The Next Contestant

by Dani Evans

  God, she’s so damn beautiful, and sweet, and… perfect. The thought of her with any other guy, other than myself, infuriates me. If only I could get out of the fraternity, but that’s not an option at this point.

  The entire thirty-two plus miles, Kimber is quiet and I’m deep in thought. I almost miss my turn and sort of slam on the brakes, which startles her.

  “Sorry,” I tell her. “Almost missed the turn.”

  “Hmm,” is all she mumbles, then her eyes take in the scenery as we drive along the Peninsula coast on Cabrillo Highway.

  “Where are we going?” she asks.

  “La Costanera, a Peruvian restaurant in the Half Moon Bay area. You been there?” I glance at her.

  “No, I haven’t,” she says as I turn into the parking lot and search for a parking space. It takes a while to find one. The place is packed.

  After parking the car, I stroll to her side and help her out, mostly so I can hold her hand, which she accepts with what I can tell is a hidden smile.

  The attendant takes my name and a hostess leads us toward our table. I let Kimber follow first. I get a good shot of her butt in a faded pair of diamond bling designer shorts that sit low on her hips, and those long slender legs I’d like to fold over my shoulders and dig my fingers into her nice, firm ass. She glances over her shoulder and catches me eyeing her up. She smirks then folds her hands behind her, covering her butt.

  If she only knew I saw that perfection when she pleasured herself, and panted my name… yeah, she’d probably freak out. I’d like to get her to do that for me, in front of me.

  “Wow. What an amazing view of the Pacific Ocean,” Kimber says as she slides into her seat. I’d reserved a table and we’re lucky enough to be seated in front of the wall to ceiling glass with an excellent view of Montara Beach. By the time we finish our meal, the sun will have set, and you can’t beat the view at night.

  I watch Kimber take in not only the outside view, but also the interior.

  “So cool. The sailboat hanging from the ceiling, the cute seahorse hanging on the wall—I love it,” she boasts.

  The waiter asks if we’d like anything from the bar. Kimber glances at me. “You choose,” she says.

  “Two glasses of Pinot Gris, please.” After the waiter steps away, I offer, “It’s an Italian white wine. I think you’ll like it. If not, then you can have a glass of water… with a straw. I’d like to watch you suck and nibble on it like you did at The Cutting Edge.” I give her a knowing wink.

  “Yeah, right. The way your mind works, I’m sure you’ll be imagining something other than a straw in my mouth.” As soon as she says it, she ducks her head and whispers, “God, I can’t believe I just said that.” She flushes neck to cheek.

  I grab her hand and suck one of her fingers into my mouth, then slowly release it. Then I watch her startled reaction and the way her breath catches, the way she swallows hard, the way her lips part, it’s so fucking hot that I do it again. Then, in a deep, heated voice, I tell her, “I have a very good recollection of what your mouth can do… I’d like to experience that again.”

  She flushes a deeper shade of red and snatches her hand back as the waiter approaches our table with two glasses and a bottle of Pinot Gris. Kimber turns and focuses on the waiter while he fills the glasses with wine. When she faces me again, I give her my best seductive grin, which she softly kicks my leg under the table for. I decide it’s probably not in my best interest to tell her how I want to eat and fuck her bald little pussy with my tongue again, how I’d finish her off, what I didn’t get to do last time on account of her brother interrupting our previous endeavor.

  The waiter steps away so we can view the menu, but I already know what I want, so I watch Kimber nervously suck down her wine.

  “Whoa there. Better slow down,” I tell her as I slip the glass out of her hand and set it on the table. “You don’t want to do that before you eat.” Truth is, I don’t want her drunk tonight.

  While Kimber is examining the menu, and though she passed on appetizers, I order pumpkin soup for the both of us. The waiter gives us more time to browse the menu.

  Upon returning, he brings the soup and I notice Kimber staring at it.

  We both order the crab 10 and as soon as our order is placed, Kimber looks at the bowl and back at me.

  “Pumpkin soup?” she says with a look of disgust on her face.

  I chuckle. “It sounds gross, but it’s actually quite good. You’ll see.”

  She carefully lifts a spoonful to her lips and cautiously sips a tiny bit off the tip. I watch as she absorbs the flavor and then slips the spoon in her mouth. She catches me watching her, raises a brow and after she finishes her bite, she says, “What? So you were right. It’s good. Now stop watching me.”

  AFTER WE EAT, I take Kimber for a walk along the beach. It’s a bit breezy and I can tell she’s cold. Wrapping an arm around her waist, I bring her flush against my side. She snuggles into me and there is nothing but her and I, the crashing sound of waves rolling along the ocean, and the faint sound of people in the background. We’ve walked a great distance. I shift, turning us back in the direction we came from, and lead us back to the parking lot, to my car.

  Once she’s comfortably belted in, I slide in my seat but hesitate, not wanting our night to end.

  “I want to take you home with me, tonight.” I shift in my seat to face her. Her eyes widen and I know she assumes I mean the fraternity house.

  “Jax,” she starts but I cut her off.

  “My house, Kimber. Not the fraternity. I have a home here in the Half Moon Bay area, right off Terrace Ave.”

  “Are your parents home?”

  “I said I have my own house. Not my parents house. And no, I didn’t buy it, my father did. An investment toward my future, I suppose.” I pause to reach for her hand and entwine our fingers.

  “I’m not ready to end our night. Say you’ll stay with me tonight.”

  Very faintly, she whispers, “Okay.”

  I CAN’T BELIEVE he has his own house; that he never mentioned this before. I wonder who else he’s brought here. He must know what I’m thinking because he looks at me quizzically before starting his car and pulling out of the parking lot.

  “I don’t share my home with anyone, Kimber. You’re the first.”

  “Why me?” Why not the others?

  “I want more from you. I… I want to be with you, even if it means I have to sneak, hide it from Kolby and the brotherhood.” Jax reaches over and places his hand on my leg, giving it a light squeeze, then gently rubs in little circles with his thumb.

  As we wind up a hill in a wooded area, Jax slows and turns into a driveway. Halfway up, I can see a rather large home. It’s lit up with yard lights surrounding the front entrance, which is paved in stone I think, and there are two large doors with an arched glass window above them where light filters through from the interior. Another light glows in what I assume is a living room. It’s beautiful, invitingly warm, from the outside.

  He pulls into the garage, closes the overhead door, then after killing the engine, he steps out, but I don’t wait for him to reach my side. I unbuckle myself and step out of the car. He grins down at me as he approaches. Snatching my hand, he leads me inside. I take it all in as he leads me through one living room, which is furnished with a large cream colored couch, matching burnt leather chairs and an incredible stone table with glass in the center.

  “Wow. That table, it’s… I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “And you never will, unless I build another one,” Jax says as he steps behind me and wraps his arms around my waist, resting his chin on my shoulder.

  I arch my head to look up at him. “You built that?” I say incredulously.

  “I did. I’m thinking about a career in architect. Second to soccer, of course.” He kisses my cheek then nudges me forward. There are three living rooms, all of them tastefully decorated in darker, but modern colors. Plants abode in intricately designed
pots, which Jax tells me he created as well. My favorite of the three living rooms is the one with a fireplace in the center of the outside wall. A dark brown chaise lounge sits in a corner, with a lighter colored sofa and loveseat in the center of the room. Of course, it has the stone and glass table I admired earlier with a large, tan, throw rug with cream and dark brown swirls in the center.

  The kitchen is friendly, even for an amateur cook, such as myself. Oak cabinets, metallic appliances, and a small island sitting off to the side with two cushioned barstools fill the space. There is a mini bathroom lavishly decorated with rugs and accessories in a jungle theme, silver brushed fixtures, neutral colors and a pedestal sink.

  “Come,” Jax’s whispers in my ear then leads me out onto a large, fabulous deck made of stone tiles. The stairs are the same material with brick sidewalls and built in lighting. The Ocean is right there, behind a sparsely wooded forest, the moon casting light along the ripples moving lazily across the wide expanse of sea.

  Jax leans into me and speaks in a low, deep voice. “You like it?”

  “I love it,” I respond breathlessly as my mind automatically brings up images of Jax taking me on the long bench, the table, even the sleek tiled floor. And then I wonder what his bedroom looks like, but I don’t dare ask.

  The time spent away from him, pining for him, and being depressed, wondering what he was doing, thinking, and then the most disturbing thought comes unbidden, unwelcome. What did he do with her… how much time did he spend with her, and where is she now?

  My body automatically tenses, my lazy poise now stiff straight.

  He notices. “What’s wrong,” he ask, his voice laced with concern.

  “What about Timber?”

  “Fuck her.”

  “Did you… did you and her—”

  “Fuck no,” he says harshly and flips me around to face him. His face is stern and there’s such sincerity in his eyes when he says, “I’d never touch her like that. Ever.”

  “But you have to pretend to like her. How much pretending do you do?” I hate that I asked, and I probably don’t really want to know, but I’ve already let it slip out.

  “Enough to pass. Stop thinking about it. I want you, not her.”

  “Jax, I can’t let you get caught. Kolby will kick you out of the fraternity. I don’t want that for you. And Timber, she’s evil. She’ll be watching you, probably has your car bugged or something.”

  “We won’t get caught. If Timber threatens me, let her. If she leaks a word, I’ll say she’s lying. Hell, I’ll just tell Kolby I can’t get rid of her and she’s hanging on to me whichever way she can, that she’s lying to blackmail me into staying with her, if she catches on.”

  “God, Jax. I don’t know…”

  “Kimber, I really want this to work.” He points to me, and then himself. “In fact, I’ve never wanted anything more… than this, us.”

  He’s staring at me, eyes burning with intensity so great that it leaves little doubt he wants this too.

  “So,” I pause and shift my gaze away from him, staring over his shoulder at a pretty jungle print etched on a cement plaque. I can’t look at him and continue to ask him what I want to know. “What about the other girls I’ve seen you with, do you want them too?” I snap my eyes back on him. The sudden shift in my mood is not lost on him.

  “What about them? They were nothing more than…” He hesitates, probably to think of a way to say whatever he’s about to say without sounding like an ass, or a user, when in fact, he probably was.

  “Nothing more than a what, Jax?” I sneer.

  “A game, but before you get all pissed off, let me explain, okay?”

  I nod.

  “I wasn’t looking for anything serious. I made myself clear each time, but some don’t believe that and thought they could change me, win my heart, which is what I clearly didn’t want.” He reaches out and wraps a wisp of my hair around his fingers and twirls it before releasing it and palming my cheek. I’m rigid under his touch but he continues. “That’s not how I feel about you. Everything about you, your soft lips, striking blue eyes… you’re a beautiful little firecracker, Kimber and there isn’t anything about you that I don’t want. And I don’t want it for a night, a week, a month. I want more than that.”

  He leans in, pulls me flush against him, and his lips greet mine. What he’s doing to me with his mouth… I’ve never felt anything as incredible as his tongue, his lips, and his touch—hands gliding sensually up and down my back, pausing at the hem of my shorts, fingers sliding in and along the edges—overwhelming my already over sensitized skin.

  He pulls back and I see it, the fire in his eyes, before he grabs my hand and leads me back inside. Releasing my hand, he closes and locks the French doors, then reaches for my hand again and leads me through the house, up the winding stairs, across the landing where there are three bedrooms, a huge bathroom, and a long line of folding doors, which I assume hold linens, towels and bedding, probably a washer and dryer too. At the far end, there is a single door and he leads me through it, then releases my hand. I walk ahead of him, toward his huge four-poster bed, taking in this massive, and very tastefully modern room. Behind the bed, there are tall trees and a glass wall with a painted jungle theme etched into it.

  “Wow. I love your room. It’s… handsomely decorated. Different.”

  “Glad you approve,” he says heatedly, his breath hitting the back of my neck as he steps behind me. He reaches in front of me and begins unbuttoning my shirt, his lips now kissing a warm sensual trail up and down my neck, slowly dragging my shirt off my shoulders until it falls to the floor.

  Jax unclasps my bra, slides both straps slowly down my arms, grazing my skin with his fingers as he slips my bra off. His touch sends quivers down my spine, waking every cell in my body. He’s standing so close that I feel the heat radiating from him, warming me. He brushes my hair over my right shoulder, clasps it in his hand, and angles my head to the same side. He runs his nose down the exposed skin along my neck, inhaling my scent and pauses at my ear. The tension in my abdomen is clenching, quickening at his heated touch.

  The cool air hits my skin as he steps back. I glance over my shoulder and watch as he stares at me under hooded eyes.

  “Turn around, Kimber,” he says, his voice thick with desire. I obey and turn to face him.

  Grabbing me roughly, he pulls me flush against him and his lips are instantly on mine. So soft, so full, so passionately he kisses me.

  His wet mouth, the sweetness of his tongue, the depth at which he’s pressing it in, stroking my tongue, has my already sensitive skin tingling. He flicks the button of my shorts open, drags the zipper down, then slides his hands inside, shoving them down. I step out of them, never unlocking my lips from his.

  Pulling back, Jax inhales sharply, his eyes are feral, roving over my nearly naked body. He remains fully clothed, but I’m about to fix that. I reach for the hem of his white t-shirt, which has the first four buttons unfastened, revealing the perfect line between his chest, defining his gloriously chiseled pecks. His mouth finds mine again, one hand gripping behind my neck, pulling me closer. His lips slide across my jaw, down my neck, and a little moan escapes me. He grunts, then kisses a seductive trail down my chest, his large hands grasping around my ribs, thumbs joining at the center, rubbing little sensual circles. His fingers continue to tighten and loosen, and then tighten further as he latches his hot mouth onto my breast. It feels so good… I’m about to explode. He walks me backward until the back of my legs hit the bed. Reaching behind me, his tongue still deep in my mouth, temporarily unmoving, his scorching eyes locked with mine, he flips the comforter down.

  His hands slip down my sides, over my butt, between my legs, and he grasps them, lifting me onto the tall bed. He goes down with me, then breaks the kiss to drag me into the center of the mattress. Kissing down my abdomen, he pauses to grasp my panties, then slowly tugs, and I raise my hips, allowing him to slip them off. Then he shocks me
by dragging his tongue slowly, seductively up the inner side of my thigh, over the crest of my hip, across my abdomen to the other hip, then back to the center, and down between my legs… oh, god. His hot mouth is all over, rough, gentle, biting, long tongue pushing inside me…

  “Mm,” he mumbles, trailing his hot tongue between my slit and circles my clit. I hear the metal of his belt clank; he’s working his jeans off with one hand, not once does his mouth stop the delicious assault. He shifts a bit and kicks his jeans off. Then he palms my thighs, rubs circles with his thumbs, spreads and presses my legs down, moans, sucks my clit and the glorious sensations he’s creating rush through me and I moan loudly. This causes him to groan and crawl up me. Sliding an arm underneath and across my back, he drags me up further on the bed. His frantic lips find mine, his tongue pushing inside and dominating my mouth. I think of where he’s just been and I’m thankful I don’t really have a taste.

  The warmth of his skin pressing against mine… the way he pauses to look into my eyes: serious, predatory, passionate… as if he’s asking permission. I gasp a little as the tip of him presses lightly against my entrance. He kisses me again, deeper, then pulls back, eyes never wavering, and the tip of him presses in further. He pauses, closes his eyes, a hiss escaping from his partially open mouth.

  Jax shifts slightly and then…

  I gasp and shudder at the sudden thrust of his hips, the strength and size of him filling me completely. It’s almost painful. He presses open-mouth kisses over my cheek, against my ear, then pauses.

  “Fuck, Kimber. Just… Don’t move. You feel so tight, so wet, so unbelievably good and I want to fuck you long and hard, and I will, but right now, you can’t move or I won’t last.”

  “Oh…” I’m panting, “I… okay,” I whisper.

  Jax lifts up slightly, concern etches his magnificent features. “Am I hurting you?”

  “Yes,” I whisper. He tries to pull away but I wrap my arms and legs around him, holding him against me. “No… not that kind of hurt… just… hot pain. Just… go slow.”