by Fiona Cole
I was halfway to making myself believe it was for the best that he had left when I heard the door slam shut. I jerked to look inside, clutching the sheet tighter, prepared to kick room service out, when Jameson came sauntering outside with a tray full of fruits and breads and two cups of steaming coffee.
“Hey Sleepy-head.” He leaned down, kissing my parted lips before setting everything up on the table in front of us. “I know you love strawberries and I had to fight this mean old broad for them, but I got the last bunch. I was for sure she was going to –.” He stopped when he looked up to see me just staring at him with wide eyes. “What? I didn’t actually fight her.”
I blinked and shook my head a few times to clear the shock of him being there and me being wrong about him leaving. My mind was having a hard time catching up to the new reality where Jameson stood before me with my favorite fruit and coffee, babbling about how he would have taken down an old lady to get them. “Nothing.” I wanted to say more to explain away my weird actions, but I couldn’t come up with anything. So I did my best to change the subject. “Thanks for breakfast,” I muttered, looking down to hide my emotions.
He stood to his full height and cocked his head, assessing me. I kept casting sideways glances as I added cream and sugar to my coffee. “You thought I left.”
I stuffed a large strawberry in my mouth to avoid answering. Instead I scoffed at his comment and shook my head, mumbling, “No,” around my full mouth.
He stood for a little bit longer and I swear I could feel his eyes running over me like a set of hands. It made me uncomfortable, like my skin was too tight. I wasn’t used to being in this position, and I had to admit that I didn’t like it. Having the feelings about him being gone before I woke was bad enough, but to have him call me out on them was mortifying. I was Evelyn Valero. I used men and left them in the dust, not a single emotion in the mix.
Sitting down, he grabbed my cheeks and made me look at him. I did my best to give a bored stare, but he had known me my whole adult life. He could see through my act and it annoyed the shit out of me. “Evie. I’m sorry I stole your thunder by leaving before you woke up. I know that’s usually what you like to do after sex.” His wink let me know he was joking and I could have collapsed in his arms for making light of the situation. It was weird, but nice, having these moments with someone who knew you so well.
“I do leave the men always wanting more.” I popped another strawberry in my mouth.
“Oh, I definitely want more.”
I paused mid-chew, wondering what he meant. I knew Jameson wanted a serious relationship, but surely he knew better than to ask that of me.
“More of your lips,” he softly spoke against my skin, kissing the corner of my mouth. “More of these perfect breasts.” Tugging the sheet from under my arms, he made his way down, dragging his tongue across my collarbone and down and around my nipple. Parting the sheet further, he dropped down in front of me and pushed my knees out to make room for his shoulders. “More of this sweet pussy.”
“There are people on the beach.” We were secluded behind the trees, but if anyone happened to look over hard enough, they would easily be able to see the giant currently pushing his shoulders between my thighs and kissing down my stomach.
“So what,” he spoke into my right thigh, kissing higher to my core. Looking up at me he finished, “Let them watch.” With a flick of his tongue right over my clit, all of the outer world and fears from this morning disappeared.
Getting us breakfast wasn’t the only thing Jameson had done in the morning. He joked that my muscles were so thoroughly worked over the previous night that he’d booked us a couple’s spa day. My heart stopped over the word couple, but I told myself to stop being so dramatic and relax. It was just the name of the spa package.
By the time we finally got dressed again and were ready to leave the hotel, we had just enough time to grab some lunch at one of the restaurants outside. Surprisingly, everything felt easy and natural. Despite the fact that we’d changed a huge part of our relationship, we still were playful with each other. Jameson poured salt in my water when I went to the restroom and I still made him blush by turning him on in public when I pretended to give a piece of celery oral sex.
We almost missed our appointment because he had to take extra time to get his hard-on under control before standing up to leave.
Walking into the spa made me feel like a queen. They escorted me to a bamboo locker room and wrapped me in the most luxurious robe that was thick, yet still light enough to not make it feel hot. We made our way down a stone path on bare feet and up onto an elevated pergola located on a private section of beach. The thatched roof blocked all the sun and the decorative white curtains hanging around the poles blew in the wind, surrounding us in our own oasis where the only music was the crash of the waves and some reggae coming from hidden speakers, playing quietly.
The two female masseuses pulled the curtains and left us to get under the blankets. I dropped my robe and leisurely climbed onto the table. I watched Jameson, waiting for him to do the same. When his robe hit the floor, my eyes couldn’t look away from the thick erection standing straight out. Holding his junk close to his body, he laid on the table and rolled his eyes at my laughter.
Once the ladies came in and rolled the towel down to my waist, the world around me ceased to exist. Jameson had splurged on the ninety-minute massage and I swear, my mind melted away to another plane of pleasure for the entire time. I didn’t even know why they bothered with the romanticism of a couple’s massage. I could have been in the middle of Grand Central Station and I would have been oblivious.
The next thing I knew, my name was being called in a deep voice right by my ear. “Evelyn.” Then a tongue dragged along the shell of my ear. “Wake up, sleeping beauty,” Jameson whispered.
I opened one eye against the late sun dropping in the sky and eased my head to look up into his smiling eyes. When the sun shone on them, the midnight blue softened to a lighter shade. “Hey.”
“Hey. They said we were the last couple of the day and we could take our time, but I figured you would want me to wake you.” He stood up, offering his hand to me. “Especially with the way you were snoring. I thought it was a jet ski going by at first.”
Standing up, I used my spare hand to slap his chest. “Oh, shut up. I do not snore.”
“I guess you’ll never know.” He shrugged and held the robe open for me before we made our way back down the path into the spa. After we changed into our swimsuits, we went to relax in the heated lounge pool. The room was long and narrow to match the pool with benches all around and had a Buddha statue situated in the middle. On the end was an opening to the lush jungle surrounding a single showerhead to rinse off all the oils.
Jameson and I stood under the water and rubbed our hands over each other’s bodies. The privacy added to the intimacy of standing under the single showerhead surrounded by the birds and insects singing their song around us. We didn’t speak at all, just touches and kisses following the trail of our hands. When we were mostly clean, he reached down and picked me up, pulling my legs around his waist, turning to walk us inside back to the pool.
Jameson eased us back onto a bench with me straddling his lap, the warm water lapping at my breasts where they were pressed against his chest. Staring down at him, seeing Jameson, a part of my mind wanted to panic that this was happening. And not only happening, but happening repeatedly. But the feel of his palms smoothing over my bottom, sneaking under the edge of my bathing suit, wiped those thoughts from my mind.
We were in Jamaica. We were enjoying each other on vacation. Everything would fall back to normal when we got back home. For the time being, I decided to enjoy the moment, push him like I used to. “What now, Jamie-Boy?”
He didn’t answer, but moved his hands over my butt and to the front of my thighs, dragging them up and down, brushing his thumbs over the crotch of my swimsuit on every ascent. My hips started jerking closer, chasing his
thumbs when they moved back to my knees. “Fucking tease,” I growled against his neck.
His chuckle rumbled against my throat before his thumb moved the center of my bathing suit aside and ran up the seam of my pussy, pushing to press and circle my clit. “Yes,” I hissed.
“Aren’t you worried someone will come and see you riding my hand?” he asked, leaning back, showing the challenging glint in his eyes. Jameson had an exhibitionist streak in him. I couldn’t say I didn’t like it.
“Let them see.”
Licking his lips, he pulled my suit aside completely and eased two fingers into me. Wanting to return the favor, I moved my hands to untie his swim trunks and get to his dick. But he grabbed my wrist and moved it back up to his shoulder. “I’m not sure it would be proper etiquette for me to have my cum in the relaxation pool.”
“But I want to make you come.”
“Save it for later. Let me feel you squeeze my fingers as they fuck you.” He moved his fingers in and out slowly. But as my moans became more frequent, his fingers moved harder, hooking inside on each pull out. His thumb slowly tightened the circles around my clit. “You better hurry up and come before one of the workers comes to kick us out. And you might want to keep it down,” he joked, knowing what he was doing to me.
“Fuck you,” I breathed, riding his hand. My whole body felt overheated and on fire. The steam around us created droplets on my skin and the water sloshed against my skin from my frantic movements. He began pushing harder and leaned in to bite my nipple through my bathing suit.
The coppery taste of blood flooded my mouth when I bit my lip to control the shout from the sting of pain. But it didn’t last long before it transitioned to a tingling, pleasurable burn. He alternated from one nipple to the other making me lightheaded from holding my breath, from controlling my moans.
It was too much. I couldn’t control it anymore, and I knew I was going to lose it. I was running full force over a cliff where I had no control of the noises that left my throat. I leaned in and bit down on his neck, groaning my orgasm into his skin.
His movements slowed and he brought me down carefully, making the circles around my clit wider and easing his fingers from my still clenching pussy. Kissing his way up from between my heaving breasts to my neck, he whispered, “We better get out of here. Just in case someone heard you.”
Slowly, I moved off his lap and made my way to the steps. “I tried to control it. But you make it so hard.”
“No kidding,” he deadpanned, looking down at the tent in his shorts. “You kept it down.”
We made it all the way to the doors of our dressing rooms before he turned to me and gave one last parting shot. “I mean; it was at least quieter than your snoring earlier.” With a wink, he walked into the room, leaving me standing there with my jaw hanging open with indignation.
Twelve
“Did you plan all this before you came to Jamaica?” I asked the next day over brunch on the patio. Apparently, Jameson had booked us a sailing activity for the day.
“Not really. I browsed the activities before I came, but I thought I would play it by ear. But since I have someone to spend my time with, I thought I would try to make the most of it.”
The fact that I could be that person for him made happiness swell in my chest. Stuffing a muffin in my mouth, I hid my smile. I didn’t want to give him a big head. At least not any more than I had already with all the orgasms I’d given up to him. The man was better at bringing me pleasure.
“So what is it we are doing again?” He mentioned it earlier as we were leaving my room, but all I could remember was that it had a weird name.
“It’s called Hobie Cat Sailing.” At his answer, I raised an eyebrow at the off-the-wall name. He smiled. “Trust me, you’ll love it.”
The thing was: I did trust him. I mean, he was always solid, reliable Jameson. But on this trip I had begun to see a different side of him. It could have been all the sex making me more aware, but there were times I would catch him watching me with a deeper look in his eyes. Like he was studying me. As though he was trying to see what was so different about us this trip.
It filled me with equal parts excitement and dread. No man had ever looked at me in a way other than with desire and lust, trying to seduce me out of my clothes. Jameson looked at me like he wanted to know inside me, every part. It was disconcerting, because the more he looked, the more I wanted to let him in.
Obviously, none of it was planned. But still, in the farthest reaches of my imagination, where I imagined Jameson and I hooking up, I thought it would’ve been one night of drunken debauchery followed by a morning of awkward regret, never to be repeated again. Instead, Jameson had spent the previous two nights with me in my bed. Hell, we had napped together after the spa the previous day. Napped! As in he held me in his arms—with clothes on—and we’d just slept.
Sure, we had woken up and had sex, but it wasn’t our original intention when getting into bed.
The bigger surprise…
I had liked it. A lot.
I had felt so relaxed after my orgasm, so safe in the cocoon of his large body. So content after spending the day with my friend. Because he was. Jameson was my friend first and foremost. He had watched me grow up with Luella and make my way through my crazy college years. We picked on each other, but I knew that if I ever needed anything, Jameson would have been there.
But to feel that mixing with the newly forming sexual part of our relationship was confusing. It created a stir of emotions inside me and they churned like waves. But then I remembered we were on vacation in Jamaica. I was sure once we got home, things would settle back into the ‘equilibrium’ that Luella liked to refer to.
Shoving the confusion aside, I smirked and cocked an eyebrow. Leaning my elbows on the table, I sat forward and squished my breasts together for him until they almost spilled out of my bikini. “Will we be alone?”
“Yeah…” He dragged it out slowly staring at my cleavage. “I have experience with Cat Sailing if that is what you’re worried about,” he finished a little defensively.
“Oh, I have no doubt of your …. experience.” Licking my lips, I continued, “I just wanted to make sure we were alone so I could enjoy all of your experience.”
He picked up his mimosa and drained the contents before grabbing my hand and jerking me out of my seat.
“Tell me about your life before college,” Jameson asked from next to me as we lay on the middle netting of our sail boat. Turns out a Hobie Cat sailboat was like a small catamaran. It looked like two canoes, called hulls, held together by netting and magic with a sail in the middle. Before we had tied off to a small buoy further out in the ocean, Jameson had showed me his skills by tipping the boat onto one of the hulls and making me scream in fear that I would fall off and die.
He called me dramatic and I called him an asshole. But in the end it was thrilling and made me want to jump all over him as I watched his muscles flex and tighten while he controlled the boat.
“What do you want to know?”
“Anything. Were you just as crazy in high school as you were in college? What’s your family like? You’ve talked about your mom and how she’s a little … intense.” He stumbled over the correct word to use when describing my mom. In all fairness, he’s only met her a couple times briefly and seen how she misses holidays for work. “But what about everything else? Who you were before I knew you.”
His words washed over me, pressed down on my skin. No one had ever asked me about how I got to be the way I was. No one asked me about my past. Luella knew, but she was my sister from another mister. And sitting there with my eyes closed against the shining sun that warmed my skin, my fingers linked with his, I didn’t know how to answer.
Jameson judged me for my relationships, or lack thereof. He judged my lack of self-consciousness and filter. But that was okay, because it was me. The me who was comfortable in her own skin. What would he think about who I was when I was still figuring myself
out so many years ago? What would he think of my mom and how she shaped me?
“I don’t know.” I paused, trying to pick out the words that were less likely to be judged. He squeezed my hand. “I guess things felt more crazy in high school because I hadn’t quite accepted myself. I guess I was the same. I was always open to new experiences. Maybe a little bit more careless as I tested the waters mixed with caution about how other people saw me.” I peeked over at him to gauge his reaction about my carelessness. Instead, I was met with his impassive face taking in the sun and my story. “But I was still figuring things out. And I still cared about what people thought of me. At least in the earlier years. But in college, I had Lu and she was unlike anyone I had ever had before. With her by my side, I felt okay with finally letting loose. And as you know, I did.”
He heaved a sigh. “Yeah. You both did.”
“We weren’t that bad.”
“I guess you were okay.” He paused moving his head back to face the sun. “Maybe.”
Reaching my hand across my body, I slapped his bare shoulder. “Tell me about you when you were in high school.”
He chuckled. “Now there’s a drastic difference.”
Intrigued, I leaned up on my elbow, turning to face him. “Oh really? The tight-ass, controlling Jameson actually let loose every once in a while?” Throwing my hand to my chest, I gasped. “I am just shocked.”
He squinted an eye and turned to me, muttering, “Smartass.” I returned his comment with an innocent shrug. “Well, when I was in high school I had a lot less responsibilities and more free time. And I definitely took that time to focus on whatever I wanted. Which, at the time, was football, friends, and girls. Man, we had some crazy parties.” He stared up at the sky, but instead was seeing the memories he was lost in. “I’m still not sure how my dad didn’t kill me.” He let a laugh escape, remembering. “Probably because he was so busy chasing around Asher and Luella. Those two were trouble. And since my mom had died a few years earlier, he was just trying to stay afloat. I guess he let it slide with a slap on the wrist as long as I was safe and kept my grades up.”