Heels of Love (G Street Chronicles Presents From Love to Loathe Series)

by Phoenix Rayne

  We both sat there in silence, and then she took in a deep breath.

  “You know he’s already in love with you if you haven’t figured that out already,” she told me.

  “He’s been in love before,” I said.

  “SHE SPEAKS!”

  “I’m no different than any other girl.”

  “Oh, but see, that’s where you’re wrong. You’re independent, you’re plump, you’re smart, you’re gorgeous, you’re an Alpha, but you’re also broken, and you will never truly love him.”

  I heard a car door shut outside and pushed out a deep breath of relief. He walked in, and his eyes went straight to mine and then to his mother’s.

  “If you said something to piss her off I swear, I’ll cut you off,” he yelled.

  I stood, walked over to him, and wrapped my arms around him. “She didn’t say anything.”

  “I don’t believe you,” he said.

  “Nothing happened, Lil Samson,” she lied.

  “I need to get you out of here and away from them,” he said.

  “You need to call Loon; he’s been looking for you,” she said.

  “Shut up!” He yelled back at her. I touched the side of his face and our eyes met for a moment. He kissed me on my forehead and then he pulled me with him. He started towards the hall where the phone was.

  “Jyme,” I whispered. He turned around to face me. He stood there waiting for me to speak.

  “I’m okay in there with her; go take care of your business. I mean she hasn’t killed me yet.” I said to him jokingly.

  He gave me a small smile then he nodded at me and I turned and went back into the front room with her. He went into the hall and used the phone mounted up against it.

  Mrs. JJ went into the kitchen and came back with a pile of something on a saucer with a biscuit.

  I looked at the saucer and shook my head. “I don’t want it.” After I spoke, I realized I was being rude and was acting like a little kid.

  “It’s just a sausage casserole,” she snapped.

  “I’m not hungry,” I said.

  “Well, at least eat the biscuit.”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “It’s just a damn biscuit,” she growled.

  Now I knew where Jyme got his growling technique. I pulled the biscuit off the saucer, and she grinned at me. This biscuit was not going anywhere near my mouth.

  He walked back into the kitchen, and she handed Jyme the saucer with another biscuit on top of it. He held the phone in one hand and started eating.

  Well, I guess she had been feeding him all his life, and she probably wouldn’t kill him. But I didn’t think that rule applied for me. Jyme ate that stuff on that saucer, all the while still on the hallway phone.

  Mrs. JJ stepped into the grandma’s bedroom and shut the door behind her. I went to the restroom, crumbled that biscuit into a thousand pieces and flushed it down the toilet. I washed my hands once, then twice, then three times.

  Jyme hung up the hallway phone and told me he was ready to go. Then, he said he’d be right back; he needed to go next door and tell his grandmother goodbye. I went into his bedroom to get my jacket and now-dead cell phone. Mrs. JJ stood in the hallway staring at me. I knew she was looking at me, but I paid her no mind.

  “You said he’s been in love before and that you were no different than any other girl. He has never missed a day of work for anyone. Loon thought something had happened to him and that he was dead somewhere. That is how I know he is in love, and that is why you are different. He never loved Elle like that; she was just his entertainment. And you’re his life and soul.”

  Jyme opened the front door, and Mrs. JJ walked towards the front room. We left right after that, and Mrs. JJ’s words made my blood turn cold. I looked over at Jyme in the driver’s seat, and he smiled. I wondered who would break who first, would I him or would he me. This strong, sexy, trustworthy man was going to make a permanent dent or be a beautiful addition to my heart.

  I made it to my first assignment in plenty of time. I really needed to focus on my tasks for the day and push Jyme way to back burner. I had been over absorbed with him, and it was starting to show. I looked drained and my eyes didn’t have their normally sparkle like usual. I felt sluggish and I longed to hear his voice and feel his touch. I missed his arms around me and I wanted to taste him on my tongue. I had to snap out of it and get a better grip on my grounds. If this is how addicts feel, I know why they relapse.

  I walked into the shop and was greeted immediately by a cheerful face. I ordered a latte and blueberry scone; she offered to up sell me, and I took the bait. The shop was not that busy, but the drive thru was booming. It was so warm and clean, maybe the cleanest I had seen.

  I decided to pull my laptop out and sit for a spell. Beyoncé sung from my phone, and I grinned from ear to ear.

  “Hi there,” I chimed.

  “Hi there.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Stuff.”

  “What kind of stuff?”

  “Stuff I need to do.”

  “You’re impossible,” I laughed.

  “Can you do lunch?”

  “Why do you keep feeding me? I need to lose some weight so I can get out of these double-digit jeans. That will never happen if I keep hanging out with you.” I joked.

  “Why would you want to lose weight, and I wear double digit jeans.”

  “Guys jeans don’t count; your double digit jeans are really a single digit, according to the women’s law.”

  “Whatever. Are we doing lunch?” he asked.

  “Sure,” I sighed. I laughed into the phone and grinned at his voice. “So what extravagant restaurant shall we visit today? And will we be close to the water?”

  “What was that?”

  “That was my British accent; it comes out sometimes. And I-AM-NOT-ASHAMED-TO-ADMIT-IT.”

  “You’re weird,” he said with a laugh.

  “And you’re sexy.” We both sat there in silence.

  “I love you,” he said.

  I sat there frozen. What was I to say if I didn’t feel the same?

  “Cricket?”

  “I’m sorry. I need to go. Text me the address for lunch.” I disconnected the line before he could respond.

  The cheerful face appeared in front of me. “Excuse me, we just got these samples in, and I see you enjoyed your scone.”

  I looked down and realized someone had stolen my scone right off the table. Then, I wiped my mouth and realized I was the thief.

  “Would you like to try one of our new cheesecake treats?” she asked.

  I nodded.

  And she placed one on a napkin in front of me. “Now if you like them, you will have to come here to get some more. We’re the only store in the WORLD that’s serving these. We’re kind of like the companies guinea pigs.”

  “Thank You” I said. She walked away and asked the table next to me if they were interested.

  My phone beeped, and I checked the text message. Jyme had texted me the address and nothing else.

  I texted him back. “See you at 12:30.”

  He never responded.

  At 12:30, I walked into The Purple Café and Wine Bar, and the hostess approached me. I told her I was meeting someone, and she guided me through the restaurant. I saw Jyme and pointed towards him. She grinned at me with a thumbs up. “Good choice.”

  He stood and held my chair out. He wore a cream, long-sleeve Henley unbuttoned, denim jeans, and brown boots with a brown jacket hanging over his chair. Jyme was a very well-dressed man, and he had the body to wear damn near anything. He gave me a quick peck on my lips and sat back down. He just sat there and stared at me, not saying a word.

  I picked up the menu and tried to use it as a wall against him. I chuckled and coughed, trying to hold back my grin. I ordered the Champagne Battered Alaskan Halibut; Jyme ordered the Seared Hanger Steak.

  We sat quietly staring at each other. “You don’t drink at all,” I asked.


  He shook his head no and looked down at his Coke. “Do you cook?” he asked.

  “I can, but it’s safer to eat out,” I laughed. “Tell me about her.”

  He looked over at me and then looked back down at the table.

  “Why?”

  “Never mind,” I sighed. I looked at the tables on both sides of us; the people there looked happy and full of conversation.

  Jyme sucked in a deep breath and then blew it out. “I’ve had over a year preparing for you; I’m not about to mess that up now. What do you want to know?”

  “How were you two together?” I asked.

  “Nothing like how we are. She is what someone would call a plain Jane. She didn’t like to go anywhere, she didn’t like to do anything, and she would get pissed every time I left. Sometimes my job would have me traveling all over the state and into Oregon. I would ask her to go with me, but she didn’t want to. Then, she would want me to stay at home with her, but I’ve a family to support. You have seen my dad; he is not capable of doing anything. I started my own fishing company when I was twelve. I’ve known Elle since I was born,” he explained.

  Our food arrived, and he paused for second before cutting his steak. “At the very end of our relationship, she started going to visit her sick grandmother up at this reservation a few miles up from ours. There is a store closer to her grandmother’s reservation that she used to go to a lot. She met this guy there one day, and all of sudden she was pregnant.”

  “How did you know it was not yours?” I asked.

  He looked up at me and moved in closer. I leaned in, too. “We hadn’t had sex for months; every time we did she would be out of commission for a week,” he whispered.

  I closed my eyes and sucked in a deep breath. “You telling me that does not help our situation, you do know that right?”

  Jyme dropped his fork and knife on his plate, and they made a loud clinking sound. A few people at the nearby tables stopped to watch us for a second. He sat back and started pinching the flesh between his eyes.

  “She was not a good match for me,” he hissed.

  “She was not a good match for what? Sex or just for breeding purposes?” I laughed.

  “It’s not just the breeding,” he whispered.

  I dropped my fork on my plate. Those same few people watched us extra close now.

  “What do you mean it is not just the breeding?” I asked.

  “Cricket, we believe in large families,” he said.

  “Oh, my God.”

  I reached for my bag on the floor and dug through it.

  “Cricket, CRICKET! Don’t leave from this table.”

  I found my wallet and pulled out two twenties. I laid them on the table, pushed my chair out, and took my jacket from the back of my chair.

  Jyme stood quickly and dug into his wallet. He snatched my two twenties off the table, and I turned away from him. I had just made it to the entrance door before I felt the grip on my arm. I froze in the doorway. A man trying to enter the restaurant held the door open for me.

  “If you don’t let my arm go, so help me God, I’m going to start screaming,” I threatened. The man holding the door stared more closely when he heard me and then saw Jyme on my heels.

  I walked as fast as my Stilettos would allow me to. I pulled the car keys out the jacket pocket and unlocked the door before I got to the car. I wanted to get in and slam Jyme out. I was maybe four steps from the car when Jyme stepped out in front of me with his palms face up. “Cricket, listen to me. I’m not letting you leave until you hear me out. You are blowing this all out of fucking proportion. You think I am just going to let you up and leave over something so stupid. It’s really not what you think!” he shouted at me.

  “Move,” I yelled at him.

  “Cricket!” he yelled again.

  “Move out of my WAY,” I yelled back.

  Jyme moved from in front of me. I yanked the car door open and slammed it. I tried to start the car, but my hands shook so badly that I dropped the keys. I threw my head over the steering wheel and bawled like a newborn baby. I had never been this emotional in my life and over a guy nonetheless. I was not sure what this man had done to me, but I didn’t like feeling like this. I had control of my life not anyone else, but I just could not seem to get a handle on it. I had my very first full-blown panic attack less than twenty-four hours ago, and now I was working on my second.

  “Cricket, open the door,” he soothed.

  I really started crying hysterically then. He opened the car door and leaned in. I tried to push him away from me, but the air started getting thick and air was no longer entering my body. “I can’t breathe,” I wheezed. I heaved and heaved, and nothing was happening. I could hear people asking if I was okay, and then a man asked Jyme if he knew me. Jyme answered that I was his girlfriend and that I was having a panic attack. A woman asked if she should call an ambulance. Jyme yanked me out the car and I tried to fight him off me.

  “CRICKET, STOP FIGHTING ME!” he yelled. He held both side of my face, so we could make eye contact. “I’M GOING TO BREATH AIR INTO YOU AND YOU PUSH IT BACK OUT TO ME. UNDERSTAND?” he yelled.

  Jyme then put his mouth on mine and pushed hot air into my mouth. “Give it back,” he mumbled. I did, and we did this over and over. I finally felt like I was breathing on my own. I heard a woman say, “Here is a cold cloth, sir, and some water.” Jyme put the cold cloth on the back of my neck and opened the water.

  “Cricket, drink some water.”

  I sipped and then sipped some more. I looked down at the glass bottle and thought, Who in the hell gives away Voss water. What kind of swanky place was this?

  The crowd had died down some and a man who said he was a physician asked if he could check my pulse. I sat back down into the rental, and he checked me over. “What’s your name, love?” he asked in a thick accent.

  “Cricket,” I whispered.

  “Cricket how long have you been having panic attacks?”

  “I had my very first one last night,”

  “What happened during the attack?” he asked.

  “I blacked out.”

  “She passed out,” Jyme corrected.

  “Did something or someone upset you, last evening?”

  We both looked over at Jyme, and he stiffened.

  “What about today? Did something or someone upset you again?” he asked.

  I didn’t dare to look over at Jyme this time. I just nodded my head, too afraid to hear my own voice now.

  Someone handed the good doctor a black bag, and he opened it, pulling out a stethoscope. “Your blood pressure is high, and your pulse is still racing,” he said. “Who’s your family physician?”

  “I don’t have one yet” I said.

  “Yet?” He placed both of his hands on the both sides of my neck. He pressed down hard with both of his hands; he did this a couple of times.

  “I just moved to Washington State two weeks ago.” I told him nervously.

  “Oh, from where?” he asked.

  “Tennessee.”

  “You don’t have an accent,” he said.

  “How would you know?”

  The doctor laughed and then handed me a business card. “I believe you will live, but you need to see someone about those attacks.”

  “Are you taking on new clients?”

  “No, but I’m willing to make an exception. Call the number on the card and tell Judy I told you to call.”

  “Thank you.” I smiled at him.

  “No problem, love.” He closed his black bag and walked away. I watched him until he got into a Mercedes SUV. I turned and pulled my legs back into the rental.

  Jyme squatted at the door and leaned his forehead on my thigh. It took all I had not to dig my fingers into his ponytail. “I’ve got to go,” I said.

  “Don’t leave me.”

  “I’ve got to go back to work.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “I have to go.”


  “Can I see you tonight?” he asked.

  “Not tonight.”

  “Why not?”

  “I just need some space.”

  “Cricket, don’t do this. I don’t think like that anymore, I’ve told you. I rarely ever go back to the reservation. Babe, please?” he begged.

  “I’ll call you tomorrow sometime,” I said.

  “Cricket, I have to see you tonight. I’ve got to touch you and feel you tonight,” he begged.

  Jyme leaned into the car and pressed his lips against mine. He kissed me twice and got no response from me. “Cricket, kiss me.” He kissed me again and still no response. He kissed the side of my neck, and then he went to my ear. “Cricket, I need you, I want you, and I have to have you.”

  I shifted and parted my lips. Jyme took full advantage of this moment. His lips found mine in seconds, and he forced his tongue into my mouth. I kissed him back fiercely, and then he started cupping my breasts. I woke from his hypnotism, realizing where we were. I pushed him off me, and he started back at my ear.

  “I love you. I love you, Cricket, and I only want you and nobody else. Tell me you don’t want me right now. Tell me,” he demanded.

  “No,” I whined.

  “I’ll see you tonight, okay?”

  “I hate you,” I cried out.

  “No, you don’t. You love it when I do this,” he teased.

  “No, I don’t.” Hot tears ran down my face now, and Jyme was getting deeper and deeper in the car with me. Thank God, the parking lot was almost empty, and I didn’t see a soul walking around.

  Jyme stuck his tongue in my ear, and it broke me. I hadn’t a thing else to hold on to; I was a complete goner. I prayed I didn’t have an earwax buildup in my ear, but if I did Jyme didn’t care. I cursed my ears for being so damn sensitive. That tongue of his was my kryptonite, and I wanted to rip it from his throat.

  “Tell me you love it,” he hissed. Once again, his tongue was back in my ear. “Tell me,” he growled.

  I started getting a little light headed; I took a serious double take at the parking lot now, and those same three cars were still there. I didn’t see anyone else but us. I unbuttoned my trousers, and he slid his hand in my panties. I threw my right leg over onto the passenger side. “Don’t stop until I fucking cum,” I breathed.