Diced: A New Year’s Novella

by Scott, Ginger

  “Come home with me,” I whisper up against his chin. The rough stubble of his jaw scratches against my lips as he looks back down into my eyes. He chews at the inside of his cheek as his brow furrows with indecision.

  “Don’t…don’t overthink it. Don’t ask yourself what my dad would say. You said you promise…I want to know what you promise me; not what you promised him.” His eyes dance over my face as he takes in every word.

  “What about finishing up the service?” He gives me a faint crooked smile.

  I lift my bare shoulder, still cool from the kisses he left behind.

  “I have people for that. What’s that guy’s name?” I raise one brow.

  “You mean Neil?”

  “Yeah, that guy. I think maybe I’ll poach him,” I say, puckering my lips to hold in my laugh. Jamie flinches for a second then relaxes into laughter.

  His dimples smooth out when his expression grows more serious, and apologies turn into desire.

  “Come on,” he nods, his hand sliding down my arm until our fingers weave together.

  I let Jamie guide me through the casino and back out to the main strip. I slip off my muddied shoes while he pulls his phone from his back pocket and dials someone who answers quickly.

  “Yeah, at the front.” He hangs up and looks to my hand, now holding my shoes. He reaches for them, and I giggle like a school girl because it’s such a silly but sweet gesture. I hand them over.

  “Are you seriously so big that you have a guy…like a driver guy? On call?” His mouth curves into this sinister smirk.

  “Yeah. I’m that big.”

  I mimic his tight-lipped smile and blink slowly, feeling the rush of heat that’s starting to take over my body. I’m grateful for the car pulling up when it does, and not because of the distraction, but because I need privacy for all of the things I’m about to do to Jamie.

  His driver races to the door, opening it for us to climb into the back, and the moment it’s closed behind us, I feel Jamie’s hands tugging at the band of my pants and pulling me to his lap. I obey willingly, straddling him as he presses a button to talk to his driver.

  “Just drive us around for a bit. Then we’ll head to…”

  He glares into my eyes and whispers “your address?”

  “Oh, six-thirty-four Eaton Street, in Tierra Buena.”

  “Yes, sir. Ma’am,” his driver says, his voice cut off when Jamie hits mute.

  “Ma’am?” I laugh.

  “That was Dustin. He’s formal. I like him,” he says, sliding his palms over my ass and pulling me toward him.

  “Mmmmm,” I say. “Formal, huh?”

  My forehead falls to Jamie’s, and I nip at his mouth, both wanting him to hurry and go slow. “You were saying something about promises?”

  A low rumble of laughter bubbles in his chest.

  “I was,” he says, sliding his hands up my shirt and gathering the material along the way until he pulls my blouse up and over my head.

  “I promise that I will not,” he begins and stops again, this time pausing to tug my bra free and brush his thumbs over the hard peaks of my breasts as he moves around my body, to my back. He presses a kiss between my breasts, drawing a line with his tongue up my neck as my head falls back, tilting to give him access as he tastes his way to my mouth again. He moves his hips and pulls me closer, pressing his erection against my center, then draws my face forward again, resting his forehead to mine just as before.

  “Let you end this year,” he continues, eyes hazed as his tongue wets his bottom lip just before his teeth grab hold. Watching him has ruined me, and my body is melting with the need I have for all of him. We could not possibly be in a worse place, well…that’s a lie. We could still be in the icebox. We’re in a car—the kind I always imagine to be carrying famous people around the city, and I can hear people just out our window, screaming and blowing horns to celebrate the new year. He has me gambling now—not caring about anything other than this moment, his touch, and…

  Fuck it.

  My hands grip both sides of his shirt, and I pull it from him completely, moving quickly to his belt, unbuckling, unsnapping, unzipping—all while his mouth hovers a millimeter away from my skin near my mouth, around my neck, by my ear. My body tingles, and I arch in desperation, wanting his hands to touch me again, wanting him to follow through with everything he’s started.

  “How, Jamie?” I speak against him, my hand gripping his hard erection. His eyes flutter to a close with my touch, and I revel in the power. He growls into my neck, biting me lightly, and I smile against his bare shoulder, tasting him for the first time in years. My senses are flooded with the familiar hunger, and my fingers dig into his skin. “You won’t let me end this year…how?”

  His hands drag down my back slowly, and I arch and roll my body against his with the feel, my breasts searing from the heat of him against my nipples. His thumbs dip into my waistband, and he jerks the material into a hard grip, tugging swiftly to clear my hips, but stopping just before he can see me completely. He lifts me on my knees, and without letting go, stares into my eyes, raising one side of his mouth before looking down at my breasts. Leaning forward, he takes one nipple in his mouth, his hands still locked around the fabric of my pants and underwear, holding me in position. He sucks the tip of my breast hard, and I whimper from the sweet ache it sends all the way down my body, between my legs.

  With a flick of his tongue, he jolts my body again, stopping with my nipple held hostage between his teeth. His tongue passes over the tip again, and he applies a soft pressure, the build so much that I can’t help but reach my hands into the golden brown curls of his hair, willing him to bite harder. He stops, though, kissing my raw skin lightly and smiling as he rolls us until I’m flat on my back and he’s on his knees, towering over me.

  I look up as he gazes down. I gasp, only because I’m too weak to beg. My wait is short, though. His hands pull my pants and white cotton panties down my thighs and away from my feet in one motion. His hands slide up the insides of my legs, parting my knees on either side of him. Wet and waiting, my entrance feels the tip of him penetrate and my mouth falls open with a heavy, needy breath.

  “You won’t end this year without feeling me inside of you,” he says, pushing into me swiftly, filling me completely with every familiar inch.

  The fit is as if no time has passed, and Jamie moves in and out of me in slow, hard pumps as I grip the leather of the seat. My clothing discarded to the floor, I wrap my legs around him completely, my body quaking with every push of his cock, deeper, until the initial rush fades and Jamie slows his rhythm.

  His mouth covers mine completely, and his kiss is desperate, but just as slow. His tongue exploring my mouth with each push into me, pulling away and clinging with his teeth before coming back to me for more.

  “It’s like I’ve always been right here…us, the way you feel…it’s the same, but so much better than I remembered. Goddamn, I’ve missed you, Mia,” he says against my ear. I whimper as he pulls out of me, but I let him lead.

  He moves us so I’m straddling him again. I do as he requests, quickly filling myself with him, this time taking charge of our movement, my hips falling into him, then lifting slowly, each time threatening to break our connection before falling back harder.

  I take pleasure in the power he gives me, teasing him when I feel him twitch with want, threatening to come. I slow long enough for him to drag my hips into him again, begging for me to move more, to move faster—harder.

  His hands roam my body, digging into my ass, then sliding up my sides until his thumbs find the hard peaks of my breasts. One touch threatens to send me over the edge completely, so I grab his wrists and try to force him away, but he catches me—the tiny dimple on my forehead giving me away. He could always tell when I was holding on, trying to make it last—and he always loved to ruin it.

  I loved to let him.

  I let him now…again…after so many years, so long apart.


  I let go of my hold on his hands, moving to his shoulders to steady myself as his hands move back to my breasts, his thumbs and fingers pinching just lightly at first, but harder every time I force myself down on him.

  Unable to stifle my cries, I quit caring who might hear, and I moan loudly, my head falling back and body arching, the waves so strong that I almost fall to the ground completely from sheer lack of control. Jamie holds me to him, though, his arms wrapping around me, hands lifting my hips and pulling me to him until he growls his release against my breasts, his body shaking with each rush as he pulls me down.

  Down.

  Down.

  We both pant; our bodies covered in a sheen of sweat. We’re exhausted and satiated. I let Jamie hold me, my weight completely resting against him, my chest to his, my arms around his shoulders and neck, head resting in the small space that I’ve missed—home. I’m relaxed and happy for nearly a minute before I feel my chest start to draw tight. I breathe in once, and my lungs aren’t satisfied, so I breathe in again.

  I breathe in short bursts, and the feel of it starts to hurt—I panic. Oh my god.

  Oh my god!

  “Shhhh,” he says into my ear, his hand sweeping away the damp wild strands of my hair. He brings my face into his hold, and I stare into his clear eyes, my mind telling myself to feel everything about this moment—to prove that it isn’t all a dream.

  A loud thunder shakes the car around us, and I startle, pulling myself close to him. Jamie only chuckles.

  “More fireworks, Rabbit,” he says.

  Rabbit.

  I look at him panicked, but melt quickly hearing him call me that.

  “Everyone in this city is watching the fireworks,” he says, kissing the tip of my nose and tucking my hair behind my ears while his eyes look over me, stopping for long breaths on every curve of my face, following from one touch of his hand to the next.

  “Happy New Year,” I say, my lips curving lightly, my cheeks blushing as the aftershock of what we’ve done and where we are starts to settle in.

  Jamie chuckles. “Nobody can see us. And even if they could, they’re all…”

  He stops to smirk, drawing my forehead to his.

  “Kissing,” he says, guiding my chin up, taking my mouth in his and kissing me once—deep and hard.

  He pulls away, and I literally bat my lashes. I’m blissful on his lap, naked, and Jamie is still hard inside of me. He shifts to move us apart, but I hold on.

  “And where are you going?” I ask him, leaning in to take the edge of his ear in my teeth. I let my tongue trace along the curve until I feel him pulse inside of me, and I grin against him.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” he says, lifting me up and flipping me to my back again, the cold leather glorious against my hot skin. “Not now,” he says, pushing into me as he falls forward, his arms caging me in. He rocks back out, and I cry out, reaching for his hips. His forehead falls to mine, and he gives me what I want.

  “Not ever. I’m never leaving you again,” he says.

  The sky crackles outside, and our car races forward from one stoplight to the next. I hear the occasional person moving outside, and in a rush, I draw open the moonroof so we can see the fire in the sky above us. It would be so easy for anyone to see us. We thrive off of the thrill.

  And I hold on tight for the ride.

  THE END

  Also by Ginger Scott

  The Waiting Series

  Waiting on the Sidelines

  Going Long

  *coming in January 2019*

  The Hail Mary

  Like Us Duet

  A Boy Like You

  A Girl Like Me

  The Falling Series

  This Is Falling

  You And Everything After

  The Girl I Was Before

  In Your Dreams

  The Harper Boys

  Wild Reckless

  Wicked Restless

  Standalone Reads

  Cry Baby

  The Hard Count

  Memphis

  Hold My Breath

  Blindness

  How We Deal With Gravity

  About the Author

  Ginger Scott is an Amazon-bestselling and Goodreads Choice Award-nominated author from Peoria, Arizona. She is the author of several young and new adult romances, including bestsellers Cry Baby, The Hard Count, A Boy Like You, This Is Falling and Wild Reckless.

  A sucker for a good romance, Ginger's other passion is sports, and she often blends the two in her stories. When she's not writing, the odds are high that she's somewhere near a baseball diamond, either watching her son field pop flies like Bryce Harper or cheering on her favorite baseball team, the Arizona Diamondbacks. Ginger lives in Arizona and is married to her college sweetheart whom she met at ASU (fork 'em, Devils).

  Look for The Hail Mary, book 3 in The Waiting Series, to release January 18, 2019.

  FIND GINGER ONLINE: www.littlemisswrite.com