

  “Up you go.” Jake offered his hand and hefted her up. “Ready to smile for the camera?”

  The media ate up their “gym dates” as one of the reporters called it. When she’d told Jake about the gym date article, he laughed, and the next day brought her a Pokémon shirt that read “I Only Date Gym Leaders.” Only the truly nerdy would get the message.

  There was definitely more to Jake than being an extremely good-looking, millionaire athlete and it made it harder for her to stick to her plan to guard her heart.

  “Sure.” She smiled at him. “Just let me freshen up, and I’ll be out in five.”

  She hurried to the locker room and changed into a light pullover sweatshirt, then pulled her lip gloss, deodorant, and body spray from her bag. No time for a shower. That gave his fans and the media too much of an opportunity to harass Jake while he waited. The media had also begun to follow her to and from work and had snapped a few pictures of her going out with Melanie and Tiana.

  Lip balm in hand, she paused and stared at herself in the mirror. Just three weeks under Jake’s tutelage, and she could already see results. Despite his desire for her to lose only a pound per week, the weight had dropped drastically. She’d lost twelve pounds. Her face was slimmer, and arms—previously the bane of her existence—were toned. But there was something else, something in her eyes and her spirit that couldn’t be weighed or measured.

  She looked away, too afraid to delve deeper. The dates, dinners, and exercising together . . . just temporary. They only had a relationship because of a deal. One that hinged on a billion-dollar corporation’s decision to finalize the contract and sign him as their celebrity endorsement.

  She didn’t know how long those things could take, but every morning she woke up with a boulder in her stomach, dreading the day she would get the call that her services were no longer needed.

  Shaking her head, she zipped the bag closed and hurried out of the locker room. She looked forward to cooking dinner at his place, something they’d discovered they enjoyed doing together. Afterwards, they would settle down and watch a movie. Usually a shoot-them-up action flick or superhero movie. And then fall into a debate on which character would kick the others’ asses. After a few hours of hanging out, Charlotte would return home. Alone.

  She pushed the door open and smiled when she spotted him leaning against a nearby wall. Her smiled faltered when she saw a gorgeous woman beside him. Charlotte ducked behind the corner and spied.

  “You haven’t called me in weeks, Jake. The twins and I are getting lonely.” The woman twirled her brown twist around her fingers.

  Good gracious. He really does love threesomes!

  “Well you know I’ve been busy. I’m in a relationship now.”

  “Is that right?” She stepped closer and dragged her fingers down his chest. “Because you told me you weren’t the relationship type.”

  A swarm of jelly fish stung Charlotte’s insides and paralyzed her body. He’s not yours. She repeated it to herself. Didn’t help. She took a painful deep breath and stared on.

  “My girlfriend is special.” He took a step back from her hands. “And she doesn’t like other women touching me.”

  That’s right. Back up, lady! A grin split her face.

  “Fine.” The woman shrugged. “I can respect that. But when you’re ready to branch out, call me. You’ve got my number.”

  “I won’t. I’m happy with my girl.”

  The sting of jealousy continued to ease. Charlotte knew she had no right to get upset, but she was happy he was holding up his end of the bargain. She didn’t dare delve into the other reasons for her relief.

  After the woman walked off, Charlotte stepped around the corner and adjusted her attitude.

  “There you are.” Jake leaned in and hooked her waist.

  Her heart sputtered like the dying engine in her dad’s ’78 Chevy. Even in loose basketball shorts and a fitted black tee, the man was still drool-worthy.

  “I was about to go in there and find you. What are you in the mood to eat?”

  “Thai lettuce wraps and a cucumber salad?”

  He kissed her head. “Sounds good, babe. Let’s go to my place.”

  • • •

  “You’re seriously telling me you wouldn’t want another Hulk reboot?” Jake poured olive oil into the pan.

  “No. Heck, no.” Charlotte shook her pretty head. “They’ve tried and failed. I can’t take another disappointing movie. Keep him in The Avengers as part of the ensemble cast but no more flying solo.”

  “But you gotta admit that the last guy . . . ” He snapped his fingers. “What’s his name?”

  “Mark Ruffalo.”

  “Yeah. He did a good job.”

  “He did a great job, but I’m sticking to my guns. No more Hulk movies. It’s going to be another blockbuster disaster. They focus too much on his strength and power.”

  “Well, he is strong.”

  “So, what? There are other more powerful mutants. Look at the Omega levels like Jean Gray, Vulcan, and Iceman. They would so kick his ass. And the Hulk doesn’t even have telekinesis and can’t fly.”

  “Who needs to fly when you can travel to another continent in a single jump?” he argued. “Anyway, we’re talking about the Avengers universe.”

  “Fine, fine. I think Scarlet Witch could kick his ass. And I’m not saying the Hulk isn’t powerful. I’m just saying it’s time for other heroes
to get their due, like Black Panther. And I want to see Luke Cage on the silver screen, too. Oh!” She snapped her fingers. “And the new Iron Man. Or should I say Iron Woman. I love me some Robert Downey Jr., but I’m ready for Riri.”

  Jake was glad Hollywood was finally making black characters the stars of superheroes movies and television. “Can’t argue with that. It’s about damn time we are the heroes and not the sidekick.”

  She hopped onto the marble counter and watched him cook. She looked damn comfortable and sexy in his kitchen. Swinging her legs, she gave him a smile. “So, if you had the choice to have one power, one ability, what would you choose?”

  “Omnipresence.”

  “Omnipresence?” She snorted. “Why? So you can have multiple wives and girlfriends in different dimensions?”

  “Ouch, angel.” He shook his head and lowered the burner heat. “That would require me to be either a cheater or a polygamist. My powers would be too badass to be used to juggle women.”

  “Why omnipresence then?”

  “You’re able to be present in all places at all times. If you’re everywhere at once, it’s impossible to die.”

  “And boring.” Charlotte rolled her eyes.

  “Right letter, wrong word. Badass. Not boring.”

  “You’ve gotta have a weakness.”

  “Okay, what’s your power?”

  “Hmm. It’s a tie between being telepathic, a healer, and invisibility. Actually, I wouldn’t mind controlling the elements like Storm, too.”

  “Choose one. You made the rules.”

  “Healer, I guess.”

  “Why healing?”

  Ticking her head down, she stopped swinging her legs. “So I can save those I love.”

  “That’s a pretty good power.”

  “I know, right?” She smiled and looked away.

  The camaraderie had faded. In its place now sat unease, or was it sadness that had caused her shoulders to droop and her eyes to well with unshed tears?

  The conversation was obviously over when she slid off the counter and walked out of the kitchen. She was trying to pull away, but he wouldn’t let her.

  “Pass me the peanut sauce.” Jake pointed to the cabinet with one hand as he sautéed chicken with the other.