by Vicki Green
A little later, my skin is pruney. Jax hasn’t made an appearance, and I’m a little sad by that. I was kind of hoping he would. Then again, I’m so nervous, I’d probably do something stupid or klutzy, and this relaxing time has steadied my nerves – a lot. After dressing, I brush my teeth and spritz on some of my favorite lilac spray. Feeling renewed, I walk out of the bedroom in search of Jax. The sound of tapping on keys makes me walk down the hall, peeking into an open doorway. His office. Sitting behind an “L” shaped wooden desk and facing a large window, I see him typing away on a laptop. Did he bring it or is this another one he leaves here? I tiptoe inside the room, creeping behind him. Wrapping my arms around him, I press my head against his. He doesn’t startle, only wraps his arms around mine.
“Hey,” I whisper.
“Hey,” he whispers back.
I look down at his laptop screen but can’t make heads or tails of the document he’s typing. “Sorry,” he says as he turns in his chair. He pulls me onto his lap. Oh! “I thought I’d get some updates done while I wait for you.”
“That’s okay.” I put my arm around his large shoulder and get comfy. It doesn’t go unnoticed that I fit perfectly on his lap.
“Hungry?” he asks.
“Starving!” I lick my lips for effect and his eyes glare into mine.
“Me too.” He lifts me from his lap until I feel the wood floor beneath my feet. That was unexpected. “I’ll go fire up the grill!” Totally not what I was starving for. I shrug, knowing there’s plenty of time and there go the butterflies in my stomach, nervousness worming its way into my system again. I follow him out of the room and around until we enter the kitchen. “Do you mind making a salad?” I shake my head, and he smiles. I would do anything for that smile. “Great! Everything you’ll need is in the fridge. I’ll be right back.”
I watch him walk out the door. From the bay window, I notice the sun has started its descent beyond the pond. God, this place! I twirl. Yes, I twirl and lean over, taking out everything I need from the overly full fridge. Sheesh! When did he have time to stock this place? Finding a large bowl was easy, as well as his sharp knives. I swear it’s like I unpacked this place myself. Everything is exactly where I would put it, if it were mine. I’m cutting vegetables when he walks in, stopping beside me and kissing my nose. He walks behind me and out of the room, soon to come back carrying a bottle of white wine.
“Would you care for a glass?”
Would I care for a glass? I snort internally. Can you leave the bottle?
Now, I’m normally not much of a drinker. I think we all saw that when Molly dragged me to that bar. Especially when I’m hopeful of what might happen later. God, I hope that happens. But I gotta tell ya, my nerves are a little on edge. Okay, I’m a freakin’ basket case!
I watch as he uncorks the bottle, the muscles in his arms flexing as he turns, squeezes, and then pulls. Oh yeah! He pours me a glass, setting it near me as I try not to cry while cutting a purple onion. He walks to me, his lips close to my ear. “Just to take the edge off.” As he walks past to check on the meat, I look at his ass, checking out his meat. Damn! I take a big swig from the wine glass, feeling the liquid move down my throat, sending tingles in its wake. God, I needed that. I finish up the salad in time for him to walk back into the kitchen carrying a plate.
“This is the best dinner I’ve had in a long time.” Yeah, ‘cos I’m usually the one cooking it or it’s takeout. Leaning back in the chair, I rub my stomach. “I’m stuffed.” He stands and starts picking up my plate. “Oh no! You cooked. I’ll clean up.”
“Are you sure? I could help.” He smiles and it goes straight south.
I stand and start gathering our dirty dishes. “No. It’s the least I can do. Besides, after that meal, I need the exercise to help it digest.”
“Okay. Thanks. I’ll just go finish up that paperwork real quick then maybe we can watch a movie?”
I look up as he walks toward the doorway. “Sounds great!”
This kitchen is like a dream. After rinsing off all the dishes and loading the dishwasher, I found some cleaner in the cabinet under the sink and wash down all the countertops as well as the table. I swear – I could live in this kitchen.
I flip off the light as I walk into the living room, stopping dead in my tracks. The lights are low, the area illuminated by the glow of a fire in the fireplace. Soft music is playing “Let’s Get It On” by Marvin Gaye and it fills the room. I swallow hard but when I look to the right, all I see is Jax standing there. Even though he’s wearing a long sleeve shirt with the sleeves rolled up exposing his forearms – and what forearms they are, and a pair of jeans, I slide my hands down my t-shirt and thighs, suddenly feeling underdressed.
“C’mon here, Coffee Girl.” His hand is extended and I swallow hard as I walk to him, placing my hand in his. I watch as his fingers thread through mine, and he brings our hands to rest against his chest, while his free arm wraps around my waist as mine does his. I look up and find him smiling as we begin to sway to the music. “What are you thinking?” Oh God! He really doesn’t want to know.
Right in this exact moment, it dawns on me. I haven’t stuttered or stammered. I haven’t fallen or tried to kill him with my klutziness. I’ve been relaxed around him. Calm. I’ve had – fun.
I look up at him and whisper, “I’m thinking, I’d really like you to kiss me.”
“Always my pleasure.”
He leans down slowly, my eyes zone onto his mouth. He tilts his head, pressing his lips against mine. It’s sweet, gentle, almost – loving. Suddenly, he presses harder, his hand releases mine and covers my breast. I wrap my hand around the back of his neck, pulling him closer. My heartbeat picks up and as he tweaks my nipple through my bra, I feel the wetness pool between my legs. Then it’s all hands, lips, tugging of shirts and waistbands. Feeling bold, I cup him over his jeans. Sweet baby Jesus, that is one Hot Tamale on a stick for sure! My shirt is off, and even though the fire is warm beside us, I shiver as he unclasps my bra. I’m rubbing him, up and down, but stop when he bends down and sucks a nipple into his mouth. My head falls back, and I moan. Loudly. Suddenly, I’m in his arms. His mouth is on mine, and we’re moving. I feel the softness of the comforter underneath me, him hovering above me. Our heads twists, back and forth, as we kiss frantically. Then, he’s gone. What? I start to open my eyes when I feel him tugging my yoga pants over my hips and down my legs. My eyes open slowly to him glaring down my naked body. I feel the warmth of a blush sweeping over me. I start to move my hands, wanting to cover myself, when he speaks.
“You’re so fucking beautiful.” Did he only have one glass of wine? My mouth feels suddenly dry when he unbuttons his jeans, slowly lowering the zipper. My eyes widen when he lowers them and his very hardened cock springs free. Holy Hot Tamale on a stick! Yeah, I called that right. It’s long, wide and the head looks a little purple. That’s gotta hurt. He bends down, but I can’t see what he’s doing. Do I just stay here? Should I help him? God, I’m such an idiot! He stands with a packet in his hands, raises it up to his mouth and rips it open with his teeth. Damn, that was hot! He takes the condom and my breathing becomes labored as I watch him sheath his cock. I feel like I’m starting to have a panic attack when he climbs onto the bed, crawls on top of me until he’s between my legs and kisses me, stroking my hair.
“Just relax, Rylie,” he whispers then kisses me again.
I can feel the tip moving up and down near my entrance. “Coffee Girl,” I choke out.
“What?” He rises a bit and looks into my eyes. I smile, at least I think I do.
“Call me Coffee Girl.” I have no idea why I said that but I love when he calls me his name for me.
He smiles then his lips are on mine. He stops, leans up on an elbow. “This might hurt a bit.”
I don’t know if he said that because I’m mostly a virgi
n, or if it’s because he’s so large, and…. Oh! He pushes into me hard, taking my breath away. There’s a little pain, nothing like I’ve read about but definitely there. It’s his size! I feel like I’m being stretched until my muscles hurt. Can my who-ha get broken by a very large Hot Tamale?
“Coffee Girl?” I open my eyes not realizing I’d shut them. “Try to relax. Don’t take your eyes off mine and feel nothing but me inside you.” Damn his words. He begins moving, and it’s not long before I match his movements. The pain has evaporated and after wrapping my legs around his slim waist, I relax. We start going faster as he leans down and takes a nipple into his mouth. Sucking. Nipping. All the sensations are becoming too much. Those butterflies left and now there’s like a fire in their place. Warmth. Tingles. It’s a weird feeling and exhilarating at the same time. His mouth is still covering my nipple, his tongue doing amazing things, then I startle when between our movements, his hand goes to the one place only B.O.B. has been.
Oh.
My.
God!
I’ve just internally fired B.O.B. as Jax begins rubbing and pushing, circling where I ache the most. Stars fill my eyes. Dots scatter across them as those tingles intensify, magnify, flowing up and down my body in a rush. “HT!” My head tilts back deeper into the pillow. My hands are cramping, and my legs feel like jello. My eyes are closed tight, but I feel him push in and out a couple more times and then the sweetest thing fills the room.
“Coffee Girl!”
I’m still trying to catch my breath when I feel him shudder above me. “Coffee Girl?”
I can’t seem to move. I have no strength left. I’m a weakling.
“Can you relax just a bit?” There’s a smile in his voice. Slowly, I open my eyes and look into his. He looks down, and I follow his eyes. I have a death grip on his arms. I release him quickly. “You okay there?” I let out a long sigh and nod, still unable to speak. “Good.” He leans down on one elbow, his semi-soft cock still inside me. He smooths back some of my damp matted hair from my face, causing my eyes to flutter closed again. “Who’s HT?”
My eyes snap open!
Chapter 14
“Holy shit! What did you say?”
Molly called me before the birds were even awake. Carefully, I slid out from underneath Jax’s arm and stared at him for a moment. He looks so peaceful. Gorgeous face, that dimple well hidden in his sleep. Soft smooth skin. Large shoulders and biceps. I look down his more than sculpted abs. Can you say six-pack? Damn, the sheet is covering his most precious jewel. Hot Tamale. Sigh. I grab my phone, finding one of his t-shirts sitting on a chair in the corner, and run out of the room. I close the door quietly, and I throw his shirt over my head, pulling it down until it covers me just above my knees. Walking into the kitchen, I flip on the light and make coffee as she interrogates me about last night. The woman has no shame.
“Well, after calling him HT and he asked who that was, I asked him – who?” I was actually a little embarrassed to tell him about the nickname I dubbed him. Especially calling it out in the throes of my very first orgasm by a human. And damn! What an orgasm it was. Smiling, I pour myself a cup, add some French vanilla creamer I found in the fridge – which is kinda of strange since he takes his coffee black. I’d say he got it for me but it was already open and a little bit was already gone. Shrugging, I add a spoonful of sugar then walk outside onto the deck and settle onto a wooden chair with a thick cushion. There’s small outside lights on all along the railing of the deck and out in the yard. Other than that, it’s dark. God, what the hell time is it?
She laughs. “Are you ever going to tell him what HT stands for?”
I shake my head as I take a drink of heaven. “Maybe. I dunno. It’s kind of embarrassing.” Yeah, maybe after I die. I’ll leave a note.
“Well sounds like he got through your barrier reef okay. So, does HT totally nail that on the head?” She lets out a big snort. Funny.
I roll my eyes. Too bad she can’t see it. “Actually….” I hesitate and take another drink. “It’s so much more. So, so much more.” I hear her gasp, and I smile against the rim of the cup.
“There you are.”
I look up, having not heard the door open. Crap, I wonder how much he heard. He lets out the sexiest yawn. He’s the epitome of sex. His hair is sticking up in different directions. His eyes half closed in a sleepy state. He’s standing there shirtless, with only boxers on. Sigh. God, I hope I’m not really asleep and this whole thing has been a dream. Best fucking dream ever!
“Come back to bed, Coffee Girl. I need you in my arms.”
“Awwwww! Is that….?”
Click.
I hit “end call” and stand walking straight into his arms and lay my head against that fine chest. He wraps an arm around me, and we walk inside. I set my cup down on the breakfast bar as we walk past. Once we get into his bedroom, we crawl in bed, his arms wrapping around me as he pulls the covers up over us. I feel him kiss the top of my head, snuggling his against it. “There. Now I feel better.” Me too.
With all our extracurricular activity last night, having sex – twice, we were up rather late. Then with Molly calling me so early and waking my ass up, it didn’t take me long to fall fast asleep in his strong arms. When I open my eyes again, the birds are singing, the sun is shining, making the room bright, and when I turn my head, I notice his side is empty. Reaching my arms up over my head, I stretch and point my toes, stretching my legs. I can feel the soreness between them and smile. Last night, I officially lost my v-card – kinda for the second time, to the most wonderful man on the planet. Sitting up, I pull my legs over the side and stretch again. Yep, gonna take a little bit to work out this soreness. I smile as I stand and turn around to make the bed. I grab the sheets and comforter, ready to pull them up when I stop and let out a gasp. Blood. It’s not a ton, not like I was on my period or hemorrhaging, but it’s there. On his nice light brown sheets. Shit! I start pulling them off, turning around with them in my arms, wondering where in the hell his washing machine is.
I walk out of the room and look down the hall, hearing sounds faintly coming from the kitchen. Looking right, I see a set of double doors and walk to them, struggling to open one. Finally it opens, and lo and behold, a washer and dryer! Actually, his laundry room is about the same size as my bathroom back home. Nice! I make quick time loading them in the washer, adding soap and some softener I found in the cabinet above it and turn it on. Leaning back against the now moving washer, I let out a breath. That was close!
The smell of pancakes and coffee wafts down the hallway, and my stomach growls. Guess I’d worked up quite an appetite last night. I practically skip down the hall – more like feeling I’m walking a bit bow legged as if I rode a very large bucking buck, and through the cozy living room, noticing he’d already lit a fire. It is a little chilly this morning, now that I think about it. Fall. One of my favorite times of the year – next to winter. I love when snow falls, covering the bare limbs on the trees, making snow angels, and of course then there’s Thanksgiving and Christmas. Thanksgiving. Butterball turkeys, Gram’s stuffing and…. I frown as I walk into the kitchen. Gram.
“Why the long face?” Jax walks to me, more like storms, his face full of confusion and worry. I’m in his arms before I can open my mouth. I feel his mouth against the side of my head. “Gotta tell you that’s not exactly what a guy likes to see after an amazing time the night before. I’d hoped for a better reaction this morning.” I can hear the playfulness in his voice, trying to lighten up my mood.
I look up at him and smile. “Sorry. I’m in a great mood and….” I look down, suddenly shy. “A bit sore. If you want to know the truth.”
His fingers are underneath my chin, pulling my face up until I’m looking into those playful brown eyes. “A good sore, I hope?” My smile broadens. “Good. I’d be a little worried if
you weren’t.” A laugh bursts free from me. “Hungry?”
“Starving!” But not only for food.
He turns and keeps an arm around my shoulders as we walk to the table. It’s already stacked with small plates of bacon, pancakes with syrup sitting beside them, peanut butter, hash browns, toast and sausage. “I’m not just the king of the grill. I can make a mean breakfast too.” I sit down and look up at him. A smile still plastered on my face, almost making my jaw ache. “Omelet or another way you’d like your eggs?” More food? Shit! I’m gonna need to change into my yoga pants.
“What’s your specialty?” I ask still grinning. God, I can’t seem to stop!
“I’d have to say an omelet. Love doctoring it with all kinds of things.”
“Well, I think I need to have that. Doctor away!” Shit, I’d love for him to be my doctor. Oh! I wonder if I should go pick him up some scrubs. Hot doctor with a Hot Tamale on a stick!
“Can I just say, once again for the record, that this isn’t probably the best idea? I mean, I could probably poke your eye out or something.” Even worse, the hook could get attached to his Hot Tamale and then where would we be? I must protect that, at all costs.
“It’s just fishing, Coffee Girl. What could happen?” Has he not seen what all I can destroy? Of course, that’s how I first met his Hot Tamale. I let out a snort.
After breakfast, we’d fooled around on his couch, while a movie played in the background. Afterward I snuck to the laundry room and put the sheets in the dryer. Then, I took a much needed shower and put the sheets on the bed. Once lunch was done, eaten out on the deck, he had another surprise. Fishing. Fishing! Not like I’m not dangerous enough with anything boiling and let’s not talk about sharp utensils. Besides, one thing I will not touch is a smelly, slimy fish. I own a coffee shop and not a restaurant for a reason.