Four Letter Feelings (The Jeremy Lewis Series Book 1)

by Lasairiona McMaster

  “You’re not used to being propositioned like this, are you?”

  “No. I’m not. And… eh, not to sound insensitive, or insulting, but—”

  “I’m not a hooker!” she exclaimed, face-palming. “I won’t charge you or anything!” She laughed, but not awkwardly. Her confidence and genuineness were certainly appealing to Jeremy, she seemed to be more self-aware than anyone he’d ever met. “I just really like sex with people I find attractive.”

  As do I.

  “I have a high sex drive.”

  Ditto.

  “I like variety and I don’t like being tied to one sexual partner.”

  Girl, you are speaking my love language right now!

  “Don’t get me wrong, that doesn’t mean I’m out whoring myself or anything. But, for the record, if I was it wouldn’t be any of your business.” She eyed him as though she expected him to challenge her. “Anyway, I like sex, I want sex and if you’re game…” She poked his chest playfully. “I want sex with you.”

  Legit can’t believe my luck right now. Did I hit my head on the bar? How is this actually my life?

  It felt quite surreal. He’d never before met a woman who could walk right up to him and tell him she wanted to take him to bed – at least not right away, or in as frank a manner as Jessica had just done. He found it refreshing. Two grown adults coming together with a shared desire and no expectation of anything more than what it was: just sex.

  Setting their expectations early meant that neither of them would get hurt, and that was certainly appealing to Jeremy, as there was little he enjoyed less than letting down a woman who got too attached when he didn’t feel the same way.

  “Ok, starting to get a complex here, playboy. If you aren’t interested I—”

  He covered her lips with his finger and replaced his finger with his lips, kissing her hungrily.

  “Get a room,” the bartender mumbled.

  “I intend to,” Jessica answered with a grin.

  Jeremy led her out of the bar and walked by her side with his arm draped loosely around her shoulder. As they walked in the muggy night they talked as though they were old friends, she told him she was studying dance and her German Shepherd, Alfie, was her best friend. He told her he loved breakfast food and played hockey. Despite the getting-to-know-you small talk, the air between them was charged with lust and desire and they stopped more than once to make out.

  “I need to get you home,” he choked, his voice gravelly with need and want. “Or I’m going to take you right here on this wall.”

  “Promises, promises, Jeremy Lewis,” she teased, as she trailed her tongue across his lower lip and along his jaw, pinching his earlobe between her teeth and giggling.

  “Jesus,” he breathed.

  “First a mermaid… then Jesus… You do remember my name, right?”

  Jeremy moaned and tilted his head away from her as her tongue continued its journey along the side of his neck. “I said,” she breathed her words lightly against his skin sending a shiver down his spine. “Do you remember my name?” She nipped at the spot on his neck, not quite the neck, not quite the shoulder, Jeremy bit down on his tongue to stop from exclaiming loudly and began his own assault on her neck.

  “Yes.” He answered between kisses. “I do.”

  He kissed again.

  “Jessica,” he emphasized, kissing again and returning the favor with a tiny nip at the same sensitive spot at the base of her neck. He was rewarded with a throaty moan as his already raging hard-on strained against his pants.

  “Fuck.”

  He glanced down the street and realized they were only a few doors away from his place. He knew AJ wasn’t home so as he kissed her deeply, he picked her up, wrapped her legs around his waist and held her in place, as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

  He carried her to his door, bumping her against it more forcefully than intended, but she didn’t protest, in fact, it seemed to spur her on even more. This woman was driving him crazy. He felt feral and was struggling to maintain his composure outside on the street. He wanted, no, needed her naked and underneath him so he could explore every inch of her and worship her for the magical goddess she clearly was. She was intoxicating. He fumbled with the keys, swearing as he missed the keyhole multiple times before the key finally slid into the lock and the door gave way.

  “I hope you’re better with your own equipment than you are with that key,” she joked against his neck as he stepped inside.

  “I guess you’ll find out.”

  He slid his hand along the length of her left knee-high boot, underneath her calf-length skirt and tugged the zip open. When both her boots had dropped onto the floor his hand moved higher up her leg under her skirt. He kept her pinned against the wall just inside the front door, the moonlight and ambient light from the street shone through the window and onto her face as she leaned her head back as though inviting him to do with her as he willed. As he slid his hand up her thighs, he quickly realized she wasn’t wearing any underwear. Murmuring his approval, he held her in place whilst opening the zipper on his jeans.

  “Well, if I’d known you weren’t wearing underwear, Jessica, I’d have taken you on that wall around the corner after all.” He kissed her again. “I have protection—” he mumbled between kisses, reaching into his back pocket.

  “You don’t need it,” she answered, guiding his kisses to her neck. “I mean, you can if you want, but I have an implant, so I’m not really scared of getting pregnant.” She grabbed his head and stopped him kissing her for a moment, causing him to look at her. “But if you sleep around a lot and there’s a chance you might have… something,” she continued with a raised eyebrow. “Then I definitely want you to use it.”

  He chuckled and shook his head. “I’m clean, no STDs or STIs here. You?”

  “Also, clean. Though you thought I was a hooker, so you should really use your best judgement.”

  Her nails dug into his shoulders as he found his mark.

  “Would you look at that,” she purred into his ear as he pushed her firmly against the wall. “I guess it doesn’t take you multiple attempts to get it in after all.”

  Chapter 17

  The next morning, Jeremy woke up before the sun. He’d expected to have a hangover and need to sleep it off, but the night had taken an unexpectedly different course and he woke up feeling energized and refreshed – a good romp in the sheets usually left him feeling that way. Feeling recharged and clear minded, he started the washing machine, got dressed in sweats and a fitted t-shirt and stepped outside to go for a run, leaving Jessica asleep in his bed. He wouldn’t usually leave a woman he just met alone in the house without him around, but as he and AJ had just moved in, there wasn’t anything of value lying around for her to steal if she did happen to be untrustworthy after all. She just looked so beautiful as she slept that Jeremy couldn’t bring himself to wake her, and, weighing the options, he figured if she wanted to steal from him, she’d already had ample opportunity.

  He ran for miles, his feet slapping against the pavement with every step and his breathing getting heavier as he ran. When he got back home, he peeked into his room as he mopped his sweat with a towel. Seeing that she was still sleeping, he decided to make his famous cinnamon rolls for her for breakfast. By famous he meant within his immediate family, and by his, he meant his mom’s. She made the best cinnamon rolls and he hadn’t made them since before he went to Europe. Once he’d kneaded the dough, it needed an hour to prove, so, leaving it covered and in the laundry room, he moved the laundry from the washer to the dryer and switched it on. He smiled to himself at his creativity in the face of not having a fancy proving drawer like his mom did and decided to tell her about it right then. Despite the fact that he’d be seeing her later that night, he knew she’d be tickled by it.

  Jeremy: Guess what?

  Mom: Oh Jer, please don’t tell me you can’t come. I’ve been so looking forward to having you home for the holiday!


  Jeremy: Eh, nope. Still coming. Why would I not be coming?

  Mom: Oh, ok. Great! What am I guessing, then?

  Jeremy: Mom, why would I not be coming?

  Mom: I don’t know, Jeremy. You’re flighty these days. Maybe you decided to stay in Alabama, I don’t know. It was just a knee-jerk reaction.

  Flighty? I’m not flighty. I think I’ve settled in quite nicely since I got back from Europe. Maybe she’s just scared I’m going to leave again?

  Jeremy: Well, keep your pants on, Mom. I’m still coming home for Christmas. I’m making your cinnamon rolls this morning – and doing laundry at the same time. The dryer is on for the added heat.

  Mom: Would you look at you! That’s a very inventive solution. And you’re doing laundry? Did you knead the dough like I showed you?

  Jeremy: Yes, Mom. I’ve been making them for years, you know? Also, no, no laundry, just a hot tumble dryer.

  Mom: Oh lord. Wait… I thought AJ already went home… you’re making cinnamon rolls just for you?

  Mom: Jeremy Lewis do you have a girlfriend?

  Mom: ARE YOU MAKING MY CINNAMON ROLLS FOR YOUR GIRLFRIEND, JEREMY?

  Jeremy groaned aloud.

  Great. Shouty capitals. For someone so intent on me getting a good education you sure as hell love the idea of me finding a woman and settling down!

  Not even close, Mom.

  Jeremy: No, Mom. No girlfriend, no grandbabies, no white picket fence. Not yet, anyway. I’m making a double batch and dropping some off when I call around to Blake’s house with Christmas presents.

  Mom: You got them presents! So thoughtful, that’s my boy.

  Jeremy: Actually, I just made that up. I was going to eat the entire double batch but don’t want to make myself sick.

  Mom: LOL! Death by cinnamon roll, what a way to go. Travel safely, darling, see you soon xx

  He smiled and shook his head. Truth be told, he was excited to spend Christmas with his parents. Christmas in Europe the previous year had been cold – for Europe – and wet. So, much, rain. He’d spent Christmas with the North American members of the hockey league he was playing in, but it just wasn’t the same. He was looking forward to his mom’s cooking, his dad dragging his ass out in the cold to grab fire wood and the Christmas Eve carol service at their local church. He loved Christmas. He loved the food, the smells, and the music, but mostly he just loved the season of giving. For as long as he could remember, his mom had volunteered in a soup kitchen for a few hours every week. No matter how busy she got with work, or whether she was in Canada or the United States. In the weeks leading up to Christmas, she made it a point to volunteer more. She’d deliver food to their elderly neighbors, run errands for those who couldn’t do it themselves and her weekly shift in the soup kitchen ramped up to two or three shifts, as well. He’d always been so proud of his parents. Despite the fact they were wealthy, he knew they’d also worked incredibly hard to get there. He also knew they gave a lot of what they earned back to people who were less fortunate than themselves. When Jeremy turned fifteen, he asked if he could go with her during the Christmas week shifts to help out and he’d done it every year since. Every year except last year. He was looking forward to seeing everyone at the shelter again and feeling like he was doing even a small part to help people who were in a much worse position than he was.

  “Oh god, you’re a morning person.”

  He’d forgotten there was someone else in the house with him, so hearing Jessica’s voice made him jump and drop the bottle of cinnamon he was holding.

  “Shit!” He spun around to face her.

  “Sorry!” she giggled. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  She was wearing one of his shirts and her hair was in one of those top-knot-things he’d seen women do with their hair when they couldn’t be bothered doing anything else with it. His mom did it when she didn’t want to wash her hair, but, standing in front of him, this woman looked anything but casual. The light streamed in through the kitchen window and landed on her pale skin, she looked radiant.

  “Wow,” he breathed, struggling to find words as all of his blood seemed to rush to his penis.

  “Oh come on!” She dismissed him with a wave of her hand and walked towards him. “What? You’ve never seen a woman first thing in the morning, before?” she joked, as she reached around him to grab the coffee pot from its stand. “Do they all leave in the middle of the night?” She almost sounded horrified. Jeremy smirked. “Why would they leave in the middle of the night? I want epic morning sex, damnit, so if you were expecting me to sneak out on you, I—”

  He reached out and covered her lips with his finger. “No. They don’t leave. You said it yourself, epic, do you really think they’d leave this?” he paused and gestured down toward the bulge in his pants.

  She fake-dreamy-sighed and fanned herself with her hand.

  “Of course they’d never leave that,” she agreed with a gentle, playful squeeze. “Mugs?”

  He pointed to the cupboard behind her head.

  “Thanks. You’re travelling today, right? Do you have any food up in this place, or did you already do the pre-plane-purge?” she paused. “What?” She gave a lopsided grin and tilted her head. “I can’t help it, I like alliteration.”

  “Nothing,” he answered, returning her grin. “You’re just… beautiful.” He reached up and gently tugged on her hair tie, releasing her unruly, auburn waves. Pushing them out of her eyes he tucked a stray curl behind her ear.

  “Careful, playboy. You can’t get attached, remember? Friends with benefits, not friends with feels. You dig?”

  He sighed. “I know. God knows the sex is pretty great, just think of how adorable our babies could be, though.” He grinned at her as she took a sip of her steaming coffee and started to cough.

  “Ok, first of all, not every woman wants babies. I am one of the ones who do not. And secondly, if you ever refer to a happy-ever-after moment like that again, this,” she paused and waved a finger between the two of them, “is done. Capeesh?”

  Jeremy nodded and poured himself a cup of coffee. “Capeesh. Sheesh. I was just kidding. What is your damage?” He eyed her suspiciously as she gave a quick shake of her head to indicate she wasn’t going to talk about it. “Ok, so, what? I call you when I’m feeling frisky, or what?” He wanted to more clearly define whatever agreement they were making.

  She laughed loudly. “You’re kidding, right? I’ve already learned that my phone would be non-stop busy if that was the criteria. I call you when I’m horny and feeling like Jeremy du jour.”

  “Wow. I’ve never been someone’s booty call before.”

  “Do you feel emasculated, Jeremy?” she asked, placing her mug on the counter next to him and grabbing his sticky-with-sweat shirt by the collar and tugging him towards her.

  “Actually, no. You’d think so, right? But I actually feel pretty fucking fly right now. A beautiful woman wants me to be her fuck buddy and satisfy her on command. That’s hot as hell.”

  He kissed her briefly on the lips. “I do need to go shower, though. I’m all sweaty from my run. Then I’ll make breakfast.”

  “What’s for breakfast?” she asked.

  He kissed her neck and lowered himself to the floor, tugging the shirt up over her hips. “You are.”

  Chapter 18

  “You’re insatiable,” she sighed, plopping onto one of the chairs at the dining table, with a fresh mug of steaming coffee in her hand.

  “Are you complaining?” he asked.

  “What? No. You definitely have adequate skills in the bedroom, and you’re selfless – which I’m not used to from men – but you sure are… hungry.” She grinned at him and ran her tongue across her full, bottom lip.

  “Adequate? Woman, you wound me!” he exclaimed, feeling exasperated by this woman who clearly enjoyed toying with him far too much.

  “For real though, what’s for breakfast? All that sex… I’ve definitely worked up an appetite.” She’d joined him i
n the bathroom for a shower, and they’d made it as far as his bed before they had to have each other again. On the way down the stairs she’d groped his ass and purred in his ear about how she hadn’t had her fill yet, so their third time was in the hall behind the front door at the bottom of the stairs. After the night before, he didn’t need any more convincing that they were compatible in bed, but she’d certainly reaffirmed it that morning.

  He walked to the laundry room to retrieve the dough and turned it out onto the counter to knead it before rolling.

  “You bake?”

  He grinned at her surprise.

  “Yeah, I’m adequate in the kitchen as well.”

  Her laugh was contagious.

  “Cinnamon rolls, though I think the dough might be somewhat over-proved, what with all the sex and all. But it’ll have to do, I don’t have time for a do-over.”

  “Not even while the rolls cook?” She pursed her lips to the side and her eyes sparkled with suggestion.

  “And I’m the insatiable one.” He shook his head in disbelief as he rolled the dough.

  She sat in silence as he worked, spreading the softened butter over the long rectangle of dough and sprinkling cinnamon sugar over the top of it before rolling into a thick, long, tight cylinder.

  “That’s a lot of sugar,” she remarked.

  “Are you watching me bake?” he asked over his shoulder.

  “I’m mostly watching your ass and sometimes your shoulders, but sure, we can go with watching you bake.”

  He chuckled.

  “You work out a lot, don’t you?” she asked, though there was no trace of judgement in her voice. It was a statement, not a judgement. She danced, he figured she’d get it.

  “Yes ma’am, I do. Hockey,” he answered over his shoulder, as though that were all the explanation she needed.

  “Of course, you’re a jock.”

  Jeremy could practically hear her eyes rolling in her head.

  “You want cinnamon rolls or not?” he asked coyly, as he finished slicing the rolls and put them in the pre-heated oven.