by Fiona Cole
“Oh I bet you looked hot as hell in those tight football pants.” I fanned myself for effect. “I’m drooling just thinking about it.”
“Maybe I’ll have to dig them out for you.”
Jerking my head to look at him, I gasped. “Don’t you dare tease me, Jameson King.”
His chest shook with laughter before he fell silent. I let that silence hang around us as he collected his memories. This was the most I’d ever learned about Jameson, and I didn’t want to interrupt. Lu had talked a lot about her parents over the years, however, Jameson never did, and I could hear the sorrow laced into his words. “Then Dad died and I had to push all that aside to step in for Asher and Lu. College was put aside. Football was out of the question, and I got a job at the bar and worked as many hours as I could while still taking care of Lu and Ash. It didn’t leave much time for goofing around.”
My heart ached for him. Jameson had lost more people in his life than most, and hearing the sadness lace through his words reminded me why this man was so in control. He’d had to be from the age of eighteen. I shifted to lie on my side and rubbed my hand over his chest, soothing him the best I could.
“Then it became about supporting Lu through college. When Asher died on his first deployment, I held on more tightly to Lu, which you know she just loved.” How this man was able insert sarcasm with a smile while listing off the tragedies he had suffered blew my mind. I was there when the King siblings lost Asher. But all my attention was on my best friend. Jameson was just the constant rock keeping everything afloat. I never saw any emotions showing how it affected him.
Hearing his tone resonate with pain was like having a light bulb go off in my head. Everything before it had been dark. This conversation was giving me a deeper glimpse into Jameson, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to look, but I couldn’t help but keep staring and taking it all in.
“Ever since Lu began settling down and having Jack to take care of her, I’ve kind of struggled with my place in life. For so long I was the one holding everything together for our family. And now, it’s just me. I feel like for the first time in eighteen years I can finally get back to just me. Not that I would ever take back supporting Lu and Asher,” he rushed to reassure me. “But it leaves a lot of room open to think.” His hand reached up and dragged through his hair. “I mean, I’m thirty-six. I want to settle down. I want to have a family of my own now. I want to focus on me. And for the first time in a while, it’s okay to be selfish.”
Everything he wanted in life was laid out in front of me, causing my heart to pound out of control and a ringing in my ears. Because I was the woman he was currently having sex with. My mind couldn’t help but wonder if he saw me filling that position. It was fucking scary, and I broke out in a sweat that had nothing to do with the heat of the sun. My lungs felt like someone was squeezing all the air out of them. No matter the amount of fun we were having in Jamaica, I was still me and didn’t want a relationship with anyone. Listening to him talk about what he wanted and being the current woman in his life was like standing too close to the sun and staring at it, even though you knew it would blind you eventually. But I couldn’t look away. Instead I sat silent.
“Sorry,” he laughed. “I guess that is more than you wanted to know.”
It was more than I thought he would tell me. But I collected every piece of information and tucked it away in a box just for Jameson. I didn’t know what to say, and panic was still lingering around me, waiting for me to give in. What would I do, roll off the boat and swim the mile to shore? Instead I blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “My dad died when I was little and it destroyed my mom, making her hate love forever.”
He turned to look at me with furrowed eyebrows, searching my eyes for more information. They held me captive, silently asking for my secrets. His blue eyes, lightened by the sun, pulled the words from me.
“She used to tell me how love was useless and would do nothing but hurt you. She always reminded me to never fall in love.”
The curiosity turned to sadness, maybe even pity. But I didn’t want it.
“It wasn’t bad,” I said a bit defensively. “She pushed me to be strong and independent. She shaped me into the woman I am today. I’m Evelyn Valero. I don’t need anyone. Especially a man.” They were the words I had repeated again and again throughout my life. But explaining it to him in that moment, my head bowed in fear of what he would think, the words lacked their usual conviction
When the boat rocked on the waves, I lifted my head just enough to see him lean up onto his elbow, facing me. Biting my lip, I lifted my chin high and met his gaze, remembering the pride in who I was a woman. I didn’t care what anyone thought. Not even Jameson.
But I did. And while I could pretend I didn’t care, I could see in his gaze that he knew that I did. I held his stare, silently pleading with him to not call me out on caring about his opinion on how my mom raised me. Hoping that he would change the direction this conversation had taken.
Leaning forward, he used his thumb to tug my bottom lip from between my teeth and moved closer to gently place his lips on mine. My shoulders sagged with relief that he had read me so well and moved away from the topic.
Taking the olive branch he’d extended to me, I pressed harder into him until we were aggressively kissing and fighting for dominance. Our teeth clashed and tongues dueled. As was quickly becoming the norm, Jameson’s dominance won. Most men wavered at my assertive nature, my honest sexuality. But not Jameson. It was fascinating, the way it changed the pace of our relationship. Of this relationship compared to my others. He pushed me back easily, and I fell onto the netting underneath us.
When he had me on my back and situated himself between my spread thighs, he finally pulled back from the kiss with a twinkle of victory in his eye.
“Asshole,” I muttered.
“You love it,” he said between kisses down my neck.
I did. And it scared the shit out of me.
Thirteen
After I lost the battle for dominance on our little boat, we headed back to shore. We arrived back at the hotel, and he walked me to my room. Instead of coming in like I thought he would, he leaned in to place a soft kiss on my neck. “I’m not coming in.” He nipped at my ear. “Take a nap and get gorgeous.”
I pulled back with narrowed eyes.
“Trust me,” he said with one last quick kiss. With his hands on my shoulders, he turned me toward my door and swatted my bottom before he walked away.
The nap was unsuccessful, my mind spinning over our conversation that afternoon and my random confessions about my past that I’d never shared with anyone other than Lu.
However, the getting gorgeous part was easy. Sir Mix-A-Lot wrote Baby Got Back for me. Thirty-six, twenty-four, thirty-six: that was me. Pair that with my long dark hair blown out into beach waves, and gorgeous might as well have been my middle name.
The humidity had spiked in the past day, so I was grateful I had packed a short flowy romper with spaghetti straps. And with the tan I’d gotten, my skin looked even better against the cream-colored fabric that was bursting with orange and pink flowers.
When I heard the knock on the door, I fluffed my hair one last time and grabbed my purse. My fingers dug into the heavy wood when I opened the door, like they were resisting reaching out and yanking Jameson into my room. He stood there in a fitted black, short-sleeve button up that was opened at the neck revealing his tan, muscular chest. I let my eyes scan him all the way down, taking in dark khaki shorts. Paired with his classic canvas chucks, it was the sexiest version of Jameson yet. I had to let go of the door to check and make sure drool wasn’t falling off my chin.
“Like what you see?” he asked, knowing damn well the effect he had on me.
“You need to step back and let me out before I yank you in this room and climb you like a tree.”
“And after I fucked you so hard on the water, giving you – what was it? Two or three orgasms?”
In
haling deeply, I stepped into his space and closed the door behind me, fighting off what his dirty words did to my body. It was a side of Jameson I still wasn’t used to, and it knocked me off balance. I was the one who spoke the bold, shocking words. But his mouth was just as dirty as mine was. And I loved every word that passed his full lips.
“It was three. And it’s never enough.” I admitted with no shame, walking past him, head held high.
“God, you have a greedy pussy,” he growled.
Turning to look over my shoulder, I smiled. “You love it.”
“Damn right I do.”
Catching up to me, he placed his palm on my back, which was left bare from the backless romper.
“So what are the plans tonight?” It was already after nine and we were just then heading to dinner.
“I reserved us a table at a restaurant that’s connected to the top club in the resort.” Lifting my eyebrow, I turned to him, surprised by his choice for the evening.
“Are you actually going to dance with me?” I asked.
“Maybe. But I know how much you love it, and I plan on watching you all night as you dance for me.”
“Ohhhh … I see. I’m basically your private entertainment,” I teased. “Jameson, if you wanted this earlier, all you had to do was ask. I would have done it years ago.”
“Trust me, I wanted to. I can’t tell you how many times I had to move to my office when you were shaking your tits and ass at the bar.” My eyes widened in shock at his admission. “It was either that or bend you over the bar right then and there.”
“I might not have minded that.”
He harrumphed, but didn’t comment. He did that a lot on vacation – mention that he’d always wanted me, but never explained why he’d held back. I always figured it was because of Lu and our friendship, but the more he avoided it, the more I thought it might have been something else.
Dinner at the restaurant was interesting. We were seated at a table in a cream and beige restaurant that had open patio doors making up one side of the room. On the opposite side sat the club, hidden behind a wall of almost blackened, soundproof glass. It was sexy, hinting at the illusion of bodies writhing to an unknown beat on the other side.
Throughout the whole dinner we played twenty questions. It was amazing how much time you could spend with someone and not know their favorite color. His was blue. When I told him mine was the rainbow, he shook his head laughing and muttering, “Why am I not surprised?”
The questions were mostly innocent, but of course, I slipped in some inappropriate ones. When I asked him if he would let me play with his backdoor, he just cocked an eyebrow and turned the question back at me.
Sipping my wine, I shrugged. “Who knows,” I answered vaguely. “Definitely not here at the table. So, we’ll never know unless we finish dinner and you let me dance for you.” Setting my glass down, I continued. “Maybe once we get back to the room, we’ll have to find out.”
With a low rumble in his chest, Jameson signaled the waiter for out check. “You’re lucky I’m taking you dancing after that comment. I should drag you back to the room right now.”
“What would be the fun in that?” I laughed.
He just raised an eyebrow and smiled, hinting at all the ways he could make that fun.
Once everything was paid, he grabbed my hand and we made our way to the side entrance to the club. When the door opened, we were hit by the bass of the song. With his hand on the small of my back, he guided me to the bar.
“What do you want to drink?” he asked, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear, sending a shiver down my spine.
Turning in his arms, I looked up innocently. “A blow job.”
His eyes flicked down to my tongue rolling across my lips and swallowed hard. With a nod, he moved me to his side and wedged his way into a spot against the crowded bar. I watched him fail over and over to get the two male bartenders’ attention. Watching his jaw clench in frustration for a couple more minutes, I then decided to put the man out of his misery. He was so used to running a more low-key bar and didn’t realize that a bigger club was all about the ladies getting served and the male bartenders getting tipped for it. Jameson was fair at his bar and worked hard to practice a first come, first served attitude. But not here. That dark-haired, tanned male behind the bar was working his dimples into every smile against the poor drunk women in the bar.
Moving under Jameson’s arm, I forced my way into his spot against the bar. “What do you want to order?”
“I don’t need you to do it. If this guy would just open his eyes, I could order my damn beer and move along.”
“Oh, Jameson. You’re so cute. Let Evie take care of it for you.” I stood up on my tiptoes and rested my elbows against the high bar, pushing my breasts between my upper arms, accentuating the cleavage spilling out of the deep v of my top. When the bartender began walking past us again, I kept my eyes glued to him, waiting for him to take the bait. His eyes flicked to my breasts and up to my eyes. I even licked my lips slowly and bit my bottom lip. When he slowed, all I had to do was speak a soft, “Hey,” and he was in front of me waiting for my order.
Boys were so easy.
“What can I get for you, beautiful?” He leaned in closer than necessary so I could hear him speak and kept his eyes mostly glued to my bared skin. Feeling his eyes move over me made my skin crawl unexpectedly. I flirted with guys all the time to get drinks and their attention never bothered me. But feeling Jameson at my back made it feel wrong to have another man ogling me.
I dragged my finger down the side of my neck, lowering it to my chest to subtly shift the fabric to cover more skin. “Hmmm… I would love a blow job,” I answered. I wanted to make sure we got service all night. And despite my hesitance to continue flirting, I was a girl with a plan and I wasn’t backing down.
His mouth kicked up on the side at my choice of drink. “Anything you want gorgeous, a blow job, sex on the beach … screaming orgasm.” I wanted to laugh at his lewd suggestions. But a large hand landing on my hip and pressing into my bottom made me hold it back.
“I’ll take a beer to go along with my girl’s blow job,” Jameson growled over my head, dragging his hand from my hip to my shoulder, clearly staking his claim on me. As though the ‘my girl’ comment wasn’t enough. I tried to ignore the butterflies that started in my stomach and rushed to my chest, reminding myself I was no one’s girl but my own.
But maybe tonight – just tonight – I could be Jameson’s girl. Not just the girl he sleeps with in Jamaica, but the kind of girl who allows herself to be claimed by him.
The bartender straightened and let his eyes travel up to find Jameson, who I was sure was glaring at him with disapproval. But the bartender was brave and winked at me. I had to fight to not roll my eyes. “One beer … and a blow job … coming right up.”
Jameson’s head came down to my ear and bit into the fleshy lobe, the overgrown stubble in his chin abrading my neck. “You want to put your tits away or are you going to just go ahead and pull them all the way out to lock in the free drinks?”
I tipped my head back and nipped at his chin. “It got us our drinks, didn’t it?”
He grunted, staring down at me. He seemed to be weighing his words. “You want to fuck him?”
My eyebrows shot up, not at all expecting that question. A pinch of irritation almost made me say yes to prove a point that it didn’t matter if I did or not. I answered to no one. Instead, I squinted my eyes and gave a noncommittal, “Maybe.” Immediately, I wanted to choke back the words. I didn’t want to fuck the bartender, and my pure stubbornness made me regrettably snobby.
I was about to take my words back when his grip tightened around my hip and jerked me into him. “I don’t fucking share, Evelyn.”
His claim flooded me with heat, warming my core. A very small part of me was irritated at the fact that I enjoyed him wanting to claim me. Lots of men had wanted me, but I never cared if I was with them more than on
ce. This feeling of warmth blooming in my chest at the territorial light in his eyes, confused me. Not knowing how to handle the new emotions, I shrugged my shoulder and muttered an ambiguous, “Okay,” and turned back to the bar just as the sexy bartender set our drinks down.
“One blow job for the sexiest girl at the bar.” He was laying it on thick and apparently had a death wish, because I could feel the anger radiating off Jameson and I wasn’t sure how the man was still standing. “If you need another blow job, my name is Andrew. Give me a holler anytime.”
He moved down the bar, but kept his eyes glued to mine when I leaned forward and licked the whip cream from the glass. Making sure I turned so Jameson could watch me, I leaned down and picked the glass up with my lips, tipping it back and swallowing the liquid in one go before setting it back down. Standing back up, I met Jameson’s heated stare. I wiped the excess liquid from my lip with my finger before sucking my finger into my mouth.
I knew Andrew was down the bar watching my show, but this was purely for Jameson. I knew I had irritated him with my flirting, and I wanted to let him know he was the one that held my attention. His hand snapped out to grip my wrist and pulled the same fingers to his mouth, dragging his tongue from my knuckle to my fingertip and sucked them into his mouth. It sent a shock from my hand, straight up my arm and down to my core.
He stepped back, pulling me with him. When we were clear of the bar, he leaned down, “Dance for me.” His command made my pussy clench. Who knew his control would turn me on so much?
I eased my way through the thin crowd, desire washing over my body with the heavy beat of the music. As I danced for Jameson, men approached me. I looked over them to see the man I wanted, the man I swiveled my hips for, even if it teased the person in front of me. Once Jameson’s eyes glinted in warning, I’d smile and send them away.