by Ali Dean
When this question comes up, I typically tell people about my math and business double major, that I’ll be looking for jobs in private equity or investment banking. But I don’t want to admit to something so boring and predictable. “I’m not sure yet,” I tell him instead.
He tilts his head to the side like my answer isn’t what he was expecting. Before he can ask me another question, the waitress is back.
“Impressive,” she muses as she takes away our empty plate. “What else can I get you?”
Jett looks at me and I shake my head. “I’m good.”
“Just the check.”
Jett insists on paying and since I’m accepting this is a real date, I don’t argue. We get back into the truck and I tell him where I live.
“Yeah, I know those condos. They’re really nice. A few of the guys on my team share a condo on the block.”
“My parents bought it our sophomore year as an investment property. They’ll sell it when we graduate.” I realize as soon as I say it that I’ve given away I come from privilege. Normally having wealthy parents isn’t something I think much about or try to hide. But talking to Jett, his family is squarely middle class, and I hope I don’t sound snobby.
But he doesn’t seem fazed. “That’s cool.”
Being with Jett is easy, and just like my body immediately surrendered to his on the dance floor, I find myself settling in to trust him like I would an old friend. And before I can even think twice about it as we pull up to my street, I ask him, “You want to come in?”
I’m suddenly a little panicky, not wanting the night to be over. What if this is it? I want to be with him, lie in my bed with him. I just want to be super close to him, not even because he’s hot and I want him, just because… well, because.
A smile tugs at his lips. “Yeah, Shay, I want to come in. Should I? That’s the real question.”
“This is me,” I tell him and he pulls up to the side of the road, letting the truck idle.
“I don’t get it, Jett. Why wouldn’t you want to come in?” It’s the closest I can get to what I really mean. He’s been a gentleman all night, but we both know he wasn’t one last Saturday night. At least not in the traditional sense. So why is he considering something like whether he should come in? “You don’t strike me as the kind of guy who thinks about things like should or shouldn’t. I mean, not like this. I’m not drunk or anything,” I add kind of stupidly, as it crosses my mind that yeah, that would be an instance where maybe he should just get me to the door and then head his own way.
He has a full-on smirk now when he turns to face me; moonlight, or maybe a streetlight, hits his bronzed skin and high cheekbones. Man, this guy is gorgeous. “Will you go cold on me for another week if I come in?”
“Go cold?”
“Yeah, if I give you what you want tonight, you’ll have it. If I don’t, you’ll have a reason to see me tomorrow night.”
I narrow my eyes. “Now who’s playing games?”
His smirk widens to a grin, white teeth gleaming in the dark. “Not games. Just trying to figure you out. I want you. But not just for a night or two.” He opens his mouth like he’s going to spell out what that means but then changes his mind. His grin vanishes and he leans close. “You feel me?”
I suck in a breath, not exactly sure what I’m telling him when I nod. “Yeah, I think so.”
“You think so?”
“I want you, too,” I spell out, just above a whisper, but confident nonetheless. It’s the truth. “More than a night or two.”
He stares at me for what feels like minutes and then seems to come to a decision. “I think I better lay it out. I don’t just want you in bed, Shay, I want you to be mine. I want to see you more than just occasional weekends, hang out, eat together, talk, whatever. I don’t want anyone else, just you. And,” his voice drops, “I don’t want you seeing anyone else.” Jett pauses for a beat. “Now, do you feel me?”
“Yeah, I feel you.” I can’t believe I’m just agreeing to such possessive declarations, but his gruff words somehow turn me on, even if my mom would be appalled by the concept of a guy claiming one of her daughters like this. I feel like I’m supposed to analyze this, dissect his words, but the truth is, I love the directness. It takes balls. And it makes me really curious how that kind of confidence translates in the bedroom.
I’m done talking. “So are you coming in or what?”
The condo is dark and quiet. “Your sister lives here with you?” Jett guesses.
“Yeah, but she’s not home. We have another roommate, Beatrice, but doesn’t look like she’s home either.”
I don’t bother with lights, just lead him through the dark living room and up the staircase. It feels like turning on the lights will make me second guess what I’m doing, overthink it. And I just want to go with the moment.
My room does need at least some light, so I flip the bedside lamp on. I try to think about what my bedroom must look like to him. It’s neat and tidy, and Kick tells me I’m the only student on campus who makes my bed. It’s girly, I guess, decorated with bright colors.
I’m suddenly nervous as I sit on the edge of the bed. “So, this is my room,” I say, twirling a finger around. “Are you, um, tired?”
Jett looks around and his lips twitch in amusement. When his eyes settle on me, he seems to come to a decision, crossing the room with purpose and lifting me up by my hips until I’m flush against him. His mouth lowers to mine and I hesitate only a second to let my head catch up with what my body is on board with. I open to him, letting our tongues dance together. My body squirms to get closer to Jett, my hands wrapping around his neck as my fingers rub the buzzed hair at the back of his head.
Jett pulls away only to say, “Clothes. Off.” His voice is hoarse and even sounds a little desperate. Or maybe I’m just projecting because I rush to pull my shirt over my head and tug down my jeans. He’s right there with me and we don’t slow until we’re both in nothing but underwear. Jett runs his eyes over me slowly once, pausing a few times in certain areas. His unrestrained interest in me alone turns me on but when I let my own gaze roam over his chest, powerful legs, and briefs, which he’s about to rip through, I can barely keep myself standing upright.
We reach for each other at the same time to pull off the final layers, and then he has me on my back, bare and open. Our eyes meet, and I try to tell him without words that I want him. All of him. Now.
He moves his lips over my body, every bare inch of it. Jett’s lips brush kisses along my neck and his hands slide up my legs and over my hips. His mouth reaches my breasts, and he grazes his teeth lightly over one nipple while palming the other. Jett’s caresses are contradictory like him, hard and soft, gentle and intense. When his mouth trails down my stomach and his head rests between my legs, I moan in anticipation. He glances up at me through hooded eyes, confirming I’m on board, before touching me first with his mouth and then with his fingers in my most sensitive spot. He claimed me outside with his words and he now cements them with his actions.
When he pulls away just as I’m panting and squirming in agony, ready to burst, I want to shout in frustration. But then I’m mesmerized as he sits up, exposing his broad chest and firm abs as he rips open a condom and slides it on quickly. This time, he doesn’t hesitate before moving over me and sinking inside in one smooth push. Jett closes his eyes and stills.
“Fuck, sorry, baby,” he says on a tight exhale. “I had to be inside you.”
I grab his firm ass, signaling what I want.
It only takes two thrusts before the orgasm that’s been building finally explodes, and I arch my back in release. Stars blur my vision as pleasure washes over me, my body reveling in waves of sensation. When my eyes meet his again, Jett is staring at me in wonder.
His thrusts start steady and rhythmic as he brushes kisses over my forehead and cheekbones. When his pace picks up, he takes my mouth in his own, his tongue claiming me as he jerks inside me, filling me with warmth and sending me into anoth
er blissful orgasm.
Jett stills, letting his body rest over mine. His back is slick with a thin layer of sweat as I run my fingers over it. We lie there together breathing slowly for a beat before he pulls out, goes to the bathroom to toss the condom, and comes back to bed. I can’t help but stare as he walks back toward me. This guy. Is he really mine?
Before opening my eyes, I register a large, warm body wrapped around me. Though I’m tall and strong, I feel tiny tucked into Jett, with his arm around me and a leg thrown over mine, cocooning me inside him. An involuntary hum of pleasure sighs from me, and my hips try to wiggle even closer. Last night was perfect. Totally unexpected and absolutely perfect. But if he wasn’t here with me right now, like he is, I’d be questioning all of it. He said some serious things, worshipped my body, looked at me like he cherished me, and now he’s holding me like everything that happened was real, not something I imagined.
I’ve never actually woken up with a guy in my bed. Never woken up with a guy at all. With Julian, I wasn’t sure I wanted to sleep next to him and I didn’t know if he’d want that anyway. The only other guy I’ve had sex with was my high school boyfriend, Colin Boyland, and we never had a chance to sleep sleep together. So yeah, this is new, and I’m a little freaked out but a lot happy.
My eyes snap open when I hear a light tap on my door and it opens. I start to sit up but Jett’s arm tightens and I stay put.
“Uh.” Beatrice’s surprised voice breaks through the quiet. “Sorry to interrupt.” She quickly shuts the door. Bea heard about my encounter with Jett Decker on the dance floor at Mirage. No one else knows, but she lives with us and Kick couldn’t shut up about it all week. Bea’s cool though and didn’t make a big thing about it. I don’t think she was exactly expecting to find him in my bed, but better her than Kick. My twin sister wouldn’t have been able to help herself from jumping on the bed with us and getting all up in our business about how we got here.
On that note, I might want to get out of bed and make sure Bea isn’t telling Kick right now.
“Jett,” I whisper, in case he’s still asleep.
“Yeah baby,” he whispers back. Baby? Baby? I think I like it. I think I love it.
“I’m gonna get up and see what my roommate wanted.”
“No, if it was important she would’ve said so. Stay. I’m comfy.” His voice is muffled as he tucks his head into the crook of my neck, the feel of his warm breath sending tingles through me.
He’s arguing with me after one night in bed? He definitely sounds comfortable. Maybe too comfortable. “I’ll come right back,” I assure him.
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
“Five minutes, and then I come out to get you,” he says sleepily, loosening his hold.
“You’re a piece of work, you know that?” I try to sound indignant, but I’m secretly pleased by his possessiveness.
“You sound like my sisters.”
I huff out a breath. “You’re bossy and demanding and you’ve only been in my bed one night.”
“You like it. It’s me, baby. Get used to it.”
Why does that sound so hot?
“Right. Well, we don’t want Kick hearing you’re in here. She wouldn’t be able to resist coming in to tease me.”
He finally loosens the hold on my arm enough for me to slip out. “You could lock the door,” he wisely suggests.
“Yeah, you don’t know my sister. She’d try to have a conversation through the door.” Shaking my head, I grab a shirt and underwear from my dresser and slip them on.
“Right. Go warn Beatrice then get yourself back in bed.”
I mouth “Bossy” as I back up through the door. He just smiles at me.
Kick’s door is still shut, a good sign, but when I come down the stairs and see who is at the front door, I freeze. Bea’s hand is on her hip and she’s glaring at him and he’s trying to push the door open wider. I start to backtrack so he won’t see me but it’s too late.
“There she is.” He pushes past Bea and walks toward me. “You feeling better?” He’s carrying a bag of bagels.
I’m dumbstruck. Julian has never swung by before with bagels. He rarely ever drops by unannounced, and never first thing in the morning. On a Saturday. We don’t even have practice for two more hours.
“Julian, I think you should come back later,” Bea urges. “Shay was sleeping and I woke her up when you told me she was sick last night and I should check on her, but yeah, maybe you should go.” Beatrice’s eyes are darting from me to Julian and up the stairs, like Jett will come down at any moment.
Julian takes a step closer and I’m thankful his hands are full so he can’t touch me. “I was worried. You were tired on your birthday too and you never get sick. You didn’t answer my texts last night so thought I’d come over. You okay?”
I’m really confused. I thought Julian and I had an agreement. No strings. Maybe it was never voiced, but it seemed to be understood. Why was he being all sweet and caring? And why now? This morning, of all mornings, is the worst timing ever.
Do I tell him the truth? That I’ve got a super hot guy who wants to be serious with me lying in my bed right now waiting for me to come back to him? Do I lie to save his feelings and hope he’ll move on since we never really had anything solid in the first place? The thing that makes this tricky is that he has bagels. I feel bad sending him on his way with bagels. And the coffee smells awesome.
I open my mouth, uncertain what’s going to come out of it, when I hear Jett’s deep voice from the top of the stairs. “Shay, baby, come back to bed.” I spin around, and Jett’s jaw is set in a hard line, his eyes glaring meaningfully at Julian. He’s wearing nothing but boxer briefs.
It’s then I realize I’m in underwear and a thin, nearly see-through T-shirt sans bra, and probably rocking some serious sex bed-head. Perfect.
“Uh, yeah, okay.” I rush up the stairs, unable to look back at Julian. I’m so confused by what the hell he is doing here anyway, I can’t try to figure out what he’s thinking or feeling now that he’s seen Jett shirtless calling me back to bed. Calling me baby. I’ve known Julian much longer than I’ve known Jett, yet it’s Jett’s reaction I’m most concerned about.
My heart is racing from an emotional overload of shock, embarrassment, and confusion. A few minutes earlier I was blissfully happy in my bed and now I’m a mess.
“What’s going on out there?” I hear Kick’s muffled voice before her bedroom door swings open, and at the same time, I trip on the last stair, careening into Jett’s solid chest.
Kick rubs her eyes, clad in panties and a tank, same sleepwear as me. She leans over the banister, takes in whatever is going on, looks back at us, looks back downstairs, and then she grins.
“Hey Jett. Want me to make some breakfast? I was thinking peanut butter pancakes.”
The sound of the door slamming downstairs makes me jump in Jett’s arms.
“Guess Julian won’t be joining us,” Kick murmurs, unable to hide her smirk. She saunters back into her bedroom, presumably to put on some pants and a bra.
My head tips up to look at Jett. He, too, seems to be battling a number of emotions. His dark eyes are serious, jaw set like he’s pissed off, but his mouth is fighting a smile of amusement.
“Guess we won’t be going back to bed,” I whisper.
“Nope. First, we’re going to your bedroom, getting clothes on. Then, we’re hashing out what I just saw. Or who I just saw. Then, breakfast.”
“So bossy.”
“You like it.”
“Whatever.”
He leads me back to my room and I find a pair of yoga pants in my drawer and my favorite hoodie on the back of my door. Jett only has the jeans and T-shirt he was wearing last night, but he looks comfortable.
“I didn’t know he was coming,” I start.
“That was obvious, babe.”
“Right, I know. But he doesn’t drop in normally. That wasn’t normal. That was weird. Reall
y weird.” I run a hand through my hair, wondering how to explain Julian’s presence to this gorgeous guy hovering over me when I don’t even understand it myself.
Jett puts his hands on his hips and levels me with a look.
“You said you two were done?” He’s trying to keep his voice gentle, but I can see the frustration brewing beneath the surface.
“Yeah,” I say, slowly nodding my head.
“Does he know that?” He can’t hide that he’s pissed. There’s a bite to his tone, but I can’t tell if it’s directed at me, Julian, or both of us.
Sighing, I play with the zipper on my hoodie. “I didn’t really break up or tell him because we weren’t really in a relationship anyway. I mean, it didn’t surprise me you’d heard something about us together because we’d been, uh, hooking up for like a year, but it was casual. He wasn’t my boyfriend.”
“Casual?”
“That’s what I said.” I’m starting to get riled up. One night with this guy and he’s interrogating me. But then again, after Julian showed up with breakfast, I can understand it. Jett wants to make sure he’s not “the other guy.” Fair enough.
“You planning on keeping ‘being casual’ with him?” Jett’s voice is low, like he’s reining in a temper.
“No. I told you it was over.”
“Then you need to tell him.”
“I will. Before this morning, I wasn’t sure if I needed to, but now, I know I do.” I purse my lips, thinking about how fun that conversation will be.
“Because he showed up, or because of us?”
“Both,” I say immediately, raising my head to catch his eye.
“Yeah, well, in case I haven’t been clear. You and I aren’t going to be casual. We’re going to be serious.” He speaks slowly, like he’s willing it to sink in as he moves his hands to point between us.
I try to act cool but I smirk at his antics. He sounds like a caveman, but I can’t help it – I sort of like it. “Can we just go one day at a time?”
“Always. But it’s not casual when we’re together. It doesn’t feel that way for me and I can tell it doesn’t for you either.”