One Last Kiss

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One Last Kiss Page 8

by Jessica Lemmon


  They were no longer married.

  If she wanted to go on a date, she could. Still, he couldn’t help saying, “I don’t like it.”

  “You don’t have to.” She patted his cheek with one hand.

  Then she was out the door, leaving him in need of a shower, a second cup of coffee and an excuse to stick around. Any good friend would make sure she returned home safely from her date.

  * * *

  Elias Hill had been perfectly nice. Perfectly casual. Perfectly polite and perfectly suited for someone like her. He liked talking business but knew when to relax. He didn’t have any dumb come-on lines and he didn’t call her “baby” or “Jee-ahh” the way Denver Pippen had.

  Elias was...well, perfect.

  He was also perfectly boring.

  By the time they’d had lunch, she was yawning behind her hand. She tried to convince herself it was because she’d stayed up late working. Because she’d had trouble sleeping knowing her ex-husband was downstairs—the man was majorly throwing off her chi. But all that line of thinking did was bring Jayson back to the forefront of her thoughts and then she’d ended up comparing him to Elias.

  Elias’s muscles beneath his white shirt looked nice enough, but he somehow lacked the roundness through the shoulders that Jayson had. His forearms were fine, but she doubted he had the strength to lift her up so she could wrap her ankles at his waist. His face was pleasant, but too clean-cut. His lips were too narrow. His hair, wavy in the breeze, was thinner than Jay’s full, thick, but short locks.

  Elias was as boring as his stale, white outfit—a literal blank slate—and his personality barely appeared. He spoke carefully and evenly, but his stories droned on, and the last one about the investors’ party meandered and looped but in the end had no point.

  He wasn’t witty. He wasn’t stubborn. He wasn’t challenging.

  He isn’t Jayson, her mind offered and she told it promptly to shut up.

  She didn’t want Jayson. That was her mantra after they docked, after she’d allowed Elias to kiss her cheek and as she drove home. So intent on making that her new truth, she decided that working side by side with Jayson was probably a bad idea. Bet or no bet, she needed to put some distance between them.

  When she stepped into the kitchen of her house and looked out the window, instead of finding peace in being alone she found Jayson Cooper in her pool.

  He was naked save for a pair of board shorts, and floating on a yellow raft shaped like a lemon slice. He should have looked ridiculous, especially wearing a pair of pink sunglasses that belonged to her, but he didn’t.

  He looked damned tempting with a solid tan and a five o’clock shadow darkening his jaw. He was cradling a can of sparkling water in one hand, his head leaning back, showcasing the column of his strong neck. Beads of water danced along his body, glistening in the waning sun.

  Her mouth watered.

  How dare her body react to him? He ruined everything—including her date. If not for sleeping with Jayson so recently, she might have found Elias Hill perfectly pleasant.

  Perfect. Yuck.

  She replayed that dumb story about the family dog he’d told her and cringed. How was it that a billionaire yacht CEO wasn’t more interesting?

  “What the hell are you doing here?” she growled, tossing her beach bag onto an empty lounger. She was still wearing her new bikini beneath her shorts and top and had been planning on coming home and swimming off her frustration.

  “You’re back. Didn’t expect you for a while.” He finished off his water and crunched the can with one hand before tossing it to the side of the pool. “I was going to leave, but I was caught up in working and decided to take a dip. I was planning to be gone by the time you came home.”

  “Sure you were.” But him being here didn’t piss her off as much as she wanted it to.

  Especially when concern leaked into his tone when he asked, “Didn’t go well?”

  She crossed her arms and shrugged.

  A frown bisected his eyebrows. “What the hell did that bastard do?”

  She dropped her arms. “Nothing. I’m not mad about my date. I’m mad because you’re here and I want to swim.”

  “I have to leave so you can swim?” When he said it out loud it did sound silly.

  “Whatever. It’s hot and I’m frustrated and I’m coming in.”

  Hands in her hair, she pulled her waves into a ponytail and stripped out of her clothes. She was aware of Jayson watching her from behind those pink sunglasses. Especially since this bikini was gorgeous. The hot pink suit covered what it needed to, but the peekaboo mesh at the neckline hinted at what she was hiding.

  She stepped to the zero-entry side and started down the ramp, the warm water lapping at her ankles, then calves, then knees. She commented about how the water was colder than she’d expected and he grinned.

  “Don’t.” She warned, sealing her fate.

  He was off the raft in a shot, tossing the sunglasses to the side of the pool and then...he was gone.

  “I just washed my hair!” she shouted as he cut through the water. Before she could turn to walk up the ramp, he’d surfaced and scooped her into his arms like Swamp Thing.

  “You know better than to tell me the water’s cold, G,” he said, his eyelids lowering ominously.

  She kicked her legs uselessly and wiggled in his grip. “I take it back!” she said through breathless laughter.

  “You can’t take it back.” He laid a hard kiss on her mouth and walked her toward the deep end. Before she could beg him not to throw her in, he’d already tossed her into the air.

  Fourteen

  What was more fun? Kissing and then throwing Gia into the deep end or watching her try and catch him while he swam left then right in a zigzag?

  Kissing her, definitely. With or without the throwing. Though throwing her in had been fun, and something he’d done time and time again after they’d bought this house.

  “Dammit, Jay!” she sputtered after she surfaced.

  “You know better than to step into the water with me. You’ll end up wet.” Letting the double entendre hang, he gave her a wicked smile and added, “In or out of the water.”

  “You’re an ass.” She launched herself at him but this time he didn’t move, catching her instead. He wrapped her legs around his waist and walked her into deeper water.

  “I have a very nice ass. Or so I’ve been told.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Is that what Natasha told you?”

  “Natasha didn’t think of anyone but herself most of the time. Care to share about Elias?”

  She pouted, but didn’t move to escape his grip. “No comment.”

  “Were you trying to make me jealous by going on a date?”

  “I was trying to take my mind off of you!” She jerked her gaze away like she hadn’t meant to admit that.

  “Oh, really.” He gave her a squeeze. “Did it work?”

  She tightened her arms around his neck. In this position every one of her curves lined up with his body perfectly. What he wouldn’t give to have a taste of her mouth, or feel her ride him, those thighs locked tight...

  “I’m not seeing Elias again.”

  That was evasive, but some damn good news.

  “Why’d you go out with him in the first place?”

  “Because sleeping with you is a really, really bad idea.”

  “Ouch.” That hurt.

  The divorce had been hard on both of them—he knew that. But he’d also figured out that they hadn’t had their fill of each other yet. A marriage was more than attraction, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t have fun together while in each other’s immediate proximity.

  “You already slept with me.”

  She sighed. “I know. I don’t think we should do it again.”

  He felt the corners
of his mouth pull down. “Why the hell not?”

  “How’s this going to work, Jay? We give in to our physical attraction, and then what? Walk away?”

  That was the gist. But she sounded as wounded as he felt at the idea.

  “What’s the alternative? You’ve made it clear you don’t want me in your space permanently.”

  “That’s not fair.”

  “No, but it’s true.”

  She quirked her lips, and he guessed it was because he’d made a good point.

  “We tried to repair our marriage and work together. We failed. I’m not sure much has changed since then.”

  They were the same people, he couldn’t argue that. “Yes, but we know what it costs to be together. We know better than make the same mistakes we made before. That has to count for something.”

  She watched him and he watched her. The water lapped against his waist and her thighs, which were still cradled in his hands.

  “Gia. If you don’t want—”

  She kissed him and cut off the offer he hadn’t wanted to make. He’d been about to reassure her that if she didn’t want to sleep with him, she didn’t have to—bet or no bet.

  Turned out she put his tongue to better use. Her mouth moved on his. Softly. Slowly. This was nothing like the day in her parents’ vacation house kitchen—or the bathroom interlude that followed. They explored each other carefully, like neither of them wanted to spook the other away.

  Her hand vanished into the water and next he felt her tender grip on his erection.

  He grunted, hardly able to breathe now that she was handling him with long, even strokes. She smoothed her lips over his open mouth, tempting him, turning him on so much his brain wasn’t operating at full capacity.

  But he couldn’t keep from replaying her words—and the wave of regret they’d arrived on.

  He ended the kiss and looked his ex-wife in the eyes. “I don’t want to fail with you again, G.”

  Damn. That was honest. More honest than he’d meant to be.

  She released him, untwined her legs from his hips and swam for the ladder. He thought that was it, that she’d changed her mind and, hell, maybe that was for the better. For them to cut their losses and let go of the idea of them altogether.

  But then she turned and looked over her shoulder before climbing out and said, “Well. Come on.”

  He followed obediently, his eyes feasting on the vision of his ex-wife climbing the ladder. She pulled herself from the water, her long, soaking hair arrowing down her back, a trickle of water flowing over her tanned skin. Her plush bottom in that hot pink bikini. God, he could take a bite out of her—she looked that damn delicious.

  Even if this was a bad idea, he wasn’t as future focused as Gia. He didn’t give a damn what happened in a day or a week or a month from now. Whenever he was with her physically, the world was suddenly right. Everything made sense for the time they were together and that was enough for him.

  She toweled off and he did the same, quickly. Unlike his apartment where everyone could see everyone, they didn’t have to worry about privacy in this backyard.

  The house was in a neighborhood but not the tightly packed suburbia that he’d grown up in. Here, the houses were spaced out enough that no one could peer over at them from an upstairs window. That fact, and the tall white privacy fence around the entire backyard, was probably why Gia let him take off her bikini top.

  He released her gorgeous breasts into his hands, stroking the chilled buds. The sun was receding fast, the cooler air blowing in, but he didn’t want to suggest they go inside. He was afraid she’d have second thoughts. They had momentum, and if they lost it, they might never find it again.

  She shivered as she slipped her bikini bottoms off her legs. He followed suit, kicking off his shorts in record time. Then he stared.

  He loved Gia’s body. He always had. And now he was going to love her body from head to toe—for as long as she could stand it.

  She’d always loved foreplay and he’d been more than willing to take his time with her. They hadn’t had the chance for foreplay the last time they were together. He intended on remedying that.

  He backed her to the rattan chaise lounger and laid her down. “Are you—”

  She hushed him with her finger against his lips. Clearly she didn’t want to give herself a chance to have second thoughts either. She ran that same finger down his chest, belly button and lower as she sat on the lounger.

  When she navigated his favorite part of his body into her mouth, whatever thoughts had been bouncing around in his head vanished. There was only the feel of her heated mouth suctioned onto him.

  He rested his hand on the back of her head while she worked, admiring her grace and beauty while she took him on her tongue. She was the best. He hadn’t been a saint while they were divorced, so he knew of what he spoke.

  Gia blew his mind. Thoroughly. She didn’t try to impress him; she simply enjoyed herself. Pleased with herself for pleasing him. So focused on him, she must not have noticed when he gently cupped her jaw to stop her. She took him to the hilt again, one long, slick slide that had him welding his molars together.

  He forced himself from her mouth, bending at the waist while he waited for the spots to clear from his vision. He wanted to finish inside her tonight.

  She peered up at him, eyes wide. When she licked the corner of her mouth, he worried he might come right then. He was a grown man, in charge of his faculties most of the time, but this was his weak point.

  She was his weak point. His ultimate Achilles heel.

  He was starting to see what she meant about this being a bad idea, but damned if he’d stop now. He tossed his beach towel on the concrete and lowered to his own knees in front of the lounger.

  Pushing her shoulders, he encouraged her to lie back. He didn’t have to convince her much. Propped up, arms draped over her head, she was a goddess. The purple-pink sky intensified the surreal moment, the water droplets still clinging to her skin sparkling in the fading light.

  He bent and licked a drop off her nipple, then the side of her breast. He repeated the action on the other side, not wanting to give one breast an unfair amount of attention. Then he ran his tongue down her middle to her belly button while her hands sank into his hair and gave a little tug.

  “Someone’s excited,” he murmured against her damp flesh.

  “It’s been a while,” she breathed.

  He liked hearing that way too much.

  “I’ll be down here awhile to make up for it.”

  Promise made, he tugged her so she was flat on her back, and then rested her knees on his shoulders. Her open before him was a gift. She trusted him with her pleasure. It hadn’t been enough to save their marriage, but he was proud she was willing to give herself to him.

  He kissed the insides of her knees and worked higher and higher up her thigh. Her breaths tightened, and he drank in her anticipation. It gave him strength to know that she needed this—not only the orgasm, but an orgasm that only he could deliver.

  Wedging a space for his shoulders, he dipped his head and tasted her, dragging his tongue in one slow line.

  She shivered.

  He did it again, this time flattening his tongue.

  She shuddered.

  With a proud smile to himself, he renewed his efforts and dove in, this time not letting up until her cries of completion were echoing across the nighttime sky.

  Fifteen

  Julia and Albert Robinson’s patio was a work of art. The built-in stone grill sat in the center, the matching tiled bar top wrapping around each side. It took up at least half the space available, the other half filled with an oversize square outdoor dining table and eight chairs. Overkill for their modest house, but his mom wouldn’t let Jayson buy her a house. He had to be happy with what they’d accept—in this case a brand new
back patio design for her for a Mother’s Day gift. Next year he’d talk her into an in-ground pool.

  His mother deserved to be spoiled, though he would admit his stepdad did a good job of spoiling her in all the ways he could. Albert had padded their retirement fund, made sure she felt safe and loved. But Albert couldn’t afford the extras that Jayson could provide. Jay made a hell of a lot of money and without a family of his own to support, figured he could afford to spoil them.

  The glass patio door slid open and Chester, Mason’s husband, stepped outside with a tray of burgers and brats, the vegetarian versions for himself. “Mas, hon, bring me a beer,” he called over his shoulder.

  “Can I help?” Jayson held out a hand.

  “Yes, occupy your brother so he doesn’t get in my way,” Chester said with a good-natured eye roll.

  While Chester and Albert decided what grill arrangement was optimum for the burgers and brats, being careful not to “contaminate” Chester’s veggie fare, Mason and Jayson sat at the far side of the newly built bar. Their mother was inside finishing up her famous deviled potato salad.

  “I like this dining set,” Mason said before sipping his beer.

  “Glad they let me do it.”

  “You’re a good son. If you’re trying to win, you’ve done it.”

  Jayson knew his brother was kidding. Mason was driven, ambitious—one didn’t accidentally become a standout photographer in the fashion industry—but he was also laid-back. When the topic of conversation rounded to Natasha, Jayson shook his head.

  “I should have warned you,” Mason said. “She’s a diva. Gorgeous, but a diva.”

  “Gia’s prettier,” Jayson muttered.

  Mason’s silence was deafening. He smirked. “What is going on?”

  “Nothing’s going on. It was just an observation.” Jay took a swig of his own beer.

  “I noticed you were in a better mood than usual and I couldn’t figure out why. Now I know. Sex with the ex.”

 

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