Love, Honor & Protect- Addicted to You 1

by Jamilia Fair

  I smile. "Never."

  I watch my mother step around Jeremiah's tall and muscular frame and head to the back where Benny, her cook, was. She pats his shoulder and he turns to her with a smile. I'd swear on a stack of bibles that that man has a soft spot for my mother.

  Jeremiah quickly slides into the booth and folds his hands on top of the table. He doesn't say anything, he's just staring at me.

  "What?"

  The corners of his lips slightly tilt up. "Am I not allowed to look at you?"

  I shrug. "I don't know. Are you?"

  A wide grin spreads across his lips, revealing pearly white teeth. "You're a beautiful and enchanting woman, Tabitha Davenport. You cannot blame a man for staring." The vibrations of his voice sent waves of heat all over and through my body.

  The words are out of my mouth before I can bite my tongue. "You're pretty sexy yourself, Jeremiah Keegan."

  His eyes flare up in surprise, then his mouth quirks up, and he stares appraisingly at me. "Thank you, Ms. Davenport."

  "You're welcome, Jeremiah," I say while staring into his eyes, captivated by the bright shade of green they were. I've never seen eyes so bright.

  He starts to say more, leaning in, but my mother appears at the table. "What can I get the two of you?"

  "I'll have the usual," I say, my eyes never leaving his.

  I hear her scribble something down before opening her mouth again. "When you're finished ogling my daughter, Mr. Keegan, let me know what you want."

  He doesn't seem bothered, at all or in any form, by my mother’s comment. He just smiles and turns his head to meet her, what I can assume, amused gaze. "I'll have what she's having." His eyes are back on me. "I'm up to try something new."

  "I bet you are," my mother says before turning and walking away.

  "She likes me," he says with a smile.

  I tilt my head slightly. "How'd you come to that conclusion?"

  He shrugs. "I just know."

  I fight the urge to roll my eyes. "Whatever you say."

  He stares at me for a moment, then leans forward on the table. "Can I ask you a question?"

  "You just did," I say with a smirk.

  He playfully glares at me. "Tabitha," he says in mock warning.

  I sit back against the cushioned seat. "Ask away, Jeremiah."

  His expression turns into a serious one. "What were you and Janice talking about earlier?"

  I swallow.

  "Why do you ask?" I hadn't known he'd been in the diner long enough to catch that.

  "You looked upset. I want to know why."

  I shake my head. "It's nothing I want to talk about."

  He reaches across the table and touches my hand. "Is there anything that I can do to help?"

  I smile at the sincerity in his voice and his gaze. "Thank you, but no."

  He gently squeezes my hand. "Are you sure?"

  Even the sound of his voice made me want him. My gaze fell onto his mouth. It was a mouth I've pictured all over my body every day since he kissed me outside the diner. I've imagined what they'd feel like on my neck, my breasts, my stomach, my back, my thighs, and lastly, my…

  "Tabitha? Are you all right?"

  I feel my face heat up and I shake my head free of such naughty thoughts. "Yes, I'm fine."

  "Are you sure?" he questions with a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. "You were biting your lip."

  "Yes, I'm sure." My voice is breathless.

  "What were you thinking about, Tabitha?"

  I decided to answer his question with a question. "Why do you want to know?"

  He shrugs. "I'm a curious man."

  I lean forward on the table and smile. "Curiosity killed the cat, Mr. Keegan."

  "I think I can handle it."

  "What do you think was going through my mind?" I ask him.

  He squeezes my hand and the corners of his lips turn up. "I thought you were going to lean over the table and kiss me," he says, amusement laced in his voice. "Going off how you were biting your lips, I'm going to assume your thoughts were far from innocent."

  There's this primal look in his eyes that sends a shiver through me, followed by a heated ache between my thighs as I imagine licking whipped cream off his sexy body.

  I don't try and hide the smile that spreads across my face. "Is that a crime, Jeremiah?"

  He leans closer, taking my hand in his, and rubs his thumb over the back of my hand. "It should be when the person teasing looks like you."

  "Teasing? I'm teasing you?" I ask, teasingly.

  He nods. "Painfully."

  I look down to avoid his gaze and the way his gaze made my body feel… It wasn't natural to feel that way about a man I just met, but I wanted him.

  Bad.

  Now.

  "Tabitha?"

  Trying to ignore my insane body and its reaction to the sound of his voice, I direct my attention to his watch. The straps are made of black leather and the face is wrapped in silver and gold trim. I'm sure it costs more than everything I have on.

  "Nice watch." I wanted to slap myself as soon as I spoke. Nice one.

  He smiles. "Thank you. It was a gift."

  "A gift from who?"

  "My father," he replies.

  For the next hour and a half, Jeremiah and I talked about any and everything. Not once did he hesitate to answer any of the questions I had and he genuinely seemed interested in learning more about me. He surprised me. Men like him don't really care about anyone but themselves… at least not the men I've met. I guess I was wrong. I smile at the thought.

  "What's funny?" The sound of his voice pulls me from my thoughts.

  I shake my head and smile. "Nothing."

  His eyes narrow speculatively. "All right. I'll pretend to believe you."

  Smiling, I glance at my watch and notice that it's fifteen minutes past two. "Shit. I'm late." I grab my bag and phone off the table.

  As I rise, he stands and holds out his hand. I stare at his hand for a moment, then lift my gaze to meet his.

  He tilts his head to the side, his eyebrows furrow in curiosity, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "What is it?"

  "I thought you'd jump at any chance, given or not, to pull me in for a hug."

  "Did you want me to hug you?"

  No. I want you to do a lot more to me than hug me, Jeremiah Keegan. I want you to bend me over this table and fuck me, long and hard, in front of everyone. I want you over me, under me, whatever. Just naked and doing something sexy to me.

  "I don't know, maybe. Do you want to hug me?"

  He nods. "I would like that very much."

  "Well, then, what are you waiting for?"

  He raises his eyebrows in surprise but quickly recovers before closing the space between us. His hands grip my waist for a moment, his gaze carnal, before they slowly slide around to my back where they rest just above my ass. He smells so fucking good. His masculine body wash mixed with his cologne nearly sends me over the edge. With shaking arms, I wrap my arms around his neck.

  My entire body stiffens when I feel his lips graze my ear. "Thank you for lunch."

  Oh, fuck! What is this man doing to me? I am going to have to get out of these panties before they stain the back of my dress.

  "I have to go," I manage to get out after he shows no sign of letting go anytime soon.

  His arms tighten around me. "I need more time." He presses me harder against him, my breasts flush against his chest.

  "I'm already late, Jeremiah. Let go." I was desperate to get away from this man before I did something I know I shouldn't.

  "Young man, she comes into this diner every day at the same time," my mother’s voice sounded from behind. "You'll see her again."

  After a moment, he finally draws back, but his hands remain on my waist. "Same time tomorrow?"

  "I won't be around at all this weekend."

  "Oh, that's right. You're going to Florida for Bree's wedding," my mother blurts.

  A frown mar
s the space between his brows. "Are you taking a date?"

  My mouth twitches with suppressed amusement. "Not that it's really any of your business, but no, I am not bringing a date with me to the wedding."

  His face visibly relaxes as did his grip on my waist. I hadn't noticed that his grip had tightened until I felt it loosen around me.

  "I really should be going." I step out of his grip and turn to my mother. "I love you. I will see you Monday," I say while wrapping her in a hug.

  "I love you too. You be careful in Florida." She squeezes me to her.

  "Always."

  Drawing back, I kiss her cheek one last time, then turn to Jeremiah. His eyes are on me and my stomach flips the way it always does every time I gaze into his eyes.

  "When can I see you again?" His gaze is almost as pleading as his tone.

  "I'll be back Monday morning, Sunday night at the earliest."

  A smile spreads across his lips. "Will you do me the honor of meeting me here, again, for lunch? Same time?"

  I nod. "Sure. Same time."

  Jeremiah

  Past

  (8)

  It is finally Monday and I can’t help the feeling of relief that floods my entire body. Today, after two of the longest and dreadful fucking days of my life, I will get to see the only woman who's ever made me crave just the sound of her voice. Despite how eager I am to see her beautiful face, I was fuming, almost foaming at the mouth. Before she'd left for her trip to Florida, I'd asked her to text me or call me when she made it—she never did. The entire weekend I was forced to talk myself out of flying down there myself to make sure she'd made it there safe and alive. I'd also had to talk myself out of hiring someone to track her every move to make sure there wasn't some guy in the picture that I didn't know about. Either way, it wouldn't have looked good for me. She'd really think I was a stalker and a creep, and probably call the police. I don't need this woman, my woman, thinking I'm some crazy lunatic. I need her to want me as much as I want her.

  Now, that didn't stop me from finding out where she lived and parking my car across the street in front of her house. That was one thing I couldn't talk myself out of. As I look out of the windshield, I notice a familiar black LX Kia Optima turn the corner, heading my way. It's her. I'd know that car anywhere. As she gets closer, I can make out a smile on her lips as she rocks her head left to right. Her hair is pulled up into a bun and her shoulders are bare. I watch her pull into her driveway and cut off the car. Once she's gathered her things, I quickly open my door, climb out of the car and close the door before crossing the street.

  She's walking to her front door, while searching for something in her bag, when I call out her name, “Tabitha!"

  She jumps, startled, and spins around to face me. Her smile is gone and replaced with a guarded look. "Jeremiah?" She looks around, up and down the street, before meeting my gaze. "What are you doing here? And how do you know where I live?"

  I don't stop until I'm standing close enough that I can smell her strawberry scented perfume. My eyes quickly rake over her body. She wore no earrings or no necklace. She's dressed in a navy blue, strapless dress that stops just above her knees, with a pair of black stilettos. My eyes linger on her shoes. There's something about a woman in heels that drives me crazy. No. Let me take that back. There's something about her in heels that drives me crazy. Maybe it's the height it gives her or how much longer they make her legs look. Either way, I don't stop the images of me bending her over my desk, in nothing but her heels, fucking her.

  "Jeremiah!" Her voice slices through me like a knife.

  "What?" I growl.

  "What the hell are you doing at my house? How do you even know where I live?" She's glaring at me and her arms are crossed just beneath her breasts, pushing them up in my line of sight.

  Damn! I would give anything to see her naked.

  "I know people," I hiss in response.

  She stares at me with a gaping mouth. "So, you're going to stalk me now like some fucking creep?"

  I take a step in her direction. "Watch yourself, Tabitha."

  "Are you shitting me right now? First, you hire people to find out my phone number, and now you hire them to find out where I live?" She throws her hands up dramatically. "You find nothing creepy or wrong with that?"

  "I wouldn't have had to find out where you lived if you'd done as I asked."

  "What the hell are you talking about?"

  "Did you forget I asked you to text or call me when you landed?" I spit, glaring at her. "Or were you too busy fucking some asshole to pick up the phone?"

  Her fist connects with my jaw before I realize she’s thrown her fist back. "Fuck you, Jeremiah," she hisses before turning and walking to her front door.

  Ignoring the pain in my jaw, I rush after her and push through the door after her. "We need to talk." I grab her arm.

  "Let go of me, you bastard!" She yanks her arm free and glares up at me. "Get the fuck out of my house before I call the police."

  I step out of the doorway and throw the door shut behind me. "Not until we talk."

  She lets out a bitter laugh. "There's nothing to talk about, you arrogant asshole. You already know why I didn't call or text." She turns her back to me and crosses the living room. "I was busy fucking some man’s brains out."

  I march after her.

  "Don't fuck with me, Tabitha Davenport."

  "Go to hell, Jeremiah Keegan," she snaps.

  We enter her kitchen, which is decorated with stainless steel appliances, black and red decorations with an island in the middle, and she heads straight for her refrigerator. She reaches inside, reaches for a wine bottle, then closes the door. Turning around, avoiding my gaze, she slams her bag, along with the bottle, onto the counter before walking over to the cupboard.

  "Look, I apologize for snapping at you." I take a step forward as she turns back around with a wine glass. She looks up at me as she pops the cork from the bottle and begins to pour herself a full glass. "I became angry when you didn't call or text me."

  Suddenly, she bursts out laughing. She sets her glass down and shakes her head.

  "Wow. You're a real piece of work, you know that?"

  "What's that supposed to mean?"

  "Do you hear yourself? You became angry with me, a woman you barely even know, for not texting or calling you." She picks up her glass and takes another swallow.

  I cross the kitchen to stand in front of her. "You promised—"

  She holds up a hand to stop me. "I didn't promise you shit, Jeremiah. I told you I would, yes, but I never made a promise."

  "You still agreed to call or text and you did neither. You owed me that much."

  She scoffs.

  "I don't owe you a damn thing. You're not my father or my mother." She looks me up and down. "And you damn sure aren't my man."

  Oh, I will be. Very soon.

  I take a deep breath to calm my anger. It doesn't help much, but I don't want her angry with me any more than she already is, so I force the anger back and swallow it. I change the subject.

  "How was Florida?"

  "How's your jaw?" she spits.

  It’s not until she mentions it that I feel the stinging pain. Damn. She sure can throw a right hook. I lift my hand to my jaw and gently rub away the soreness. "Stings like a bitch, but I'll live."

  She smiles proudly. "Good. You deserved it."

  "Why didn't you call or text?" I ask calmly.

  "I was too busy fucking some guy, remember?" She says with a frown.

  "Tabitha, please." I clench my fist at my side. Just thinking about another man touching her pisses me off.

  She lets out an exaggerated sigh. "My friend, Brooke, the one who got married, was getting cold feet. When I made it to the airport in Florida, I went to text you, but her sister, Bree, was already dragging me out of the airport, screaming like a banshee.” She moves to take a seat in one of the stools at the counter. "She went on to explain to me that Brooke was getting really n
ervous about the wedding and that she needed me ASAP. So, once we made it to the hotel, I quickly rushed to her and we talked."

  "That's still not telling me why you never called or texted," I groan impatiently.

  She glares at me. "I was getting to that part. Anyway, after we talked and I saw that she was still nervous, I suggested that the three of us have a girls’ night and we did. We turned off our phones and stayed inside for the first night." I watch the corners of her lips lift. "The next morning, we got up and got her ready for her wedding. It was a very long day. The reception lasted damn near all night. By the time I'd realized I hadn't texted or called you, I was already on a plane back home."

  I swallow the lump in my throat. "So, you weren't with anyone else?"

  A smirk tugs at the corner of her lips. "You mean were there any men?"

  I stare at her with a knowing look. “Yes or no?"

  She wrinkles her nose a bit, then shrugs. "Of course, there were men. It was a wedding." She sits back in her chair. "The men almost outnumbered the women. Jack has a lot of male friends."

  I must have been glaring hard because she chuckles and leans forward to touch my hand.

  "Calm down, Casanova. I didn't sleep with any of them." She pushes to her feet. "Though many sure did give me the option," she adds before moving past me and down the hall towards the living room.

  I let out a frustrated groan before jumping to my feet to follow her. "Why must you taunt me?"

  "I'm taunting you?" she chuckles, turning around to face me. "How?"

  "You know I want you and yet you purposely throw the fact that other men want you in my face." I cross the room to stand directly in front of her. She's looking at me beneath hooded eyes. “You know what you do to me."

  She swallows.

  "I don't know anything about you or what I do to you."

  Without thinking, I reach for her hand and place it directly against the painful bulge in my pants. "This is what you do to me, Tabitha Davenport." I press her hand closer and move it up and down the length of my dick. "This is all because of you."

  Her eyes are wide and her lips are parted as she stares down at where her hand is pressed. I quickly take notice to how she presses her legs together and how her free hand forms a fist around the fabric of her dress. She wants me.