by Shayne Ford
“Okay, fine... Don’t say I didn’t fucking warn you,” he says, irritated, his voice drilling holes in my stomach.
He buries my hand in his palm and pulls me toward the corner of the patio.
Two women come into view, flanking a man. One whispers something in his ear. Both wear short clubbing dresses. The brown-haired one, who wears a white dress, pivots in front of him as the second one, a voluptuous brunette, who fashions a black dress, clings to his shoulder.
Braxton’s arm shoots up, trying to catch Jagger’s eyes. Oblivious to him, Jagger tilts his head to the dark-haired woman, a smile plastered on his face.
Braxton lets go of me, wraps his arms around the women’s shoulders, and despite their vocal protests, he spins them around, and hauls them away.
He walks them across the patio and into the club.
Dazed, Jagger looks at me, his eyes cloudy, a rueful smile clinging to his lips.
“Oh, Violet... What a surprise...” he slurs. “What brings you to Miami, kitten?”
He crosses his arms over his chest and leans against the railing, a lazy smile stretching across his lips. Hard muscles bulge against his shirt.
“You’re not supposed to drink, Jagger,” I say.
He chuckles, amused.
“And you’re not supposed to break my heart, kitten, and yet, there’s nothing we can do about it, is there?”
His eyes go down on me, taking in my dress. Tilting his head back, he narrows his eyes and lifts the corners of his lips slowly.
“I’m flattered, but I’m not gonna fuck you, baby.”
He shakes his head slowly.
“Yeah... I should’ve known better... I should’ve known that you’re gonna go back and forth and throw me under the bus on the first occasion.”
“That’s not what I did.”
“Oh, yeah... That’s exactly what you did.” He pauses, his eyes piercing me. “You’re nothing but a spoiled brat, Violet. You want to have things the way you want them, not the way they are. You’re fighting it, and yet, you also cherish it. You’re too smart not to see it. That’s why you came down here. Regret. But see, you can’t convince yourself to push that little princess out of your system and become the person you want to be. I, for one, no longer want to wait. And you know why? The more I see that crap in you, the more it hurts me... and disappoints me. I’d rather have you in my mind the way I had imagined you.”
He unfolds his arms and turns his back to me, his hands bracing the balustrade.
“I’m sorry about that message,” I murmur behind his back.
“It doesn’t change shit, and you fucking know it,” he says curtly.
“You’re right, Jagger... About everything. I wish I could figure out how to become that person faster and without hurting you or me... You’re not the only one who hurts. I step on my heart every day, wrestling with the person I want to leave behind, knowing that I'm not far from who I want to be, yet there is nothing I can do about it. It’s taking
longer than I thought, and all I can do is crawl, and stumble, and scrape my knees and then crawl some more. And you know what? It feels so lonely, because even if you are within reach, sometimes you’re pulling away from me because of a word or a voice or someone else who’s interested in me, and all I’m left with is doubt.” He turns to me, his eyes connecting with mine. “It’s not the regret that put me on the plane. When I left that message, I was tired and confused, and my thoughts were disjointed, but I knew what bothered me. Things don’t work for me with the distance between us, and other people in the background.” He shifts all the way to me, his eyes glued to mine. “When you called, it was right after I had lunch with mom. She stopped at my office unannounced, and the only reason she wanted to see me was to reiterate for the hundredth time what an idiot I was for leaving Brad, and now, for not hooking up with Jonas, and of course, for messing with you. And then, how stupid I am for imagining I’m more than a fad for you because of course, chances are, you’re going to leave me for someone else. And after that, Jonas wanted to work late so we could finish a new project, and that’s why he ordered the damn food. And in the end, to make the day perfect I heard that woman in the background, and I knew if you had Braxton with you, it wasn’t so you could play chess with him in the evenings. That’s why the day was weird. That’s why the distance doesn’t work for me. That’s why I had to take the damn plane and come talk to you. Not on the phone, not through texts and not with everything filtered through our imagination.That’s why I’m here.”
His eyes glisten. He’s torn and hurt.
“What are you saying, Violet?”
“I don’t want to be away from you.”
“And how will that play out?” he asks, slowly raising his eyebrows.
“I don’t know right now.”
“You want us to live together...?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“But I’m gonna travel.”
“Yes, I know.”
“You can travel with me if you want to,” he says, a faint smile fluttering across his lips, and a weight lifts off my chest.
“Are you serious?”
“Mm-hmm.”
He brings his arm around my shoulders and pulls me to him. I wrap mine around his waist.
“I fucking hated that day, Violet,” he murmurs, and my heart crawls back in my chest. “I don’t like to be away from you either.”
“I missed you,” I say.
“I missed you too,” he says softly. “About those women... Braxton picked them up for himself. Neither of us fucked them,” he says bluntly. “They were supposed to distract me...”
“That’s the lamest excuse I’ve ever heard.”
He lets out a small chuckle.
“Because it’s the fucking truth.”
“What if I didn’t show up?”
“I had the opportunity, trust me. Braxton keeps bringing them to his room only to send them back. I’m not looking to fuck other women. Not for fun and not to take my mind off you. I’ve had my share of everything. I’m not curious. Okay?”
I nod.
He straightens and grabs my hand.
“We need to go now,” he says, rubbing his eyes and wincing as if he’s in pain. “Is there anything you need to pick up from your room?” he asks.
A half hour later, I check out from my place, we take a cab and stop in front of a beautiful boutique hotel.
2
VIOLET
His room is actually a villa with two floors, a spiral staircase, two bedrooms, two bathrooms, and a large terrace with outdoor jacuzzi. Lush plants and shrubs form a green wall around the patio, ensuring the privacy of the outdoor space.
Jagger steps into the shower. I head to the terrace.
A soft breeze carries the scent of the ocean, and for a moment all I can think of is the stretch of the restless water, and the golden sand I can’t wait to see in the morning.
“You’ve made it,” a raspy voice drifts through the air, making my stomach flutter.
Braxton rises out of his lounge chair, swaggers to a small bar, and sets his empty glass on the counter. He wears the same dark jeans, his shirt unbuttoned, top to bottom, his cuffs undone.
Taut skin stretches over a wall of chiseled muscles.
His eyes stay steady on me as I take him in.
“You want something to drink? It’s not alcohol,” he adds as he senses my hesitation.
“Okay,” I say, leaning against the balustrade.
He fills a tall glass with juice and hands it to me, his eyes holding mine. I curl my fingers around the glass, relishing his touch briefly before I take it from his hand and bring it to my lips.
A smile rolls on his lips as he notices the soft tremble of my fingers.
“This is really good...” I murmur, the aroma of freshly squeezed lemons, oranges and grapefruits tickling my taste buds.
“It is, isn’t it? I made it,” he says, a playful
smile sneaking in his voice.
“You did?” I mutter, distracted. “You don’t strike me as someone squeezing fruits in a kitchen,” I add, grinning.
He looks away for a moment, and then back at me, his eyes narrowed with a flirting smile.
“Appearances are deceiving, Violet, and you know that, better than anyone else. You thought Jagger was a kid.”
I swallow the last drop of juice, place the empty glass on the counter, and lean against the balustrade.
“True?”
“Yes,” I admit, embarrassed.
“And you don’t think much differently about me.”
I struggle to hold his eyes.
“Probably...” I murmur. “Although I’m not so sure anymore.”
Smoothly, he erases the space between us, his hands gripping the railing on either side of me.
I lean back. He comes closer.
“You’re not afraid of me, are you?” he asks softly, his lips only inches away from mine.
I shake my head one too many times not to make it clear how much he affects me.
Calm and confident, he lets his hands slide to my hips and moves them slowly, learning my curves.
Holding my eyes captive with his gaze, he touches the apex of my thighs with his knuckles.
I freeze, boiling beneath my skin.
“Do you still think I’m shy?” he asks, amusement flashing in his voice as he takes in my turmoil.
I sway my head side to side.
“Good. At least we made that clear,” he says, moving his hands up slowly, his fingers brushing the bare skin at my waist.
My hands slide on his fingers.
He stops moving them and looks at me.
“What are you doing,” I ask, serious.
He smiles, and leans to me.
“You know exactly what I’m doing...” he says, breathing softly on my lips.
“How can you be so sure I have nothing against... it?” I ask quietly.
His fingers grip my chin, his thumb caressing my lips before he tilts his head and places a soft kiss.
“You mean... nothing against me?”
I nod softly, my heart hammering my chest.
“We can find the answer right now,” he whispers in my ear, and something melts inside me.
He snakes his arm around my waist and brings me close to him, and then he cups my face.
“Braxton?” I gasp as I feel the rush of heat sweeping my body.
“Yes, baby...” he says so tenderly, I turn to fluid in his arms.
My lips part and drink his breath. I feel the smooth touch of his lips as they connect with mine.
He presses his tongue between my lips, and I welcome him inside. My tongue slides over his, his warmth seeping into my blood. He holds me tight against his chest, our bodies quickly boiling.
The sky falls on me.
“Braxton?” I gasp, tearing my lips away.
Smiling satisfied, he runs his thumb over his lips and slants his gaze down.
“You didn’t tell him. Why?”
“Tell him what?” I mumble.
He raises his eyes, a small smile dangling from his lips.
“Don’t play with me, baby,” he purrs, the warmth of his voice spreading unrelenting heat over my skin. “You know exactly what I’m talking about... ” he murmurs, his thumb trailing my lips. “You liked watching that woman suck my cock, didn’t you?”
A reaction surges through my body, and I can’t stop the shudder.
“Yeah, you fucking did,” he says with a quiet voice as if we share a secret. “It turned you on, didn’t it?” he rasps in my ear, his palm running up my thigh, slipping under my dress.
I arch against him, hot and wet and pulsing, and he grinds into me, full and hard between his legs.
“Braxton?” I murmur, completely lost, my nails clawing at his arms.
“You’re not who you seem to be either, Violet,” he says softly. “You have wild blood in you... just like him,” he says, his gaze sweeping my lips. “You’re all he’s ever wanted, and I know why he loves you. I’d love you, too,” he says, and my legs are about to fold under me as his blue gaze flows through me, wreaking havoc.
“Please don’t do this, Braxton...” I murmur, my heart flipping and spinning inside my chest.
His eyes narrow with a smile.
“I’m not doing anything, baby... It’s inevitable.” He slides his fingers down my neck, leaving streaks of fire in its wake. “You don’t know much about us,” he breathes in me and looks down briefly, the hem of my dress slowly riding up as he smoothly wedges his thigh between my legs.
My hands slide onto his bare chest, his nipples puckering beneath my fingers.
He looks back to me, his eyes filled with hunger.
“I know you love him,” I murmur, and a mysterious smile sets his eyes ablaze.
“I do,” he admits.
“Then you can’t do this to him...”
He shakes his head slowly.
“I’m not doing anything to him. I love him more than myself, and I would never cross him. I would never do something he doesn’t want me to...” he says, and my heart stops.
Our eyes stay connected for what feels like an eternity, and then he curves his lips into a secret smile as he brings them close to mine.
“You’re not just any woman, Violet. Whether he knew it or not, he picked you just the right way,” he breathes in me.
He cups my face, his lips softly touching mine, teasing me, not kissing me, just stirring what he needs to stir inside me, so he can tempt me and pull me to him.
As the sound of Jagger’s footsteps shifts through the air, he straightens his back and pulls away from me, and it feels as if he just left my body.
He steps to the side and leans against the railing, next to me, as Jagger stops in front of me.
Cold and damp from the shower, his skin smells like a minty winter. A pair of soft, slashed jeans, barely hangs onto his hips.
“Jagger...?” I call him with a shaky voice.
Without a word, he winds his arm around me and presses his body into mine, and fireworks go off over my skin.
“I...”
My voice trails off, and I give up as he doesn’t seem to be the least interested in what I have to say.
Ignoring Braxton, or perhaps not, he runs his hands up the back of my thighs, smoothly cupping my butt. His fingers slip between my legs, brushing the soaked panties.
Braxton’s eyes go down on us.
“Don’t mind him,” Jagger mutters.
I glance at Braxton who’s observing us with smiling eyes.
“He’ll only watch,” Jagger murmurs against my lips, his words making my blood combust. And then he mutters in my ear. “Whatever will happen from now on, Violet, don’t fear. Trust me, and trust him... You’re not going to regret it. I promise.”
He pulls back, his eyes, bright and clear, studying me for a moment, and then he crashes his lips on mine, his tongue entering my mouth. My senses explode under his touch. I start to moan in his mouth, writhing against his body, and he slips his hand under my skirt, and his fingers in my panties, swiftly entering me.
I arch and groan, and then I hear the footsteps, out of the corner of my eye catching Braxton rushing inside the house.
“Jagger?”
Urgency flashes in my voice.
He reaches between my legs, hooks his fingers inside my panties and rips them off me.
Crazed, he raises his eyes.
“I need to fuck you right now...” he growls.
He lifts me to the handrail, opens his jeans, grabs his cock and plunges into me in one swift motion, my legs wrapping around him.
A squeal lifts off my lips while the tension spikes and shatters, the shockwaves of pleasure flowing through me. Eyes half closed, he slants his gaze down to me and comes in full splendor, his body shuddering, his lips parted, his chest heaving, roaring as he fills me with his hot release.
JAGGER
&
nbsp; I tried to stay away from you... I fought myself and fooled myself. I even lied to you and me, but it was all in vain. It’s like a curse that brought me to my knees.
I tried to run away, and yet, I’m here, so close to you... You’re real, alive, yet shifting all the time, impossible to catch, define, and love... You’re like a gust of wind, a fist of sand, the crest of broken waves. You’re filled with life... and so addictive.
You are my summer and the ocean I so much love...
How can I forget this?
How can I escape it?
“What the hell are you doing?”
Braxton’s voice crashes in my ears as he slams a door behind me.
I roll off the bed, his laptop in my hand.
He lunges at me, gives me a shove and yanks it from me. Careless, he slams it shut and throws it on a chair.
His eyes fly at me, heavy with anger.
“What the hell are you doing here, Jagger?”
“Nothing... I couldn’t sleep,” I say, lowering myself on his bed.
He puffs.
“And that’s a reason to stick your nose in other people’s business.”
“I didn’t. You were in the bathroom. What the fuck do you want from me, man? I didn’t do anything. Since when are you so secretive about stuff anyway?”
“I’m not secretive.”
“Then what is it, Braxton?”
My eyes dip to the towel wound around his waist, my lips curving into a teasing smile.
“I know you need to get laid, man, but take it easy for fuck’s sake...”
His hands grip his hips, his chest and abs hardening. I prop myself up on my hands and sit upright, ready to propel myself out of the door in case he charges at me.
Shaking his head, he runs his thumb over his lips, evading my gaze.
“What’s that, Braxton?” I ask serious, my eyes following him as he walks around the bed and crashes next to me.
“What’s what?” he asks, pretending he has no clue what I’m talking about.
“Since when have you been writing?”
“I’m not writing.”
“Then, what is that?”
I point to the laptop.
He runs his fingers through his hair, a smile breaking out on his lips.