Chore Play

by Piper Rayne

  A silent war rages inside me. Isn’t this what I yearned for all along—answers? Still, I’m afraid of what he’ll say, and I don’t know if it’s because it will make it hurt more or because it will mean I’ll have to look at him as something other than the jerk who broke my heart…as someone who could possibly take ownership of it again.

  “C’mon, Quinn. Give me a chance to explain.”

  “Promise?” I ask. If I agree to hear him out, I want the promise he’ll leave me alone. “You’ll lose my address and not show up unexpectedly? You won’t hound me?”

  He lets out an exasperated breath. “Scout’s honor.” He holds up three fingers.

  I give him a wry look. “Pretty sure you were never a Boy Scout, Jagger.”

  “Let’s go. Put your shoes in the trunk.”

  I drag my feet as I walk over to him, then remove my shoes and place them next to his on a plastic bag. “You are such an anal freak,” I murmur.

  “Not really. I mean I enjoy anal like most guys, but it’s not my go-to.”

  I roll my eyes. “Let’s get this over with.”

  He tries to take my hand, but I pull away, tucking it in the back pocket of my shorts.

  “Fine.” We walk along the wooden plank, the sand increasing until it’s only warm sand wiggling between my toes. We stay on the upper part instead of where the water lands. My guess is because it’s more private up here.

  We’re still walking in silence five minutes later. “I thought you had something to tell me?”

  He runs his hand down his face, pulling on the back of his neck. God, he’s sexy when he’s stressed out. Seeing him all wound up in knots make me want to suck him off and ease the tension out of him like I used to.

  Shit, no, I don’t. My brain and my vagina need to get on the same page.

  “I’m sorry for taking you there. It’s just I wanted to take you somewhere where you’d have to remember us. The way we were. I didn’t even think of Cami.” His head hangs and he stares at his footsteps.

  “Yeah.” A sad twinge hits my heart for Cami. I know firsthand the pain Jagger’s rejection can cause.

  “I never meant to put you in an uncomfortable situation.”

  “You have tunnel vision sometimes. Always did.” I knock my shoulder with his, letting him know it’s forgotten. “I overreacted. It’s not like we’re a couple. I mean, fourteen years have passed and I come off like some jealous girlfriend. Of course you’ve had other women. It’s not like I’ve been celibate,” I ramble, wishing he didn’t pull this junior high girl out of me.

  “Let’s pretend you have been. I can’t handle thinking of the alternative.”

  I roll my eyes. “So, you want to be my first and only?”

  “I like to think I left the bar so high you didn’t want to chance it with anyone else.”

  “So, fourteen years and I just—”

  “You do have a Unicorn Cock vibrator.”

  I let an embarrassed chuckle escape. He’s got me there.

  We walk a few more feet and then Jagger slows. “Mind if we sit?”

  I glance back toward Surfing Tacos, seeing it’s gotten much smaller in the distance. No threat of Cami running out of the restaurant with a butcher knife. “Sure.”

  We lower ourselves down on the sand. The ocean breeze is blowing my hair, so I tuck it over one shoulder.

  “I need to tell you something and I…” He releases an audible breath before he continues, “I want you to hear me out. Please.”

  “Okaaay,” I say warily.

  “That night of the party—”

  “Nope. We’re not talking about it. It’s fine.”

  He grabs my hand and places it in his lap. “Please, Quinn.” The plea in his voice has my attention and for some reason I find it impossible to tell him no.

  “Fine, go on.”

  He spreads my hand out, tracing the lines up and down my fingers, circling my palm. “I’ve always loved your hands. I think it was the contrast to mine.” He lays his hand under mine. His fingers overlap mine easily. My mind drifts back to a time when I’d lean back on his chest, his arms tight around me with our hands weaved together as we watched the sunset.

  Maybe it’s the strength of his body mixed with the gentleness in his touch, but I don’t pull back. He slides beside me, hip to hip to me, and I still don’t move.

  “That night when you saw me at my house. The party,” he begins, reminding me of the chapter of our summer love story I try to relive as little as possible. I tend to live in the early to middle chapters, the ones where long glances and hand brushing turned to hungry kisses and the exploration of bodies.

  I swallow, and he continues to glide his large hand over mine. I could fall asleep to the soothing way he does that.

  “There was something that pre-empted it.”

  “Okay.” My head dips to almost land on his shoulder, but as one strand of my hair falls, I straighten my back upright again.

  “Your dad.”

  I slowly move my hand back to my lap. He reaches for it but eventually locks his hands together.

  “My dad?”

  He turns his body in the sand to face me, his gaze flicking between me and his own crossed legs. “He didn’t do anything he shouldn’t have. It’s not that. He told me you were thinking about moving to Malibu permanently. For me. And he questioned my intentions once he knew you were going to uproot your life for me.”

  I swallow down the little saliva I have left and stare out at the ocean. The waves roll in one after the other while I clench my fists. How could my dad interfere like that? But I already know the answer. He was always concerned that I was too wrapped up in Jagger, too young to be that infatuated with someone.

  “Hey.” He takes his finger and places it on my chin, turning me back to look at him. “I was stupid and young. For two weeks I was pissed at your dad for questioning me.”

  He and I both.

  “After the two weeks?” I almost whisper.

  “I figured out that he was right, and I couldn’t let you do that when I’d be at college. Sure, I’d only be upstate, but we’d be living different lives, separate lives, and eventually you would’ve ended up resenting and hating me. Why delay the inevitable? There’s a reason we didn’t carry on after you left every summer—long distance is a disaster waiting to happen and we were both young and not ready for the kind of commitment it would take to make it work.”

  “So, you developed a plan to break my heart instead of telling me the truth?” All this time I thought I wasn’t good enough, wasn’t kinky enough, wasn’t what he wanted…

  He shrugs, turning his body to face the ocean once more. “I’m not proud of my actions, but if you thought I cheated on you, you’d go back to Ohio.”

  I nod a few times, bringing my legs to my chest, hugging them to my body in a lost effort to shelter myself from Jagger so he can’t damage me again. “You know how demented that is?” I ask.

  He never glances over. “I do now.” He lets a big sigh loose and then continues. “Quinn, we both know that if I’d tried to break-up with you or convince you that you were best not to stay in California, you never would have listened to me. You were as headstrong then as you are now.”

  I bite down on the inside of my cheek refusing to admit that he may be right—Jagger telling me I was better off without him might have made me fight harder for him. The curse of being a headstrong teenager who thinks she knows everything.

  “Can I ask you a question? Then I want you to take me home,” I finally say.

  “Ask me anything.”

  “All the things you said…about how I was the only one you felt comfortable telling everything to, about how you couldn’t wait to see me each summer and how you thought of me when I was back living with my mom…was it all just bullshit to get me in bed?”

  His head whips around, his eyes laced with outrage. “No! Shit, Quinn. You don’t get it.” He stands up and stomps off down the beach.

  “What
don’t I get?” I call out to him, standing and brushing the sand from my ass before I chase him down.

  When I reach him, he turns around and plants his hands on my shoulders. “I fucking loved you. The decision I made was probably the only selfless decision I’ve ever made in my entire life.”

  “Jagger, you don’t do that to people you love,” I say, exasperated, but before I finish his head is shaking, his mouth tight in a line.

  “My method might have been wrong, but my motives weren’t. Fuck it. I’m not even sure why I care. You…” His fists clench and he releases them. “You don’t feel it?”

  “Feel what?” If I say yes, he’ll keep pushing me and then at some point he’ll get scared and break me again.

  “The pull between us. Right now, you stand millimeters from me, but it’s not close enough. I want to strip your clothes off on this beach and be skin to skin with you. And even then, I know it still won’t feel like enough.” He runs both his hands down his face, lacing them behind his neck.

  I ignore the image Jagger’s words elicit. I have to, otherwise I’ll never be able to stand my ground.

  “I’m not sure what you want. Forgiveness? I forgave you years ago. If I hadn’t I never would have been able to move on with my life.”

  His hands plant on either side of my face, his touch igniting a current through my body. “I want another chance.”

  I step back.

  He steps forward.

  I step back again, shaking my head. “I can’t.”

  “You won’t,” he corrects.

  “Same difference. It took me a long time to get over you.”

  He falls to his knees in the sand. “I promise I’m different now.”

  “Get up.” I glance around to see if anyone is paying any attention to us.

  He goes on begging, his hands planted together, staring up at me. “Not until you agree.”

  “Jagger, I walked in on a girl stripping for you. After I’d been in that same position the night before. She was straddling you and you had your hands on her hips, grinding her to you.”

  He winces.

  “And then when I confronted you, you told me that I was your plaything for the summer. You laughed at me and asked what I expected, a long-distance relationship? All your friends laughed, the girl laughed and pushed your face into her bare breasts. You took her nipple into your mouth, closing your eyes to enjoy it and ignoring me. I can’t get that image out of my head—even after all these years. So, I’m sorry, I appreciate you telling me the truth, but a second chance? Not happening.” I turn, and I begin to walk away. I’ll call an Uber and buy new Chucks before I ever see this man again. He should come with a warning label: Hazardous to your mental health. Not intended for children or women who value their sanity.

  He grips my wrist, pulls me toward him, then releases his hold and rests my face in his hands.

  We stare at one another, equal parts hurt and love pouring from one another. We’re like the dark undercurrent in the ocean. The undertow between us won’t allow me to escape, even though I desperately want to. I feel like it’s dragging me to my ruin and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.

  Before I can blink, his lips mesh to mine and I wish I had the willpower to stop him, but damn, it feels exquisite drowning in Jagger.

  7

  Quinn

  A soft moan rises up my throat and Jagger swallows it down while his hands slide to my back, then he yanks me flush to him. I wind my hands around his neck, not pulling away, though I know I should. It’s impossible when our kiss is frenzied and hungry for the dormant fourteen years between this and our last one.

  His hands run over my body like he’s on an exploratory mission, finally resting on either side of my face, when he slows the kiss down. His bulging erection presses into my stomach and our tongues slide and glide now rather than darting and pushing for control.

  “I closed my eyes and imagined it was your nipple I was sucking. That’s the only way I could go through with it.”

  A painful groan rumbles up from inside me and I grip the short strands of his hair harder.

  “After you left, I pushed her off me and went to my room.”

  I cover his hands with mine, needing to feel our connection while he relives one of my most painful memories.

  “I spent the whole night second-guessing my decision. I was stupid and young. I should’ve—”

  “Shh,” I say, my lips meeting his. When our tongues touch my body heats and it feels like a thick layer of burning lava pouring down my body, puddling right between my legs.

  Jagger’s hands slide down to my ass, gripping the globes in his strong hands. He hoists me up and my legs wrap instinctively around his waist. His erection grinds over my clit and I let out a greedy moan.

  “Shit.” He slowly lowers me to the ground. “We’re in public.”

  I bite my lip, stepping away from him, wiping my mouth, scanning around for people. I shouldn’t have lost control like that.

  I can’t afford to lose control where Jagger is concerned.

  “We should go.” Without waiting, I dig my heels into the sand, sprinting away.

  He follows behind, gripping my hand once he reaches me and taking the lead. “Come home with me.” He kisses the top of my hand and for a moment, I’m stunned. The gesture is so casual and intimate that anyone nearby would assume I was his.

  I stop at the edge of the sand, right in front of the parking lot of Surfing Tacos. I need to remember—I’m not his. What am I doing besides living in some fairy tale where the guy I’ve compared all others to sweeps me off my feet again and we ride into the fucking sunset?

  “One night.” He holds up a finger.

  “You don’t hold up your end of agreements very well.”

  He chuckles, cradling my hand to his chest. “Please, we don’t even have to sleep together or touch each other…”

  “That’s a little presumptuous of you,” I say, narrowing my eyes.

  He looks down at me, quirking one brow in a way that dares to me to argue that I wasn’t feeling what he was during that kiss.

  “I gave you last night,” I remind him. I’ve already given in to all his requests.

  He nods, I’m sure conjuring up some persuasive tactics that he’s mastered throughout his career.

  We stare into each other’s eyes, the crashing of the ocean waves behind us, and I can’t help but compare us to a bad romance movie. Cue the soft music. My gaze shoots down his body and my pulse vibrates with the electric energy swimming through my body.

  What would it be like to sleep with him now? As a woman who’s had other partners rather than an inexperienced teenage girl offering herself to a boy for the first time ever? I’ve learned what works for me and I bet Jagger would be more than willing to help me along. Am I actually convincing myself of this? The devil on one shoulder chimes in, reminding me that he hurt me—sleep with him and hurt him back and reap the benefit of a night of great sex. The devil wins. I’m not even going to ask the angel’s opinion.

  “Okay,” I agree. “It’s probably a bad decision, but...okay.”

  He swoops me off my feet, carrying me toward his car. If we were in that movie the cameras would be zeroing in on the sunset because we’re supposed to be living happily ever after instead of what we’re really doing—fucking each other out of our systems.

  “People,” I whisper, noticing the beachgoers milling around starting to take notice of us.

  “Yeah, they should mind their own business.” He places me back on my feet when we reach his car. I expect him to go around back and grab our shoes. Instead my back hits the metal of his car.

  His lips press to mine, his strong hands weaving through the strands of my hair, and I lose all control of my body. His kissing skills have improved through the years, although I’m wondering if it’s him or the filter I’m viewing it through—that it’s Jagger Kale kissing me and maybe I still place him on that pedestal I did when I was just the mousey book n
erd who gawked at him from her dad’s deck.

  He reaches his hand down and opens the door to his car, then slides our bodies to the opening without his lips leaving my lips. A master at work. He pulls his lips off mine and my hands instinctively reach for him, but I drop them before I embarrass myself. “Get in the car before I strip you down right here,” he says, his muscular chest heaving for breath.

  “From what I remember, you prefer me stripping myself.”

  His eyes flare, dipping over my body. I step closer, a rock digging into the bottom of my foot, but I ignore it. “Tell me, Jagger, do you still like to watch?” A growl runs up his throat, escaping and hitting its mark between my legs. I squeeze my thighs firmly shut. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  “Get in the car, Quinn.” His voice lowers to a timbre that rattles me to my core.

  I do as I’m instructed. I don’t know what will happen after tonight, but I’m taking this for myself.

  He pulls out of Surfing Tacos and a minute later he turns down a street to the right, driving past a row of houses until he clicks a button on his visor and we drive through a set of iron gates and into his garage, sandwiched between two cars on my left and two others on my right.

  “How do you ever choose?” I ask him, stepping out of his car, admiring the other high-end vehicles.

  The Kale family is known for their money and I knew he did well as an agent, but the cars, the house on the beach. He’s really made something of himself.

  He doesn’t comment, but walks around the car and slides his hand into mine. “Come on.” He pulls me, and I follow even though my nerves have flared up and I begin to question why I agreed to come.

  We walk through one door and a long hallway before the ocean comes into view. His kitchen is on the left with more appliances in it than I’m sure Jagger knows what to do with. It wouldn’t surprise me if Marisol has used them more than he has. A fireplace adorns one wall and set across from it is an overstuffed leather sofa and loveseat. The drapes are open, because who wouldn’t want a view of the sun setting over the ocean as their welcome-home view?