by Kylie Scott
Jimmy lifted my leg off his lap, slipping out from underneath it. "She tried to kick the door down."
Dr. Courtney's eyes cut to me.
I shrugged. "I had something I had to say to him. He wouldn't open it."
She instantly turned judgey eyes onto Jimmy. Yay for the sisterhood!
"It wasn't my fault," he said, pouting.
"I've been called to lots of lover's tiffs over the years, but this is a new one," the Doctor said.
"Oh, we're not involved," I said.
The good Doctor snorted and got busy feeling up my foot. Ever so not very carefully, she twisted and turned it, this way and that. I yowled and winced as needed. Finally, she pronounced the verdict of a sprained ankle. I declined any meds for the pain, not wanting them in the house. So, over-the-counter ibuprofen was diagnosed to stop the swelling and a highly fashionable boot thing would be arriving within the hour. At least this would get me out of jogging. Go silver lining on that grey cloud.
She informed Jimmy he'd be sent a bill and left.
"You're going to have to carry me up and down the stairs," I said, trying to keep the smile off my face. "You'll basically be my slave boy."
Jimmy sighed, handing me a glass of water so I could throw back two of the horse-sized pills. At least I seemed to have taken his mind off his mother. I would have preferred a method not involving me sustaining bodily damage, but there you go.
"I'll probably need a bell I can ring when I need you," I said.
"I don't fucking think so."
"You want me hollering through the house?"
"Seeing as you do that already, it's not like it'll be a big change" he said. "Guess you won't be leaving anytime soon. And you did it all to yourself."
I gave him a dirty look.
David wandered in and cleared his throat. "Hey. You two are obviously okay for now, so we'll all get out of your way."
"Right," said Jimmy. "Sorry about dinner ..."
"Jim." His brother chided, grabbing hold of his shoulder then pulling him in for one of those back thumping hugs. After a moment, Jimmy patted him stiffly in return a couple of times. A major move forward, frankly.
I couldn't help but smile with approval.
The two brothers spoke in muted voices for a moment and I did my best not to listen. Then David approached, laying a hand on my head in benediction or something. "Take it easy, Lena."
"Will do."
His smile was one of great warmth. "Look out for him."
"That's what I'm here for."
"I'll tell the others to catch up with you later. 'Night."
I got the distinct impression Jimmy and I were being left alone for reasons leading toward the romantic, by the youngest of the Ferris clan at least. His friends and family had perhaps gotten ideas about us. Oh well. The Stage Dive crew could think what they liked of the current status of Jimmy's and my overly complicated relationship. It was beyond my control.
On the other side of the room, Jimmy leaned against the wall, watching me through hooded eyes. "How'd Dean take you running out on him?"
"I don't know, probably not well." To be honest, I'd given it no thought, but the odds were, Dean and I were done. I lay back against Jimmy's bed, my foot propped on pillows. "Your bed's more comfortable than mine."
"Is it?"
"I'm just going to snooze here for a while." Wounded people were allowed to push their luck. Everyone knew that. "Wake me when the boot arrives, slave."
He said nothing, just watched as I made myself at home on his bed.
"This mattress is bigger than some small European countries." I dragged my coat out from underneath me. A delicate procedure that involved much wiggling. My shirt rode up and I tugged it back down over my belly. "Say something, you're making me feel awkward."
"Why would you feel awkward, Lena? Just because you're rolling around on my bed."
"You could sit back down again and talk to me." I patted the mattress beside me in a friendly, inviting manner.
"We've talked enough for one night."
But he did flick off the light, leaving the glow of the bedside lamp on its lonesome. Then he walked around to the other side of the bed and sat down. He shucked off his shoes and, good god help me, lay down upon his back. Hands folded over his flat stomach he stared at the ceiling, giving it his usual frown of discontent.
Jimmy was on the bed with me.
I swear to you, my loins actually quivered.
This was better than my birthday and Christmas rolled into one, aching ankle or no. The most beautiful man I'd ever met lying close enough to almost touch. He was outright gorgeous. Ridiculously so. His face in profile, the curves of his lips and the perfect line of his nose. I didn't have words to describe him. I didn't have anything. My heart beat double time but I could ignore it.
"Are you okay?" I asked, voice little more than a whisper.
"Better than you."
He'd said he'd talked enough. So, in my infinite wisdom, I actually let it go for once.
"You really do need mirrors on your ceiling," I said.
He cut his eyes to the side and gave me an impatient look. "Where the fuck do you come up with these ideas?"
I laughed.
"Enough." He reached out, switching off the bedside lamp. "Close your eyes and go to sleep. This day has been too damn long."
"What about the boot?"
"I'll get up when the boot comes."
"All right."
We didn't talk for a while. Then, out of nowhere, came a mumbled, "Thanks for coming home."
I searched for his free hand, grabbing hold once I found it. His fingers wrapped tight around mine I smiled in the darkness. "Any time."
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
"Oh my god, this souffle is amazing. It's like heaven in my mouth. Heaven, Jimmy, do you hear me?" I licked the last of the chocolate off my spoon then tried to find more. Stupid spoon for being empty. Better double-check just in case.
"I hear you." His gaze followed my tongue up the length of the spoon and he swallowed hard.
Huh.
The rock star in question sat across the table from me, his own breakfast long since eaten. He'd probably been up at the crack of dawn being all fit and energetic. In the basement gym, since paparazzi were lurking around outside given his mom's interview hitting the airwaves last night. A couple of security guys were out there, keeping an eye on things. So definitely no jogging for various reasons, but on account of my busted ankle I got to lie in bed anyways.
My own lesser bed sadly.
Once the boot had arrived the night before, he'd kicked me out of his room. Well, he'd helped me hobble into mine. At any rate, the end result was the same, I slept alone.
By the time I texted him to come help me down the stairs, he'd already showered and dressed in jeans and a plain black T-shirt. And now I tasted the abundant leftovers from his grand dinner party the night before. Screw cereal for breakfast, dessert was definitely the go-to. We'd be dining on leftovers for days, homemade pasta with wild mushrooms and pancetta, some exotic fish dish, and the best damn chocolate souffle with berry coulis I'd tasted in my entire life.
Best. Breakfast. Ever.
"I want to have this souffle's babies."
"Great," he said, watching me devour the innocent dessert with much zeal. The look on his face concerned me in so much as I couldn't read it. His eyes were guarded but there was something else there too, something more. An intensity I wasn't certain I could match at this hour of the morning.
"We need to talk," he said.
Where there any other words quite so dreaded in all of the human language? I didn't think I'd done anything, but still ...
"About your mom?" I asked hopefully.
"No." His eyes shuttered. "Nothing to be done about that. She's played her card and I just want to forget about her now."
Which was more than fair. "All right. What then?"
"You made up your mind whether you're going out with Dean again or
not?"
This wasn't so bad. I tapped the silver spoon against my lips, giving it some thought. Our first date had gone so well but then I had run out on him last night. Then there was the one that I forgot because I was out getting ice cream with Jimmy. Odds were, he had no interest in seeing me again.
"I think not," I said. "He's a great guy, but ... maybe under different circumstances, you know? In another life."
"Whatever. We need to talk about point five on your list. Point four isn't working out, so let's give up on you dating."
"Hmm." I set the spoon down in my disappointingly still empty dish. "There wasn't a point five on my list. There were only four, date other people, focus on your flaws, don't be pathetic, and get a life, etcetera."
"Yeah, I made up number five. That list you found was complete and utter bullshit."
"I'm beginning to come to the same conclusion."
There was something different about him. A strange sort of tension running through him. He sat forward, elbows on the table, foot tapping out a beat beneath. I could hear it, the constant noise matching the overeager rhythm of my heart. Let's pretend the sugar rush from the souffle stirred me up as opposed to the company I was keeping.
"So?" I prodded. "Are you going to tell me what this mysterious point five is?"
"We fuck."
Everything stopped.
Jimmy stared back at me, totally calm.
This couldn't be happening.
No. This wasn't right.
"Get out of here!" I laughed, sitting back in my chair. "God, you nearly had me there for a minute."
"I'm serious."
"Sure you are." I rolled my eyes, shook my head, still laughing.
"Thank about it. All dating did was depress the hell out of both of us. And if I'm being entirely honest, I'm feeling a little sexually frustrated too these days. Not to give you TMI Lena, but I haven't jerked off this much since ... ever."
I laughed.
And I laughed some more.
And then I stopped laughing because Jimmy's expression hadn't changed. Not one iota. He just sat there, sizing me up with his cool blue eyes, his mouth a straight, seemingly sincere, line.
"This is a joke," I croaked on account of my throat closing.
"No. No joke. I say we try fucking to get it out of our system."
"No joke?" But it had to be. Christ, I couldn't breathe. Air, I needed air immediately.
Jimmy pushed back his chair, the legs shrieking across the marble. He walked around the table and pulled me up, his hands beneath my arms. "Breathe, Lena. You're turning blue."
At his command my lungs kicked into high gear, filling with oxygen. Doing what they ought to. A strong hand rubbed up and down my spine, encouraging. He pushed my chair aside, the solid bulk of him standing directly behind me, warming me.
"You all right?" he asked, leaning over my shoulder.
I nodded.
He didn't move away. The hand rubbing my back didn't stop. Man, that felt nice.
"You, ah ... you kind of surprised me," I said.
"Hmm."
"You're really ... you want to ..." I couldn't say it. The words tangled, making it impossible to get them out.
"Why not? I see it as a win-win situation. I get to release some of my frustration and you get to release any lingering feelings messing with your head. We fuck, we see we don't have chemistry, we move on. Or even better, everything falls apart like it normally does and you're happy just going back to being friends. What do you say?"
To have, or not to have, sex with Jimmy. A bit of a no brainer. "Sure, why not?"
He straightened, removing himself from view. His presence though could never be doubted. The man was magnetic, his heat and hard flesh pulling me in. The way he opened himself to me and told me his secrets, the way he gave me his trust, it all drew me closer. The temptation to lean back against him was almost overwhelming. Carefully, he undid my ponytail, spilling my dark hair across my shoulders.
He twirled a strand around his finger, rubbing his thumb back and forth across it. "Like your hair."
"Thank you."
Slowly, he unwound my hair from his finger. His hand slid to the base of my spine and then went lower, over my ass, down to the edge of my red jersey dress. Never had one limb's journey been so important. Goose flesh covered my back and it wasn't from any chill.
"And I like you in red," he said, brushing his lips against the tip of my ear.
"Do you?" I was just happy I wasn't in sweats. The too-sexy-for-words medical boot, bright blue with white straps across the front, was bad enough.
"Oh, yeah." His fingers skated right up the back of my bare leg, making me shiver. "Very much."
Jimmy Ferris did not mess around.
"You want to do it r-right now?" I stuttered.
"Might as well." His other hand slid around my front, stroking beneath the bulge of my breasts. He pressed his hard body against the length of me, grinding his erection against my ass cheek, making me ache. "Not inconveniencing you, am I, Lena?"
I sucked in a breath, my mind racing. "No. Not like I had anything else planned."
"Good." A finger traced the elastic of my panties around the top of my leg, sliding beneath to trace over my hipbone. It felt so fine my stomach pretty much turned itself inside out in elation.
To have him this close, the heat of him at my back, and the soap and subtle aftershave scenting the air, was bliss. Never in my wildest dreams had I imagined this, the chance to really be with him. My skin felt hot, feverish. And my heart had started beating somewhere between my legs. God, I needed him touching me there.
"Probably safer on your back," he said.
His words drifted right over me, meaningless noise. Right up until he reached around me and pushed aside the bowl and spoon. He turned me, picked me up, and placed me on top of the table.
"Lie back," he said. The look in his eyes, the tension, it was hunger for me. Amazing. Tightly leashed but there just the same. I'd never seen such a beautiful sight in all my life.
"Lie back, Lena." His hand on my shoulder guided me down until I was flat against the hard wood.
"We're really doing this?" All I could hear was my heavy breathing. So incredibly loud. It wouldn't have surprised me if the neighbors complained about the noise levels. "Jimmy?"
In lieu of a response, he slid his hands beneath my skirt and began divesting me of my sensible comfortable black cotton panties. Worn because the possibility of getting laid by my boss on the kitchen table hadn't really crossed my mind. Yet there they went, flying over his shoulder.
"I guess we are," I said.
He pulled a chair over and sat, hot eyes on me the entire time. A muscle jumped in his jaw repeatedly. Thank god I wasn't the only one wound up about this.
I went up on one elbow, nerves buzzing in my head. "What are you doing now?"
"What people do at tables." Strong hands held my legs apart. "Eating."
My stomach dipped. "Oh, god."
His head disappeared beneath my skirt.
Jimmy Ferris seriously did not mess around.
Warm breath hit my most secret female flesh. Okay, enough fancy talk, it was my vagina. Then he dragged his tongue up the length of my lips, sending lightning streaking straight up my spine. "Holy fuck."
Beneath my dress, he hummed. The sweetest sound in all of creation.
I wriggled, trying to get closer. "Jimmy."
His mouth attached to first one lip and then the other, sucking hard. Blood rushed through my veins at the speed of light, all of it heading straight to my pussy. It'd been so long since I'd had this, and never with someone so blatantly into the act. His mouth covered me, hot and hungry. Fingers sunk into my thighs and his tongue lapped at my labia, making me moan. I don't know when my back hit the table once more. Early on would be my guess. Same went for when my eyelids slid closed on the cold white ceiling, high above my head. What Jimmy was doing took my full, undivided attention, every wet sound and fierce s
ensation driving me wild. My hips jerked, head turning this way and that. It was too much and not enough. I never wanted it to end.
The knowledge that this was him pressed all of my buttons, bringing my love and longing roaring to the surface. So much emotion, I felt ready to combust. It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him all, to offer him anything. How incredibly foolish would that be? I bit down hard, the metallic taste of blood in my mouth.
He ate me like a man deprived, starved.
He ate me like I was his favorite meal.
Vaguely related, apparently singers had excellent tongue control and strength. Bless them for that, many, many times over. In fact, the man excelled at oral beyond my wildest dreams. He worked his mouth between the lips of my sex, tongue diving deep, tasting me. Then he'd trail the tip up to my clit and tease me until I cried out. It was sublime. The muscles in my thighs drew tight. He gave me long, strong licks from just above my ass to my clit followed by sweet suckling kisses. My head spun, my senses reeling from overload. My sex had never been so spoiled.
And so it was that then, with all my elegant flailing, the chunky ass medical boot smacked him in the side of his head and we cried out together. In pain.
"Shit." He extricated himself from beneath my clothing, rubbing at his skull. "You okay?"
"Yes. You just have a really hard head."
He shook said head.
"Please don't stop." Pain didn't matter, only coming did. "Please?"
"Just a minute." Carefully, he draped my wounded leg over his shoulder. "There we go. You sure you're okay?"
"I'm fine," I said, panting.
"You sure?"
"Jimmy!"
The smirking bastard. "Okay, Lena. Don't get all over excited. Now, where was I?"
"You want me to hit you in the head again with the boot?" Desperation tightened my voice, murderous thoughts running through my brain. I was a sweaty horny mess and he needed to start taking me and my orgasm seriously. Now. "Do you? Really, Jimmy, is that what you're telling me?"
He chuckled.
And then he pushed up my skirt and got back to it, lucky for him. His ever-so-talented lips worked me up and up, to heights unheard of before. Up where the air was thin and the stars within reach. This was more than just great head. I felt so high, the rush of hot sweet emotions filling me had to be touching him too. The power of how he stirred me, driving me out of my mind was so intense.