by Harlow James
When I turn my phone on, disappointment slams into me. There’s no response from him, which just makes my uneasiness fester.
My stomach is a bundled mess of nerves by the time I make it to my room with takeout, opting to stay in and purge instead of going out with a few other lawyers I met today. They all seemed like nice people, but my mental capacity to hold small talk went out the window as I struggled to stay awake during the last session of the day.
After stripping off my clothes and throwing on my pajamas sans bra, I rest my back against the headboard of my bed and balance the Styrofoam container of Chinese food between my crisscrossed legs. Reaching for my Kindle, I wait for it to wake up before I dive back into a series by one of my favorite author duos since the latest book just released yesterday. I’m hoping that reading will help me forget the twinge of fear that rests in my chest after my text conversation with Javi earlier.
Enthralled with the story, I spill Chow mein down my shirt but swipe it off, continuing to scroll my eyes across the words until my phone vibrates next to me, pulling my attention to the text lighting up the screen. I set my food to the side and swipe at the screen, bubbling with nerves as I read Javier’s text.
Javier: How was the rest of your day?
It’s not a reply to my question from earlier, but at least he’s not ghosting me. In fact, he’s actually trying to have a normal conversation, which both relieves some of the tension I felt earlier and piques my curiosity.
Me: Good. I learned a lot. Now I’m just reading and eating Chinese takeout in my hotel room.
Javier: If you say Panda Express is Chinese food, I don’t think we can be friends anymore.
My eyes veer to the lid of the container as the Panda Express logo stares me in the face.
Me: I happen to love their orange chicken.
Me: And I didn’t know we were friends…
Javier: Friends with benefits, remember?
Me: Hmmmm … I definitely recall the benefits, but not so much on the friendship.
Javier: Remind me when you get home to show you this little hole-in-the-wall, family-owned Chinese restaurant down the street from the gym. Then we’ll see how much you love that crap you’re eating.
Me: Thank you for your concern, and I would love to find a place near home that’s delicious.
Javier: What are you reading?
Me: You sure are interested in what I’m doing tonight … it’s kinda strange. Don’t you have plans this evening for debauchery with your boys or something?
Javier: Andre is my best friend, but he’s married … to my sister, so he doesn’t go out much. And truth is, neither do I. I’m actually in the middle of a barbeque at their house. A few of their friends are over, but I’m not much for partying these days.
Me: So you’d rather talk to me instead?
Javier: Something like that. I wish you were here instead so we could cause some debauchery all over my house.
The throbbing between my legs starts to grow. Just talking to Javier right now is sparking a need for him, but there’s also a feeling of calm washing over me as well, knowing he’d rather me be there, even if it is just for sex.
Javier: You never told me what you’re reading …
Me: A romance novel …
Javier: Like Fifty Shades of Grey?
Me: LOL No. Not all romance novels are like that, Javi.
Javier: We can’t get off together, so you’re getting off to some fictional guy instead?
Me: You should read his description, Javi. He’s dangerous, brooding, covered in tattoos and pining after a girl he’s loved his whole life and he’s not afraid to tell her how he feels. He’s hot!
I chuckle to myself, wondering what his face looks like right now. Are his lips pursed, his forehead scrunched in disgust or confusion?
Javier: He’s not real. Why would you want to imagine a man when you could have the real thing?
Me: Women are more complex when it comes to sex, Javi. Things are much more mental for us, and the imagination is a powerful thing. Sometimes reading a sex scene in a book gets me more turned on than if I were to watch porn. And the buildup between the characters always gets my heart racing. There’s more to the stories besides sex too. I think people forget that about love—the physical stuff can come and go, but the connection between two people beyond sex is what keeps the magic alive.
I press send and then realize I got way too philosophical on him. All he asked was if I’d rather have the real thing, and I go into a lecture about how sex isn’t everything. Which it’s not, but the only thing between Javi and I is sex—at least I think it is. Suddenly I’m not so sure as this conversation continues to progress.
Javier: I guess I can understand that. I mean, I still think nothing can replace sex, but I understand that women need more than just the physical. Kind of like when I blindfolded you … I bet you got off harder from that.
Me: I did.
Javier: Then next time I’ll try to think of something else to please you.
Me: Do you think about that often? The things you’re going to do to me …
I bite my lip as I wait for his reply, struggling not to smile. I know I wonder multiple times a day what Javier is going to give me next, so I wonder if he does the same.
Javier: All fucking day. I never thought you and I would ever be doing something like this, Princess … but fuck. I’m not mad about it.
Me: I’ll just have to use my imagination until I see you next week then.
Javier: You’d better be thinking of me and not some fictional character as you get off. If I could sneak away right now so I could get you off over the phone again, I would. But I just got roped into playing Cards Against Humanity.
Me: I LOVE that game! I even have the version made based off of the television show, Friends! We mixed those cards in with the original game and it made it so much better.
Javier: Fuck. You and my sister would get along great. She’s obsessed with the show too.
I’m not sure how to take that response. Does he want to formally introduce me to his sister? I mean, I met her for a second at the gym on that first day, and I remember her vaguely from high school. She was younger than us, but I think we had art together or something.
Me: Well, have fun. I’ll just be over here with my book and Panda Express.
Javier: You too. Well, fuck that. Don’t have too much fun, Princess. In fact, I dare you not to make yourself come until I see you again. It will make it that much better.
Just thinking about my next orgasm from Javi has the ache between my legs skyrocketing. Can I hold off? These characters are just about to get it on and I was itching for a release anyway.
Me: I don’t know. Maybe I will, maybe I won’t. Maybe once you see me you’ll be able to tell if I came all over my fingers or not.
Javier: Fuck. Now I’m hard. Don’t do it, Princess. Wait for me.
I know you can’t sense tone and emotion in a text, but there’s something about those last three words that squeeze around my heart. What the fuck is happening here between us?
Me: You’d better wait for me too then.
Javier: Done.
Me: Go play your game, Javi. Have fun. Goodnight.
Javier: Goodnight, Princess. Sleep well.
My heart is thrumming wildly by the time we end our conversation, my adrenaline firing so high that I don’t even have an appetite any more. I store the rest of my food in the mini fridge and get ready for bed, preparing to read some more and fight the urge to relieve the tension in my body that Javier builds every time we talk to each other. And even though our conversation tonight was primarily laced with sexual innuendos and tension, there were the small glimpses I got of him today that fed another need I’m developing for him—the one where I wonder if we’re joking ourselves that this thing between us can ever just be about sex.
After another long day of sessions and a few scattered text messages with Javier that had nothing to do with sex, I drive home
from Fort Worth late that Sunday night. Byron knew I’d get in late, so he gave me that Monday off, in which I used my extra day to sleep in and get caught up on laundry and grocery shopping—you know, the extremely thrilling parts of being an adult.
By the time Tuesday came around, I was smacked in the face with reality as I entered the office, thrown back into the world of emails, client meetings, court appearances, and paperwork. But that night was my next self-defense class and the first time I’d see Javier since our phone sex incident and the text messages we exchanged this weekend.
The excitement I felt walking into the gym was different this time too. I knew I wasn’t going to be able to jump his bones in front of everyone, so the thrill of an impending orgasm wasn’t what made me jumpy. I think it was more along the lines of seeing his face after only talking through a screen for days, or wondering what his reaction would be seeing me after so long and actually opening up to me a bit.
After I change my outfit in the locker room and put away my things, I stride into the room where the class takes place and see Javier standing there in front of the white board with his back to me, giving me the perfect view of his toned ass and broad back. His tank top shows off the boulders of muscles in his arms covered in the ink that I’ve grown quite fond of, and of course he has his hat on backwards, which sparks a devilish side in me that wants to ride him with it still on.
I don’t say a word as I soak up the sight of him, but as if he can sense me, a slight twist of his head over his shoulders grants me with a natural, blinding smile I’ve never seen from him before, and not just since we started sleeping together. This is a smile that genuinely shows that he’s happy to see me, accompanied by what I could only describe as a twinkle in his eye, and suddenly my heart is leaping on the trampoline in my chest.
“Hey, Princess,” he says, turning completely now as his eyes bounce up and down my body, taking in my workout gear.
“Hi.”
His mouth opens to say something but then his face falls flat instantly, mine following suit. His eyes veer left, which spikes my curiosity to turn around and discover what changed his reaction to me in a second.
A man dressed in a black polo shirt and khaki pants comes waltzing in the room, staring at Javier. And as I take in his uniform, it hits me that I know exactly what this guy is here for.
“Javier. Nice to see you,” he says, stopping right beside me with an outstretched hand, waiting for Javier to shake it.
Javi moves forward, intercepting the gesture, but his face remains hard with a hint of astonishment.
“Gerald. This is a surprise.”
“Well, you know that’s part of the drill. Can we go somewhere to talk?”
Javi nods and then walks right past me as if I’m not standing there, ruminating on this man’s presence. As they saunter off and I take in the back of the man’s shirt, a million questions start rolling through my mind.
A parole officer just walked in here looking for Javier, it seemed. But then again, I could be wrong. There could be a million reasons why he came in—checking on another employee or client, trying to obtain information about another offender that has gone missing—this list of possibilities is endless.
Yet, remembering the way Javi’s face fell flat tells me there might be more to that man’s appearance than I realize, which means there’s a whole lot more about Javier that I don’t know.
And even though doubt could easily seep its way into my brain right now, the only thing I care about is making sure Javi’s alright. He seemed rattled by the man’s appearance, but something tells me there’s more to the story, which means maybe more questions are in order between Javier and myself.
Chapter 18
Javier
“I’m so proud of you ladies. I hope this class has helped build confidence and strength in you, both physically and mentally. Just remember to remain calm in a situation and recall your training here if you ever find yourself being attacked.” I flash an inherent smile at the women before dispersing the clipboards. “If you would please fill out this survey before you leave letting us know how the class benefited you or if there’s anything else we can improve on, we would appreciate it.”
Clay moves alongside me, handing the surveys and pens to the girls as they wait for us to pass them out. I purposefully made sure to start on the side where Sydney is seated so I can catch a glimpse of her without it seeming obvious. She flashes me a knowing grin and then I move along, counting down the minutes until she’s back in my bed with her legs spread, shouting my name.
It’s been over a week since she’s been back from her conference and we’ve been finding every moment possible to fuck, which unfortunately hasn’t been as often as I’d like. Just a few nights ago I had her riding me on my couch with a blindfold on again. Based on our conversation, I’d say she likes relinquishing her eyesight, and her intense orgasm that pulled one from me as well only confirmed it.
The woman now owns a slice of real estate in my mind, growing with every piece of her that I’m discovering. And yet, in the back of my mind, I’m chastising myself for going there, crossing the line that I was so hell bent on drawing the night this all started. I told Sydney I wasn’t programmed for anything but sex, and before her, that was exactly the case. Now this woman that six weeks ago I couldn’t stand is quickly becoming a person that I crave, not just for her body, but her mind as well.
Last weekend when she was away had me walking around with an ache in my chest that was all too unfamiliar. Irritation ran through me knowing I couldn’t have her the second I wanted her. I felt like a toddler wanting to throw a tantrum because I couldn’t get my way, and the desire I felt to hear for voice made my stomach twist in knots.
So instead of waiting for her to return, I fucking texted her—curious about what she was doing, what she was wearing, or if she bites on the cap of her pen while deep in thought. I imagined her sitting in a cushioned chair during her conference, her long legs crossed with her heel clad feet dangling as she bobbed them up in down, enraptured by the speaker of the session, her long hair draped around her face and a wrinkle in her brow from concentration.
The woman didn’t even have to be naked and I fantasized about her. And then she told me a little bit more about why she became a lawyer, causing something in my mind to shift where she was concerned. I never knew that Sydney Matthews’ father wasn’t her real dad, and come to find out, we share a loss deeply rooted in our childhood.
Losing my dad was the worst thing that ever happened to me, the catalyst that sparked a bomb that erupted my life as I knew it.
I remember that morning before he left for work like it was yesterday.
“I don’t want to go. The girls are so mean to me.” My sister whines as my mother hoists her backpack on her back and smooths down her hair.
“You can’t avoid school because some little girls are acting like brats,” my mother counters. “Besides, Javi will be there in case something happens.”
“That’s right.” My father steps in, bending down in front of my sister so he’s eye level with her. His cowboy hat rests on his head, his skin darkened by the sun he slaves away in all day. “We are a family and we protect one another, stand up for each other. Always. That never changes, no matter what.”
His eyes find me standing next to him as he nods his head, asking if I understand his words. So I reciprocate, knowing that my father is bestowing a trust in me at a young age to watch over my sister and my mother, a responsibility that I know is not given lightly. “Especially us men, right Javi?”
“Si, Padre.”
“You are a Montes, Javi. You protect your own, even if it’s against little niñas at school terrorizing your sister. Be there for her, and your Madre, always.”
I bob my head up and down again as a wave of responsibility passes through me, transforming me from a boy into a man with his words. His dark brown eyes sear a promise between us before he stands, kisses my mother and sister on the cheek,
pats my head, and leaves our home.
Little did I know that would be the last day I ever saw him.
“Thank you for everything.” A small voice pulls me from my trip down memory lane. Jessica, one of the girls in the class comes up to me, batting her eyelashes suggestively. I’m no stranger to girls coming on to me on the job, but I have absolutely no desire to feed into her games.
“You’re welcome, Jessica. Take care. And if you’re interested in a monthly membership, please talk to Bethany up at the front desk.” I dip my head to her in parting before walking around her and toward the door to get prepared for my next class.
I dodge Sydney as I leave since we have agreed to keep contact between us minimal at the gym. But not saying goodbye to her stirs up something deep in my gut, something that feels like missing her, especially since we hadn’t yet scheduled our next rendezvous. After last week, I wasn’t sure she would want to continue our arrangement when Gerald, my parole officer, surprised me at the gym. Impromptu visits are customary, but the fact that he showed up and Sydney was standing right there was a wake-up call, causing me to pull back from prying more into her life.
It reminded me that by asking her questions, I was inviting her to do the same, and there were so many details about my life that Sydney didn’t need to know, things that would probably make her think twice about the arrangement between us. And even though it makes me sound like an ass, I didn’t want to sacrifice the incredibly satisfying physical relationship we started by bringing my past mistakes into it. If Sydney really knew who she was sleeping with, I’m almost positive she’d think twice about it.
After my last class ends and I head home, my stomach is growling at me for sustenance. Reaching into the fridge, I grab some grilled chicken from the other night, some brown rice, and some fresh veggies to sauté for a quick meal. I not only try to eat healthy to maintain my physique, but after eating prison food for two years, I will never take vegetables for granted ever again.
