Always With You

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Always With You Page 3

by E. H. Lyon


  Jess looks away. "I really didn't want it like this," she reiterates, and now I am sure she may just cry, which isn’t her style.

  There’s a pause, but like an instinct of nature and without thought, I touch her shoulder and pull her to me. Her head buries into my chest. My arms finding their way around her sides for an embrace. And with our history, these moments sometimes happen.

  I want to be so angry, but in this moment I realize she has a lot in her head too.

  I went away to handle that one issue my father left behind and traveled into jungles, living the good life. She has been busy raising our child.

  Our child.

  It sinks into my mind and floats around my chest.

  “Tomorrow, Leo, okay?”

  I want to fight her on it, but maybe she’s right. I need to digest this all in and maybe get a stiff drink.

  "Okay. But, Jess, I will be back first thing in the morning. I mean it. This conversation isn't over." It comes out maybe a little too strongly, but she needs to know that I am serious about all of this.

  Her hands touch my chest ever so gently. Just enough for my dick to perk up.

  “Fine, Leo, but we do this as co-parents who can be friends, it’s the easiest way, the only way. I have thought about it and it’s for the best.”

  Our eyes find one another and settle. My hands touch hers on my chest and I have a compelling urge to pull her closer. Her lips part and I want to capture them with my own.

  Jess is the mother of my child. This is crazy; This is a surprise; This sends warmth deep within me and I probably know why. Maybe because there was always a glimmer of something with her, even when our occasions together had no words or she pretended to hate me.

  At some point in our silent moment, I snap and decide. I will approach the situation like I would with any other situation where there is something I want.

  I will be determined. So fucking determined.

  But for now, I do the next best thing. My raspy voice turns on as the back of my hand strokes her cheek. “I guess I’ve been gone too long. You must have forgotten that I like to negotiate, and something tells me that we may be negotiating on that.”

  It leaves her speechless and I remove her hands from my chest before I head out.

  Because in my book, there is no way that one night was our last night.

  Chapter Four

  Leo

  THAT NIGHT

  “I believe I owe you a drink, so what are we having?”

  My intentions for asking Jess for a drink are shaky. I do owe her a massive thank-you for finalizing the deal, as selling my mother’s house was something I wanted done before I leave. But I could have just had my assistant send something as a thank-you.

  No. The need to share a drink with Jess alone was too alluring. She agreed to meet me at 8pm and here we are at Matchbox.

  “You do owe me a drink,” she confirms slowly and satisfied. “Tequila, straight. It’s easy, hard, and over within seconds.” A wicked smile is thrown across her face.

  Ah, there it is. That fire in her.

  “Easy, hard, and fast? Sounds like something else we could do,” I retort.

  She looks at me with skepticism. “Within seconds? That would be a disappointing performance. But I guess that is right up your alley.”

  I shake my head in amusement.

  She downs a shot of tequila that seemed to magically appear and slams the glass down, her dark nails around the glass and the strap of her black top falling off her shoulder. “All done. Well, that was a great drink. Thanks,” she chirps and hops up from the bar stool to leave, but I stop her so she can’t walk away by gently grabbing her arm.

  "Whoa. Maybe slow it down? We can actually have a drink. If it makes you happy. I have also had a shitty day.”

  "Why? Hard day on daddy's payroll?" she snipes and eases her posture in her seat and indicates to the barman for a drink, the same as me.

  "Yeah, something like that," I drink from my glass of whiskey, perhaps more than I should. "So, why do you seem like you’re having a bad day?”

  "I’m spending it with you.” She points at me.

  I cock my head to the side. "Really? Because I am positive I get the award for Prince Charming for some lucky ladies, just ask my fan club."

  She shakes her head in utter annoyance.

  "Why were you so irritated earlier?" she asks.

  I rub my upper lip with my thumb. What the hell, in the spirit of honesty. "Fathers are assholes. Let's leave it at that." I down the contents in my glass.

  She looks at me and investigates me with her eyes. Jess knows enough about me to understand that there’s a story there. She probably picked up on that during the house sale. I debate if I should continue, but I don’t get into it.

  “If you want to ta—,” she tries to offer, but I stop her by putting my hand up. That’s the funny thing about this woman. She acts like she hates me, but with a turn of the switch she can show moments like she actually cares. A friend.

  “It’s okay. I need to figure it out on my own.”

  She nods in agreement to not ask more questions.

  I hold my glass out to her for a toast and her eyes sparkle as she stares at me and brings her glass to mine.

  “Thanks for closing the deal, Ms. Hale.”

  She gives me a half-smile as our eyes hold and glasses clink.

  I decide to take the opportunity to change our course of conversation. “So, why are you alone on a Friday night, Jess? Didn’t it work out with Clint or Clive?” It makes the corner of my mouth slant into a grin. I caught her on a date the other night and she didn’t even remember his name, and instead I reminded her she knew where I lived in case she got bored…in front of Clint or Clive.

  She nearly snorts, “That was one date, Leo.” She sighs. “I didn’t feel a rush in my body when he looked at me.” She locks her eyes with mine. Because our gaze has a tendency to meet like this quite frequently.

  I feel like just maybe that what she was missing with him is something she sees in me. I feel it in my bones that she is insinuating something.

  “No excitement,” she adds in a raspy voice.

  The back of my hand grazes her cheek. “Jessica wants excitement,” I repeat in a whisper. Her mouth giving me a sensual look, it can’t be my imagination.

  “There needs to be electricity,” she continues.

  “Right… that electricity factor.” I contemplate the thoughts in my head. Right now, the voltage is going a little high.

  "You always keep me on my toes, Jess,” I add, placing my hand on the back of her chair.

  “On your toes? Well, if it is any consolation, you coming into my office all the time with your arrogant smug grin and suit drives me crazy. I guess it isn’t a bad thing. Keeps my blood boiling.” As she finishes the sentence, she realizes she may have just admitted too much to me and looks at me like she let a secret slip. Jess leans back in her chair.

  A grin of victory takes over the corner of my mouth.

  “Seeing me in my suit makes your blood boil?” My eyes squint and I look at her with my head slightly tilted as if I’m inspecting her admission, and she can probably see my satisfaction.

  The back of my fingers gently touches her arm as I bring my hand back to my glass. Sometimes you just need to tease a little, and I have no problem initiating. I definitely felt a shudder under her skin. I know now that I have her where I may have wanted her more times than I can count.

  “I don’t think our attraction is the problem, Leo. Just because there is a spark doesn’t mean you need to light it. I am just not in the market for someone who messed with my work and also goes through women like they are cups of coffee,” she admits as she plays with the cardboard drink coaster.

  It was one time I messed with her work, but I had a good reason. And everyone can change, even me.

  “Yet I have slowed down my coffee intake recently,” I smirk. Her eyebrows arch with doubt. “By the sounds of it so have you.�


  She quickly tries to change the subject. “Well, look at us then. Two behaved souls on a Friday night.”

  I swerve my stool, so I am looking at her full-on. “Behaving? Are we?” My eyes narrow in on her as I say it with curiosity and determination. I am daring her.

  She likes the playfulness as she gives me an inviting grin. She has no idea how seductive that grin is. Or maybe she does, because Jess is smart and knows how to wrap people around her finger. She holds her glass out to mine and our glasses clink to cheers. I guess to celebrating being on good behavior, but something tells me that’s not going to be for long.

  “This stuff is good. Mmmm. I’ve never heard of this make of whiskey. It’s solid. Gives a nice buzz, but I’m not drunk.”

  “It’s specially made for Matchbox. It’s smoother than most whiskeys, a softer burn in the throat. I have a stockpile back at my place.” It comes off casually and she looks taken aback.

  “Let me guess, you own stock?” she jokes.

  I scratch the back of my head. “Something like that.” Her face doesn’t change so I go on, because I trust her. “I’m Nate’s silent investor,” I say and point to myself and she lets out an ahh. Jess doesn’t care about these things. Actually, I realize that I don’t really share that detail with anyone.

  “Well then, silent investor. Your secret is safe with me.” She tilts her glass to me. “By the way, you have an admirer over there.” She tilts her head to across the bar.

  I don’t even look. “And? I’m here with you.”

  A smirk forms on Jess’s face and maybe the whiskey is giving her more of a buzz than she lets on, but she gets up from her chair and encourages my legs to part so she can step between my knees. I eye her up and down because I am not complaining. When she grabs my hand to place on her face. I know what she’s doing and I am all game.

  "Let’s just pretend we’re whispering sweet nothings, and instead we can talk about what’s on your latest playlist. Yet, the blond doesn't need to know that. Far as she is concerned, I am telling you something to make it the greatest night of your life," she whispers, and I can see she is indeed in a playful mood.

  I whisper, "Okay. Hootie and the Blowfish and Third Eye Blind."

  She looks across the room and then back. She places her hand over mine that is resting on her face and leans in close again. I smell her hair and her soft skin feels decadent. Not going to lie, it does something to me. She moves in with her lips barely touching the skin around my neck and ear, yet my skin feels like it is melting.

  "A little 90's throwback. Nice.” Jess looks over to the corner. “I think you’re safe now." Jess begins to pull away, but I stop her by holding her hands firm on my face.

  A selfish move on my part.

  “Here’s the thing, Jess. We seem to have hit a momentary truce in our back and forth. I think we should celebrate that,” I whisper into her ear and let my lips brush her neck.

  She lets her fingers go up my arm and dance little circles on my skin. Her other hand finds a place on my chest as she plays with my shirt buttons. Every little micromovement sending a buzz through me.

  “How would you suggest we celebrate?” She lets her eyes lock with mine. Then she makes sure I’m watching as her head gently falls back so I can see her bare neck. A wide-open path for my lips to drag along. A smooth road.

  I let my lips linger around her ear and neck. Dragging their way to the soft skin of her bare shoulder. The smell of honey tingling my nose. My hand rests on her jean-covered thigh and my other hand goes to the back of her neck. Her lips gently touch the skin near my ear, lighting an inferno inside me.

  I want her, oh yeah, I want her.

  “Your clothes are going to find a way to the floor, and you are going to watch me as I fuck you like we both know you’ve always wanted.” It slips off my tongue with ease. My hand goes through her thick hair that I want to claw.

  She chortles. “We’ve gone over this, Leo. I haven’t been waiting for your small dick to screw me,” she reminds and teases me.

  “Now, now, Jess, let me at least prove you wrong before I leave. And it isn’t just about my dick, I’m sure my tongue has a point to prove too.”

  She looks at me, both ready and satisfied with my words. Her lips making a beautiful shape as they part.

  I move so my hands come to each side of her chair. I lean close, because I have no doubt in my mind. I know what I want, what I’ve wanted since the moment I met her.

  “Let’s get out of here.” My lips gently graze her cheek.

  “You’re really leaving tomorrow for a while?” she asks, borderline excited and needing assurance.

  I nod yes.

  “One night. Make it count.” She states it as a fact not a question as she bites her lip as if she’s holding back her anticipation and hops off the stool, holding her hand out to me.

  Our jackets find their way to the floor in a swift move as our mouths fuse before I push her against the wall and her hands grab my shirt.

  This is tension breaking down and we are both fierce with our pressure of lips pressing. She tastes like whiskey and honey—already I’m addicted.

  There is haste with our hungry kisses, no thought, and we’re acting like this is primal. A constant pushing and pulling of mouths and hands. We just keep moving and don’t stop this electric current.

  We make it halfway to her bedroom before we land on some steps and she’s on top of me, straddling me as I kiss her neck. Her lacy bra straps are falling off her shoulders.

  "This is a very good idea," I whisper but don’t stop exploring her skin.

  "Maybe we just need to get it out of our system," she gasps while she continues to enjoy my exploring mouth.

  I stop for a second, looking at her, and I let out a satisfied grin, shaking my head in agreement. “I like your thinking.”

  I lift her up and again her legs wrap around my waist. My throbbing bulge feeling her warm center. I carry her to her bedroom and a photo on the wall in the hallway falls victim to our decision, landing on the floor with the last of our clothes.

  Laying her on the bed, my mouth meets the skin of her stomach and travels lower as my fingers find the edge of her panties. I peer up at her eyes that are watching me as I lift the rim of the cloth and peel them off. We are both getting teased by my slow removal of the flimsy fabric. Anticipation reaching the brink.

  The first time it was rushed, electric, and nothing was going to slow us down. It was a release of tension built over the years. Then we collapsed on the bed, lying on our sides staring at each other, saying nothing. A beautiful silence.

  When the morning sun began to break through the blinds. We woke but said nothing. Nor did we de-tangle our limbs from each other. Instead, our bodies led us into another round where our mouths and hands got more time to explore. We didn’t need words as our bodies were two magnets unable to part.

  Now here we are, climaxing, with our mouths breathing our moans in one another’s ear. A contrast to the previous round—we were a little loud.

  Our lips part but I don’t pull out of her, instead we look into each other’s eyes for a few seconds and our eyes explore each other’s bodies as if we need to take in the reality of what we just did…again.

  I swear her eyes soften to me and there is a glimmer of something. It’s silent, but for some reason it feels like we’re thinking the same thing.

  That this is a moment between us.

  We don’t dare admit it, but maybe an honest moment. Our pull leads us, and our lips meet each other again for a slow kiss. An intimate kiss.

  The type of kiss that I’ve always wanted from her.

  Our mouths finally part and I roll to my back. We both stare at the ceiling and take a moment to catch our breath.

  After a minute, she speaks. “Great. So, we will keep this one in our vault," she says way too easily.

  "Our vault? Yeah. Sure. Whatever you want, peaches.” I roll out of bed and begin to look for clothes.

>   “Okay, no more getting it out of our system. It’s done.”

  I try to hold her gaze so she can’t look away. “Now that I’ve seen you in a black lace bra and panties, plus that little gem of a tattoo, then I begin to wonder why I didn’t try harder to get you into bed earlier.”

  She looks around the room. “Well. I guess you can keep that little gem in the back of your head as nobody knows about it.”

  “Ooh, blackmail material.”

  She shakes her head in entertainment as she watches me look for any article of clothing that may have made it to the bedroom.

  "Somewhere on the stairs?" She shrugs her shoulders. "Running from this mishap already?" she adds, and for some reason I sense a hint of disappointment and that surprises me.

  I look at her as I put on my briefs. I’m not sure which gets to me more; her beauty as she lies there with me just having made her come or the idea she seems disappointed I’m leaving.

  I don’t want to run away from her.

  “Come on.” I hold my hand out. “You must be hungry after the best sex of your life, and I think it’s already breakfast time, so follow me. I’ll make pancakes.”

  Chapter Five

  Jess

  Eighteen months later and still that night plays in my head on a loop. He surprised me in every way. He cooked me pancakes!

  He should have rushed off with a sense of accomplishment that I had been added to his list of women who submitted to his charm in a weak moment.

  Then we managed to sit there having an enjoyable breakfast together talking about everything under the moon. He doesn’t do that often; I know because I asked.

  Literally, I asked if pancakes were part of his usual post-screwing routine, and after a breather he answered honestly. He told me how his mother used to always make pancakes. Actually, I figured it was a special place in his heart, that memory, and he was sharing it with me.

  The whole night was some out-of-body experience. At breakfast we were two different people. Even agreeing. Then we did it again and hard… on my counter. My counter!

 

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