by Kim Karr
I raised a brow and slid the list of twelve women his way. “Good, then contacting the bridesmaids should be a piece of cake.”
The bruises on his face had faded but were still evident. “Come on, Jules, you’re killing me here. I’m going to look like some pervert.”
“Or a Casanova,” I winked and waved him along. “The faster we get this information, the faster we can order the dresses. And as you know, time is of the essence.”
“How much longer are we open for business?”
I shot him a look. “Don’t forget to close the door on your way out.”
He threw me the bird.
“Very mature, Finn. Very mature.”
Once the door closed, I glanced around my uncle’s office. Nothing had changed since he’d left. Nothing had changed in twenty years either. It was looking tired and old and in need of a facelift. That would be for the new owners to decide though.
Uncle Edward hadn’t returned yet, so I had called him late last week and confessed the dire situation of the business. Needless to say, he was shocked. Then again, I had infused all my savings into it, so there was very little for him to suspect. Still, I think he breathed a sigh of relief. Me holding onto it meant him holding onto it, and he was more than ready to let go. It was time to sell. And hopefully, after Rory’s wedding, the business would be worth even more than before.
I had my fingers crossed.
As for me, I would have to find a job with another consulting group, which I knew wouldn’t be that difficult.
I was crap at finances, but I was good at planning weddings.
At least I had that going for me.
Pulling up the announcement for the Harrison/Kissinger wedding, I gave it one last read before hitting send and sending it to the social media expert I’d hired and all of the appropriate Crawford Media outlets.
In a matter of minutes, it would be world news.
This part of the job was what I lived or. There was nothing like the thrill of seeing all the hard work start to come together.
I glanced at my phone. I had texted Jaxson days ago and told him we needed to talk. He said he’d call me, but I had yet to hear back from him.
I decided to call him.
“Hey, Jules,” he answered, sounding distracting.
“Hi Jaxson, I was just calling to make sure you received the information I sent you for the Kissinger wedding. Sorry it’s on a holiday weekend.”
I heard him tapping the keyboard. “Yeah, I got it, and that works out great. I didn’t have anything booked.”
I looked at my own computer screen and the screensaver of the picture he had taken of me on my uncle’s farm. I loved it out there. “Okay, great, I was just checking,” I said. “So, about that video,” I added.
He laughed. “Right, that video. I have to say, I don’t remember you ever doing anything like that when we were together.”
I went silent.
He laughed some more. “I’m teasing you, Jules. I’m glad you found someone who brings something out of you that I couldn’t.”
“It’s not that,” I started to say but he cut me off.
“It’s all good, and I’ve already forgotten you even sent it to me.”
“So we never have to talk about it again?”
“Never,” he said. “Listen, I have to run, but we’ll talk soon.”
“Bye, Jaxson,” I said.
“Bye,” he replied, and then hung up.
I stared at the picture on my computer. It was taken on a beautiful fall day a couple years ago. Red, yellow, and orange leaves were everywhere, and I was sitting in a chair out near the barn, researching an upcoming wedding I was planning. He’d snuck up on me and called out my name. I glanced toward him and he snapped my picture. We were happy together, but even then, something was missing. Whatever it was had always been missing, I supposed.
The shrill of the old dial phone beside me rang. “Easton Designs & Weddings,” I answered. “How can I help you?”
“There are at least ten different ways I can answer that, three of which require you to get on your knees.”
It was Jake, and for whatever reason, there was nothing missing between us.
My nipples peaked in arousal at his innuendo, and I had to force myself to play it cool. “Who is this?”
“Who else talks to you like that?”
“Let’s see,” I tapped my chin. “There’s the butcher, the baker, and the candlestick maker.”
“Not funny.”
Amused by myself, I tsked. “Why are you calling me on my business line?”
“Pretend to answer again, and I’ll tell you.”
“Okay, I’ll play along.” I cleared my throat. “Easton Designs & Weddings. How can I help you?”
Heavy breathing filled the line. “I just got back from a run. I’m in the shower touching myself and wondered if you wanted to come watch.”
A blush heated my cheeks in the most schoolgirl way. With a quick glance out the door, I looked at Finn, who thank goodness was hunched over his computer typing away and paying no attention to me. “Stop that, Jake,” I admonished in a whisper. “I thought we already settled that issue.”
His chuckle tickled my eardrum. “We did? Refresh my memory—exactly how did we do that?”
“Remember the whole why watch when you can touch thing,” I purred. It was so unlike me.
“Then come over and do just that.” He got right to the point.
I sank back into my chair. “I can’t. It’s three o’clock in the afternoon, and I have work to do.”
“Come over.” His voice had turned husky, low, filled with desire.
My whole body zinged from just the thought of it. “Jake, stop it. I can’t.”
“My grandmother wants to meet with you to discuss the wedding.”
I bolted up in my chair. “She does? Why didn’t you say so to begin with?”
He laughed. “Yes, she does. And I’m going to ignore your comment.”
“When?’ I asked.
“Today.”
“What time?”
“Six.”
“Okay, I can be there, but don’t you have to work?”
“Yes, I do. I think the two of you should meet alone. It will make her feel like she’s a part of this.”
“Okay, but she’s your grandmother.”
He laughed again. “Juliette, put on your big girl panties and come to the business meeting with Beatrice Crawford Alexander.”
I sneered through the phone line. “I’ll put on my big girl panties all right.”
“Good, and after you do, as your client, I’m requesting you come early.”
I smirked.
My client.
I was ‘doing’ my client.
That sounded kind of naughty.
I cleared my throat. “That can be arranged. Will we be discussing the flower arrangements or the wine selection?” I asked with a smirk on my face.
“Juliette, I’m about to stroke my hand down my cock.”
Lust whooshed in my lower belly. “I’ll be right over,” I said and hung up.
It was ninety-five degrees. With the high humidity, it felt even hotter. My car barely had time to cool before I was inputting the gate code Roger had given me, and then pulling through the iron bars. I parked next to the vintage Jaguar that Jake had told me belonged to his father.
The car made even more sense.
I could tell he wanted to be like the man, and I was fairly certain that was why taking the trauma unit in New York City was so important to him.
It was like he had something to prove . . . to himself.
I grabbed my bag and got out. Steam practically simmered on the brick pavers, and I felt myself melting before I even reached the front door.
Fanning myself, I pondered what to do.
Hmmm . . . did I ring the bell and tell Roger the man of the house was expecting a booty call? Or did I just go on in and up the stairs?
At least I didn�
�t have to figure that quandary out.
The door swung open before I had to make a decision, and Jake’s searing gaze washed over me immediately with a hunger that ate me up. I’d dressed comfortably thinking I was going to be in the office all day—a knee-length cream slip dress with strappy sandals. The dress was nice enough with its chiffon overlay that I didn’t have to change before coming over to meet his grandmother, everything but my undergarments, that was. The underwear and bra I’d picked up on super sale during lunch, so they came in handy.
Jake’s eyelids lowered in such a smolder you would have thought he could see them with x-ray vision, and that wicked look sent off a rush of tingles between my thighs.
“Hi,” I said.
In gym shorts and a T-shirt, with his trademark fresh out of the shower wet hair, he looked so freaking sexy. He leaned forward and his hot breath whispered across my lips. “Let’s go up to my room.”
My whole body tightened at the thought of what he’d do to me once we got there. I sounded a little breathy when I replied, “Shouldn’t you say hi first and invite me in?”
Bowing like Roger, he ushered me forward. “Hello, Juliette, would you like to come inside so I can fuck your brains out?”
A smile tickled my lips. “I suppose I would.”
That was when he grinned at me—a huge, wide smile that made my heart flutter. “You’re too much,” he said, and then he picked me up and tossed me over his shoulder.
I kicked my feet. “Jake! Put me down!”
Ignoring my pleas, he carried me all the way up to the third floor and marched into his room. I lifted my head to look around. I was in his boyhood room. There were plaid curtains, and posters on the walls, and basketball trophies on the shelves.
Closing the door with his bare foot, he stopped just before his bed, his small double-sized bed, and smacked me on the bottom.
I yelped in surprise. “What was that for?”
“For being such a smartass,” he said, as he tossed me onto the mattress and followed. We were a tangle of arms and legs and laughter, but it didn’t take long for the laughter to get swallowed up in a deep, hot, heart-stopping kiss.
I wound my arms around his neck and curled my fingers into his hair as our tongues stroked, and our teeth clashed, and our mouths crashed.
There was a desperation between us that hadn’t been there before. Four days suddenly seemed like way too long to be apart. Hungry for him, I pulled at his T-shirt, and he quickly jerked it over his head, finding my mouth again just as quickly.
We kissed and kissed and kissed until we both needed air, until our lips tingled, until we couldn’t stand not being naked.
Rising up on his knees, he slowly pushed my dress up past my thighs, up over my stomach, my breasts. His touch was warm, searing, and inviting. I reveled in it for a few short moments, but then I raised my arms above my head so he could pull the fabric off me easier.
His eyes devoured me, raking me over as I lay under him in my hot pink lace bra and panties. “Hot pink, I like it.”
I shrugged. “It’s old.”
“Liar.”
With wide eyes, I balked, “Excuse me.”
Reaching down, he pulled something from my bra, and it snapped.
“Ouch,” I yelped.
He held the tag in his hand. “Old, huh?”
Oops.
Forgot about that.
I grabbed the tag from him. “I got it on super sale, so it was old merchandise in the store.”
Shaking his head, he ran his fingers over the lace of the cups and licked his lips. “It’s sexy as fuck.”
Sexy.
He was the sexy one.
My skin tingled where his fingers were caressing it, and the rise and fall of my breath was so fast that I dropped my gaze. It landed on the thick arousal stretching across the fabric of his gym shorts and my breath hitched even more.
When I looked up, our eyes met, and I knew lust had overtaken us. I lifted my head and he lowered his and then our lips met again.
Fireworks.
There were fireworks in the middle of the day.
His hand flattened on my stomach, and he smoothed it upward between my breasts, where he unclipped the front clasp and eased it off. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured.
Cool air rushed over my breasts and they swelled under his admiration. The goosebumps on my skin came naturally as he stroked me softly, his thumbs brushing over my nipples in a gentle circular motion.
When he bent to take me in his mouth, his erection pushed against my belly. I sucked in air and fought the dizzying sensation that swarmed me.
Jake started to move down my body, but I stopped him by pulling on his mussed up hair. He looked up. “Ouch.”
I was shaking my head. “It’s my turn.”
The wickedest grin crossed his face, and he flung himself onto the bed like an eagle. “Have at it.”
Okay, that was way too easy. Maybe he really had been touching himself earlier and was even hornier than I thought, or maybe he just really wanted this.
Rising up on my knees, I straddled him, and his cock sprung up between us. It was like a steel rod of heat on my belly.
Deliciously hot.
I tried to ignore the fact that Lebron James was reaching out to me from the Sports Illustrated poster over the bed that read, “THE CHOSEN ONE.”
The chosen one.
It almost felt like a sign.
Of what I had no idea, but I did know that his skin was warm where I’d put my hands on his chest and that I could feel his heart thump steadily beneath my palms.
Reaching up for me, he cupped my face and brought my mouth to his, and our lips locked instantly. I pumped my hips against his erection, and a lustful and needy throb bloomed between my legs.
It wasn’t until I was breathless that I broke away from his mouth. When I looked into his blue blue eyes, they were gleaming, like the sky through the window and shining just like the sun.
I paused for a heartbeat just to look at him. He really was beautiful, if you could say that about a man. Not pondering on his looks for long, I bent to lick down his neck with my tongue.
Inch by inch, I inhaled the fresh, clean scent of him. I was going to take my time. Trailing my tongue down his body, I outlined the hard muscles of his shoulders. When his body went taut under my touch, I couldn’t think of anything but him and what I wanted to do to him.
I wanted to go slow.
Take my time.
I wanted to tease him.
Torture him.
While my lips glided down his body, his hands were caressing me—up my back, down and around to my sides, up to my breasts. It was as if he wanted to touch me everywhere.
I liked that.
Really liked that.
With a smile on my lips, I licked at his nipple, and he sucked in a breath. And then I counted his ribs with my kisses, and he chuckled. When I reached his sculpted stomach though, his belly muscles quivered beneath my touch. That was when my smile faded. I found myself dizzy for air. As I went even lower, I felt him quake, and I couldn’t go slowly any longer.
I did that to him.
Made him shake and tremble and gasp for air.
With deft fingers, I pulled down his bottoms and kissed the bare skin of his cock. My hands and my mouth worked in tandem down his length to his balls, and back up.
For the very first time with him, I took his cock in my mouth, and the mewing sound he made had me closing my eyes in wonder.
What was this thing between us?
We hardly knew each other.
We were both at crossroads in our life.
And yet, knowing that didn’t seem to change this chemical reaction between us. It should have. It should have been a warning. I didn’t understand it. All I did know was that I wanted to be with him as well. I wanted to touch him. To feel him. Every beautiful inch of him. For as long as I could.
“Don’t stop,” he groaned. I hadn’t realiz
ed I had. I didn’t hesitate to pick up from where I’d left off.
He shifted on the mattress with a sigh that sounded so erotic it made my own body tremble.
I pushed my hands under his ass to lift him closer to my mouth and then I took him all the way in.
“Oh, fuck, Juliette, that feels so good. Take me as far as you can. All the way.”
I did as he told me and took his cock down my throat as far as I could. Over and over. Tip to base, my mouth sucked him, my fingers stroked him, my lips and teeth and tongue moved together.
Soft words and louder groans told me how much he liked it and I kept going. I wasn’t going to stop until he was overtaken by pleasure.
When I sensed he was close, I asked him, “Do you want to come in my mouth or inside me?”
His hips thrust upward. “I want to come inside you,” he whispered.
More than ready for that too, I sat up and pulled him up with me. “That’s good, because I need you to be inside me,” I whispered.
He had a condom on and me on my back before I could blink the sun out of my eyes. And he was sliding his cock in me within moments. “You’re so wet for me.”
I ran my nails down his back. “It’s because you have me aroused all the time lately.”
He grinned. “Oh yeah, tell me more. Do you think of me when you’re getting into bed at night?”
I nodded.
He moved in and then out. “Do you touch yourself when you’re talking to me on the phone?”
I nodded again.
He moved faster and changed position.
“Oh God,” I screamed out.
“Do you make yourself come with my name on your lips?”
“Yes,” I cried.
That electric shock of connection we shared was the first thing I felt followed by a sizzling awareness that, all joking aside, maybe he really was perfectly made to fit me.
“You’re so tight, and you feel so good around my cock. And I can’t stop thinking about being inside you,” he confessed.
Sex.
That was what this was.
All this was.
Good sex.
Great sex.
Feeling his body all over mine was all I needed to expel my silly notions of anything else.
He was leaving.
I knew that.
Yet, it didn’t mean my heart did.
A swell of emotion bubbled through me. I forced it away, and then I let go of everything except making sure my hips met his over and over. When his pace picked up, so did mine.