by Jessa James
“Am I being charged with anything?” I ask the guard as I put my shoes back on.
“Nah. Richard Spencer, the guy you pounded? He basically wouldn’t stop talking once he got here. He admitted to throwing the first punch, and to assaulting the girl he was with. What a fuckin’ piece of work. I’m glad you gave him what he was askin’ for.”
The guard rolls his eyes and shakes his head.
I just nod, figuring that I’ll stick to not talking to the cops, regardless of the circumstances. It takes a few more minutes for them to go through my release paperwork. I keep my trap shut and sign where they tell me.
The next thing I know, I’m stepping out into the humid night air. I look around at the nondescript parking lot that I exited to, checking my phone. I have a whole bunch of texts and missed calls from Forest and Asher, telling me to call them if and when I get out.
I don’t feel like calling one of them for a ride though, honestly. I just want to take a shower and lay in my own bed. I open the Uber app and search for a ride home.
“Jameson?”
I look up to find Emma heading my way after sliding out of a strange black Range Rover, looking tired as hell. She has to walk a fair distance from her car to where I’m standing; I start to walk towards her, a little dazed that she would even be here.
She went home and changed, obviously, because she’s wearing a plain black t-shirt and a little denim skirt. But her hair is a mess, and she’s wearing fluffy bunny slippers on her feet.
She has never looked so good to me as she does now, barreling towards me in the parking lot.
“Hey—” I start to greet her. Then I groan as she all but tackles me, hugging me around the torso so hard that I wince.
I stand there for a second, stunned. Of all the reactions that I expected, this wasn’t one of them. I wrap my arms around her, enjoying the feel of her in my arms.
Emma looks up at me, tears shining in her eyes. “Thank you for coming to my defense, Jameson. I am so, so sorry that you got arrested because of me.”
She hugs me again, slipping her arms around my neck and burying her face against my neck. I can’t resist the urge to lean down and smell her hair, taking a deep inhalation of her feminine scent.
“You weren’t to blame,” I murmur against her hair, cradling her head. “You did nothing wrong.”
She doesn’t even look at me this time. “I went on a date with him, didn’t I?”
“You can’t have known it would end up like this.” I gently pry her back a couple of inches, even though I never want to let her go. Her tear stained face breaks my heart. “I can’t stand to see you cry.”
Her emerald eyes are large and mesmerizing, her face sweetly heart shaped. I cup the side of her face in one hand, pushing back some of her wild hair. Her lips are luscious and inviting, and they part ever so slightly when my gaze drops to look at them.
I don’t honestly know whether I move first or she does, but we both surge forward. My lips find hers, hesitating at first. But once I get the taste of her in my mouth, the scent of her in my nose, I go wild.
Then there is nothing gentle about the way that I grab her, hauling her up against me. I’m already hard for her, imagining the sweet satisfaction that I’m about to find at the apex of her thighs. My tongue seeks hers and she opens her mouth to me, urging me on.
Emma makes this sound, a mewling sound, but more guttural. The sound makes the fine hair on the back of my neck stand up and my whole body tingles for a second. I pull her body up against mine, rubbing her tits across my chest. She moans and wraps her legs around my torso.
Fuck, she feels so good. Far better than in my imagination. I carry her back towards her car, trying to figure out how I’m going to get her back to my house. It seems impossible to put her down and calmly drive somewhere else, but I can’t just have sex with her here in the parking lot of the jail, either.
She starts to kiss my neck, sucking hard on my earlobe. My eyes roll into the back of my head for the briefest moment and I stumble. Emma seems totally unworried about our surroundings.
Maybe she’s completely oblivious to my thought process about how I can fuck her the fastest. But when I get to her car, pressing her against the driver’s side door, she looks up at me. Her eyes are filled with the same impatient lust as mine.
“Take me right here, right now,” she demands, her voice low and throaty. “I need you, Jameson.”
Lust fills my veins like lead. Her words are the balm I’ve needed for so long; it feels like it’s been aeons since I’ve been inside her, instead of weeks.
Still, I shake my head. “No. Not here.”
“Yes,” she whispers in my ear. She grabs my hand, pulling it down her body, until I’m touching the front of her panties. They’re damp, soaked by her need. Her words turn pleading. “Now. In the car. I need you inside me right now.”
At the same time, she reaches down between us, feeling the outline of my cock through my pants.
Fuck. It’s hard to think, hard to speak. Especially when she pleads so sweetly for me to fuck her.
Emma pulls the keys for the Range Rover and unlocks the car. She puts her feet down and wriggles a little bit to try to pull on the door handle.
“Uh uh,” I say, my eyes burning into hers. I step back, leaving her looking at me with a note of shock on her face. She thinks I’m turning down sex, which is almost funny. “If you need it as badly as you say, get your ass in the back and fold the seats down. I need room to work.”
Her eyes widen a bit, but she hurries around to the very back of the car, opening the gate. I don’t give her any space or time. I’m right on her heels, watching her as she puts the seats down.
As soon as she makes the back seat flat, I give her a little push.“Get inside,” I order.
I get immense pleasure out of watching her miles of fantastic legs and ass as she scurries into the back of the Range Rover. I climb in the back, pulling down the gate behind me.
It’s still a little crowded, being that I’m almost six and a half feet tall. But when she gets herself turned around, biting her lip and looking up at me, I suddenly feel that same urgency as I felt earlier.
And when Emma starts to undress, pulling her shirt up over her head, that urgency takes over. I pull my shirt off too, lying down.
“Get your panties off,” I growl. “I want you to ride me, right fucking now.”
She looks at me with those wide, innocent eyes and starts to unzip her skirt.
“No. Leave it on,” I tell her. “And take the panties off. Don’t make me tell you again.”
I unzip my own pants as she shimmies her panties down her legs, kicking them off with her shoes. I hook my thumbs into the waistband of my boxer briefs, shoving them and my pants down to the middle of my thighs.
My cock springs free, long and thick, the tip of it already slick with precum. Emma’s hand is on my cock instantly, her fist closing around it.
Fuck, that feels so good.
It’s been so long since I felt her little fist gripping my dick that I close my eyes when she touches me. She gives me a few experimental strokes, testing the waters. But when I see her head going down to my cock, I have to stop her.
“No, not now,” I grit out, guiding her face up to mine. “I don’t want to blow my load in your mouth. I want your pussy, and I want it right now.”
She straddles me, breathing a little bit faster. I force her head down and kiss her, even as I lift my hips up. My cock touches her warm inner thigh. I close my eyes for the briefest moment, distracting myself with the names of gin brands.
Genever, Bombay, Tanqueray, Beefeater, Citadelle, Aviation, Hendrick’s, Seagrams…
I open my eyes, realizing that I should’ve definitely jacked off in the last couple days. Or maybe been with a girl that was less hot than Emma, who was straight up bombshell.
I kiss her, pressing her ass down so that her knees widen.
“You’re going to have to ride slow,” I warn. “I’m so fucking
hot for you right now, I can barely see straight.”
She gives me a wicked grin. “Is that right?”
I just grunt, pressing her down again. I use my free hand to stand my cock straight up, groaning when the blunt tip touches her pussy lips. They are already dripping with moisture.
Emma’s been waiting for me, it seems.
She sinks down on my dick, her expression enraptured. I have to close my eyes and list whiskey brands while she stretches to take all of me.
“Fuck!” I mutter. “God damn, you’re so tight, baby. So wet. So perfect.”
When she finally takes all of my cock, I pull her down for a long, slow kiss.
“Are you ready?” she asks, already breathless.
To answer her question, I move my hips upward. She cries out, but she doesn’t stop. No, she keeps going, her actions growing frenzied. Her pussy grips my cock as she rides me.
I move my hand down between our bodies, rubbing her clit. I am going to make damn sure that she comes when I do… and I’m going to come pretty damn soon.
“Oh my god,” she says, leaning forward. “Omigod, right there…”
I can feel her tensing and clenching, getting close to the edge.
“Fuck. That’s right. I love the way you ride me, Em. The way that sweet pussy grips my cock so tight—”
That little bit of dirty talk is enough to push her over the edge. She cries out, her pussy spasming wildly, her nails scoring the flesh of my chest.
I let myself go, pumping up into her body with abandon. I can feel the orgasm before it hits, feel it down low in my balls. It tears loose and I thrust upward again and again, her greedy little pussy milking my cock of every drop.
I slow, then stop, trying to catch my breath. She lays sprawled across my chest, her breathing rapid, covered in a layer of sweat. Not just hers, but mine, too.
I close my eyes and hold her close, enjoying the musky smells coming from us both, and the moment of closeness.
It’s not enough, just being with her. It’s not nearly enough.
But I’ll take what I can get, for right now.
15
Emma
Afterward, Jameson drives my Range Rover back to my house. He doesn’t stop touching me the whole way, his right hand traveling from my bare knee to my outer thigh and back down. I lean into the contact, my arm entwined with his. I stroke his muscular biceps through his shirt, biding my time until I can get him naked again.
He looks at me more than he should while he drives, his gaze possessive. And he keeps stroking my knee and my thigh, his fingertips scrawling lazily across my skin. It’s as if he’s been so starved for touch that he can’t help himself; I know that’s the way I feel, at least.
No words pass between us as he drives. There are no questions about what we’re doing, no angry denials of feelings. None of that.
I assume that he feels the same way that I do. I don’t know a hundred percent, but I expect that he isn’t sure why we were ever not together.
Maybe later, we’ll talk about that. But not now.
When we get to my house, he is as eager to get inside as I am. We kiss and embrace on the porch as I hunt down my key. I put the key in the lock, and he runs his tongue along the shell of my ear.
“Someone will see us,” I warn him, gasping as he reaches around to cup my breasts.
“So?”
I turn the key and push the door open, a shiver running down my spine at his response. Is he really so cavalier about it now?
I swallow the question, because now isn’t the time for all of that. There will be infinite amounts of time to discuss it later. I turn in his arms, kissing him. He grabs me and lifts me up, carrying me inside.
I squeak a little as he kicks the door shut. He carries me straight into my bedroom, collapsing on the bed on top of me. We take our time, kissing and exploring. He goes down on me and makes me cum three times before he is ready for sex.
And unsurprisingly, Jameson makes me cum again while he’s deep inside me. When we’re finished, both laying exhaustedly together, he kisses me so slowly and throughly that my eyes mist over.
I bury my head against his neck to hide my tears, but he’s having none of it.
“Hey,” Jameson says softly. He lifts my chin with gentle fingers. “You’re crying again.”
“I know,” I sniff, embarrassed. “Sorry, it’s just… overwhelming.”
“There’s nothing to apologize for.” His arm tightens around my shoulders, holding me a little closer.
A minute of silence passes between us. I’m wondering where I should begin to broach the topic of the huge change we just made to our relationship. While I’m thinking, though, Jameson speaks.
“I should be the one to apologize,” he says after a minute. “For breaking up with you, first of all. But also for being a complete tool while I was doing it, too.”
I raise myself up, putting my chin in my hand. “I think we’ve both suffered our fair share.”
He frowns. “We shouldn’t have, though. We should’ve just rode off into the sunset together, and never looked back.”
I bite my lip, glancing away. “But if you weren’t concerned for Asher, you wouldn’t be you.”
“You are too goddamned forgiving.” He twines his fingers with mine, which only serves to remind me how much bigger he is than me. “Your brother probably won’t be so nice.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Asher? No, probably not. Although he has had his head up his own ass lately. He probably has zero idea that we’re even… like…”
I trail off. Jameson kisses my neck, and I’m happy enough to let that particular topic of conversation fall by the wayside. I close my eyes as he sucks and bites my neck for a second.
“What did my brother do to get you so… mmm… devoted?” I ask.
The kisses stop as Jameson pauses for a second. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, like… I don’t know. I figured that he must have helped you bury a body or something, the way you care what he thinks.”
His brow furrows as he considers my words. “Asher didn’t earn my loyalty by doing me a single favor. He did a whole series of them, from the day my grandma died until Gunnar went off to college. I think… I think maybe you missed some of the really hard stuff, like when I was trying to decide between feeding my brothers and making rent. And it was like that for years. I just kept thinking, this will be the day that this rich kid washes his hands of us. But he never did.”
I bite my lip. “I had no idea that you felt that way, Jameson.”
“Did you know that Asher helped me get my first bar backing job? Or an apartment, before I had enough credit? How about the time that he snuck us into the guest house so that I could save up some money? He literally saved us from starvation three times a year for almost ten years. And that’s just the stuff I can put a dollar amount on… it doesn’t include years and years of hearing me bitch about stuff that I found unfair.”
I shake my head. “No, I didn’t know about that. I’m guessing that you feel indebted to him still?”
He blows out a breath. “Yeah. I mean… how do you even start to pay that back? You can’t, not really. All you can do is—”
“What you’ve been doing,” I fill in, nodding. “Just being there, and being a good friend. I really do get that part, even if I don’t necessarily agree with it.”
He closes his eyes for a minute, running his hand through his short dark hair. “What else am I supposed to do? How do I repay that debt?”
I purse my lips. “Have you talked to Asher about it?”
He just shakes his head silently.
“Have you considered that he might not feel like you owe him some massive debt? He may feel that he gave you those things because he had them to give.” I pause, thinking. “There’s also the possibility that he may feel that he got something out of the deal, too. I know for a fact that you two got busted together for fighting on the playground plenty of times. I guarantee you t
hat Asher’s scrawny ass didn’t do most of the fighting.”
He smiles faintly at that, opening his dark eyes. “You should’ve seen how awkward he was as a middle schooler. Talking to girls was a real problem for him.”
“And how did he get past that? My bet is that you had something to do with it.”
“Maybe.” He shrugs one shoulder. “That’s still next to nothing, comparatively.”
I sigh, letting the subject drop. I screw my face up, thinking.
“Can I ask you a weird question?”
He looks at me sideways. “Of course.”
“When did you first look at me and think that I was hot?” I blush as I say it.
Jameson shifts me off of his chest and turns so that he’s lying on his side. “That’s a complex question.”
“I don’t mean it to be. I’m just curious when you noticed me. I will admit to having dirty thoughts about you as early as twelve or thirteen, probably.”
His eyebrows shoot up. “Really?”
“Yeah. I know that you barely noticed me, but you were a fixture in my life for a really long time.” I hope he’s going to stay in my life for the foreseeable future and beyond… but I don’t say it.
He is thoughtful. “Well… you’re probably going to cringe, but I really only started paying attention to you around the time that Cure opened. You weren’t really around me a lot before then, not day to day anyway.”
“What? I like, lived for the times when I knew I was going to see you.”
He shrugs. “I’m sorry. I was just wrapped up in my own stuff. If you didn’t know, I had a lot going on then.”
“Oh, you mean making sure that all your brothers got into college on scholarships wasn’t a mindless activity for you?” I tease.
“Hah! No. Especially Gunnar. I swear, I thought he was going to be my personal downfall.”
“Hmmm,” I say. “You still didn’t answer my original question, though. When was the first time that you saw me and thought that I was even vaguely attractive?”
He heaves a sigh. “Probably when you were seventeen.”
My eyes go wide. “Seventeen?”