All That Jazz (Butler Cove #1)

by Natasha Boyd

  “Hey, Jay Bird,” I whisper as we stand face to face.

  The smell of laundry detergent and his woodsy scent sink into me, making me lightheaded with memories.

  “Hey, Jazzy Bear.” His gaze roams my face, stops on my lips, then drops to my chest.

  I feel his fingers nudge my buttoned shirt apart. When he sees my necklace, his shoulders visibly relax.

  We stare at each other. There’s so much time between us. I wondered what it would be like to see him again. I worried about it. If I’d still feel the same. If he would.

  There’s nothing but love left in me. I feel no anger, no irritation, no regret. Just love. My heart aches with it. My chest hurts. A hot flush is crawling up my neck and tingling in my lower belly. And lust. I still want this guy. God, I want him so bad. I want everything. I want him forever.

  His look moves to my mouth again. Kiss me, I want to say. But he’s waiting for me.

  I reach up hesitantly, slipping my hand around his neck.

  As my fingers graze his skin, his eyes flicker, and he releases a small breath.

  “Jay Bird,” I whisper again, and then coming up on tip toes, I touch my lips to his.

  Tentatively our lips slide together. My hand tightens on the back of his neck, and I deepen the kiss. The fresh taste of him floods my senses.

  Immediately, his arms snake around me and crush me against his strong body. “Thank God,” he croaks against my mouth and then drops his face into my hair. I feel his heart pounding heavily against me as he holds me tight. “Thank God.”

  WE STAND LIKE that, holding each other, for whole long minutes. Then he pulls away.

  It takes a while for words to come. We just smile at each other. In the end he starts first. “You have to go do a whole bunch of people stuff. But later, and after you’ve rested. Maybe in two days or so, can I take you out on a date? I’d like us to start over.”

  I grimace. “I don’t know,” I say and see his look falter. Oops. “It depends on whether you put out on the first date,” I add quickly.

  He breathes out roughly. “You know, sometimes, it is not appropriate to try and be funny. My heart just stopped.”

  “It’s always appropriate to try and be funny.”

  He shakes his head, bemused.

  “So?” I ask.

  “It depends on how hot the girl is.” He shrugs and purses his lips.

  I punch his shoulder.

  “But yeah, this particular girl is so hot, I can’t imagine a situation where I wouldn’t want her in my bed as soon as possible.”

  “We get to do it in a real bed finally?” I ask.

  “Yes and I’d like to make love to her all night and well into the next morning, and for many, many days and weeks, and probably years.”

  My heart triples its pace. “About this ‘making love’ business. Does that mean there’s no debauchery?”

  “Would she like some debauchery?”

  I shrug. “A little. I’d hate for those days, weeks, and probably years, to get boring.”

  “I can promise you, it will never, ever get boring.” He leans in to my ear, inhaling deeply. “And I can be very, very debauched.”

  “Jazz!” my mom calls in the nick of time before I spontaneously combust. “I think these are both yours. Are these both yours?”

  I turn and nod when I see my two overstuffed suitcases sitting on the cart.

  Joey strides forward and grabs the cart handle, heading toward the airport exit.

  Keri Ann slips her arm through mine.

  “So tell me all about your life as a celebrity’s girlfriend,” I say as we head out into the Lowcountry heat.

  THREE DAYS LATER, after I’ve caught up with everyone, and slept for what feels like seventy-two hours, I’m getting ready for my date with Joey. My stomach is doing somersaults inside me, making me feel sick. I don’t know why I’m so nervous.

  It’s Saturday evening. On Monday I start my new position over on Hilton Head Island. I’m nervous and excited about that too, but I can’t even think about it with my “first date” with Joey just moments away.

  I settle on a simple pink strapless sundress I found in Cape Town. It’s the exact shade of pink as the boot on my necklace. I fell in love with it straight away. I shower and let my hair dry to its natural wave, taming it a bit with some expensive product that makes it look silkier. I got used to wearing more make up while I was away, but I keep it simple and just do eyeliner and mascara to make my eyes stand out. I almost tear my drawers apart looking for my Cotton Candy Clouds lip gloss, finally finding it in the small wrist strap purse I used to use when we went out in the evenings in high school. It’s so old, I get nervous. But when I open it, it still smells and looks exactly the same. I swipe some on my lips

  I spin around when I hear a noise in the apartment. Someone’s knocked on the front door. I hear my mom open it.

  “Hi, Joey,” she greets.

  “Good evening, Mrs. Fraser.”

  He came to the front door? For some reason this strikes me as ridiculously romantic. And I get how serious he is about us starting over.

  I head out of my room, and Joey freezes when he sees me. He’s wearing black pants and a pale blue button down shirt. His slightly damp hair is curling over his collar. He looks incredible.

  My heart beats in my throat.

  His eyes sweep down my body, and he visibly swallows.

  “Oh, Jessica. You look lovely,” Mom gushes. “Doesn’t she look wonderful?”

  “Yes, Mrs. Fraser,” he answers, not taking his eyes off me. “She’s the best thing I’ve ever seen.”

  I pick up my purse, that’s big enough to stash the rolled up shorts, t-shirt, and toothbrush I put in there earlier, and go hug my mom. “I won’t be home tonight,” I whisper. “Don’t wait up.”

  I’m sure that’s hard for a mom to hear, but I know she supports me and this thing with Joey.

  JOEY IS LAUGHING as I regale him with stories about Allen and Dave. We’re at a new restaurant that opened on the south end of the island while I was away. We don’t recognize anyone in there, which was totally the point of the choice. We’ve shared a bottle of red wine and are lingering over a crème brûlée dessert.

  “I hope I get to meet them one day,” he says.

  “Me too. I’m going for their wedding. I think you should come with me.”

  He looks at me, his blue eyes glowing indigo. “I missed you.”

  “I missed you too.” Being able to admit this freely to him feels amazing.

  He smiles, and we lapse into silence just looking at each other. His long fingers fiddle with the teaspoon in front of him.

  “So,” I start. “Is your date hot enough?”

  “To put out on the first date?”

  “Yeah.”

  He shrugs. “She’s incredible. Funny, sexy, amazing, and beautiful.”

  “So when are you taking her home?” I raise my eyebrows.

  He holds a hand up. “Check please.”

  I chuckle. Especially as the server falls over herself to respond to Joey’s signal.

  “YOU’VE REDECORATED,” I remark as Joey leads me by the hand into what used to be his parents’ bedroom. Looking around helps keep my nerves in check.

  “Keri Ann did.” The walls are pale grey, and the wood of the king-sized bed frame is stripped and distressed. The big fluffy comforter is white and crisp, dressed with throw pillows of varying sizes and textures. It’s a man’s room without being cold and too masculine.

  He turns to me and takes my bag off my shoulder, setting it on a chair in the corner, then steps in close. A hand slips around my waist and another brushes over my shoulder and slides around the back of my neck and up into my hair. Goose flesh erupts over my skin. I’ll never get tired of the way he gets ready to kiss me. It’s so sensual, so intense, so utterly erotic.

  My own hands climb up his biceps and cradle his strong jaw. The skin is smooth and freshly shaved. My thumb brushes over his full lips
. His eyes are half-closed and glittering beneath his lids as he looks down at me.

  “I love you,” he whispers. “I absolutely love you.” And he lowers his lips to mine.

  His mouth is warm.

  I kiss him back, loving every give and take and nip of his lips. I taste the tip of his hot tongue. Red wine and crème brûlée. I seek more.

  He groans, pulling me hard against him. I can feel his erection pressing against my belly. His fingers tangling in my hair bunch and grow tight, tilting my mouth up, opening my mouth farther.

  My breathing comes fast. A moan emanates from my throat.

  His lips leave mine and slip down my neck.

  Pushing him back for a moment, I catch his gaze with my own and hold it as I step out of my shoes.

  He toes his shoes off and gets to work on his shirt buttons. I watch in fascination as he opens them all the way down and pulls the shirt off his shoulders, revealing his broad, beautiful chest.

  Reaching to my side, I slide the zipper down my body with shaking fingers and let my dress drop to the floor.

  Joey’s jaw flexes, his mouth pressed tight, his eyes roaming my body.

  The way he looks at me is stoking the fire deep inside until it’s roaring, the flames licking upward, stealing my breath.

  “Your turn,” I tell him. My voice is scratchy.

  He unbuckles his belt, and I can see how hard he is. Then he flicks the button on his pants, slides the zipper down, and pushes the fabric past his hips until it too drops to the floor.

  We’re standing in our underwear. It strikes me as funny, and I smile. The smile becomes a chuckle. I’m so happy. I’m so damn happy right now. I can’t believe he’s standing in front of me—the boy I can’t ever remember not loving.

  And he loves me back.

  He laughs too and gathers me up against him. My feet leave the floor. The feel of our bodies coming together skin to skin feels amazing. He walks us backward until we fall across the king sized bed, and he rolls, pulling me on top of him.

  Our mouths find each other again, and our hands roam. His fingers pull down the cups of my strapless bra.

  I shift and lower my breast to his mouth. My necklace dangles against his cheek. He wastes no time drawing me into his mouth. He licks and sucks, and I strain toward him, giving more and needing more. The tug of his mouth pulls through my whole body.

  I gasp, and holding his head, keep his mouth on me. Needlessly, because he’s holding my breast to him, urgently like he’s worried I’ll pull away, tasting and sucking and biting.

  He switches to my other nipple, and building up intensity again, his teeth graze and his tongue soothes.

  The sensations swirl, tightening, my hips are moving against him, finding his rigid hardness, using it.

  “God, your mouth.” I gasp. “I love your mouth. Don’t … stop.”

  He doesn’t. He’s sucking, working his tongue against my nipple. I grind against his lower body, seeking, searching. Oh, God. His teeth nip me, and I jerk my hips against his erection finding the perfect spot. His mouth is relentless, his hips push upward to mine.

  Then suddenly I’m flipped onto my back, and he’s breathing hard. He yanks my underwear down my legs and spreads them. His face is flushed, his chest heaving, his mouth slightly parted as he drags in air. He moves between my legs and settles his mouth on me.

  “Oh my God.” I groan the words helplessly, my hands finding his hair.

  He works his tongue over me perfectly, over and over, until I’m arching up into him. His hands press my legs wide, his tongue searches out all my secrets. His fingers follow, slipping into me and coaxing me toward him. And I do. I come to him. I shudder helplessly toward ecstasy, his name leaving my lips on a long shattered gasp.

  It does nothing to satisfy me. Not even close.

  When his lips find mine again, I can taste myself on his tongue. He’s pushed off his underwear and he’s hot and heavy between my legs.

  His eyes are vivid blue as he looks down at me. “Jazz,” he whispers.

  I caress his cheek and he presses his face into my hand.

  “Are we safe?” he asks. “I have protection. But I … God, I just want to feel you. I want all of you.”

  I nod, burning arousal pulsing through me like it’s the only blood in my veins.

  His eyes flare, and he raises up taking my hands in his, pressing them to either side of my head. His hips rock against me. I feel his length. I squirm, needing him inside me. Aching for it. Begging him with my eyes to hurry up.

  The tip of him slips toward me, and we both inhale. A grin moves fleetingly across his mouth.

  His eyes never leave mine as he presses in, the length of him pressing and sliding. God, the pressure. It’s exquisite.

  I widen my legs. Seeking more. There’s no hard thrust. It’s hard yet gentle, steady but relentless, and my body gives up to him bit by bit. It feels like it should be this way. This relentless push into my heart. This steady and permanent and irreversible move toward forever. He pushes until he’s fully inside me, his hips pinning mine down into the bed.

  “Shit,” he groans. His arms are trembling. “You feel so good. God, you feel so good.” He lowers his mouth to mine, and our tongues meet as he begins a slow rock.

  I’m making noises I don’t even recognize. The feel of him, the look on his face, the love in his eyes. For a moment as I look into them, I recognize the way he looked at me, that night so long ago. And I know. He was telling the truth. He loved me then too. His rhythm picks up, his breathing quickens, and his body trembles and strains.

  “Fuck,” he groans.

  Then he rolls, pulling me on top of him. “I want to see you.” His hands anchor my hips and he presses me down, fusing us together, before thrusting up into me. His eyes are greedy watching my chest, then watching me. The look on his face is one of reverence and helplessness, like he wants to wait to make it last but he can’t. It doesn’t matter, I think. We’ll have other chances. And I can’t stop either. The sensations are too strong. This is amazing. This is what it’s supposed to feel like.

  “Oh my God,” I manage, grinding down on him, taking him as deep as I can. “I can’t … too good. Oh God …”

  “God, do it, baby. Let me watch you fall apart on me.” His fingers dig into my hips. “Please.”

  My body pulls tight, burns, as I continue moving, rocking, pushing down, seeking the relief. The force inside me building to such an extreme, it’s almost painful, but I can’t stop.

  “Oh fuck, the way you look right now, baby. God, I love you so much, Jazz.” The words tumble out of him, desperately.

  I move once more, twice, and my climax rockets through me. I’m crying out my love for him too, spasms shuddering through me.

  Somehow he sits up, burying his face in my neck as I continue to move on him, his hands on my hips drag me up and down. His fingers are bruising my skin, but I don’t care. His breath is hot and heavy and frantic against my skin, and I clutch him to me feeling the moment he gives in to his orgasm, letting it take him hard. I’ve never experienced anything sexier than watching him fight it, keep it at bay for me, and then letting it utterly decimate him. Pouring himself into me.

  His heart is pounding so hard, I can feel it throughout his whole body.

  We’re slick with sweat, and shaking. The fan above us chills my skin.

  I tug his hair gently, urging his head back, and he tilts his face up to me.

  “I love you too,” I tell him and press my lips to his forehead. “Now if you don’t tell me what you told Bethany Winters that day outside school, I’ll never let you do that again.”

  He exhales and chuckles a surprised laugh. “You’re not ready to hear it.”

  I arch back. “You’re kidding, right?”

  He shakes his head. “Nope.”

  “You’re an asshat, you know that?” I glare down at him.

  “I may have heard that once or twice. But I’m glad you dropped the arrogant.”
<
br />   He’s right. “You haven’t struck me as arrogant lately,” I say, surprised.

  “I never was.” There’s vulnerability in his tone. “I was just trying desperately to keep my distance. But I’m completely helpless against you.”

  I run my fingers through the hair at his temple.

  “I’m sorry, Jazz,” he says again. And I know he’s still apologizing for that night.

  “Me too,” I whisper. “I should never have slept with you the way I did. Without being honest.” I lift my shoulders. “And I’m so proud of you and your determination and drive. That part that had you keeping your distance is part of what I love about you. And it allowed me to find myself too.”

  He closes his eyes and curves his back, resting his forehead against my heart.

  We make love again, slowly, reverently, repeatedly. He explores my body and makes me his any way he can. I’m limp and utterly exhausted when I finally fall asleep in the crook of his shoulder, my hand across his heart.

  SUNLIGHT FILTERS THOUGH the blinds. The body curved around mine is warm at my back and holding me close. I smile, utterly content. I would like to wake up this way forever. For the rest of my life. I don’t want to freak Joey out, so I know I’ll never say that out loud.

  He stirs at my back, and I become aware of a broom handle poking my right butt cheek.

  “Oh my God.” I laugh. “You are insatiable.”

  “I can’t help it,” he groans. “You’re here. You’re naked. You’re in my bed. What do you expect?” His lips nip the back of my neck and my shoulder. “Good morning.”

  “It is,” I agree. “But I’m a little … sore? May I ask if we can take some recovery time?” I roll onto my back to look up at him.

  He’s propped up, resting his head on his fist. “Of course.” He sighs with a smile that makes my heart flutter. His fingers find the necklace and he fiddles with it, working the charm down from where’s it’s fallen off the back of my shoulder. He settles it between my breasts.

  “So what are you doing after residency, Dr. Butler?”

  “Well, I’d like to work over on Hilton Head in the hospital for a while, or maybe Savannah. And then …”