Everything But

by Jade C. Jamison

  The guys on the couch were watching a video on the television and didn’t notice me at first. Jim said hi and nodded his head my way as his elbow met with Scott’s ribs. Scott looked up and beamed. He stood up. “I didn’t know if you were coming.”

  I teased, acting like I was offended. “I promised, didn’t I?” The two of them made room for me on the couch.

  Scott held up a bottle. “We’re drinking schnapps. You game?”

  I raised an eyebrow. “I’ll take a shot.” I promised myself that I would take one shot.

  These two had never seen me drink before. At one time, I’d been able to hold a lot of liquor, but anymore, it seemed, I couldn’t hold much at all. I’d have to be careful. I picked up the shot and downed it in one gulp, then chased it with a swallow of beer. The warm liquid flowed down into my chest, spreading, tingling. I almost instantly relaxed.

  Jim started pouring us each another shot of schnapps, and Cassie came and sat next to him. I waved at her. It was too loud to talk with the music and the crowd. Scott held the shot glass up to my face. I drank it, already breaking my promise to myself. I said something he didn’t hear, so I cupped my hands to his ear and said, “Are you trying to take advantage of me?” Oh…that had been a bad idea. I was too close, and I could smell his musky cologne…and him. Jesus…what a heady mix. I felt a quiver run through my body. I was going crazy. I wanted to touch him. But I had to reign it in.

  He turned his head, and the look on his face was one of mild amusement. “You decide,” he said and held up the bottle again.

  “In a little while,” I yelled to be heard over the music, but he poured it anyway.

  I started to grow too relaxed and feared that if I didn’t get up and move around, I’d pass out after the long day I’d had. I used my empty beer cup as an excuse to get up.

  I walked back to the kitchen. A few people had already left, so it was getting a little easier to move through the place. It was still packed, though. When I got to the kitchen, I saw David there, but he was standing on the other side talking to a small group of people. I’d fill up my cup myself then. I bent over to fill it up and it hit me. I was already getting drunk. I was pretty damned buzzed already. So I decided not to fill my cup. I stood up to get my bearings and instead walked to the sink to rinse out my glass and then pour myself some water. I figured out then and there that I couldn’t hold my liquor like I used to…as if the last party hadn’t taught me that lesson.

  No matter, I thought. I was having fun. I stopped by the restroom to check myself. Nothing seemed quite real, but my makeup and hair still looked good. If I slowed down (or completely stopped) my drinking at this point, I should be fine.

  I stumbled a little bit but was feeling all right. When I got back to the living room, I saw Wendy sitting between Jim and Scott. I stood there for a second and was getting ready to move forward when I felt someone’s hand on my shoulder. I turned around. It was Lee. “Casey, right?”

  I smiled. “Right. Hi, Lee.”

  “Did you hear our CD earlier?”

  I cocked my head. “No…what CD?”

  “We’ve put together a CD and so we were playing it for everyone. How long have you been here?”

  “Half an hour maybe.”

  “Oh…you missed it. Maybe we can play it again later.”

  “That’d be great.”

  I heard Scott’s voice. “Casey!” I looked over, and he was motioning for me to sit where he’d been next to Wendy. I looked over at Lee. “Hey…see you later, okay?”

  He grinned, white teeth gleaming. “Sounds good. Nice to see you again, Casey.”

  “You too.”

  When I walked over to Scott, I asked, “You sure you want me to take your seat?” He nodded. “So I missed your CD, is that right?”

  He smiled. “Yeah. I’ll give you a copy and then you can listen to it whenever you feel like it.” I smiled back. That would be fucking awesome.

  As I sat, I gave the expected hi to Wendy. She gave me a look I couldn’t quite figure, but I supposed she wasn’t very happy with me. Scott sat next to me on the arm of the couch. He asked, “You ready for another one?”

  “No way. I need a minute or two.” He didn’t seem affected by the alcohol at all. Before I knew it, his hands were on my shoulders, squeezing them.

  “You’re tense, woman.”

  “Maybe so, but I don’t feel tense.” Maybe I was nervous. No, it was probably sexual tension.

  He kept massaging my shoulders, and it felt like my bones were melting out of my body. His hands felt so strong on me and yet so gentle. “Wow—that feels incredible.” I let my head lull forward, relaxed. But I was aching for him. I wanted him to touch me all over, but I was going to enjoy the moment.

  Wendy said, “Excuse me,” and got up, heading to the kitchen. Yep…just as I’d thought. She’d just been trying to scare me off so she could have Scott all to herself. I wasn’t that easy to scare, though. Now that she’d vacated my old spot, I moved over, and Scott slid off the arm of the couch next to me. I noticed that one of his arms was still on my shoulder, so I leaned into him a little.

  Jim was playing a prank on someone across the room, laughing loudly enough that we could hear him over Slayer, the music that was blasting through their place. Scott said in my ear, “Come with me. I want to show you something.” I looked at him, curious. He grinned. “My new stereo. You like music, so I figured you’d appreciate it. It’s up in my room.” I chugged the rest of the water in my cup and then he grabbed my hand to lead me through the crowd. We headed up the stairs. I slipped on a step and then starting giggling uncontrollably. “C’mon, you nut.” I kept laughing but managed not to trip again.

  We entered his room. I immediately noticed how much quieter it was once he shut the door. Sure, I could hear the music from the living room, but we’d actually be able to talk without yelling in here. His stereo, on the opposite side of the room, was decent size, but the fucking speakers took up half of one wall. They were pretty impressive. I was drawn to it. “Looks great,” I said. My eyes took silent mental stock of his room. There was a bed (a double—thank God), a chair, a desk, some books and trophies. Tons of CDs. A small drum kit in the corner, but not the one he’d been playing at the party where I’d first seen him in action. All in all, it was pretty tidy for a guy’s room.

  Scott was showing me different buttons on the stereo. Boys and their toys. My eyes wandered to the rows of CDs below and next to it and started looking at all of them. He had a lot of CDs of bands I liked and some I only knew by name, but I spotted Lamb of God’s Wrath, a personal favorite, and pulled it out of its place on the shelf with my index finger.

  I handed him the case. “Oh, so you like these guys?” I nodded. “Yeah, there’s definitely hope for you, Casey Williams.” I giggled.

  He put the CD in the stereo and turned it up—not too loud, but loud enough to drown out the noise below. The delayed guitar riff to “The Passing” started playing, sounding crisp and clear from those gigantic speakers. Scott leaned over and pressed the forward button so it skipped ahead to the next track, “In Your Words,” a heavier song that would better show off the capabilities of the stereo. I could feel the demanding music in my abdomen, in my heart. It was a visceral feeling that grabbed me deep inside and incited the beast within. “Sounds fantastic,” I said, closing my eyes to concentrate on the music.

  I felt his hands slide around my waist from behind, and my abdomen, my thighs, my neck tensed in response. Oh, shit…I eased out a deep breath. He whispered in my ear, “You like it?”

  Like what? The stereo or his hands on my body?

  A shiver charged up my spine as my nipples hardened. I swallowed and forced my voice to stay calm. “Yeah. Great stereo.” My voice was coming from my throat—hoarse and gravelly. I got my composure and turned around, his arms still wrapped around my waist. He backed up a little to give me room, but we were close. God…the heat coming off him. I tried not to shudder. I was feeling pl
ayful, though, and I asked, “Are you coming on to me?”

  He smiled back but kept his distance. “Maybe.” Then, “Why?”

  “Because if you aren’t, I’m going to turn back around and listen to this CD. But if you are, I’m going to kiss you.” Holy shit. Had I actually said that? My heart started beating more rapidly.

  He stood there for a second, the smile on his face fading into something else. I saw his pupils grow darker as I sucked in a deep breath. “Then kiss me,” he said.

  You might also enjoy these books by Jade C. Jamison:

  Tangled Web

  Stating His Case

  Fabric of Night

  Worst Mother

  MADversary

  Then Kiss Me

  Got the Life (Nicki Sosebee #1)

  Dead (Nicki Sosebee #2)

  No Place to Hide (Nicki Sosebee #3)

  Right Now (Nicki Sosebee #4)

  One More Time (Nicki Sosebee #5)

  Lost (Nicki Sosebee #6)

  Innocent Bystander (Nicki Sosebee #7)

  COMING SOON:

  Blind (Nicki Sosebee #8)

  Old House

  Quickies

  Also by Jade C. Jamison:

  Nicki Sosebee wants her first headline, but she doesn’t want it to read “Reporter found dead.”

  The series by Jade C. Jamison that has taken her fans by storm!

  Got the Life

  (A Nicki Sosebee Novel)

  Nicki Sosebee has been working low-paying jobs ever since she finished school, but now that she’s older, she wants more. She’s a novice reporter trying to learn the ropes. Just as she’s getting her career goals on track, though, her love life gets worse and worse. Sure, she has no problems picking up good-looking guys for brief flings, but relationships? Out of the question. Maybe it’s because Sean, her gorgeous best friend, just can’t see her as more than a buddy. So when Sean encourages her as she pursues her first headline-producing story, Nicki realizes that her life’s pretty sweet…if only she can live long enough to see tomorrow’s front page.

  Enjoy the following excerpt from Got the Life:

  Nicki’s cell phone rang just as she was grabbing her purse and heading toward the door. Even though she hadn’t programmed the number into her phone (yet), she recognized the number as Carlos’s. She was curious and paused inside the doorway to answer it. “Hello?”

  “Nicki, I wanted to tell you goodbye.”

  “Are you leaving Winchester now?”

  “Yes. I’m already a day behind, but thanks to your friend, I can leave today.” He paused. “I plan to call you next time I’m in town.”

  Nicki smiled. “I’d expect nothing less.” She inhaled. “Maybe I can catch up on my sleep before you come back.”

  She heard him laugh. “I’m in trouble then, because if what we did last night was you tired, I won’t be able to handle you well rested, chica.”

  She giggled. “You know what I mean.”

  “I do.” She heard the rev of a motorcycle. “Take care of yourself.”

  “You too, Carlos.” She hung up the phone, feeling sadder than she would have expected. Of course, Carlos was meant to be one night only and he’d wound up performing an intense encore. Ah, well, he’d been enough fun to take her mind off Sean for a while, and maybe that would be enough to tide her over until she found her next boyfriend. But the poor suckers who played her BFs never stood a chance.

  She arrived at Sean’s garage, glad that she’d changed out of the hot suit. It was blazing out again, and even though it was about ten degrees cooler in Sean’s garage, it was still fucking hot. Sean had Godsmack blaring out of the stereo, so she knew he was in full-on work mode.

  She saw him working on a bike in the back of the shop and goddamn. The boy had his shirt off. How the fuck could she maintain eye contact and have a normal conversation with him if he had his shirt off? As she got closer, she saw that he had a tattoo on his lower back that she’d never seen before. She couldn’t tell what it was and wouldn’t have a chance, because he stood and turned around just as she got closer.

  And the sight of his naked chest took her breath away. He was pure, sweet man, through and through, the ideal for Nicki. Sean might have only been three inches taller than Nicki, but height didn’t make the man. Solid, lean muscle, lovingly cared for, with just a little bit of hair on the chest, dark brown nipples, and a six-pack. Mmmm. That was the ticket. And to think she’d actually caressed that hunk of man there before. But she’d blown it, eight long years ago. And she was about to make a total fucking ass of herself now if she couldn’t concentrate. So she forced her silly licentious grin to become a friendly, warm smile. It was one of the hardest things she’d had to do in a while. “Well, you sure impressed the shit out of Carlos today.”

  “He should be.” Why did Sean look so…pissed? He walked over to the stereo and turned the music down. Probably a good idea, since “Re-Align” was ending and the next song, “I Fucking Hate You,” wouldn’t make the rest of the businesses on the block very happy. As he turned back around, Nicki noticed it for the first time—his bike…his obsession…was gone.

  “What the fuck, Sean? Where’s your bike?”

  A puff of air escaped his open lips. “Why do you think Carlos is so goddamned impressed?”

  Nicki felt her eyes widen. “You gave him your bike?”

  Sean gritted his teeth. “No. I sold it to him.”

  “Why the hell did you do that?”

  Sean turned around, walking back to the bike he’d been working on when she’d come in. “He was in a hurry.”

  Nicki thought of Carlos holding her in front of her door last night bringing her to sweet orgasm and forced back a grin. “He wasn’t in that big a hurry. Trust me—I would know.”

  “That’s what you think.” He picked up a wrench from off the bench beside the bike. “This is his bike here, and it’s got a fucked up tranny. I had too many other things to do, so I couldn’t get his bike fixed as fast as he wanted.” He paused. “But he paid me my asking price for my bike, so I guess I shouldn’t complain.”

  Sean knelt over again and began loosening a bolt on the bike, his back to her again. Nicki’s eyes started to drift to the new tattoo just above his waistband when it hit her. Sean wanted Carlos gone. That was the only explanation she could find. She stormed over to stand on the other side of the bike. “No, Sean, that’s what you want me to think. But you wanted him out of here.”

  He stopped working the wrench but he didn’t look up. “What the hell makes you think that?”

  “You just decided—as a supposed ‘convenience’—to let Carlos buy the bike you’ve been working on for three years?”

  Sean stood, dropping the wrench back on the bench. He looked angry. He was wiping his hands on a rag and then his eyes locked on hers. “What the fuck are you doing hanging with that guy, Nicki?”

  She felt her blood grow warm. “What’s wrong with him?”

  Sean walked around the bike and got closer. “Jesus. Seriously? He’s in a gang, Nicki, a big one out of New Mexico. Do you really want to be involved in that kind of thing?”

  She huffed. “He didn’t act like a gang member.”

  Sean smiled and shook his head as he continued closing the gap between them. “What exactly does a gang member act like?”

  She took a deep breath. He was getting too close, too close for her to concentrate. She could smell him…Sean always smelled like sandalwood and—well, Sean—and he was more potent today than usual. Maybe it was the thin sheen of sweat on his chest that also made his pecs look so fucking gorgeous? She gulped. Shit. She had no idea what to say. “Not like Carlos.” Sean chuckled, stopping about a foot away from her. Enough at least so that Nicki could get her bearings. “Why do you care anyway?”

  His eyes stayed on hers. “Because you’re my friend, Nicki, and I know what these guys do.” Then his eyes dropped to her lips.

  She intended to call his bluff.

  “Bullshit. Y
ou wouldn’t just give your bike away for that. You know I can take care of myself.”

  His voice was low. “You’re right.” His eyes locked on hers again as he placed his hands on both sides of her face, drawing her into a kiss. Nicki thought her heart had stopped beating until she felt it thudding against her chest, as though she were a rabbit being chased by a fox. Her hands cupped his pecs, and she felt the damp warm sweat, felt the hard muscle respond to her hands. Tasting Sean and smelling him up close made the effects of the venti caramel macchiato this morning seem like drinking mother’s milk. God, he tasted good.

  The kiss ended and Sean pulled back. Nicki’s eyes stayed closed, her hands now touching only air. She couldn’t catch her breath, and she didn’t want the moment to end. She heard Sean say, “Shit. That didn’t happen.”

  Nicki’s eyes popped open. She was speechless. “Uh, yeah, I think it did.” She had a pair of dripping wet panties to prove it.

  Sean’s face was stone. “No, it didn’t.”

  Nicki’s tongue played with a molar on the left side of her mouth. She was getting ready to speak, trying to think up a good retort, when she heard a click click at the other end of the garage. Sean looked in Nicki’s eyes again, sending her some coded message, something she couldn’t quite register, and then his eyes darted back to his visitor. Then Nicki figured it out.

  She turned around for confirmation and saw Kayla, wearing tight jeans and a yellow halter top, her tiny B-cup failing to fill its form. Kayla’s long red hair bounced as she clicked toward Sean, extending a brown paper bag. “Lunch.”

  Sean smiled at her. “Thanks, babe.”

  Nicki tried not to puke. Sean’s arms wrapped around Kayla’s waist as Kayla’s arms wound around his neck. Nicki saw Kayla’s white thong string above her jeans, accenting her tramp stamp. God, Kayla was such a stereotype. Nicki couldn’t figure out what Sean saw in the girl. But she was nice enough, more than she could say about some of the women Sean had dated in the past. Kayla turned around, long enough that Nicki had wiped the disgusted look off her face. “Hi, Nicki.”