Page 1 of Fighting Jacob

Chapter One

Jacob

I’m sitting in my Dodge Charger at a T intersection, waiting for the light to turn green when a pair of stunning legs catches my eye. I can’t see much of the hot mess cursing at the bus schedule tacked to a pole near the bus stop, but her scarcely concealed thighs are sparking enough interest out of me to offer a stranger a ride home. Her legs are intensely hot, and I’ve always been a legs man—especially when there’s a possibility of them being curled around my head.

“Do you need a lift?”

When she peers past the pole, a grin curls on my lips. She’s a fucking stunner. Curly caramel hair, a straight, although slightly curved-at-the-tip nose, and lips that have my cock notching up as high as my pulse. Add those features to the mischievous glint in her eyes, and I’m confident she isn’t standing at a bus stop this late at night for virtuous reasons.

After cocking her brow, the sassy blonde drags her teeth over her bottom lip. Her hot pink lipstick is the same color as her halter-neck top. It’s sparkly and glossy, as dazzling as the stars filling the almost midnight sky.

When she notices my perusal of her body, her hellion insides shine, freeing me to say, “I don’t bite... much.”

With a wink that exposes she heard my mumbled comment, her eyes stray back to the bus schedule. If she’s looking for a way out of a conversation, she’s shit out of luck. The last bus left nearly ten minutes ago. How do I know this? I’ve been a Ravenshoe local all my life. Before I got my license, I knew the bus schedule as intimately as the back of my hand.

I glance into my rearview mirror when a honk bellows through the somewhat quiet night. The old geezer sitting behind me is unimpressed I’ve ignored the traffic lights’ switch to green. I noticed its change, but I’m not going anywhere until the blonde bombshell answers my question. A wink isn't a yes, but it isn't a straight-up "no" either. Furthermore, there's plenty of space for him to go around; he just needs to stop sniffing my keister to figure it out.

When he honks again, my foot gets friendly with my accelerator. I smirk when my revs startle him enough to stop riding my ass. He reverses before skidding past me like he’s outrunning cooties.

Grinning in victory, my gaze floats back to the hot mess at my side. Her eyes are bouncing between me and the tire marks the car behind me left on the road surface. I assume my lack of respect will have her backing away with her hands held in the air, so you can imagine my surprise when she mumbles, “All right,” before rounding my hood and slipping into the passenger seat.

She mumbles an address in a town I’ve only heard of once before fixing her seat belt into place. I take a few moments to relish her floral scent before my foot becomes chummy with the gas pedal. As I weave between the traffic of my hometown, from the corner of my eye, I stalk my new companion. Her pupils are the size of dinner plates, but the seductive curl of her lips reveals she loves the adrenaline she’s getting from my speed.

Her smile has me pushing my car to its absolute limit. I go way over the designated speed limit, making the cars surrounding us blur like her off-the-scales sexiness is blurring my mind. Most blonde bombshells have the standard blue-eyes combination. This girl throws those statistics out of the park. Her eyes are a light brown, as gleaming as the exposed skin high on her thighs. Her sexiness slams into you, meaning she won't just leave you breathless; you'll have drool pooling in the corner of your lips as well.

When an upcoming traffic light turns red, we grind to a halt. With a slanted head and my interest unconcealed , I introduce myself. "Jacob. Nice to meet you...?”

Her nose crinkles at my pathetic attempt to ignite a conversation, but she plays along. “Lola.”

Why am I not surprised her name is as seductive as her face? Probably because everything about this girl is dynamite. Her voice... if I wouldn’t have her looking at me like a creep, I’d tug on my dick, begging for it to calm down. I offered her a ride home, not a ride on my cock.

I’m known for getting a little friendly too quickly with the opposite sex, but this is different. For one, Lola isn’t fawning over me, begging for my attention. If I hadn’t caught the occasional glance my way beneath thick lashes, I’d be worried she didn’t like what she sees. Two, she gives off a vibe she isn’t to be messed with.

That makes me even more interested.

I love girls with sassy tongues and strong backbones. They usually have that whip-smart edginess that keeps things interesting. The thrill of the chase is always exciting, but once it fizzles, so does my interest. I don't see that being an issue with Lola.

When the light switches to green, I stop scanning Lola’s too-hot-to-handle body to return my eyes to her face. She shoots me a flirty look, making me aware she saw my scan of her body, but she’s not bothered by it.

One point for Jacob!

I plant my foot on the gas pedal but don't floor it like I did earlier. I need a few more minutes to ensure I'm picking up the right signals from Lola. I'm not a pro at understanding the signs women regularly throw out, but I've learned a few tricks in my almost twenty-two years on this planet. Such as, she isn't biting her lower lip because she is nervous—she's teasing me, knowing I'd give anything to replace her teeth with my own, and the faint press of her thighs isn’t solely due to the healthy rumble of my engine. She feels the chemistry brewing between us just like I do.

After taking a left down a familiar street, my eyes stray from the road to Lola. “What were you doing in Ravenshoe this late at night? You’re not here for the clubs because those aren’t dancing shoes.” I quickly drop my eyes to her sexy-ass shoes before returning them to the road. “And you’re not drunk because you don’t have the slightest gleam in your eyes.” Except for the one that exposes your hellion insides. “So why are you here so late on a Saturday night? You weren’t on a date, were ya?”

Please say no. Please say no.

“If I was, would your offer of a ride home become null and void?”

"Not at all." My eyes stray from the road to her. "I'd simply ask for his name, so I could tell him how much of an idiot he is. If you were my date, I'd never let you out of my sight, much less my car."

Lola laughs. “I love that you think he had a choice.” Her laughter dies down when she realizes I’m not following what she’s saying. “He didn’t let me out of his car, Jacob. I let myself out.”

“You let yourself out?”

She nods. “Yep. He wanted something I wasn’t willing to give him, so I left. Plain and simple.”

My grip on the steering wheel tightens when I hear something she didn't mean to express. "He didn't hurt you, did he?"

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