by Reese Ryan
He’d come to her room at least twice a week after that until she’d decided to run away. That was when Mel’s parents had taken her in and become her legal guardians. Her mother had only been too glad to let her go. She’d always believed that deep down Jo knew the truth, though Jamie had never told her, or anyone. Maybe Jo had wanted to get rid of the competition. Either way, it’d worked out for both of them.
Jamie often remembered that night, mourned what she’d lost in the blink of an eye. More than the fact that he’d invaded her body and robbed her of her virginity and glittery memories of her first, she deplored the blazing resentment that infiltrated her soul, like a slow poison. It grabbed hold of her heart and squeezed out every ounce of humanity she might have had up to that point. Any potential she had to be...normal. After that night she’d been filled with anger and self-loathing that blackened every moment of her life and tainted every relationship she’d had since then.
She refused to think of that night in her darkened bedroom—with Leo crushing out every inch of her breath—as her first time. After all, it hadn’t been her choice to have a drunken thirty-two-year-old man creep into her bedroom in the middle of the night. But she’d been every bit as predatory when it came to her first time. It was with Xavier when they were both fifteen. They’d been playing video games at his house when she’d practically launched herself at him one night while his mother was working as a waitress. She’d gone there that night with one thought in mind. To lose her “virginity” on her own terms.
She’d had sex with Ex that night, not because she loved him or wanted to be his girlfriend, but because she’d needed to reclaim her power and to have another vision in her head when someone asked about her first time, even if she had no intention of telling them anything about it.
Every time she’d been with someone after that, her mentality had been much the same. It was a physical act meant to bring them both pleasure and perhaps shift the power in the relationship. But it was never anything deeper. It could never be something that made her tremble inside and feel like she was melting at her core. It could never be what she’d just experienced with Miles.
Jamie shuddered again, thinking of how he’d stared deep inside her. How intense his kiss had felt in the moments after that. How she’d felt like she was unraveling, piece by piece, like a crocheted sweater someone had pulled a thread on.
If she didn’t pull herself together right now, she’d risk exposing all of the nerves and emotions she buried so deeply over the years. And she wasn’t about to let that happen.
Placing her feet on the tile floor, she stood, her wobbly legs barely able to support her weight. She needed to get out of there. To create some distance between them. To regain control.
Jamie splashed water on her face and raked her damp fingers through her hair. She twisted her hair into a long, dark braid down her back. Then she took a deep breath and crept out into the bedroom. Miles had gone downstairs. She could hear him in the kitchen. Perfect.
The scent of them hung in the air. Just looking at the bed, sheets jumbled, made her hands shake. Once she’d located her bra, her skirt and her top, she slipped into her clothing as quickly as she could. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she strapped her boots back on.
Jamie placed a hand on her belly, raging with nerves. She took a deep breath and sighed. She needed to leave. Now. Miles would just have to understand.
* * *
Miles smiled to himself as he pulled three different types of cheese out of the refrigerator and began making them a snack.
He’d made love to her again. And again. What better way to christen his new king-size bed, the shower and the overpriced rug in his bedroom? She was fucking amazing in bed. Even better than he’d imagined.
By the time they’d made love in the shower, he had every one of her tattoos memorized. The butterfly wings that stretched the width of her lower back. The vine of flowers that circled her left ankle. The tribal tattoo that circled her right.
He’d also memorized every curve, every imperfection. He’d kissed his way along the skin of her thighs, the voluptuous ass that he could hardly look at now without getting a raging hard-on and the swell of those ridiculously perfect breasts.
He loved every inch of her. And he loved the confidence she had in her body. Not because it was perfect, though having seen the evidence, he could say with great certainty it was pretty damn close. But because she was uninhibited and completely at ease with her body. That kind of confidence was incredibly sexy.
He’d been with girls whose bodies had barely a curve and what he suspected was a negative amount of body fat. Yet they were reluctant to let him see them naked with the lights on.
Jamie had strode around his bedroom naked without apology, at ease with every inch of her frame. She’d seemed to enjoy the way the movement of her hips and the sway of her breasts made him breathe a little faster. This woman was a lethal vixen, unlike any woman he’d been with. All he could think of now was waking up in the morning and starting the whole game all over again.
She was gorgeous. She was unbelievably sexy. She was...coming down the stairs.
The condo was dark, except for the pendant lights he’d flicked on in the kitchen.
“Hey,” she said.
“Hey yourself.” He grinned for a moment then realized she was fully dressed, her purse hitched on her shoulder. “You’re not leaving, are you?”
She rummaged through her purse, her back to him. “I didn’t realize how late it’s gotten. I should head back to my place.”
“I’m making us a snack.” He put down the cheese knife he’d been using to cut Gruyere, Havarti and Brie. “Don’t leave. Not now. It’s been such an amazing night. I mean, it was for me, and I thought it was for you, too.”
She walked over to him, placed her hand on his shoulder and lifted onto her toes to kiss him on the cheek. “It was. That’s not it at all.”
“Then what is it?” he asked. “Did I say something to upset you?”
“No, it’s nothing like that. I don’t do the whole spending-the-night thing. It’s nothing personal, it’s just—”
He caught her arm as she tried to take a step backward, pulling her into him. “Couldn’t you make an exception? Just this once? After all, I made a cheese tray, and I got strawberries and red grapes—because you said you don’t really like the green ones. I’m fully prepared to do whatever it takes to keep you here tonight.” He forced a wide smile and stroked the side of her face with his thumb. “Just please, don’t go. Not yet.”
She bit her lip and averted her eyes. “You don’t have to drive me,” she said quickly. “I can catch a cab.”
“I’m not going to let you take a cab home.” He tried to prevent his disappointment and frustration from seeping into his voice but was doing a terrible job. “If you want to leave now, of course I’ll take you. But first, answer one question for me honestly.”
He could feel her back tense under his fingers, but she nodded. “Sure. What is it?”
“That last time we...well, it was incredible, and I felt like we really...I don’t know, connected. I know you felt it, too, because you’ve sort of been pulling away ever since then. So is this really about your overnight rule, or are you just trying to put some space between us?”
Her eyes widened and met his for a moment. She looked away quickly and pressed her flattened palms into his chest, pushing away from him. “I just need to go home, okay?” She folded her arms and turned her back to him. “Don’t try to make this about something else.”
He gently placed his hand on her shoulder. Her muscles were tense beneath his fingers. He leaned down and kissed the top of her head. “Then that’s all it is. I’ll go and get dressed.”
She nodded, exhaling. “Thank you.”
“You must be hungry though. I’m starving. What if we have a bite to eat first?”
She took a seat on one of the bar stools and plucked a red grape and a square of cheese from the tray he’
d been making. “I am kind of hungry. Hey, is that Gruyere? I love Gruyere.” She popped the cheese and fruit in her mouth and chewed. “Mmm...good.”
Miles smiled. Mmm...good. He’d been thinking the same thing when he’d had his first taste of her. He resumed slicing cheese, unable to avert his gaze from her as she opened her mouth and took a bite of one of the immense strawberries, followed by a piece of Havarti.
Did she have any idea how tantalizing she looked right now? He should be completely sated after the marathon lovemaking session they’d had in the previous hours, but he had a desperate need to take her again, right here on the counter. He groaned inwardly. He’d promised her that he’d take her home after they ate, and he would. But he didn’t have to like it.
He sliced another piece of Gruyere and extended it to her. The wily twinkle in her lovely green eyes made his heart skip a beat. She leaned forward and took the morsel from his fingers, nicking them a little with her teeth.
She walked around the island and wrapped her arms around his waist as she brushed her lips along the skin of his back, leaving nerves tingling in the wake of kisses that felt like zings of electricity. “You’ve got good taste in cheese. I like that in a man.”
Miles turned to face her, pulling her into him, his length pressed against her belly.
She was enjoying this. Seemed to revel in the power she had over his anatomy. A tight smile curled one corner of her mouth, and he had to delve his tongue between those luscious lips that teased him, daring him to have a taste.
“I should’ve known you only wanted me for my cheese.” He gently bit her earlobe.
She giggled. “And I thought I’d been so clever about it.”
His hand trailed down the braid, tugging her head back gently so her eyes met his. “You’re clever, alright, and extremely dangerous.”
“Clever and dangerous. Sounds like you’re outmatched.”
He released her braid and trailed kisses down her neck. “True, but I’m a pretty determined guy, so I won’t give up. Not until I convince you that I’m crazy about you. And that as much as I love that incredible body of yours...what I really want is all of you.”
She sank her teeth into her bottom lip and drew in a deep breath, her eyes meeting his for a moment then lowering to his chest, where she trailed her fingers through his hair. “Really?”
He lifted her chin, peering deep into those wickedly mysterious green eyes. “Really.”
Her hands were trembling, the bravado he’d seen a moment ago gone. He’d venture that there weren’t many things that scared Jamie Charles. But he could see the fear in her eyes so clearly. She hadn’t just avoided true intimacy, she was terrified of it. All of her rules and the tough-girl image were a ring of fire she’d surrounded herself with to keep everyone out. Only she didn’t realize that it imprisoned her as much as it protected her.
“Why is it so important to you that I stay?” Her lips were pressed into a slight grimace as she searched his face.
“Because you are an amazing woman, and I don’t want to miss a second with you,” he said, his palm pressed to her cheek. “Seeing this gorgeous face, hearing your infectious laugh...I can’t think of a more perfect way to start my day.”
Her gaze softened. A mischievous smirk replaced the wary look there a moment ago. “I’ll stay,” she said, barely able to keep a straight face, “but only because you have fancy cheese and premium cable.”
He laughed, taking her in his arms. Whatever her reason, if Jamie was breaking her sleepover rule for him, he’d make damn sure it was worth it.
Chapter Twelve
Jamie stood in front of her easel, working on a piece for another competition. It was a cityscape, inspired by the view from Miles’s apartment. She looked at the sketch she’d drawn, tacked to a smaller easel, then back at her painting. The shapes were right, but there was something off about the colors. They didn’t capture the mood she was going for. She tilted her head, trying to decide if she should go with more blue to darken the mood or if it would be better to use a burnt orange to capture the glow of the city just before the sun went down.
The buzzer startled her. She opened her door and stepped down a few stairs to the window over the driveway. It was Ex.
They hadn’t spoken since the night he’d valet-parked Miles’s car. She trudged down the stairs in her bare feet, shorts and T-shirt. A gust of cold air and snow greeted her.
“What are you doing here?” She stepped aside as he made his way inside the door.
He shut the door behind him, leaning against it. “Don’t act so happy to see me.”
“I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just...you usually call first.”
“I was in the neighborhood and I got Mongolian barbecue. I know how much you love this stuff. Besides, I haven’t seen you in a while and I wanted to check on you.”
Jamie wasn’t sure which had broken her resolve first—his pathetic grin or the delectable aroma. She hadn’t eaten all day and her stomach instantly growled in response to the scent. “I’m working, but I’ve always got time for a friend bearing food.” She elbowed him.
“Ladies first.” He waved his hand toward the stairs. The way he stared at her cutoff shorts told her it wasn’t chivalry that prompted the gesture.
“After you,” she said. “I insist.”
He shrugged, like he’d been busted, then made his way up to her apartment. “Damn, it’s hot in here, James.” He placed the bags on the coffee table and shrugged off his coat. He was wearing a heavy sweatshirt.
Her apartment had steam heat and she kept it as hot as a sauna. Even in the dead of winter she wore little more than a T-shirt and shorts, when she bothered to get dressed at all. She grinned. Maybe the combination of the stifling heat and the spicy food would encourage Ex to leave as soon as they’d eaten. “I like it hot. You should know that.”
“That I do.” A salacious grin spread across his face.
Jamie cringed and rubbed the back of her neck, gaze lowered. Flirting with Ex had become second nature, as familiar as breathing. But now a twinge of guilt tightened her throat and constricted her chest. It was wrong to encourage him. She would have to think more carefully before she spoke.
She gathered some mismatched plates and flatware then grabbed a couple of beers out of the fridge. After placing one in front of Ex, she twisted the cap off the other and sat on the floor in front of the coffee table. “This smells delicious. Thank you.” Jamie opened the box he’d left for her. It was spicy beef with broccoli and peppers—her favorite. She licked her lips. “You remembered.”
“How could I forget?”
Ellie hated Ex, so Jamie had rarely invited him to the house when she was a teenager. She’d usually meet him at the park, the record shop, or at the neighborhood Mongolian barbecue joint. Sometimes he’d just pick her up somewhere and take her back to his place. She bit her lip and tried not to think about it.
“Still valeting?” She took her first forkful of beef and tried not to moan too loudly as the flavors exploded in her mouth.
“Yeah. What, you think I can’t keep a steady gig?”
He kept a steady gig, alright. He’d been a low-level pot dealer since they were sixteen, which was why Ellie didn’t like him. She just wished he would keep a job that wasn’t likely to get him busted. “You know as well as I do that you don’t like working for ‘the man.’ So don’t get all sensitive on me.”
He chuckled. “Okay, you got me there. But I’ve been thinking of changing that.”
“Working a regular job?” She looked up from the food she’d been inhaling.
“I don’t plan to be no valet for the rest of my life or anything, but I’ve been thinking of doing something, you know...legit.”
She watched him with interest. “Like what?”
“My dad’s been trying to get me to take a job in his shop for years. Said he’ll teach me everything I need to know. He wants me to take over for him one day,” he said.
One of th
e many things they’d had in common was shitty, absentee fathers. A few years ago his father returned to town and bought a mechanic’s garage. He’d tried to get Ex to work there, but Ex had been making a ton of money selling pot to rich college kids back then. At the time he was still angry with his father and didn’t want any part of him. During the past year he’d softened his stance and they’d been forging a precarious relationship. Since Ex was seriously considering becoming the heir apparent to his father’s string of successful garages, she guessed the relationship was a bit more solid now.
“Wow, that’s great, Ex.” She pressed her lips into a smile.
“So, you think I should do it?” He watched her carefully.
“I think if that’s what you really want to do, you should. Not because this is what your dad wants, but because it’s what you want.” she said. “And if you do this, you should do it one hundred percent. That means giving up the weed business.”
He frowned and took a bite of his chicken. “That’s what my old man said, too. Funny. This is probably the first thing you two have ever agreed on.”
“Then it’s a sign.” She forced a smile.
“I guess.” He ate a few more mouthfuls. “What about you? You still working at that fancy-pants bar?”
“Tahlia’s.” She corrected him every time, but he wasn’t inclined to change his opinion of the place. “I love working there. There’s no way I’m leaving unless my art takes off enough for me to do it full-time,” she said. “But that’s a long time off.”
“Maybe not.” His put his fork down, his eyes didn’t meet hers. “I saw your painting.”
“At the Contemporary Museum of Art? What were you doing there? You hate museums.” She licked sauce off her fingers. When she looked up he was staring at her. Her spine stiffened.
He slid off the couch and onto the floor so he was sitting directly across from her. His voice was quiet. “I’d go anywhere for you, you know that. So why didn’t you tell me you came in third place?”