Wild Jaden

by Shayne Ford

  He straightens his back, his eyes rooting to the fire as well. The incense of the burning wood wafts through the air.

  “I was born in Washington State. I learned from my dad, among other things.”

  “Interesting.”

  He smiles.

  “Yeah... I wasn’t always a hustler,” he mutters, musing over something.

  For a few moments, we listen to the crackling fire.

  “You missed that place?”

  He shrugs.

  “I don’t know. I never thought about it. I wouldn’t go back... I don’t think so.” He pauses for a moment. “Those were really good times,” he says, melancholic.

  Minutes later, we exit the bedroom. I head to the bathroom. Tall windows let in the same stunning view that surrounds the house. A shower booth and a sizable hot tub occupy most of the room.

  I open a cabinet, scoop out a few candles and light them up.

  “What are you doing?” he asks as he walks in.

  “I’m getting the hot tub ready.”

  “For?”

  “You,” I say, smiling.

  “What about you?”

  “I’ll set the dinner table.”

  He looks at me, surprised.

  “I wasn’t always a pampered, cold-hearted bitch,” I say.

  “I never thought you were,” he murmurs. “What about we set the dinner table together. And then we get in the hot tub together.”

  My lips curve into a soft grin.

  “Sounds good,” I say, a blush spreading over my cheeks.

  Half an hour later, we taste the delicious food by candlelight. He paces himself, deep into his thoughts. I’ve never seen him rushed at the table. From time to time, I steal a glance at him. The soft glow softens his expression. He looks relaxed, no longer hunted.

  Melancholy flashes through his eyes as I talk about the time I used to spend in this house with my grandparents as a little girl.

  “So, you like this place?” I ask, bringing the glass of wine to my lips.

  “Yeah... I do.”

  I take a sip of the ruby liquid and set the glass on the table. The sound of the burning logs and the howling wind tear the silence from time to time.

  “I’ve never been away from home this past five years,” I murmur.

  “Me neither,” he says, staring blankly at the candle.

  His voice is calm, woven with sadness.

  “I couldn’t, for one, and then, I had no room in my life for anything else.”

  I ponder for a moment as I digest his words.

  “What would you do if, um...?”

  His gaze shifts to me, an eyebrow slowly arching.

  “Yes?”

  “If you could do anything or change anything? What would you do?” I ask.

  A thought gleams briefly in his eyes.

  “I’d change the past. Bring my parents back. And Jacob. Fall in love for the very first time,” he says, smoothly tearing his eyes away from me, leaving me wrapped in cold. “I’d also like to be able to erase my memory. I’d like to forget a lot of shit...” he adds, his lips creasing into a rueful smile. “What about you?”

  He swings his gaze back to me.

  “Same... I’d change the past. Myself. I’d get a taste of real love... The kind that makes your heart flutter and stays with you forever... I’d also get a different set of parents,” I say sarcastically.

  I expect to hear a comment. Instead, he slants his gaze down and looks at his plate.

  I swallow the last sip of wine.

  “How was your first time?” I ask, sliding the glass onto the table.

  He tips his chin up and cocks an eyebrow.

  “You mean sex?”

  I nod.

  “Yeah... Sex I guess.”

  “There wasn’t much of anything else,” he says. “I fooled around with girls in high school, but my very first time was with one of my friends’ sister. She was older than me, and she had her eyes set on me for some time. One night she was home alone. My friend was supposed to come back from a trip, but he got stuck in another town with his parents. She let me in...”

  He pauses and smiles.

  “In more ways than one...” he says, his grin still tugging at his lips. “She crammed everything she knew and wanted in that first night. I was always a fan of crash courses. And I sure picked up really fast. There was no emotion between us. Only lust. The hormones were raging.”

  He laughs.

  “On both sides,” he says, amused.

  He leans back in his chair and rests his hand on the table as he starts playing with the lighter.

  His eyes follow the motion.

  “She knew exactly how she wanted to be fucked, and she was quite upfront about it.”

  His eyes come to me. Detached.

  “I couldn’t be happier. At that time, I thought she was every man’s dream.”

  He shifts in his seat and leans forward this time, both elbows resting on the table.

  “She wanted me back after that night. We fucked for a few good months before she left for college. I never heard from her again.”

  He slips a cigarette between his lips, and flicks it with his tongue, leaving it unlit.

  “What followed wasn’t much different,” he says talking around his cigarette.

  He lights it up and takes a slow drag. Soft smoke rolls through his parted lips.

  “Soon, I was the one who called the shots, but I never cared for something else. I didn’t want the complications. Not after I lost my family, and my friend, and saw my sister broken over his death. The rest... You know it,” he says, and then goes quiet.

  SENNA

  “What about you?” he asks. Tilting his head back, he tosses me a small smile. “Anything you can talk about?”

  I take a long breath.

  “My first time was sort of an... accident,” I say, lowering my eyes for a moment. “No emotions were involved. That’s how I learned not to look for them in a man later on.”

  He gives me a puzzled look.

  “You’ve never tried a regular hook up?”

  I shake my head.

  “No. There were a few instances when I tried, but it never worked out, so I gave up, and when I made enough money, I started to shop around.”

  He tears his gaze away from me, suddenly guarded.

  “That’s all. There’s not much else to talk about,” I say curtly as I grab a couple of plates and rise to my feet.

  Silent, he pushes his chair back and collects the flatware.

  “I’ll do it,” I say as I start loading the dishwasher.

  He pivots away from me and opens the oven and then the refrigerator, searching.

  “It’s in the box,” I say, motioning to the fridge.

  He gives me a side glance, a smile playing on his lips.

  “It’s right there,” I say, pointing to a shelf. “There’s a chocolate cake in that box. Isn’t that what you were looking for?”

  “Mmm-hmm. How did you know?”

  “You’re always looking for sweets.”

  He pulls the box out as I grab a couple of dessert plates and slide them onto the table.

  “I’ll do this,” he says.

  He fumbles through the utensils in the drawer and pulls out a thin-bladed knife and a triangle shaped cake spatula. He runs the knife under hot water.

  “You’re serious about this business,” I say, smiling softly.

  “I’m good with cakes.”

  “And kids,” I say. And, um...”

  Grinning, he sways his head side to side, his eyes staying on the cake.

  “No, no... I’m afraid, that’s not true.”

  “What?”

  He looks at me.

  “I’m not good with women.”

  Without elaborating, he moves his eyes back to the cake.

  A slice of moist, dark, chocolate-glazed cake slides onto the plate. He hands it to me before he cuts another slice.

  He licks his fingers, now
sprinkled with crumbs. My eyes fall to his lips. That’s how I see his smile.

  “Let’s take a seat.”

  “Okay,” I mumble.

  I grab my plate, set it in front of me, and sink into a chair.

  We eat in silence.

  “What is it, Senna?”

  I glance at him.

  A knowing smile flickers through his eyes.

  “Nothing.”

  He cocks his head to the side, and narrows his eyes, weighing me briefly.

  “Okay... Let me rephrase it then. You wanted me here. Why?”

  I sense a harshness in his voice, a contrast to his eyes.

  “There’s no particular reason.”

  “You don’t do anything without reason. You just said you haven’t been anywhere in a long time. So what’s the reason?”

  He clasps his hands under his chin, waiting for an answer.

  The candlelight plays in his eyes.

  “Why can’t you talk to me?” he asks softly this time.

  I weigh my words for a few seconds before I start to speak.

  “You keep saying you’re not good with women, and yet you are good to me.”

  He slowly shakes his head, a faint smile brushing his lips.

  “No, I’m not. Not in the way you want me to be. I told you a while ago I don’t do romance... And you said you were fine with it. And you probably were. But it’s no longer enough for you. I can tell. The thing is, I can’t give you what you need, and I don’t want to lie to you either. ”

  My heart starts pulsing randomly in my throat, and in my ears.

  “I know. I don’t expect anything from you,” I mutter dryly.

  He bores holes in my face with his eyes before he shifts his gaze to the window, and doesn’t say another word.

  Suddenly, the room feels cold.

  I push to my feet, tear away from the kitchen table and enter the bathroom. He doesn’t follow me.

  I shed my clothes and step into the shower, thoughts clashing in my head. They’re mostly bad. Different degrees of bad.

  Moments later, I turn off the water, run a towel over my body and slip into a robe. My mood doesn’t get any better as I walk into the bedroom. Sadness and regret grow in me with each and every step I take.

  Perhaps this was a mistake. The biggest mistake of all.

  All of a sudden, I feel bad for everything. The past and the present, the things I cannot change, and those no longer in my grasp.

  Quietly, I walk across the room and edge to the window.

  Flurries twirl softly in the air, looking like ghosts caught in the winter dance. My fingers trail the glass, my breath leaving a veil of mist in its wake.

  A long exhale leaves my chest when I hear his steps behind me. His fresh scent hovers over me, filling my lungs. He wraps his bare arms wrap around me, draping me in body heat.

  My smile flickers faintly in the window.

  He slinks his hands beneath my hair, slips his fingers inside my robe, and sheds it off my shoulders. The fabric crumples at my feet.

  My eyes stay on the window, rooted to his faint reflection as he slides his palms onto my breasts, and grows a path of kisses on my neck. One hand journeys to my stomach, and then lower, cupping my mound. Slowly, I begin to rock my hips, pushing my rear into his groin.

  Hard, and pulsing, he slides his length against me, his shaft hotter every time he does it. Palms pressed against the glass, I shudder with pleasure as he runs his hand between my thighs, and spreads my legs open.

  The tip of his cock traces the spot between my legs, making me clench in anticipation. His eyes follow the slow rocking of my hips as he keeps teasing me with his heated, throbbing flesh.

  Wet arousal rolls on him.

  “Want it, huh?”

  I nod in response.

  Slowly, he drives his full hardness into me, stretching me and filling me, twitching against my walls.

  I promptly start to shake.

  “Wait, baby...” he rasps, no longer moving, his lips pressed against my hair.

  He lowers his mouth and trails my neck with passionate kisses, heat swirling around his erection.

  He slightly rolls his hips and smiles against my skin as I eagerly move with him.

  A shudder falls through me.

  “Stay still. Let it come to you,” he says.

  I do. The less I move, the more overwhelming is the sensation.

  “Mmm-hmm. That’s good,” he purrs, his hard flesh stirring inside me again.

  He brings his fingers to my cleft and touches my clit, a mere tease. Nothing more. My flesh swells and tingles, craving more of his touch.

  Slowly, he shifts his fingers to my mouth and brushes my lips. Once. Twice. I sense the flavor of my wetness. I want to taste it. He probes my mouth. I part my lips. My tongue gives his fingers a soft swirl and then licks them. Pleasure surges through my senses.

  He pulls back a little and thrusts. Deep. Hard. Crying moans roll off my lips as he rocks his hips and enters me all the way again. He slides in and out. Several times. Hard. Slow. And then hard again, driving me insane.

  Panting, I arch against him, trying to quench the growing hunger inside me. His fingers journey to my mouth again.This time I clutch his hand and hold it to my mouth, wrapping my lips around his fingers.

  I suck them and moan, my hips dancing with his.

  “That’s good,” he says, a smile threading through his voice. “You want to suck a cock right now... A hard, fat cock.... ” he rasps, his heavy breaths fanning over my neck.

  I almost choke on a groan as pleasure burns the flesh between my legs. I jerk back, crashing into him. His lips go down my neck again, his tongue swirling, his teeth grazing my skin. He rolls his hips and hammers me deep, his free hand strumming my clit.

  Closing my eyes, I relish him taking me.

  His hand iron grips my neck while his teeth draw sore lines on my shoulder. His hips sway again, slamming into me hard, flesh craving flesh, nothing but addictive pleasure.

  Short bursts of air fill my lungs.

  “Fuck me... Jaden... ” I mutter, my voice breaking as my body jolts under his pounding. “Make me come...”

  His hand coils around my neck as he fiercely pounds me. A low growl vibrates in his chest while the pleasure and relief start tearing me apart.

  “Don’t stop,” I murmur.

  He doesn’t.

  He grips my hips and unleashes all that power coursing through his veins. I raise my eyes and stare at his reflection.

  His eyes glint feral, his abs waving as he thrusts, his strong arms holding me against his pounding. Lips parted, he draws in sharp intakes of air, his chest pumping.

  He fucks me hard. And good. He frees my body, and quiets my mind, sending me into a floating state.

  I ride that high with him, our scarred hearts silently connecting into a secret journey.

  11

  JADEN

  “Come to me,” I say to her, pointing to the rug I’m lying on.

  I look up at her as she carefully steps over my legs.

  Smoothly, I tug at the hemline and untuck her towel, peeling it off her body.

  She cups her tits, her lips tilting into a naughty smile.

  “That’s cute,” I say, amused.

  I roll to my side and prop myself on my elbow, making room for her in front of the fireplace. My towel loosens around my hips.

  Grinning, she lowers herself next to me and lies in front of me, her back pressed against my chest.

  Unhurried, I run my fingers over her skin, splaying them over her stomach. A shiver falls through her as I cup her tits and start kissing her neck. Her skin gets warmer from the fire, and from my touch.

  “Too close to the fire?” I ask teasingly, caressing her.

  She chuckles softly.

  “Always,” she mutters.

  She rolls to her back and rests her head on my arm, her gaze shifting up to me.

  A slow grin parts her lips.

  “What
is it, baby?” I ask.

  Her fingers come to my face, her index finger running gently across my lips.

  “What would make you really happy, Jaden?”

  Her eyes gleam in the soft light, filled with melancholy.

  “I am happy,” I say.

  She looks at me incredulously, a small grin tugging at her lips.

  “Your smile makes me happy,” I say.

  “I was talking about you.”

  “I’m happy when people who matter to me are happy. Is that simple.”

  “So, I matter to you...?”

  A swarm of emotions flits through her eyes.

  “Yes, you do,” I finally say.

  She pushes up and props herself on her elbows as well, her lips inches away from mine.

  “You matter to me, too,” she says, quietly, no longer smiling.

  I tenderly cup her face, my thumb tracing her cheek as my eyes delve into hers.

  “You matter a lot,” she says softly––almost whispering, her words meshed with a shred of pain.

  “I know.”

  Tears bead her lashes as her lips begin to quiver.

  “I’m happy when I’m with you,” she says. “I’ve never been close to anyone before I met you, other than perhaps my grandparents when I was little,” she adds with a shaky voice.

  Stroking her hair, I smile, yet sadness grows in me.

  “I’m not the man for you, Senna...” I say with a quiet voice.

  Her eyebrows tilt up, her lips parting in surprise before her eyes darken.

  “Not yet...” I say.“We both know it.”

  Her expression shifts again, a sliver of hope flashing through her eyes.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t mean anything other than what I just said. I don’t want to be away from you. I don’t want to be with other women or to go back on the streets. Other than my family, and Jacob, I’ve never been close to anyone either.”

  I pause. She ponders for a moment.

  “But?”

  “I wanna make it right for you. I’m not a man of half measures. And I’m a loyal man. But right now, Sara and Emma are my priority. I don’t want to lie to you or hide it from you. .”

  She studies me for a moment.

  “I don’t expect it to be otherwise,” she says.

  “Then you must know I can’t make a promise I can’t keep.”