Owned by Fate (Serve #1)(36)

Some of the tension drained from his body, but most of it stayed. The picture she’d unwittingly painted of her stretched out on a couch in pajamas made him wish like hell they were in the same room. “What’s today’s secret ingredient?”

“Mangos,” she answered, clearly not pleased. “Why are you calling, Jonah? I’m not agreeing to any more sightseeing trips around the city.”

His jaw tightened at her brisk dismissal. The fact that she clearly wanted nothing to do with him. God, if she were standing in front of him, he would prove her ten kinds of wrong. “Be that as it may, you might want to get down here. Your friend, the one who accompanied you the first night, is here. She’s had a lot to drink and—”

“What? Eliza?”

“I don’t know her name—”

He could hear her running. “Th-the blond Alexis Bledel look-alike.”

“—nor do I know who that is.” He laughed under his breath. “What is with you and matching people up with celebrities?”

A door slammed. “I don’t know. Just a nervous habit or something.”

“Who am I?” Jonah asked curiously, enjoying the fact that in her distracted state, she wasn’t weighing and measuring every word that came out of her mouth.

“Um…you? You stumped me for while.”

“But?”

“A young Marlon Brando. Circa On the Waterfront.”

Jonah’s lips edged into a smile. In the background, he could hear the unmistakable sounds of New York City traffic.

“I’m getting into a cab now. Be there in a few.”

“Be safe.”

“Hmm.” She called out Serve’s location to the cab driver. “And Jonah? Thank you.”

He kept the phone to his ear a full minute after she’d hung up.

…

A security guard met Caroline outside of Serve and led her through the writhing bodies on the dance floor to Jonah’s private elevator. She rode it alone, cringing at how her ancient gray T-shirt and faded black leggings looked in the harsh fluorescent light. In her haste to leave the apartment, she hadn’t bothered to change, nor had she paid attention to which footwear she’d jammed her feet into.

“Nice galoshes, idiot,” she muttered to herself. “Expecting rain?”

Her worry for Eliza had eclipsed any nervousness about seeing Jonah again, but as the elevator climbed higher, she couldn’t calm her racing pulse. Thoughts of him had plagued her relentlessly since the last time she’d seen him. Hot, naughty, indecent thoughts that made her clothes feel restricting, made the water from her shower feel sensual instead of functional. When he’d called earlier, she almost hadn’t answered. Afraid one word from him would send her running to Serve for more of what he could do. In a way, she’d been right, but she’d never expected the reason for his call.

Caroline started as the elevator door slid open to reveal Jonah. To the right of his apartment door, he leaned against the wall, arms crossed, eyes trained on her. His white shirt had been rolled up to his elbows, a day’s growth of beard on his chin. He was the embodiment of a hungry male. Her thighs felt like they were being squeezed lightly in that ticklish spot just above the knee. And that almost giddily aroused feeling spread up her legs to her tummy, where it whipped into a tight whirlpool of need.

“Hi.”

Jonah didn’t answer, simply opened his apartment door and indicated that she should precede him inside. He stood so close that Caroline was forced to brush against him as she passed, a low rumble from his throat nearly causing her to combust. Holy shit was her most prevalent thought. Her attraction to him before they’d had sex paled in comparison to this overwhelming impulse to wrap her legs around him and ride him for everything she was worth. When she made the mistake of looking him in the eye, Jonah made a hungry noise, raking her from head to toe with a blistering glance.

“Baby.”

Oh, boy.

Focus! You’re here for Eliza.

“Where is she?” Caroline asked briskly, finding the strength to move past him.

“Couch.”

Her brow knit in concern when she saw her friend sprawled out on Jonah’s black suede couch, completely passed out. Beside her on the coffee table, a cup of coffee still steamed. Something in her heart turned over at that gesture, presumably made by Jonah, but she quickly discarded that reaction.

“What was she thinking?” Caroline said, more to herself than anything. “She usually tells me everything.”

“No one tells anyone everything.”

She turned. “That’s pretty cynical.”

“It’s the truth.” He raised an eyebrow. “Did you tell her you came here Tuesday night?”

“Yes, but only in case I was never heard from again.” When something she couldn’t name flashed across his face, Caroline shook her head. “That was a joke.”

Jonah turned and walked to the kitchen. “I don’t think she’ll wake up any time soon. You might as well have a cup of coffee.”

Caroline hesitated to leave her best friend, but a soft snore made the decision for her. Jonah was right. No way could she get a comatose Eliza downstairs and out of the club without drawing a lot of attention. She had a feeling her friend wouldn’t appreciate her snoring form being carried out of Serve and stuffed into a cab. In front of hundreds of onlookers, no less. Even so, time spent with Jonah was a danger to her sanity. She’d made up her mind not to see him again, knowing nothing could be allowed to come of it. Not even more exploration of their physical connection. Tonight, though, with him looking like a sex-mussed playboy, that hard-won resolve would inevitably weaken.