He's Mine Not Hers

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He's Mine Not Hers Page 9

by Gianni Holmes


  So even though I didn’t have an entire auditorium of kids cheering me on like Bruce, I took up my fork.

  “What’s in the teacup? It looks like coffee, but it isn’t.”

  “It’s chocolate tea from Jamaican cocoa. My stepmother has them shipped here.”

  I shook my head as I reached for the cup, this time not making the mistake of cooling before I sipped. A couple of sips later, I was all mellowed as I gave him my nod of approval. “Whatever pounds I put on after tonight is so worth it.”

  “Come on. Try the pudding. I still think it’s not quite as good as my stepmom’s, but it’s getting there.”

  I did more than try the corn pudding. I ate everything, then washed it down with the chocolate tea, and when I finished, I wanted to expire on his couch.

  “Good?” he asked.

  I groaned. “Good luck with keeping me away after this. I’ll be stopping by randomly for dinner. Just so you know.”

  He laughed. “I can’t promise I’ll cook for you every night, but as long as you’re coming by to check that I haven’t thrown your cat in the washing machine yet, I can always have a plate waiting for you.”

  Our eyes locked, and I sensed stupid words were going to roll off my tongue, but I couldn’t stop myself. I’d had dinner at his place several times with Becca there. This was the first time I was eating here alone though, and it felt nice for it to be just us.

  Miss Puss purred.

  And the cat. Us and the cat.

  “You know this is why I think of you as Daddy Luke,” I told him, then hurried to finish before he could cut me off. “You always take such good care of me. Always. Even when I was in London. You think I didn’t know half the time Becca sent me money to get by that it came from you?”

  He plucked Miss Puss from the sofa and placed the cat in his lap as if he feared if his lap was vacant, I would end up there. Like last time. My cat was purring against him, and the envy was real.

  “Once again, Jason, you’re mistaking my kindness in helping out a friend to be way more than it is. You’re Becca’s son. She’s my closest friend.”

  I sighed, wanting to argue with him until he accepted it. That kiss the other night was sure as hell nothing. Unless he went around kissing people like that, and I for one refused to believe it. I didn’t take him for a virgin, but dammit, that kiss had to be special.

  “How come you only talk about your stepmom?” I asked, changing the subject.

  He relaxed against the back of the couch, and I felt better that I had chosen to do the right thing. Not harangue him to death with the way I felt about him. Once upon a time I wouldn’t have stopped until I got his attention, but I was more cognizant of his feelings. Whatever did that mean for me?

  “Because my father’s not worth mentioning,” he replied, stroking Miss Puss tenderly. My cat was a damn hussy and a tease too, turning over onto her back and stretching into every caress. “I haven’t spoken to him in years.”

  “Bad blood?”

  “He’s a damn bigot who believes this is a man’s world, and I didn’t fit into his definition of a man.”

  “Oh, he doesn’t like that you’re bi?”

  He laughed, the sound bitter, and I worried I shouldn’t have brought up the topic. “Oh, he likes to remind me how much he accepts me the way I am, as if he should be getting a medal for it. His love comes with many conditions, like he only supported me going to culinary school if I did a degree in management as well. I complied, but I just couldn’t accept the final requirement of his love.”

  “That’s horrible.” And explained so much now about Lucas. I’d never thought to find out more about him before, and I felt slightly ashamed now. If I didn’t know something like this, how could I be sure I was in love with the man? Yet, the more I found out about him, the more enamored I became of him.

  “Then what would you think of him demanding that I marry and join the family business before I could see a cent of my inheritance? I chose to walk away from it all, but I’m sure he’s gloating now after me being fired from the restaurant.”

  “Surely he wouldn’t be so cruel.”

  He snorted. “You haven’t met Lucas Bronte Sr. as yet, boy.”

  The way he said boy sent a shiver down my spine and a lump to my throat, but I swallowed it. I could show him that I wasn’t into him only because of those broad shoulders and the bulge I’d glimpsed in his underwear. I was interested in the man now more than ever.

  “Maybe he’s changed and you should talk to him,” I encouraged. “I can’t imagine a parent not wanting the best for their kid. Look at Becca for example. She’s not the most outstanding mom, but I know whatever she does, she does in my best interest.”

  My phone chose that moment to beep, and I retrieved it from the coffee table where I had rested it earlier. I groaned at the message that displayed on the screen from Becca.

  Call me when you’re heading home. I’ll get rid of what’s-his-face.

  “Except this,” I added to my earlier statement about my relationship with Becca. “This is definitely for her benefit not mine.”

  He took the phone from me and read the message before handing it back with a frown.

  “Want me to talk to her about it?”

  I shook my head. “No, I mean we’re both adults. She should be able to sleep with whoever she wants. This is the twenty-first century.”

  “Yeah, but she’s still your mom, Jason.”

  “She might be my mother, but unless you’ve not been paying attention, our relationship’s not quite like that. We let each other do our own thing and still love, support, and respect each other.”

  “You’re saying you like your relationship that way?”

  I shrugged. “It has its perks.” I smiled, pointing at him. “Like the time I was nine and she entered me into that Little Miss Pageant and refused for the judges to rule me out because I’m a boy.”

  “What?” His bellow upset Miss Puss, who rose to her feet and jumped off his lap, leaving us alone. “I never heard that story before.”

  I giggled. “It was fun. I didn’t even know I was gay then, but I loved wearing dresses and wigs. Nobody suspected I was a boy until one mother eavesdropped on us and went squealing to the judges of the event. Becca refused to let them pull me from the event.”

  He chuckled. “Did you at least win?”

  “Hell yes, I did, and several others after that. The prize monies kept us afloat for a while.”

  “I can see why you won. You’re a pretty boy, Jason.”

  As far as compliments went, I’d been called far nicer things than pretty, but coming from Lucas, it was the beginning of what I always wanted to hear from him. He looked at me with the same hunger that had been in his eyes the night he’d kissed me.

  “Daddy Luke, I—”

  He rose to his feet before I could finish. “You mentioned you didn’t have work tomorrow, right?”

  “No. It’s my first day off.”

  He took up the tray from the coffee table. “All right, you can use one of the guest bedrooms for the night, but you must talk to Becca about how this bothers you. She’s great, and I love her, but both you two have been deluding yourselves that you can be friends only. At some point she also has to be a parent, and if something is bothering you about having all those men there, she needs to listen.”

  He walked out of the living room, leaving me reeling with denial of his advice. Becca and I were fine. We didn’t have a problem, and even if we did, it might be because I needed to move in to my own apartment. If only the salary I made would be able to cover the expenses of living on my own, but until things picked up with my makeup consultant side job, I was stuck sharing an apartment with a very horny woman I preferred thinking of as a friend.

  Because then I wouldn’t have to face the possibility that she had failed as a mother.

  Chapter Twelve

  Lucas

  I wished I could say it was a surprise waking up the next morning with Mis
s Puss draped over my face and Jason curled up in a ball at the foot of my bed. I froze for a few seconds, trying to figure out what was happening before the thought struck me that of all the bed partners I’d had over the years, this was the first time I’d ever woken up with a pussy in my face.

  I snort-laughed, frightening Miss Puss, who snarled and dug her claws into my hair. If there was one thing I’d learned when the cat startled, it was not to react in the same manner. Slowly she released her hold on me, and I helped her out of my hair. She stared at me as though affronted I had woken her up before she sauntered over to the vacant pillow, her tail swinging from side to side.

  “Jesus,” I muttered, staring at the dark head at the very foot of the bed. When had he snuck in? I’d been afraid of this when I offered him a room for the night so he didn’t have to agonize about overhearing Becca and one of her men. Why the hell hadn’t I closed the door?

  I shouldn’t have offered him a bedroom, but I’d made the decision after the way we had spoken last night. I couldn’t recall a time Jason hadn’t flirted with me, but yesterday had been different. He hadn’t looked at me like I was his favorite flavor of cotton candy. Okay, maybe a little, but for once he’d asked questions about my life, and he’d listened when I answered.

  Get your ass out of your head, Lucas. But I couldn’t. I stared at him, remembering the first time he’d sparked my interest in being more than my friend’s son.

  “Becca, give me that.” I plucked the cigarette from between her lips before she could light up. Another day and it wouldn’t have mattered to me, but we were at her son’s graduation from high school, and he’d begged me last night to ensure Becca behaved.

  “Come on, Lucas. The graduation is over.”

  “Then you can wait a few minutes until we’re out of here to smoke,” I replied, frowning at the stick in my hand. “I thought you’d quit these.”

  “I did quit, but then I un-quit.”

  “You need to quit again. You know it affects Jason’s sinuses.”

  “I don’t smoke around him. That’s why I wanted to smoke now.”

  Before I could respond, the topic of our conversation appeared a few feet away from us. He was radiant, grinning at completing high school. There was a time none of us would have thought he would make it. He wasn’t academically inclined. He neither had the attitude nor the aptitude for it, but he’d scraped by, and I for one was proud of him for persevering.

  “I did it!” he yelled, and I laughed at the joy on his face. He bent, gathering the hem of his graduation gown, and lifted. I stared in horror at the skin that was revealed every inch that he pulled up. I wasn’t the only one watching him either.

  In quick strides, I reached his sides and grabbed his arms, pulling him into me and preventing him from lifting higher. He stared up at me, eyes wide.

  “What are you doing?” he gasped.

  His body was flush against mine. I’d had no idea how close I had pulled him, but his legs brushed mine, and he exhaled a puff of warm breath that hit my cheek. An intense longing curled up inside my belly, and I sprang away. He was a beautiful guy, long lashes accentuated with eyeliner, a straight nose in his small face and plump lips.

  “I-uh.” I cleared my throat and shook my head to clear the cobwebs from my mind that were trying to deceive me into thinking I was attracted to him. That was bullshit. I’d known Jason for years, and this had never been a problem before.

  “Are you wearing anything under that gown, Jace?” I asked, satisfied that I sounded normal.

  He grinned at me, batting his eyelashes. He was a flirt and would probably always be, but I’d always been able to handle him, turning him down gently.

  “Of course I’m not naked,” he replied, removing his cap and finger-combing his brown hair. “Barely.”

  I groaned. “Maybe you should keep your gown on until we get to your apartment.”

  “Can’t. I have to return it now.”

  “Okay, hurry up and get back.”

  He pulled the gown over his head, and it was a relief to find he wasn’t naked. Barely. He was wearing a pair of purple shorts that just about covered his ass and that was all. His shirt clung to his slender torso, a raised middle finger on the front.

  I didn’t have to ask him why this attire. He’d had a hard time of high school, not just because he was gay but because he liked all things girly and sparkly. Now he didn’t have any dress code or school rules to try to tame him.

  “I’ll be back!” He blew me a kiss and sashayed away, his tight ass cupped by the seat of his shorts like a lover’s hands. My hands.

  I glanced away and the breath I drew into my lung shuddered on its way back out. There was no way in hell I could be attracted to Jason. Besides, I was already in a committed relationship.

  Miss Puss stretched, pulling me out of my thoughts. I groaned. If I wasn’t careful, I’d end up spending the day reminiscing about all the moments like that I’d had with Jason since realizing the attraction I felt for him the day of his graduation.

  There was something about seeing him curled up at my feet like a subservient boy when I knew he was anything but. Would he be willing to do anything to please me in bed? The position he had chosen to take in my bed said yes.

  Before I stupidly woke him up and satisfied both our curiosity of what sex between us would be like, I slipped out of bed. He couldn’t be comfortable in his position, but I dared not wake him up. He looked too right in my bed, but there was no way I could sleep with him without it being creepy. I’d known him forever and a day.

  It was still quite early, and determined not to let Jason’s presence alter my routine, I used the bathroom, dressed in my working-out gear, and set off from the house at a punishing pace. The wider the distance stretched between us, the more I thought about him and our conversation last night. He’d never been a brilliant boy, and he’d grown up a bit simplistic in his thoughts, but his innocent way of looking at the world was endearing.

  And I was going to do something stupid thinking about him like this. Maybe if we hadn’t engaged in that heart-to-heart last night I could have continued ignoring him, but my curiosity was piqued.

  Before, my urge to sleep with him had been just that: physical along with the abundance of affection I’d genuinely felt for him all these years. It was difficult not to love Jason in a platonic way. For that reason I’d kept my distance from him because Jason would never be the guy to fuck and leave behind. He was in my life for better or worse. I was close to his mother, and these heart-to-heart talks with him were revealing other layers to us that I’d wished to keep covered.

  Becca and I had entered each other’s life at a time when we both needed someone. Freshly rejected by my father, and her struggling to make two ends meet, we’d shared our frustrations and lamented the men in our lives who made them difficult. Hers had been Jason’s father who’d knocked her up and left her to fend for their son alone. As a waitress, she’d gotten me a foot in the door of the first restaurant where I’d gained experience enough to later move on.

  I was forever indebted to her. How could I repay her by sleeping with her son?

  I was so distracted I almost ran smack into a fire hydrant, having to launch over it at the last minute. I wished that was the last of my misfortune, but someone should have notified me that having my thoughts full of Jason while jogging was detrimental to my health. I took the wrong turn and almost got lost. While doubling back, the Seattle sky did what it did best and opened up for a shower of rain.

  As if all that wasn’t enough, I was splashed by an incoming vehicle. I couldn’t get home fast enough, and when I ducked inside, wet and dripping all over the floor, tracking mud along with me, I’d quite forgotten what was waiting for me inside.

  I followed the singing to the kitchen where Jason had his earphones in, blaring out the lyrics to “I’m Every Woman” and dancing around the high-powered blender. His hips shimmied from side to side, his bare legs in my borrowed shirt kicking to the
left and the right. The spoon he was using to stir whatever he had in the blender was raised to his lips, and he crooned, coming near the ending of the song.

  His little act amused me, and there was no way I was going to miss the end of it. Leaning against the wall at the entrance to the kitchen, I watched him, taking every swing of his hips, shamelessly willing the shirt to lift in the flurry of his motions so I could get a glimpse of his ass in his underwear. He was right at home in my kitchen, oozing sexiness and everything carnal I should be running away from.

  He spun, mixing spoon in hand, eyes closed as he sang a dramatic note that must have made Whitney roll in her grave.

  “Bravo! Bravo!” I applauded, grinning at him, and his eyes flew open. He jerked upright and dropped the spoon from mouth level. His freckles stood out of his face which was slowly infusing with color.

  “Oh my God,” he groaned, pulling the earbuds from his ears. “Why do I always have to embarrass myself around you?”

  “Who said anything about embarrassing?” I asked, entering the kitchen. “You were born to perform. Don’t stop on my account.”

  “You just wait until I catch you doing something embarrassing,” he remarked. “I was practicing for my drag performance.”

  My mouth fell open. “You were doing what?”

  “Drag. I like it, but I’m too much of a coward to do it. I’ve been practicing a lot and hoping one day I’ll be brave enough to take the stage.”

  He ducked his head as if realizing he’d shared more than he intended, then spun back to the blender.

  “Jason, you forgot—”

  Too late. He squealed when he jammed the highest speed on the blender and whatever the hell he had been preparing flew out of the uncovered top, splashing into his face and shirt.

  “Make it stop!” he cried, batting at the thick milky substance that still splashed him and the floor.

  “Just press the button to turn it off!” I called to him, but he was still squealing and trying to battle the mess the wrong way.

 

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