by L.H. Cosway
When we arrive at a nearby crepe café and go inside, we get a table by the window. I order peanut butter and Nutella crepes with no small amount of delight, and Jay is so taken with my childlike glee that he goes for the same. Jessie asks for a BLT, not indulging in my “dessert for dinner” idea.
“Okay,” I say after we’ve been served our food and I’ve stuffed down half of mine already. I need a breather before I can finish it all. “I really, really, really would be forever indebted to you if you just revealed how you did one trick. Just one, that’s all I’m asking for.”
Jay wipes his mouth with a napkin, his lips forming a smirk. “When you say ‘forever indebted,’ just what are we talking about here?”
Jessie makes a foreboding sound. “No way, sweetheart. You don’t want to do that. This fucker’s a slave driver when you owe him.”
“Okay, well, maybe I won’t be forever in your debt. Perhaps I was getting a little carried away with myself. If you tell me one trick, I’ll owe you one thing in return. You can decide, but it has to be reasonable, like washing your car or something.”
Jay leans forward and steeples his fingers in front of him. “Will you wash my car topless?” he asks huskily.
My cheeks colour, and Jessie lets out a bark of a laugh. “Oh, now, that is a good idea.”
“Okay, let me amend my offer. I will owe you, but it can’t be sexual.”
“Topless isn’t sexual,” says Jay. “Topless is natural.”
“I second that,” Jessie adds.
“How about braless?” Jay goes on.
God, these two. Why do I even bother?
“Fine. I retract my offer,” I huff, sitting back in my seat and folding my arms.
“Hey, now, I never said I wouldn’t agree to nonsexual. How about this? I’ll tell you how I did one trick, and in exchange you have to come work with me the next time I do some shows in Vegas?”
I stare at him for a long time. “Uh, how is that payment? That’s a free holiday.”
“A working holiday,” Jay amends.
“Okay, you don’t have to threaten me with a free holiday twice,” I say, smiling widely. “It’s a deal.” I reach out and we shake on it, Jay clasping my hand tight.
“It’s a deal, darlin’. Now, tell me which trick you want me to explain.”
“Oh, my God,” says Jessie. “This is new. You never told me any of your secrets until I’d signed on the dotted line.”
“Matilda made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”
“Of course she did.”
Ignoring their banter, I try to think of which trick I want explained. It feels like there are so many. “All right, I suppose what I really want to know is how you got the Justice card drawn on Una Harris’ window. It definitely wasn’t there beforehand, and it was up way too high for you to reach.”
Jay rubs at his chin, looking around the café. “Ah, now, that one is elementary, my dear Watson. I think I’m gonna need some props for this explanation, though.” He gets up from his seat and walks over to the service counter, having a word with the guy on duty. Then he comes back carrying a shaker of paprika and a squeezy bottle of honey. Yuck, does he plan on putting those together on his pancakes?
Jessie looks a little disgruntled when he starts pushing all our plates out of the way to clear the table.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Just watch.”
Popping open the bottle of honey, he starts to pour it onto the surface of the table in quick movements. When I look down I see that he’s actually writing my name in stylish lettering. Pretty cool, but I still don’t get it. Next, he unscrews the cap on the paprika and pours some out into his hand before scattering the red spice all over the honey. Lastly, he bends down and blows hard. The excess paprika scatters away, leaving only the bits that have stuck to the honey. And there’s my name written in red.
“Okay, fancy,” I say, looking at him again, a niggling idea of his point forming in my head.
“That’s basically how I did it, though I’ll admit I had help. You remember meeting Sharon, who does wardrobe for my show?”
I nod.
“Well, she’s also a really great artist and works in unconventional mediums. Early this morning I paid the same guy you saw clean Harris’ window today to bring us up on the crane. Once there, Sharon drew an outline of the Justice card on the glass in washable glue, invisible unless you’re looking really closely. Harris’ office window is at an angle with the building next to it, so we bribed our way into the room facing Harris’. While I was holding the attention of the crowd, Sharon was there with a tube full of powdered chalk. She blew it out the window and it stuck to the glue, thus highlighting the image. The wind blew away the excess dust in only a few seconds, so the next time the crowd looked at the window, the image was there.”
Oh. That’s so fucking cool! It’s actually all very practical when explained like that. But you know what, I think I preferred not knowing. The mystery is part of the thrill. Well, at least I didn’t agree to wash his car topless.
“Happy now?” Jay asks.
“It’s certainly very clever. I don’t know how you think of these things. They’re just so slick.”
He grins. “Why, thank you.”
“But why do it on Una Harris’ office window? Isn’t that just asking for trouble?”
“Hey, I’ve kept my distance for long enough. She needs to know I’m not going to lie down and play dead while she stomps all over my career.”
“I think she’ll get the message once you file the lawsuit,” I say, and a sad thought hits me. If Dad really is going to represent Jay, then he’s probably going to have to move out. I completely forgot about that.
“You’re thinking about something you don’t like. What is it, Watson?”
I glance up at him, startled by how clearly he can read my thoughts. “Oh, nothing. Just stuff.”
“What kind of stuff?”
Looking down, I run my finger over the rim of my glass. “Well, if all this goes ahead, then you’re going to have to move out, and I’ve kind of gotten used to having you around,” I admit quietly.
He grabs my hand, taking it into his big warm palm. “Hey, we’re besties now, aren’t we? I’ll still be around all the time. So much you’ll probably be sick of the sight of me. Also, I won’t be moving for another few weeks until I find someplace else.”
I cough, embarrassed now. “Okay.”
“I thought I was your bestie,” Jessie teases.
“You are. I can have two besties,” Jay replies.
He holds onto my hand for another few seconds before letting it go. “Well, look at this. You didn’t want me to move in, and now you don’t want me to leave.”
“No need to be so smug about it,” I reply, narrowing my eyes at him and trying not to smile.
***
The next morning I get up early to help Dad pack. Every couple of months he and his friend Marcus go on golfing weekends down the country. Usually I don’t like being alone in the house, but since Jay is going to be here, I’m not so down about it. In fact, I’m really looking forward to being alone with him. What? I own a vagina and he’s Jay Fields; therefore, I’m allowed to be excited, even if nothing’s going to happen.
After Dad leaves, I make a trip to the fabric shop in town to stock up, planning a long weekend of dressmaking. I even have two new online orders to work on.
Arriving home, I find Jay in the garden, working out. I leave him to it for a while, then decide to go and see if he wants anything to eat. I’m being brave because it’s hard not to get all flustered when he’s sweaty and topless. Just as I’m about to walk out the door, he’s walking in, and we clash. He’s holding an energy drink, and it spills all over my top. I gasp loudly when the cold liquid hits me.
“Shit, sorry!”
Jay goes to grab some paper towels and comes back to help dry off my top. I stand there, speechless, as he dabs at the wetness. It’s one of those surreal mo
ments where I can’t believe what’s happening is actually happening — mainly because the spillage is in the general vicinity of my boobs, and therefore, Jay is touching my boobs.
I breathe quickly when his thumb accidentally brushes my nipple through my thin bra, and his hand pauses. Every second feels like an eternity. I make the mistake of looking up into his eyes. He looks…hungry. When his hand moves again, it isn’t a dab, it’s a caress, and a strangled whimper escapes me. The paper towel falls from his hand as he full-on feels me up, still maintaining complete eye contact. If I wasn’t consumed by nerves, I’d probably slap him for being so brazen. There’s a question in his gaze.
Can we…?
His hand cups my breast, and I let out a quiet, barely audible sigh. I close my eyes.
“Matilda.” His voice is low, gravelly.
“Hmmm?”
“Look at me.”
I look at him. His other hand comes up and starts caressing my other breast, slowly, carefully, as though he’s savouring every moment. Both hands move down in unison and pinch each of my nipples. I moan loudly, and his face hovers over mine, his mouth open as though swallowing the sound.
Then he speaks. “This top is ruined. Let’s get it off you, darlin’.”
He starts to pull it up over my head, and I don’t stop him. It’s the oddest moment for me to think of yesterday, when he’d slipped his hand inside the businessman’s pocket. I hadn’t seen him take anything, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t. I’m standing in front of him in only my bra now as his eyes drink me in. My chest heaves, but the question niggles at me, pushing to be asked.
“Jay?”
“What is it, Matilda?” he purrs, stepping forward as I take a step back. When my back hits the wall, he stops, his chest a bare inch away from mine.
“What did you steal from that man yesterday?”
His brow furrows, and his head tilts to the side. “What man?”
“The one outside the newspaper building who you bumped into. I saw you slip your hand in his pocket. I remember him from the casino, you know. You couldn’t stop staring at him.”
He swears under his breath, his hand coming up to caress my face as he whispers, “You weren’t supposed to see that.”
“But I did. So tell me what you took.”
“You really are my little Watson, aren’t you? Nothing escapes these baby blues,” he says, and it feels like he’s trying to distract me with the compliment.
“Jay, I want to know what you took. You can’t go stealing from people who work for the newspaper when you’re trying to build a lawsuit against them. Any tiny detail could go against you in court.”
“What if I told you no one will ever find out about it?”
“I’d still want to know. I don’t like lies.”
“This isn’t a lie. It’s a secret. One I need to keep for now, but I will tell you…someday.”
I purse my lips, suddenly irritated by the sticky energy drink that’s coating my skin. I frown and sidestep him, grabbing the top he just took off me and walking to the door.
“I need to go take a bath and wash this crap off me,” I mumble.
“Matilda.”
“It’s fine. You can keep your secrets, Jay. Just don’t expect me to fully trust you so long as you do.”
There’s an odd expression on his face as I walk out of the room, a strange mix of frustration and hurt.
Eighteen
Upstairs, I close the bathroom door and lock it before exhaling a long breath. Once I’ve gathered myself, I fill the tub. After what just happened, I don’t trust Jay not to waltz right in while I’m bathing. I’m still annoyed at him for being secretive, but I’m also regretting putting a stop to whatever it was we were doing. These days it feels like I need his touch like I need air to breathe, and it’s so seldom that I actually get it.
I strip off once the tub’s full and step in, the warm water soothing my nerves. It’s like every single one of my muscles is wound up tight.
I stay there for a long while, my eyes closed, trying to forget about Jay’s hands on me. It was so unexpected, and I can still feel him touching me, how it made me ache, made me instantly wet. It’s been so long since I’ve been with a man, and even then he wasn’t really a man, just a boy. My ex-boyfriend (and only boyfriend) was the same age I was. Neither of us really had a clue what we were doing half the time.
I can’t imagine it being like that with Jay. Granted, he’s only four years older, but he seems so much more…experienced than I am. I feel like he could teach me things I couldn’t even fathom. I see him in my head, out in the garden doing pushups on the grass, his muscles moving, flexing, sweat dripping off him.
It’s times like these that I wish I owned a vibrator. Christ, I feel like I didn’t even own a libido until Jay came into my life. Now my mind is just a churning bucket of frustration and sexual thoughts.
I remember the night he’d offered to go down on me. He probably puts just as much dedication into the act as he does everything else. My skin tingles just thinking about it, my nipples hardening in the water. My hand rests innocently on my belly, but as my erotic thoughts take over, I start to stroke my skin, breath whooshing out of me as I imagine Jay’s hand doing it.
My thighs fall apart as my fingers move lower, dancing whisper soft over my sensitive flesh, my clit throbbing to be touched. A second later I jump in fright when someone knocks on the door.
“Darlin’, can we talk?” comes Jay’s deep voice. I have to bite my lip not to moan at the sound of it. Feeling daring, I seek out my clit, rubbing it slowly. I mean, the door is locked. He’ll never know. A little thrill goes through me.
Finally, I answer quietly, “This isn’t a good time.”
I hear his body slide down the door, his bottom hitting the floor as he sits. “I’ll stay out here. I don’t like fighting with you, Watson. We’re supposed to be besties, remember?”
“I’m — I’m taking a bath, Jay. We can talk later,” I manage, trying to sound normal, but my breathing is far too laboured. I shouldn’t be touching myself with him right behind the door, but I can’t seem to help it. Reaching up, I mould my breast in my hand and pinch my nipple, sending tremors all throughout my body.
I realise that Jay’s been quiet for far too long. I didn’t make any noises, did I? No, I know I didn’t. I’m not that reckless.
“How’s your bath going?” he asks. His voice sounds different now, lower.
“I said we’ll talk later. Can you go?” I croak, unable to help sliding my fingers inside myself, my walls clenching tight around them.
There’s a smile in his voice when he goes on, “What are you doing in there, baby?”
“Nothing,” I answer, a little too quickly.
“Okay, you keep on doing nothing. I’ll just sit here while you’re at it. This spot is surprisingly comfortable.”
Bastard. I want to tell him to leave again, but I know he’s not going to. I’m on the cusp of coming, that crazy place where you’re too full of pleasure to stop. You want the release so badly that for those few insane moments you don’t care if somebody’s listening. If they know exactly what you’re doing. Embarrassment is a land far, far away.
I pinch my nipple again as I rub at my clit fast now, my foot braced against the end of the tub. I’m so close to coming, but it’s Jay’s voice that sends me over the edge.
“You making yourself feel good?” he asks, his voice a quiet, rumbling caress.
A tiny moan escapes me before I can stifle it, and I come on my hand, my entire body pulsating with the pleasure.
“Yes,” I answer softly, coming down from the high.
My heart jolts when the doorknob turns. I remember that I locked it, though, and I breathe evenly.
“What are you doing?” I demand.
“I want to come in,” he murmurs, still behind the closed door.
“I’m in the bath. Naked!”
“Exactly,” he answers. I can tell the exact smug exp
ression he’s got on his face right now, even though I can’t see him. There’s a curious scratching sound at the lock, and I wonder what he’s up to. When the knob turns again and the door starts to open, I dive out of the tub, slamming my body against the door to keep it shut.
Keeping my body against the door, I reach over and grab a towel to cover myself.
“Did you just pick the fucking lock?” I gasp, wrapping the towel around my body.
“Another of my many talents,” Jay replies.
“You’re overstepping the line.”
His tone is dark — reprimanding, almost. “Oh, so now there’s a line. You just let me listen to you masturbate, darlin’.”
Okay, so when he puts it like that, it’s kind of hard to argue with him. Still, my immediate response is to deny everything. “I don’t know what on earth you’re talking about, but you need to get away from the door and leave me alone.”
I open it just a sliver and peek my head out to show him I mean business. Unfortunately, when his eyes lock on mine, I melt. He sucks in a breath when he sees me, his hand reaching through the crack to touch my chin. Then his thumb moves up and brushes my bottom lip.
“Fuck, look at you,” he growls.
I’m so caught up in the way he’s staring at me, like he could devour me whole, that I forget to keep my hold on the door. He pushes it open easily and pounces on me, lifting me up into his arms, my legs straddling his waist, and carrying me into my bedroom. He settles me down on the mattress, moving to brace himself above me.
“Such a temptation,” he whispers, like he’s reprimanding himself. “How the fuck do I resist this?”
I’m not anticipating it when his mouth descends on mine, taking my lips in a hard, frenzied kiss that I feel all the way to my toes. My skin grows hot and feverish. I moan into his mouth as his tongue plunders inside, tangling with mine, sliding in and out. My legs fall apart, and he pushes into me, his erection grinding hard into my sex. I feel empty, aching to have him inside me.