Read Online A Little Bit Naughty by Farrah Rochon - Free Book Online
Authors: Farrah Rochon
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the next light. Then he remembered that she no longer lived in the huge white house on Dogwood Drive that she’d shared with Eric.
“Uh, Jada, where exactly are you living now?”
She hesitated for a moment before saying, “The apartment building at the corner of Willow and Fir.”
Mason shot her a quick glance. There wasn’t necessarily any part of Maplesville that was unsavory, but some parts were definitely less desirable than others. To go from living in one of Maplesville’s most established neighborhoods to the part of town where she now lived must have taken some major mental adjusting.
When they pulled into the parking lot of her building, Jada didn’t give him a chance to turn the car off before she was out the door. She had the back door open and was pulling out her travel case by the time he rounded the car.
“I’ve got it,” she said when he went for the case.
Mason ignored her, plucking the handle from her fingers. “Lead the way,” he said.
“You don’t have to do this. The fact that you brought me home is enough.”
Mason pitched his head back and sighed. “Damn, woman, do you get some twisted pleasure out of being this stubborn?”
Her bottom lip trembled with a tremulous smile. She hunched her shoulders, as if to say “Fine, have it your way” and led the way to her second floor apartment. Once they arrived at the door, she turned and reached for the bag. This time he let her take it.
“Thanks again for doing this,” she said.
“You keep thanking me as if I would have left you on the side of the road.”
“I know, I know,” she said. “It’s just that you’re being so nice…and you…you don’t even like me.”
She dissolved into a mess of tears again, dropping the bag and covering her face with both hands.
Mason cursed.
He snatched the keys from her fingers and tried out three before he was able to unlock the front door. He shoved the travel case inside, then wrapped an arm around her shoulders, ushering her into the apartment. As he guided her to the sofa, he looked around, astounded at how damn tiny this place was. A claustrophobic would go insane after two minutes in here.
Once Jada was seated, Mason stooped in front of her and used his thumbs to wipe the moisture from her face.
“Hey, hey,” he whispered, smoothing her hair back. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you there’s no crying in G-Swirl Vibrator sales?”
She choked out a laugh, brushing at her damp cheeks.
Mason tipped her chin up and looked her in the eyes. “You okay?”
“No.” She sniffed, shaking her head. “I hate admitting it, but I’m so not okay.”
His chest tightened with sympathy. He’d never seen her like this before. The Jada Dangerfield he knew was spunky and spirited. To see her lose it like this made him ache for her.
She held her palms up and hunched her shoulders. “I just don’t understand how someone who hates me can be so nice, while someone I was married to just a year ago treats me like dirt.”
Mason grimaced. “I don’t hate you, Jada. Please, stop saying that.”
“But, you do,” she insisted. “We hate each other; always have. That’s just how we roll.” She said it so matter-of-factly Mason couldn’t help but laugh.
“Do you want some water?” he asked.
She nodded.
He walked two steps into her kitchen—it was literally two steps away—and poured a glass of water from one of those water-filtration pitchers. He brought her the glass, then went into the bathroom in search of a washcloth.
He grabbed one from a wire shelf that stood over the toilet and soaked it with warm water. As he rung out the washcloth, Mason caught sight of something black and lacy sitting on top of the heap of laundry in the clothes hamper.
“Holy shit,” he choked out.
He braced his hands against the sides of the sink and sucked in a deep breath. How in the hell did he end up in Jada Dangerfield’s bathroom, just inches from her black lace panties? How in the hell was
“Uh, Jada, where exactly are you living now?”
She hesitated for a moment before saying, “The apartment building at the corner of Willow and Fir.”
Mason shot her a quick glance. There wasn’t necessarily any part of Maplesville that was unsavory, but some parts were definitely less desirable than others. To go from living in one of Maplesville’s most established neighborhoods to the part of town where she now lived must have taken some major mental adjusting.
When they pulled into the parking lot of her building, Jada didn’t give him a chance to turn the car off before she was out the door. She had the back door open and was pulling out her travel case by the time he rounded the car.
“I’ve got it,” she said when he went for the case.
Mason ignored her, plucking the handle from her fingers. “Lead the way,” he said.
“You don’t have to do this. The fact that you brought me home is enough.”
Mason pitched his head back and sighed. “Damn, woman, do you get some twisted pleasure out of being this stubborn?”
Her bottom lip trembled with a tremulous smile. She hunched her shoulders, as if to say “Fine, have it your way” and led the way to her second floor apartment. Once they arrived at the door, she turned and reached for the bag. This time he let her take it.
“Thanks again for doing this,” she said.
“You keep thanking me as if I would have left you on the side of the road.”
“I know, I know,” she said. “It’s just that you’re being so nice…and you…you don’t even like me.”
She dissolved into a mess of tears again, dropping the bag and covering her face with both hands.
Mason cursed.
He snatched the keys from her fingers and tried out three before he was able to unlock the front door. He shoved the travel case inside, then wrapped an arm around her shoulders, ushering her into the apartment. As he guided her to the sofa, he looked around, astounded at how damn tiny this place was. A claustrophobic would go insane after two minutes in here.
Once Jada was seated, Mason stooped in front of her and used his thumbs to wipe the moisture from her face.
“Hey, hey,” he whispered, smoothing her hair back. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you there’s no crying in G-Swirl Vibrator sales?”
She choked out a laugh, brushing at her damp cheeks.
Mason tipped her chin up and looked her in the eyes. “You okay?”
“No.” She sniffed, shaking her head. “I hate admitting it, but I’m so not okay.”
His chest tightened with sympathy. He’d never seen her like this before. The Jada Dangerfield he knew was spunky and spirited. To see her lose it like this made him ache for her.
She held her palms up and hunched her shoulders. “I just don’t understand how someone who hates me can be so nice, while someone I was married to just a year ago treats me like dirt.”
Mason grimaced. “I don’t hate you, Jada. Please, stop saying that.”
“But, you do,” she insisted. “We hate each other; always have. That’s just how we roll.” She said it so matter-of-factly Mason couldn’t help but laugh.
“Do you want some water?” he asked.
She nodded.
He walked two steps into her kitchen—it was literally two steps away—and poured a glass of water from one of those water-filtration pitchers. He brought her the glass, then went into the bathroom in search of a washcloth.
He grabbed one from a wire shelf that stood over the toilet and soaked it with warm water. As he rung out the washcloth, Mason caught sight of something black and lacy sitting on top of the heap of laundry in the clothes hamper.
“Holy shit,” he choked out.
He braced his hands against the sides of the sink and sucked in a deep breath. How in the hell did he end up in Jada Dangerfield’s bathroom, just inches from her black lace panties? How in the hell was
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