Forever a Jett Girl (Bourbon #3)

by Meghan Quinn

  I could hear the women’s rights activists shaming me now, by chanting over and over…doormat, doooormat!

  Even though these women were in my head, they could fuck off, because until they had been fully inserted with the tree trunk resting pleasantly between Jett Colby’s thighs, they could back the hell off. Plus, the moment he talks to you intimately in that deep southern voice of his, fuck me in the damn meat valley, I can’t stay away.

  And it’s not all physical, hell no, there is an emotional connection I have with him, one that has grown stronger over time. At first, it wasn’t that strong, but over time, since he’s been opening up slowly, I’ve come to know the man I’ve always been curious about since I met him at Kitten’s Castle.

  I wanted to flip him off, to send him on his way, to show him that he couldn’t always control my heart, but I would have been lying if I’d said that. The man had a hold on me, the kind of hold that would last a lifetime, so instead of fighting it, I was going to let it happen. I was going to fall all over again, but this time, it would be on my terms. If he wanted me in his life, in his bed, and in his arms, then he was going to have to fucking work for it.

  “Don’t act like nothing is going on. Blane told us he stopped by the other day at the square.”

  Rolling my eyes, I pulled Francy over to my painting area and started spreading green paint all over her breasts. “Blane is such a gossip. I would swear the man spends his nights bouncing on his bed in a pink nightie with his hair clipped in bows while talking on his red lip phone.”

  “Does he have one of those?” Francy asked, while she raised her arms for me. She was much more professional at getting her breasts painted than Tootse, not that there was really a professional aspect of it, she just wasn’t squirming around like a child.

  “I wouldn’t be surprised if he does,” I answered.

  “Babs really likes him,” Lyla added.

  “Who, Jett?” I asked, as my stomach dropped for a second.

  “No, Blane,” Francy answered. “Come on, Babs and Jett are like brother and sister.”

  “Who fucked,” I said. “Don’t use that comparison with them; it’s just wrong.”

  “Understandable, but seriously, to all of us Jett is a friend, and that’s it. Once you walked in the club, we knew he was done for.”

  “So Babs and Blane then?” I asked, while changing the subject off of me and Jett. I wasn’t ready to answer those questions just yet. I would use Babs as a distraction for as long as I could.

  Eyeing me carefully, Lyla let me change the subject, but I could tell it would only be momentarily. “Yes, you should see the woman, always asking about him, texting him, and drooling over a picture she took with him the other night…”

  “She is so masturbating to that picture,” Francy pointed out. “I heard some moaning coming from her bedroom last night.”

  “You did not,” I laughed, trying to envision Babs being one to masturbate to a picture on a phone. Well, actually, she most likely would.

  “I did, a genuine moan…like her fingers were hitting the right spot.”

  “Could have been a vibrator,” Tootse said, coming back in the room with a top on now and her boobs cleaned up. “She has about four of them. Oh, my God, she was showing me one the other day; it plugs into the wall.”

  “Shut up, it does not,” I giggled.

  “No joke,” Tootse sat on the floor and leaned back on her hands. “The thing looked like something from the fifties, but when she turned it on, I was pretty sure it jostled my cervix from just standing next to it. What did she call it?” Tootse thought, as she looked up to the ceiling, trying to rack her brain for the name.

  Casually, Lyla answered while looking at her nails, “The Earth Quake.”

  We all turned toward her and gave her a questioning glare. She shrugged her shoulders and said, “It’s the granddaddy of vibrators. No need for batteries or the possibility of running out of juice in mid-orgasm. No, it plugs into the wall, has a gel handle for comfort, and rocks your pussy like no man would ever be able to handle. It’s called the Earth Quake because the thing rattles your loins like a five on the Richter scale. Want to learn how to squirt? Grab an Earth Quake and sit back, the damn thing does it all for you.” Lyla shivered and then fanned her face. “I need to get another one, because just thinking of it has gotten me hornier than a dog in heat.”

  “You? Horny? That’s hard to imagine,” I said sarcastically.

  “You wouldn’t be so horny if you just gave in to Kace,” Francy chastised.

  With a giant smile on my face, I turned toward Lyla, paint brush mid-stroke, and said, “Kace came on to you?”

  “Hell no,” Lyla cringed. “That man is appalling.”

  There was a collective guffaw that rang through the room, as every other woman except Lyla scoffed at her assessment of Kace.

  Kace.

  Fuck me. If I wasn’t with Jett, there was no doubt in my mind I would be spreading my legs, welcoming Kace with flapping wings down below. The man was impossible not to stare at with his rough exterior, devilish eyes, and his brooding attitude. With one glare, he could have you falling to your knees and begging to be taken right then and there. Believe me, I was close the moment I saw him in the shower…naked.

  Oh, and his penis, there is only one other penis that beats Kace’s, and its Jett’s, but Kace was a close second. To stroke it just once would be all the pleasure someone would need for a month.

  When it came to men’s genitalia, there were two categories men could fall under: the tree trunks and the twigs, Kace and Jett fell under the tree trunk category…easily.

  Lyla was either in complete denial about Kace, or she was starting to float down the tuna river to meet up with Francy and Tootse, which would be kind of hot because Lyla would be one fine ass lesbian. Any pair of tits would be lucky to have her dangling off their arm.

  Setting my paint brush down, I turned toward Lyla and folded my arms over my chest. “I call bullshit. There is not one woman on this earth who would look at Kace and say he is appalling.”

  Tootse and Francy nodded, as Francy said, “Hell, I dig the pussy like every other horny bastard out there, but I still get a little water works down below when I see Kace with his shirt off.”

  “It’s true,” Tootse agreed. “Sometimes we role play with Kace…”

  “Babe,” Francy said in a warning tone. “What happens between a lady and a lady should stay between a lady and a lady.”

  “Oh, no, please continue,” I gestured. “I would love to hear how that sentence ended.”

  “Of course you would,” Francy teased. “You can’t get enough of our sex life.”

  “Not falling for it,” I replied, as I started to paint Francy’s breasts again. “So, Lyla, tell us why you’re in denial.”

  “I’m not in denial; I can just see past his exterior. Don’t get me wrong, the first time I saw him, I wanted to pull off my shirt and let the man motor boat me into the next fucking month, but there is too much under that sexy façade. Things run deep in him.”

  I paused my paintbrush and looked over at Lyla. “Of course things run deep with him; he has a horrid past, Lyla. Do you really think the man would be all sunshine and glitter? He broods for a reason. You can’t be that sexy and not brood about it; I think it’s a rule in the romance community or something.”

  “Well, I can’t get involved. I have my own damn problems, taking on someone else’s wouldn’t be healthy, and I recognize that.”

  “He needs love,” I said softly, as I thought of the Kace I’d grown to love. Yes, he was a bastard most of the time, and he could easily make you want to pull your hair out, but he was kind and sweet and protective. When you were in his inner circle, you were set for life.

  “I know he does,” Lyla agreed. “But I don’t think I’m the girl to give it to him. Plus, I’m not really into the whole relationship thing, and I doubt he is either. And then, there’s the whole Pepper thing…”

&n
bsp; “Wait, they’re still fucking?” I asked, as I finished up painting Francy and grabbed my canvas. “I thought that was a onetime thing.”

  “I don’t think so,” Francy added.

  “Yeah, Pepper is down there a lot,” Tootse said. “Pepper doesn’t really talk about it, but apparently, it’s just meaningless sex.”

  “Doesn’t seem meaningless to me,” Lyla pointed out. “And, honestly, I like Pepper a lot; I don’t want to step on any toes. She can have Kace. I’m moving on anyway. I’ve moved up to the prime time spot at Kitten’s Castle.”

  “Lyla, you can’t work there anymore,” I responded, while pressing the canvas against Francy. “You’re better than that. Don’t you want to do something else with your life?”

  Lyla just shrugged her shoulders, as if it wasn’t a big deal that she didn’t have a backup plan. I could tell she was shutting me out; it was typical. She never got too deep or really talked about the future. She was independent, always did her own thing, and never worried about what was to come.

  “Not all of us are as lucky as you, girl. We can’t just land in the hands of a billionaire,” the tone she used was light, but the way she avoided eye contact with me made me think she was being snider than she was coming off as.

  “I’m trying not to take offense at that comment,” I replied, as I finished up with Francy. “But it seems like it was kind of a dig at me.”

  “Not a dig, just saying you’re lucky, that’s all. You know I love you, girl. I’m happy for you.”

  I eyed her for a second and only saw sincerity in her face. Maybe she didn’t mean her comment in a menacing way, but there was a bit of jealousy coming off of her, which I could imagine, since she’s had a rough go at life just like me. She deserved her happily ever after just as much as me or any of the other Jett Girls.

  “Well, don’t get all excited for me just yet. Things are…weird with Jett and me right now. I’m not really sure where we stand or what’s going to happen. After everything we’ve been through, I’ve got to hand it to him, he had balls to ask me out on a date.”

  Lyla whipped her shirt and bra off and stood in front of me, ready for paint. “I’m not surprised. The man is infatuated with you. You should have seen him when you were gone. I felt like he was going to start punching holes through any wall that was near him. He would do anything for you.”

  I knew he would; it was written all over his face every time he saw me. I just wished that he would give me all of him, not just half of his soul. I didn’t want half. If I was going all in, then I wanted all of him, despite what shortcomings he might think he had.

  It was funny, some women thought the dominant man was an easy one to be with because they knew what they wanted and took it, but they were actually the most difficult to live with because they were prideful, and that pride got in the way a lot, especially when you were trying to share a life with them, that’s at least what I wanted. I wanted to share a life with the man.

  “Hands up,” I directed Lyla, as I brushed off her comment. I wasn’t really in the mood to talk about Jett, especially since I didn’t know what was going to happen.

  “Oh, that reminds me,” Tootse shouted, as she started digging around in her purse. She pulled out a phone and brought it to me while I pressed the canvas against Lyla. “This is from Jett.”

  I eyed the phone and shook my head. The man was impossible.

  “I don’t want that.”

  “Just take it,” Lyla commanded, while the canvas was pressed flush against her. “Give him a little break and take the damn phone; he is obviously trying.”

  “When did you become Team Jett?” I asked, as I finished up and then eyed my canvas.

  It was interpretative art, for sure. The gallery wanted Mardi Gras, well what was more Mardi Gras than purple, green, and yellow breasts? I was going to do some shading and fillers, but the beginning of my art piece was making me quite happy.

  Lyla washed herself off as she talked to me. “I’ve always been Team Jett, from the very beginning when you got that little black card from him. Remember, I was the one pushing you to call him.” Taking a deep breath, she continued. “He’s a good man, Goldie. He may have his faults, but he has the best of intentions when it comes to you. You have to know that.”

  I just nodded my head because even though I was mad at him, I knew the way he looked at me, the things he did to protect me, but was it enough?

  “Are we all done here?” Francy asked, as she got up from the ground and brushed off her bottom. “I have a steak calling my name at the club; Chef’s been grilling.”

  “Steak, such a lesbian thing,” Lyla shook her head.

  “How is that lesbian?” Francy asked.

  “It is when you wear a flannel and eat it without a fork and knife,” Lyla countered.

  “One fucking night when I was drunk and you’re going to hold that against me.”

  “Honey, when you’re drunk, your inner butch comes out. It’s okay with me,” Tootse kissed Francy’s cheek. “It just means you’re a terror in the bedroom. You should see how far she can get…”

  “Babe, let’s not finish that sentence. Remember, things between a lady and a lady?”

  “Oh, right,” Tootse winked. “Are we done? My girl needs to bite into her lady meat.”

  “Why does that make me think of something else?” I asked, while cringing.

  “Because I was referring to my puss…”

  “Tootse, Jesus! Come on,” Francy said, while dragging her away and waving to both Lyla and me as she retreated.

  Lyla finished cleaning herself up, while I straightened up my paints and washed out my brushes in the bathroom next to my room. I was getting used to the small quarters and enjoyed my two roommates, even though they could be extremely overbearing, just like a certain southern gentleman that consumed my thoughts on a daily basis.

  Just as I finished up cleaning, the phone Tootse handed me started buzzing on the table. Both Lyla and I looked at it as Jett’s name appeared on the screen.

  “Are you going to answer that?” Lyla asked.

  “I don’t know,” I admitted.

  Lyla shook her head at me and put her shirt back on. “Don’t ruin the best thing that happened to you because of pride.”

  “Pride? Is that what you think this is? It isn’t pride, Lyla, it’s not wanting to get stepped on. Jett has a very strong personality…”

  “And yours is stronger. Do you really think he is the dominant one in the relationship? Maybe in the bedroom, babe, but in life, you are. You’re the one that holds the cards.”

  The minute the words left her lips, I wanted to ask her if Jett told her to talk to me, because those were his exact words…that was what he’d told me many times before. I was the keeper, the one who called the shots, and at one point, I thought I really did, until he didn’t trust me to take care of our business.

  “Don’t, don’t do this, Goldie. Give him a chance.”

  “I want to, Lyla. But my life can’t revolve around him. I want to do something for me. I want to find out who I am, what I’m supposed to do in this world.”

  With a soft smile, Lyla came over to me and pulled me into a hug while she whispered into my ear. “Sometimes, life has a funny way of helping you figure things out. You might not see it now, but I think Jett Colby was brought into your world so you could finally find yourself once and for all. I love you, girl. I think you know what to do.”

  She kissed me on the cheek and took off down the stairs before I could yell back at her to give Kace a chance, because maybe he was her Jett Colby. That would have to be a conversation for another day, because hell if I was going to let Lyla get away with not letting Kace into her life. They would be perfect for each other, easily. They would just have to get past their demons first.

  Shutting my door for some privacy, I grabbed the phone Tootse had given me, laid down on my bed, and touched the voicemail button to hear what Jett had to say.

  “Hello, Gold
ie. It’s Jett. I was calling to inquire about our date. When you have some spare time, I would love to hear back from you. Have a nice day.”

  I laughed out loud at the professional voicemail he’d left me. I could tell he was trying to control the way he spoke to me, being more cautious than anything, and add his southern politeness on top of that and the voicemail was ridiculous. Just so fucking Jett Colby.

  With a quick swipe, I called him back.

  The phone rang twice before he picked up.

  “Goldie,” his voice rang through the phone. It was soft, almost relieved…it cut straight to my heart.

  “Hi, Jett,” I held back the giggle that wanted to come out.

  “How are you?” he asked, once again, being cordial, not the same Jett I knew.

  “Umm, a little concerned.”

  “Concerned? Why?” he asked.

  “Well, you see, I knew this guy, this really hot guy, he kind of umm, took me by surprise by how fast and hard I fell for him, but he’s missing now…”

  Clearing his throat, Jett said, “Do I want to hear this?”

  “I don’t know, do you know where the real Jett Colby is?”

  “What?” Jett asked, confused, but clearly satisfied that I’d said his name.

  “Calling to inquire about our date?” I imitated his deep southern voice, but did a piss poor job at it. “When have you ever talked to me like that?”

  A sigh came from the phone, and I could envision the man settling in his desk chair and undoing his tie, then taking a sip from his tumbler full of dark liquid. Just thinking about him in such a position had me wishing I wasn’t at Diego’s house.

  “I’m sorry. I just don’t know how to act around you right now. I feel like I don’t know how to talk to you anymore.”

  “Is that because you don’t trust me?” I asked, feeling sad.

  “No!” he said quickly. “No, Goldie. I just…” he paused as I heard him shift in his chair. “I feel like there’s been too much distance between us. I feel like I’ve lost you.”