Worth Forgiving

by Vi Keeland

  She gasps, but averts her eyes.

  “Lily.” I say her name sternly. Her eyes jump back to mine. “Answer me.”

  She looks conflicted, but whispers her truth anyway, “Yes.”

  “You have till three, but I’m kissing you, crossing the line from business to pleasure or not, unless you stop me.”

  Her eyes widen, but she doesn’t say anything. We’re still pressed tightly against each other, there’s no way she can miss the erection testing the limits of the seams of my jeans.

  “3,” I begin my countdown.

  Her eyes widen more.

  “2.”

  Her mouth opens but no words tumble out.

  “1.” The second the number leaves my mouth, I kiss her. Her lips may have begun to open to protest, but I don’t give her a chance to get the word out.

  At first it’s gentle, our lips softly touching and tongues beginning to explore each other. Until I feel her push her breasts against my chest, a silent affirmation that she wants the kiss as much as I do. Then I can’t get enough fast enough. The hand that was gently weaving through her thick blond hair, clenches a fistful and I tug, forcing her head back more so I can deepen the kiss. Lily moans in response to the harshness of my action and it makes me god damn wild. Pilfering her mouth, pushing harder against her, I reach down and grab one leg firmly, lifting it and guiding it to wrap around my waist. Her other leg follows without my direction.

  Her thighs spread wide, legs wrapped around my waist, the heat between us blends to the point of combustion. There’s fire pulsating through my veins, and my mind and body join together with only one purpose. This kiss. It consumes me as quickly as it started. Her smell, her moan, the feel of her luscious body pressed hard against mine. I have no idea how long it lasts, but however long it is, it’s definitely too damn short. Breathless, we both come up for air. But I’m not ready to let go just yet. I take her bottom lip, the one that has been taunting me since I met her, between my teeth and nibble on it. When my nip turns harsher, she makes a sound that is a cross between a gasp and a moan, and it takes every ounce of my self-control to not carry her into my bedroom while keeping our mouths locked so she can’t object to my ramming myself into her.

  As difficult as it is, I force my self-control back. Eventually I release her mouth and we stay quiet, both of us panting uncontrollably, our foreheads pressed against each other, eyes closed, until our breathing returns to normal.

  Lily’s the first one to speak, although her voice is more of a whisper. “You didn’t count from one to zero.”

  “I’m a go on one guy, Angel.” I brush a lock of hair that has fallen free from her braid back behind her ear.

  She smiles, but I see her senses are starting to flood back. Whatever is holding her back, regains its grip on her mind. “We can’t, Jax,” she whispers, her voice sounding as disappointed to say the words as it does for me to hear them spoken.

  We’re both silent for a minute, both of us staring into each other’s eyes. As if on cue, the sound of one of our phones buzzing on the nearby table catches both our attention.

  “Yours or mine?” I ask without moving. She looks around me to check. Her phone is jumping around the table, the vibration making a tapping sound against the wood.

  “Mine.” Her face saddens. Before her phone can even stop buzzing, a second buzz begins, signaling my phone now has a caller too. Looking over at the table and then back to me, the corner of her lips turning upward, a hint of amusement showing, she says, “And yours.”

  Breaking the tension the kiss left in its wake, we both laugh, neither of us even attempting to answer the calls. I step back a little, not wanting to force her into something, even though her body seems to be doing the talking. Strands falling loosely from her braid, her cheeks flushed and lips swollen from my kiss, she looks beautiful. Not ready for her to leave, fearing she will run out on me again like she did last night if I don’t give her some space, I decide my original plan still might be fun.

  “You think you can outrun a few photographers?”

  She smiles, perking up at the thought of an adventure. “Absolutely.”

  ***

  The evening crowd has dwindled, only a handful of diehard paparazzi still wait, hanging around the darkened gym. Both donning sweatshirts pulled up covering half our faces, I tell Lily to go right and I go left when we open the door and make a run for it. Lily locks the door before she leaves, allowing the photographers to begin snapping pictures and shouting out questions to her. I make a mad dash left, half of the photographers following me.

  Ten minutes later we meet at our planned location, both of us able to lose the photographers on the chase.

  “Nice work,” I say, impressed at her ability to lose people during a chase.

  “Not the first time I’ve had to run to get away from someone.” Lily smiles mischievously, there’s a whole story there I want to hear about. But for now, we need to keep moving, put more distance between the mice and the cheese.

  We walk a block, both of us spotting one of the photographers that was giving chase on the other side of the street, before he spots us. I grab Lily’s hand, changing direction and increasing our pace to a jog. “Come on.”

  Chapter 11

  Lily

  We weave in and out of streets for almost half an hour, until Jax is comfortable no one is following us anymore. Our fingers still woven and hands tightly entwined, I’m not even paying attention to where we are heading. Content in easy conversation that comes effortlessly, and the feeling of Jax’s big hand meshed with mine, I stop as we arrive at where Jax must have been heading all along. Bethesda Fountain.

  “Now you won’t have that one to use as a lie anymore,” Jax says with a grin, pulling me toward the fountain.

  “I think you really are crazy.” I tease, laughing that he brought me to the fountain just so I could dip my feet in. “Have you dipped your feet in?”

  Slowly, Jax shakes his head back and forth, no.

  “Well take your shoes off, Mister. I’m not getting cholera alone.”

  Without argument, he does. I reach over and pensively feel the water…it’s freezing and the cool air of the late summer evening doesn’t make me want to jump in so quickly. “It’s cold,” I whine, sounding like a little girl, my nose crinkling.

  Jax reaches down and feels the water. A wicked smile crosses his lips…just before he splashes me with a wall of water from the fountain, drenching me completely from head to toe.

  “You. Did. Not. Just do that,” I growl, shocked by his actions.

  Jax stands, folding his arms over his chest, an undeterred smile still spread wide across his perfect face. “I did.”

  Trying my best to gather as much water as possible, I splash as much as I can back in his direction. Jax jumps back and not one drop hits him. He arches one eyebrow.

  “I’m soaked!” I shriek, to which Jax’s dirty grin and another playful arch tell me where his gutter brain took my comment without the necessity of words.

  I try again, in vain, to splash him, but it’s no use. I don’t have the element of surprise like he did and he sees it coming every time.

  “Jackson Knight!” I scold, water still dripping from my nose.

  “Lily St. Claire,” he mocks me in response.

  “You wait. I’ll get even when you least expect it.” It’s a promise, not a threat. He doesn’t know it, but I can be a grudge holder, playing at getting even is a sport to me.

  “Can’t wait.” He has the audacity to smile, like it’s something he actually is looking forward to. “Now, go on, dip your toes in.”

  “Dip my toes in? Half my body is soaked, I hardly think it’s necessary for my toe to go in at this point.”

  “Oh it’s necessary, alright.” Jax heads toward me, a look of determination on his face. I run the other way. It takes less than one full lap around the fountain until he catches up with me. Lifting under my knees, he cradles me as he walks toward the cold, flowing wa
ter. My playful cries completely ignored as he steps over the concrete circular bench surrounding the fountain and walks straight in with me in his arms.

  “No!” I squeal, realizing he’s heading straight for the center of the fountain, where the waterfall is still running. I try my best to get out of his grip, kicking and screaming, flailing my legs around, but it’s no use. He only smiles with delight at my attempts as he steps under the ice-cold cascading water. We’re both drenched from head to toe by the time he climbs out of the fountain, me still in his arms.

  I should be angry, but the whole scene is comical. It’s late, yet there are still a few people milling around and they’ve all stopped to watch the scene we’ve created. Some aren’t sure whether I’m really angry or we’re playing. Either way, with the size of Jax, and the muscles rippling through his wet shirt, not too many people would intervene anyway.

  Both still laughing, Jax eventually places me back on my feet, sliding me down his wet, hard body. I’m not sure if it’s intentional or not, but the man has a way of heating me up, even when I’m soaked, wet and freezing. A chill passes over me as my chest glides over his.

  “Cold?” Jax asks.

  “What would give you that idea?” I reply sarcastically as I ring a puddle of water out from my hair.

  Jax looks to my nipples and back to me and smiles. No response necessary. “Here, put this on.” He hands me his sweatshirt. It’s as equally drenched as everything I’m wearing.

  “Umm…I don’t think that’s necessary. I have my own dripping sweatshirt.”

  “Your dripping sweatshirt is white and you’re cold. Put it on.”

  I look down to find my nipples protruding and my three layers of white clothes almost transparent. Jax is helping me put on his sweatshirt before I even agree.

  ***

  The dripping has stopped by the time we arrive back at my apartment, but that’s the extent we have dried off.

  “Do you want to come up and dry off? The paparazzi will probably have a field day if you go walking up looking like that.”

  “Finally, something good coming from the photographers that hound me. I get an invite up,” Jax says with a devilish grin on his face.

  After seeing his hotel suite, I’m pretty sure my place is going to look like a closet to him. It’s unlike me to be self-conscious about things, yet I can’t help but be a bit nervous as I invite him in.

  “This is me. It’s not exactly a suite at the San Marcos, but make yourself at home.”

  Jax looks around, taking in my shabby chic style. My old butcher block kitchen table surrounded by four different, ornately decorated, lush fabric chairs. Nothing matches, but it all works together. At least I think so.

  “I feel like I just walked into one of those high end stores that are trying to look funky and chic. Except they come off as copied and imitating the real thing. I just never knew what they were trying to copy, until now. This place is great.”

  I smile, keeping the fact that I designed and made half of the pieces to myself.

  “Come on…I’ll give you something to change into.”

  Jax follows me into my tiny bedroom. The closet is organized, but filled to the brim. I pull out a pair of men’s sweatpants and a t-shirt and hand it to him.

  He takes it, but looks up at me hesitantly. “Are these…”

  “Reed’s,” I fill in the blank. “He won’t mind. We keep clothes at each other’s apartments. Sometimes we do movie marathons and lay in bed for two days in a row.”

  Jax nods, looking relieved. “Have you two been close since you were little?” He begins to peel off his pants.

  “Umm…there’s a bathroom right over there.” I point down the hall.

  “Sorry. Figured we were past the shy stage. You already saw me in my boxers.” He grins and wiggles his eyebrows. “And I saw you naked.”

  “Yes, but your boxers are soaked too…aren’t you going to take them off?”

  Jax stops undressing and looks at me appalled. “It’s not cool to go commando in another guy’s pants.”

  I giggle, “I’m pretty sure if Reed found out you were commando in his pants, he’d never wash them again.”

  “On second thought, maybe I’ll keep my wet clothes on,” Jax teases.

  “Just change in here. Take everything off and I’ll dry it for you.”

  “If you wanted me out of my clothes, you could have just asked,” he flirts his response.

  “You’re unbelievable.” I grab my clothes, toss a pillow at his face, and head to the bathroom. I hear Jax’s low chuckle all the way down the hall.

  Chapter 12

  Jax

  Lily wipes her face clean of the makeup that was smudged and dries her hair with a towel. Emerging from the bathroom wearing a pair of sweatpants rolled down at the waist and a pink tank top, I catch a sliver of her slim waist as she ties her damp hair back into a ponytail. She’s the girl next door. The one that makes a boy have sweet dreams for years without even trying. Wet, sweet dreams.

  “What?” She tilts her head and looks herself up and down. My stare making her think something is out of place.

  “Nothing.” I grin. Jesus Christ this woman gives me a hard on wearing sweats.

  “You’re staring at me like I have my underwear on the outside,” she teases.

  Underwear. Lily’s underwear. Get control of yourself man, or she’s going to kick you out wearing some other guy’s clothes. “I like you with no makeup.” And your nipples are erect in that damn little tank top. Don’t stare, eyes high, stay on the face. Face only. I try to talk my eyes into working with me. It doesn’t work, like a magnet to its pull, they drop.

  She squints, not sure if I’m teasing her or not and shakes her head with a smile. “I’ll throw your clothes in to dry. You want something to drink?” She asks over her shoulder as she tucks my clothes into the dryer.

  “Sure. Whatever you’re having.”

  Grabbing two bottles of water, she hands me one, her face faltering a bit as she speaks, “I don’t have much else in the house. Hope this is okay?”

  “It’s great.” I try to assure her. I really could care less, but something seems to have shifted, her mood blue and distant.

  We settle in on the couch together. I’m glad it’s small, even though she sits at the other end, it’s still nice and close. “Here, give me your feet.” Reaching down, I pull her legs up and settle them on my lap. “They’re freezing,” I say as I take one into my hands. Her tiny pink painted toes are like little icicles.

  “That’s because someone soaked me in a cold fountain,” she teases, the smile coming back to her face.

  “That’s terrible.” I smirk as I begin rubbing her feet.

  “Wow. That feels good.”

  “I’m good with my hands,” I quickly counter, wishing I was showing her what I could do with them other places on her body.

  “Mmmm.” She closes her eyes and let’s out a small moan of appreciation as I work the arch of her foot with my thumbs. I rub up and down methodically, enjoying watching her face go slack as she relaxes into my touch. Perhaps I enjoy it a little too much, forcing me to shift slightly to disguise the bulge growing in my pants before she sees it.

  After another ten minutes, Lily opens her eyes, now hooded from the massage. “Seriously, that was incredible. I don’t even like people touching my feet.”

  “I’m not just any people,” I offer, trying to mask just how much I was enjoying touching any part of her. At this point, I’ll take what I can get. Sadly, I’ll settle for a foot.

  Lily rolls her eyes and attempts to pull her feet away, but I grab them, stopping her from recoiling.

  “What are you doing?” She asks as I hold firm on her feet

  “Keeping you comfortable.”

  Lily squints, eyeing me suspiciously. “With my feet on your lap?”

  “It’s a small couch. You shouldn’t have to be squished just because I’m here.” I offer as an explanation, although her face tel
ls me she’s not buying it. Yet she doesn’t attempt to pull her feet away again.

  “So, tell me, Jackson Knight. Do you have a girlfriend back home?”

  I shake my head no, grinning almost questioningly at her. “The position is open if you know someone.”

  “Hmmm…” she replies, teasingly, “…maybe I do. Tell me what you’re looking for.”

  Clasping my hands behind my neck, I pretend to deliberate over my answer. But I know exactly what I’m looking for. “She has to be smart,” I begin. “And love art.”

  “Art, huh?” Lily questions suspiciously.

  “Yep. You know, with my being an art history minor and all.”

  “Uh huh.” She plays along with a smile.

  “And I tend to like blondes, my preference with long wavy hair. Maybe the kind that picks up flecks of light, reminding you of spun gold.”

  “That’s pretty specific.”

  “Hey. I know what I like.” I shrug.

  “Of course you do,” she patronizes me.

  “And blue eyes. I’m definitely a sucker for blue eyes. There’s actually a certain blue that has a hint of green in it, almost like they can change based on mood.” I pause. “They’re pretty rare. But that’s the color I like best.”

  “Anything else?” She dares to ask.

  “Curves. I like a woman with curves. Not too skinny. Maybe about five foot three.” I rub my chin as if I’m pondering the description of the perfect woman. Although all I have to do is look in front of me if I forget anything.

  “Not five foot six? You sure?” Lily teases.

  “Positive. I’m pretty specific about the height.”

  “I’ll try to remember that. Anything else?”

  “Hmmm…” I pretend to give it due consideration before dishing out my final requirement. “She has to like foot massages.”

  “Foot massages?”

  “Yeah. I like to start at the foot.”

  Lily swallows, trying to pretend I’m not getting to her, but I can tell that I am. “Start?”

  I nod slowly. “I like to take my time. Get the tension out of her feet before I make my way up the leg. The calf. The inside of the thigh. The…”