Maybe we should get a drink, she thought. But he’s definitely not getting any tonight, at most a kiss … or two. Jasmine turned her head, placing a pair of delicate fingers on her heart shaped face. She batted her eyes; her cheekbones were one of the few things she truly liked about herself. When she returned to her table a numb kind of sadness assailed her and a flash of anger twined itself up her spine. She felt naïve for wanting to ask the waiter where Dale had went; her throat felt choked by an invisible hand. She placed her delicate hand on the table. Air seemed to move right through her, she wanted to curl up in that moment and cease the pain of being.
I just don’t understand.
Jasmine placed a series of bills on the table, going through the motions and cursing the man in her head; cursing herself for screwing things up again.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Luke
The bottle of Jack was disappearing faster than Luke had hoped it would, his head slumped against his arms – the world around him felt like it was just a breath away from inverting. You’re absolutely pathetic, Luke thought. Able was always the strong one, he never sought the company of booze or strange; he just faced his shit head on.
Shiv after excruciating shiv, his mind turned page after page of memory. Luke was bone weary.
There’s no more light. No more flame in the darkness.
The bartender, Tony, moved over behind his polished wood counter, looking down at a wasted Luke. “Alright,” he said, the word annoyed him, everything annoyed him – even breathing seemed a laborious chore. Dark thoughts tapped away at his mind. “Give me your keys, Reynolds, I’m cutting you off.” Screw yourself, Tony.
The words came out in a slur, “You take these keys,” he struggled to straighten himself, wobbling a bit, “I’ll bust your head in.”
Tony had the fear in him, it was something that Luke had an intimate knowledge of – he’d seen Luke at his worst and the both of them knew what he was capable of. He motioned with his hand for the keys. “Come on now,” he pleaded, “I’m trying to help us both here.”
“Can’t help me,” Luke snapped, shoving the bartender’s hand away in a burst of candescent rage. It felt good to be angry, better to be furious than sad, it was much too much a burden to bear alone.
Alone, he thought, it echoed throughout his mind, teasing him, taunting him, and in that moment he could picture the emerald sea – the water so vivid and clear; it called to him, like a siren’s song so seductive and pure and enrapturing. He wanted to be lost in her embrace, to feel the beauty that she radiated so effortlessly, so clueless to it, she seemed – she was the coming dawn, casting its fingers of light against the cold and bitter night. He cursed the world as he got up from his bar stool, hating the fact that his breast swelled at the very thought. She had all but killed him, how could he forgive that? How could he still want to forgive that?
Closing his eyes for a moment, trying his best to balance his person, Luke swore that he could smell the sea. Ah, it was sweet, so very sweet and it pricked at his nose with the bite of salt. It pulled him back into those days that felt like only yesterday, standing in the widening gulf betwixt hate and love – he shook his head, thinking back on that horrible sight of Able’s lacerated face.
Opening his eyes he waved back without looking at Tony, “I’ll walk,” he shouted in a drunken stupor. “Put it on my tab.”
I’m just a liar, he thought. Good for nothing, good for letting my— Luke had to fight back the stinging in his eyes, he dared not put any more weight to the grave pictures in his head. He raked a hand through his messy unwashed hair. It had been several days since he showered, the boys had tried to help him – for that he was thankful. They were his brothers always.
Luke walked toward the entrance door of the leaky tavern, the smell of uniquely pleasant and musky cigars filling his nostrils; billiards clacked against one another. He eyed one of the young men, maybe seven years his junior – the dark, disgusting feeling of wanting to hurt someone, anyone other than himself, crept up.
Don’t. He stopped in his tracks, the pain surging through him effortlessly – a white-hot rage billowed up his backside.
Don’t do it. Luke could feel Tony’s eyes on him, but he turned from the door to face the pool table – his eyes narrowing ever so slightly as he watched the two men make their shots.
Three strides and the bloody memory slammed into his mind.
His hand found the cue stick, gripping it so tight that his knuckles turned white.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Jasmine
As the rain poured down with an uncaring assault, her cab on the way; Jasmine’s heart jumped into her throat when she saw him across the street. He was standing beneath the canopy of the bar, trying to light his cigarette. Her yellow umbrella strained beneath the downpour, and she noticed his difficulty in standing, having to lean against the wall to balance his person.
Luke, Jasmine pined, a nervousness and anxiety curling against her stomach. No, she reminded. He wants you to stay away – he doesn’t see you, you should just go. But maybe you should say something? What if he gets hurt? Surely he wouldn’t be stupid enough to try and ride home like that.
Her body locked in its place and the world seemed heavier when their eyes met.
Luke stopped trying to light his cigarette, standing there as the winds kicked up the rain against his person. He was practically soaked now.
The two waited in silence, save for the rain.
Flicking his cigarette with his middle and index finger, the man she at one time knew wobbled his way to his bike – she hadn’t even recognized the steed.
Oh you idiot, what the hell are you thinking?!
Jasmine leapt into the street blindly, holding tight her umbrella and taking long, quick strides; her shoes stomping against a puddle of water.
A horn blared, punching the dreary sky.
She whipped her head around to see the car barreling towards her, a screeching noise piercing her ears – her heart pumped in her chest and her head lighting up with fear. For that wink of time, things seemed more fluid, like everything around her had a rhythm to it.
Jumping out of the way she landed hard against the pavement, body partially landing on the opposite lane – the car swerving tight to avoid her, it’s horn blaring as it sped away.
Luke either hadn’t noticed or didn’t care, he fumbled to get the key inside of its slot.
Jasmine bit down hard on her tongue, trying to ignore the pain – she only briefly examined her elbow. It was marked with a long red patch of torn skin that burned in agony, the rain only served to agitate the wound more. She quickly got to her feet and dashed to Luke.
He turned his head to face her, the rain rolling down his face, his eyes bloodshot.
Jasmine threw her umbrella down and wrapped her arms around him as tight as she could, desperately trying to pull him away from his motorcycle. “Come on you idiot!” She grunted, heaving against his weight to no avail. Her dress was soaked now, nipples outlined.
Wriggling against her touch, Luke mumbled an incoherent mix of words, groaning and struggling against her. “Get off!”
“No!” Jasmine redoubled her efforts, she couldn’t even feel the pain on her elbow anymore – no, all she could feel was the pain of letting him get himself killed. She couldn’t bear the thought, couldn’t live with herself if she didn’t do something. Jasmine didn’t care how much he protested, or how much he hated her.
She still hated herself.
Luke collapsed to the side, taking Jasmine with her and landing clumsily on her person.
Jasmine huffed and started to push him off of her, to the best of her ability – the weight of the man practically suffocating her as the rain made things even more difficult. Her heart hammering, and a maelstrom of emotions swirling within her breast, Jasmine looked into Luke’s eyes as he went to his knees; that’s not just rain, she realized.
Without warning she felt the stinging kiss of tears welling up in he
r eyes
“I miss him so much,” he sobbed, nearly collapsing back on top of Jasmine again, his drenched hair sticking against his head. “I-I should have been there,” he said, seemingly having an epiphany. “If I’d just been there, Jas,” he begged, as though she could turn back the wheel and place him there herself.
She reached a hand up to his face and found her legs, holding him and giving all that she had. “I know,” she assured, petting the hair on his head with her other hand, searching his eyes with her own.
I wish I could take away all your pain. “I’ll get you home,” she promised.
Jasmine pulled the man against her, letting him rest his head against her thigh – soothing him as best she could beneath the weeping sky.
CHAPTER NINE
Jasmine
Luke leaned against Jasmine for most of the ride. Since she could not persuade him to give up an address, she decided to take him back to her home – of which they were only a few blocks away now, the cab turning onto 13th street.
Jasmine’s raven black hair was pushed to her right, still wet from earlier. Her nipples were well defined against her wet dress; thankfully Luke didn’t seem to notice. She stroked his head affectionately, her fingers running through his wet hair as he breathed heavily – it felt good, no, amazing to have him so close. “Luke,” she crooned, holding the back of his head and casting her gaze downward and to the side.
I’m so sorry, she thought. She wanted to say the words, but she feared that she might go into a fit of bawling if the words left her lips. “I missed you,” she confided instead.
Luke drunkenly shifted against his newfound favorite pillow, mumbling the words quickly, “I missed you too.”
She stroked the back of the man’s head with her thumb, giving it gentle little circles of attention. Her lips curled into a thin smile before her eyes wandered down to the man’s crotch, noticing a particular bulge in his pants. It was an impressive bulge, to say the least, her eyes widened a bit and desire curled in her belly. She felt her throat swell with devil’s love and her nipples stiffen against her wet dress, the ends of them tingling – she became painfully aware of them in that moment.
Her breathing quickened and became heavy; she wanted so badly to reach her hand to the mast that was standing at attention just below those soaked jeans.
But she resisted.
After several moments of ogling Luke’s equipment and trying to think of something besides dirty thoughts, the two arrived at Jasmine’s apartment. With the help of the cabbie and what remained of Luke’s coherence, she managed to get him inside and lock the door, nearly collapsing several times as she brought him to her bed.
Luke fidgeted uncomfortably in the bed. Was he having nightmares? He groaned, “Don’t go,” he said, but she couldn’t understand if he was referring to her or someone else.
Jasmine padded away and grabbed a quick change of clothes and made her way to the bathroom. Once she was inside, she let out a long winded sigh and stripped until she was bare, her nipples still hard as rocks in the mirror. She found her fingers trailing down her chest, between her sensitive and beautiful mounds, falling to the bone of her womanhood – a tiny landing strip guiding her to the lips of her sex.
Rubbing her fingers against her pussy, she gasped low to herself, surprised at her own wetness – her nipples aching with a pleasure after touching herself. She swallowed and sucked in a deep breath before pulling herself away and jumping into the shower. After getting out she changed into her PJ’s.
Jasmine grabbed a towel and went back to the master bedroom, wrestling with Luke’s jeans. She successfully pulled them off and tossed them to the side, his erection pressing up hard against his white boxer briefs. She closed her eyes for a moment before putting the towel over his crotch and ever so carefully removing the boxer briefs.
After the hard part was over, she struggled for another good minute getting rid of his shirt. He had an amazing chest, well defined muscles and a sexy patch of chest hair – her eyes slowly trailed downwards where she could see a pathway of fuzz that led to his mast. Bringing herself back down, she then covered him up as best she could with her thick black blankets and propped his head against one of her memory foam pillows.
Jasmine gave him one last solemn look, “Sleep easy, steel cowboy,” she turned on her heel and flicked off the lights, closing the door behind her and collapsing against her couch.
She drifted off quickly into a deep, dreamless sleep.
***
The next morning Jasmine woke up groggy, shifting around on the couch. She could already tell that her hair was incredibly messy. Getting up from her poor excuse for a bed, Jasmine padded through her living room.
She lived in a modern, minimalistic kind of house. Her couch that she had slept on was a royal blue. The one expensive thing in her apartment was her 50 inch plasma TV, the crown jewel of Jasmine’s living quarters. The carpet was a lush burgundy and her walls a pristine white, with the occasional poster plastered on the wall. The Who; Kansas, Veruca Salt and various other bands from when she was just a girl and growing.
Gasping out loud, Jasmine covered her mouth. Holy shit. She glimpsed the stark naked display of Luke Reynold’s chic ass – all bone and muscle and curved in just the right places; she felt the rose between her legs blossom with a great and hungry need. The only thing that he was wearing, was the bronze ring around his finger, and the silver chain along his neck which held the twin ring. His back was glorious in its own right, a black bear imprinted from his shoulder blades down to his tailbone – there seemed to be little stars and a line drawn connecting them, a constellation, maybe?
Craning his neck and chest, carton of milk still in hand and pressed to his lips, Luke made eye contact. He gave that familiar, wolfish smirk.
Jasmine could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks before she squeaked and turned away. “Jesus get a towel or something!” She barked, “and dude, come on, that’s just gross.”
Luke casually placed the carton back in the fridge and shrugged. “Relax I’m gonna take a shower and get out of your hair,” he replied. “Thanks for—“ he paused, “well for what you did.”
Fire slithered up Jasmine’s spine, he couldn’t even admit to being properly thankful; couldn’t bring himself to acknowledge how she saved him. The nerve on that man. Jasmine crossed her arms, listening to the man’s footfalls as he walked away to the bathroom.
Her rage did not last nearly as long as she had wanted it to. She turned around, hearing the showerhead come to life – her heart tapping quicker against her breastbone. He’s so ungrateful, I can’t believe I actually— god, it was so good. Her nipples tightened with pleasure, a warmth linking itself like a hot, thin chain that pulled against her clit. His ass was just so perfect.
Taking tentative steps, Jasmine carefully and quietly approached the bathroom.
The door was left open.
Was he doing that on purpose? She wondered. She could hear the sound of water shooting against the porcelain of her tub, the rhythms of the noise changing for Luke’s every motion in the shower. Dark, wondrous images swam through Jasmine’s mind – his hard chiseled body being sprayed by jets of hot water; Luke’s Adonis belt adorning his swollen cock, it practically made her salivate at the thought.
She’d long been in denial about her lust for the man, having needed a friend – but for as much as the man stirred her; even with the bad blood between them, she felt something. Jasmine pressed her body against the wall, sneaking close to the opening of the door and convincing herself with a thousand reasons as to why she shouldn’t look.
Was he okay with her now? Had he found it within his embittered heart a way to forgive her after last night?
I still haven’t forgiven myself, she reminded. Jasmine closed her eyes and told herself that it wasn’t her fault, that the man was far beyond saving.
Heart thumping in her chest, the strings of love quivering without rest – Jasmine peeked around the corner, ign
oring what she thought best.
He hadn’t even pulled over the shower curtains.
Jasmine’s jaw fell an inch and an unbearable tightness overcame her throat. Her blood became liquid fire in that moment, the ends of her already painfully stiff nipples pulsing with arousal – pleasure coalescing around her hardened pink buds.
Luke Reynolds was as amazing as she had always envisioned. Water rippled down his hard sculpted chest; she had to contain herself not to squee like some overexcited schoolgirl when she noted his Adonis belt, that little V shape. She glimpsed his silver necklace, but God, the man’s cock was unreal. Jasmine bit down on her lip so hard that for a moment she feared she might draw blood – never in her life had she seen such a thing of beauty. Long and hard and with a perfect girth, it was true that only a handful of men had ever come into her life in that way, but Luke was by far the biggest … specimen.
Jasmine could feel her pussy making a damp little spot against her bottom PJ’s. She reached a hand down to her greedy sex and gave it a few good strokes, watching the man intently as he lathered soap along his body.
It was do or die time. Jasmine could feel a set of invisible strings pulling her towards the man that she had so missed. Her body trembled with fear and lust, a low breath parting her lips and a whine going with it – the soles of her feet flaring up with heat. Did he hear me?
She had to go through with it. She wanted him too much. She needed him too badly.
Luke turned around then, so that his back was facing her. The black, intricate ink of the bear seemed to be looking right at her.
And with great trepidation, Jasmine stepped forward.
CHAPTER TEN
Luke
Luke Reynolds’ cock was still hard from the night before, he couldn’t shake the thought of ravaging Jasmine Giuseppe’s lithe little body for all it was worth. He let out a hum deep from his chest as the hot water rained against his face. Showers always seemed to clear his mind, made it easier for him to think – but Jasmine was his constant distraction.
Revved Up Soul: A MC Romance Page 5