I grunt, before taking another swig of my beer. “I’m fine.”
But I’m not. What the hell did she mean when she said no spanks? Damn, does she think I’m some BDSM Dom and wants to warn me she isn’t into kinky shit?
Guess I’ll find out soon enough because here she is, her cute-ass face scanning the bar. I lift a hand and catch her eye. She falters for a moment, walking over to me.
“Want to sit here, or get a table?” I ask.
She twists her lips. “Um, what?”
“I didn’t know if you wanted to order dinner or just get started on the shots now?” I give her a grin and she laughs.
“Sorry I don’t follow. You want to take shots with me?”
Frowning, I pull out my phone. “Pretty sure the shots were your idea,” I say, flipping my phone to her.
Her face goes white, and she spins around. “Oh my God.”
“What is it?”
She covers her face, groaning in misery.
I get off the bar stool, knowing something is wrong. “Hey, let’s go outside for a second.”
The Barn is a hot spot for a reason, besides the big dance floor, live music, and huge bar, there’s a massive outdoor hang out space as well. Lots of private nooks, a swing in the big oak tree, picnics tables scattered, and a backyard bar where you can order drinks. Aylee follows me without a word and we pass a group of guys playing corn hole, a couple making out by the restrooms, and a circle of loud women with t-shirts that read Divorced AF and Divorce Squad.
Alone in a corner, covered by the branches of a willow tree, I ask her what happened.
“That text thread,” she says, licking her lips. “I thought I was texting my friend Jackie. Not Jac.”
I set my mouth in a line, realizing she wasn’t asking me out. She didn't think she was talking to me at all. I’d be lying if I said this wasn’t a massive let-down. Especially considering she looks about a hundred times more gorgeous in this hot pink number than I imagined. I want to be on that dance floor with her tonight, I want to wrap her up in my arms and take a chance.
Finally I manage to speak. “So this was all a case of auto-correct?”
She nods, her face twisted in misery. “A typo if there ever was one.” She moans, pressing her hand to her forehead. “I’m really sorry, Jac.”
“So you usually lay down spanking ground rules with your girlfriends?” I can’t help but ask.
She laughs at that, as if this is all so ridiculous. And it is. But I’m not going to waste my chance with her by pushing her away and letting her pull back in embarrassment.
Pulling out her phone, she re-reads the thread. “I was referring to shapewear called Spanx. Not spankings.”
“Good.”
Her shoulders bounce as she laughs. “And why is that good?”
“Because I admit to liking it a little kink in the bedroom. Glad to know spanking isn’t entirely off the table.”
She runs a hand through her hair, it’s long and loose tonight. Her eyes glittering. It’s a summer night and the sun’s still out and I’m glad. I’ve always felt more comfortable in the sunlight than I have in the shadows.
“You’re trouble, aren’t you?” she asks, finally speaking.
I step toward her. “Depends. Are you looking for trouble?”
She sighs. “That’s never been me.”
“But do you want it to be, tonight?”
She avoids answering, instead looks over her shoulder toward the bar. “Want to grab us a drink while I decide what I want tonight to be?”
I nod, taking her cue and head to the backyard bar, glad that Pax isn’t waiting on me. To be honest, I don’t want to face my friends right now. My biggest issue has always been feeling like I’m not wanted - my childhood gave me that baggage. And it’s just being reaffirmed by Aylee. The first woman in a long ass time that I actually can see myself with. And as I order us drinks and carry them back to the willow tree, I realize that I was never a part of her plan for the night. She wanted her friend, not me.
It’s a tough ass pill to swallow.
She’s sitting on a white Adirondack chair, legs crossed, her upper thigh showing. I sit beside her, the low willow branches blocking the rest of the scene.
“Not sure what you like,” I tell her, handing her a drink. “But I went with a margarita.”
“Perfect,” she says. “I’m a tequila girl.”
Smiling, I say, “Well, I know that.”
She blushes. “God, you must have thought I was so ...”
“Sexy? Yes. I did. I thought shit, I got Aylee all wrong. Here I thought you were a kitten and you’re really a pussy cat.”
That gets her to laugh. “You’re cheesy, Jac. I’m surprised. I thought you’d be all suave.”
I wink. “Oh, I’m smooth. Just takes me a second to warm up.” Our eyes meet and I burst out laughing. “Okay, that’s not true at all. I’m a total idiot when it comes to talking to women.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“It’s true,” I insist. “I rarely date. Just hard to find a woman who—”
She cuts me off, rolling her eyes. “Who throws herself at you? Because that's what you thought I did in that text.”
“I’m telling you, Aylee, I liked it. Why do you think I’m here?”
“I just don’t want you to think I’m someone I’m not.” She shrugs matter-of-factly. “I never hook-up with guys like that. You say you rarely date, but I never do. Heck, I’m still a virgin.”
I choke on my margarita, her words totally catching me off guard.
She smirks. “That’s one reaction to my chastity.”
“God, sorry, it was just not what I expected you to say is all.”
“I can’t believe I told you that. Sometimes I forget my filter.”
“You don’t have to edit yourself for me,” I tell her honestly. “Truth is, I like this side of you. Lots of sides of you, actually.”
She swallows, dropping her chin and lifting her eyes, looking so damn sweet I could take a bite.
“I mean it, Aylee. I came here for you tonight, no one else. So what’s holding you back?”
She blinks, licking her lips. Her words are as soft as her hair looks. “I’m just tired of playing it safe. Never facing my fears.”
“Are we talking about the fact you sat outside the Adrenaline Rush building today or the fact that you’ve never slept with someone?”
“Both.” She sits up in her chair, leaning toward me. I sit up too. Our knees touch, our eyes lock. “Everything. All of it. I’m living my life but not going all in with anything.”
“So what you’re saying is you feel like you’re treading water instead of taking a dive?”
She stiffens at that, raising a hand. “Diving is off the table for now, but I think I might like to get my toes wet at least.”
“In that case,” I tell her. “Let’s do something about that.”
I kiss her then. My mouth drops to hers, and the sensation vibrates through my senses. Desire travels through my veins like a drug, causing a tormenting ache in my balls, a need that’s overwhelming.
And as crazy as it sounds, I know it’s only a matter of time before this woman belongs to me.
Chapter Four
Aylee
His lips on mine send a thousand prickles of pleasure all over my skin. I’ve been kissed before but certainly never like this. Jacque’s arms wrap around me and I find myself moving closer, straddling him in his chair.
I can feel myself trembling, shaking against him. I want to touch him, to feel him, to give in to him completely. Even though I’m not sure what that exactly means.
This is all new territory, and with the shade of the long willow tree branches, I feel free to give into this sensation that wraps around me. Jac draws something out in me just by looking at me. If I’d made that typo with a million other guys, I would have been burning with red cheeks and shame.
But Jac doesn’t make me feel anything but good. Abo
ut myself, my body, my words. Even my fears feel beatable when his lips are on mine. His hands run over my back and I press my palms against his solid chest. He is all muscles and all man and when I sit in his lap, I don’t feel scared even though this is all new territory. I feel wanted.
“Oh God, Aylee,” he groans between kisses.
His tongue explores my mouth and I whimper, loving the way it feels to be in his arms. A man I hardly know, a man who is way out of my league, a man so strong and capable I want to give him everything.
“Do you want to go somewhere?” I ask, panting.
He runs his hands through my hair, looking me over. “Aylee, I don’t want to take this too far, too fast. I mean, you’re—”
I pull back ,standing and straightening my hot pink dress. “I’m what?”
“I don’t want to move too fast with you.”
I bristle at his words, not liking them - I want Jac to ravish me, to rip off my clothes in the car and drag me to bed. I want him to do all sorts of things, least of which may involve spanking.
“Isn’t that why you came out tonight? So you could take the girl in the hot pink dress home?”
He groans, reaching for my hands. I pull away, but when he takes hold of them, I feel my shoulders relax. “It’s not like that. Not anymore at least. You’re a virgin, Aylee.”
“Which means what?”
He runs his thumbs over the tops of my hands. His hands are so big, calloused, and manly. “Which means I want to take our time.”
Heat runs over me, and I can’t hide the smile on my lips. ‘’Fine, but that means tonight we are dancing.”
He stands, pulling me to him once more. Leaning down and kissing me so tenderly it sends a wave of want through me that I’ve never known before. Then he takes my hand and slaps my butt. I yelp, smiling wide.
“Don’t worry," he says with a grin. “When I get you in bed, there will be plenty more where that came from.”
* * *
When I wake up the next morning, I have a silly smile on my face. Jac and I danced for hours at The Barn and I drank margaritas until I got the perfect kind of tipsy. Happy drunk, but able to remember everything about the night.
The way his hands ran over my back, the way he played with the ends of my hair, the way his warm breath felt against my ear as he pulled me close, telling me that he was so happy that I sent the text to the wrong person.
I swear I’ll never live that typo down.
And I don’t want to.
Because of it, I had the most amazing night.
Sure, part of me wanted to wake up with him too, but another part of me is secretly happy he pumped the brakes last night. I’ve never been with a man and to be totally honest, it scares me a little. When it happens, I don’t want any doubt in my mind or my heart.
And it sends a warm thrill over me to know Jac wants the same thing.
I get out of bed, wrapping my hair into a bun on the top of my head as I pad toward the kitchen nook to make a pot of coffee. I live in a renovated travel trailer on a small plot of property my dad gave me. It’s hooked up to the water and power lines and this tiny two hundred square foot home is my version of heaven. It’s as kitschy as a house can be, with a turquoise stove, cherry red curtains, and Christmas lights running along the front. My friends joke that my clothing collection outgrew the trailer and that’s why I opened a shop. They aren’t wrong.
Point being, it only takes a few seconds to get to my kitchen from my bedroom and a pot of coffee is made in no time. Soon enough, I am cross-legged on my couch, laptop in front of me, and coffee in hand. I start my days scouring auction sites for bulk hauls of vintage clothing. I’ve scored some of my best pieces this way. Before I can make any bids, I get a text and set my laptop aside to read it.
Jac: Morning! Had a great night.
I smile, thinking of my reply. Before I answer, another one comes through from Jac.
Jac: Are you wet?
I nearly spit out my coffee. Am I wet? WTH!
Jac: Shit. Sorry. That was a typo. I swear.
I press my knuckles to my lips, trying to figure out what he meant to say. My phone rings - it’s Jac.
Of course I answer it.
“Shit, Aylee. I swear I meant to ask if you are ready to get wet.”
I snort. “Not sure that’s much better.”
“I was trying to be charming. Remember last night, you said that diving was off the table, but you thought you might like to get your toes wet?”
“I see, so it was a classic mistake.” I chuckle.
“Totally classic,” he says, laughing. “So are you?”
“Am I ready to get wet? Gosh, Jac, not as smooth as promised.”
“You’re the one who’s trouble now,” he says playfully. “What I meant to ask was, would you like to go to the river with me today?”
I open my mouth to object, but he cuts me off before I can say no.
“Look, it’s not for rafting, just a picnic. There’s a big water hole I know on the south end. We could go swimming there. Unless you don’t swim either—”
“I do,” I tell him, smiling, appreciating, more than anything, his thoughtfulness. Some guys have given me a hard time before for being scared. But Jac makes me feel brave, so I tell him the truth. “I’m scared of boats, rafts, canoes, kayaks ... but water where I can touch the bottom? I’m good.”
“Awesome. I’ll pick you up in an hour.”
Soon enough I’m in Jac’s Jeep and headed toward the river. I grew up in Barley Ridge, but I have no idea where he’s taking me.
“You are gonna love this place,” he says, turning down a dusty dirt road, and giving me one of his knee-weakening smiles.
“How do I not know about this place?” I ask when we’re parked.
“Being a white water rafting guide means I know lots of hidden gems. This is my favorite discovery.” After we get out of the Jeep, he grabs a backpack and we head down a steep path toward a sandy bank. There are trees all around us, offering us shelter from the heat of the morning, and the sun reflects off the water’s surface, creating a beautiful sparkle.
“It’s gorgeous out here,” I say, breathing the place in.
Jac comes up behind me, a hand on my waist. “Not as gorgeous as you.”
I feel a hint of heat on my cheeks and I turn to face him. “Okay, that was smooth.”
He chuckles, turning me toward him. “It’s the truth, Aylee.”
“You’re not too bad yourself,” I tease, my palms resting on his chest. The man is chiseled and I can’t wait to see what’s under his shirt.
He kisses me then, soft, deep and full of promises. I moan against his soft lips, knowing I’m a goner with him. It’s not just the way he makes my body feel, alive and on fire, but there’s something about him that makes me feel safe.
“Ready to get wet?” he says against my mouth, and I can hear the hint of a tease in his words.
“Time to make another typo.”
“What?” he asks, chuckling, leaning back to look at me.
“T.Y.P.O.” I shrug and give him a playful grin as I pull my sundress over my head. “Take Your Pants Off.”
He laughs. “I’ve never heard that acronym before.”
I toss my dress at him, feeling brave, and sexy in my cute, retro yellow and pink polka dot bikini with high waisted bottoms. “Because I just made it up.”
He pulls his shirt over his head, and my mouth waters when I see the ladder of abs, his hard pec muscles, and oh God, those shoulders. All I can think about is holding onto them as he buries himself inside of me. I swallow over the lump in my throat, an ache so intense pulsing in my core.
And then he’s loosening the strings of his joggers then pulling them down over his hips. For a second, I wonder if he’s wearing anything underneath, and I can’t help but let out a small disappointed sigh when I see the swim trunks he has on.
He walks toward me, a smirk on his lips like he knows exactly what I’m thinking. An
d when he leads me into the water, I barely notice, because all I can think about is him, his palms on my bare skin, the way he pulls me toward him, and I wrap my legs around his waist, the cool water lapping around us.
“So tell me why you don’t like boats,” he says, one large hand on the back of my neck, the other on my ass, holding me against him.
I can feel the hard length of his cock pressed against my pussy, only the thin material of our suits between us.
I try not to whimper, but it’s impossible to hold it back. I take in a shaky breath and tell him, “When I was younger, I used to skate out on the pond in our backyard. My dad always warned me to not go past the rope he put up. I knew that the ice wasn’t as thick. But one day I didn’t listen, and I fell through.”
“Shit,” he says, those light brown eyes studying me.
“I remember the cold the most, then the fire on my skin before it went numb. I tried to get out, but I couldn’t... I kept slipping under...” I close my eyes, remembering. “And then the ice started closing up, and I knew I was going to die.”
“What happened?”
“My sister got my dad. He managed to get me out. But I don’t remember that part. I was unconscious by then.” I laugh, but there’s no humor it. “You know, I think I probably could have gotten over that. In time. But my dad, one day he wanted to take us all fishing out on the lake. His boss had given him his boat to use for the weekend. I didn’t want to go. I was still so scared...but, he told me I had to overcome my fears, so he forced me onto the boat. I cried the entire time. At one point, he tossed me into the water—”
“Fuck, Aylee. That’s messed up.”
“He thought he was helping me. I was wearing a life jacket, so I knew I wouldn’t drown, but...” I shiver, remembering the terror that had choked me, and the distrust that had been born in me that day. I try to shrug it off, but it’s impossible. “The fear of water just kind of stayed with me.”
“Yeah, I get it.” He brushes my hair away from my cheek and tucks it behind my ear.
“You do?”
“Not with water, but...” The muscles in his jaw clench and unclench and he nods. “I grew up in a bunch of different foster homes. Some of the families were great, but I had this one...” His dark brows make a V and his forehead creases. He lets out a rough breath before continuing, “I had this one foster brother who teased me mercilessly. One day he locked me in the basement closet. Left me there for hours.”
T.Y.P.O.: Get Some Series Page 2