Finally, I made that run to the lady’s room with Alana. She took me by the arms and guided me against the wall. “What the fuck, Bryn? Your two exes are at our table. And you’re fucking one of them, and the other’s our client’s hooptie?” She leaned in closer. “And did he give you an authentic orgasm? I thought I heard you coming from a real intravaginal orgasm.”
She watched me with glossy eyes, waiting for my answer. It was hard to concentrate, since everyone who walked past us was watching us as if we were about to give them some hot girl-on-girl sex show. Finally, I nodded.
“Shit, shit, shit… you do know there are only a handful of men in the world who know how to do that shit.” She shook a finger in my face. “And I guarantee you, none of them look like Jamison Cox. Those other guys are frogs, and they have to know how to fuck or they’ll never get any. Your guy could have moderate skills and a less-than-average-sized dick and still land a shit-ton of pussy.”
I grimaced, wondering if she knew that what she said wasn’t true in the least. I’d had conversations with all three of my sisters-in-law about sex, and they’d all confessed that my brothers gave them dick-to-pussy orgasms. And my brothers were like walking, talking Greek gods. There was no use arguing with Alana that she was wrong. I figured one day she’d learn the pleasurable way that her theory was wrong.
I dropped my hands onto her shoulders. “Alana?”
“Huh?” she said way too loudly. She’d had about three glasses of wine.
“I gotta go pee now.” I kissed her on the cheek and walked into the ladies’ room.
When we made it back to the table, Eden was in my seat and talking to Jamison. Dale didn’t seem bothered by all the attention she was giving my boyfriend. He scoped out the women in the room, including Alana, who he eye banged all the way until she sat down next to him. Eden hadn’t seemed bothered by that either. She also didn’t want to move back to her chair, but Jamison insisted she did.
Gosh, is he too good to be true?
The first thing Alana did when she sat down was ask Eden a barrage of questions about her sitcom and especially her good-looking costars, Daniel Daring and Christ Potts. Dale continued staring at the females in the room, and the younger and needier they were, the more attention he gave them. I loved the fact that Jamison’s eyes hadn’t wandered once. I nuzzled up against my new beau, determined to go the distance with him for as long as possible and hopefully a lifetime.
It didn’t take long to forget that Dale was at the table. Eden did a far better job ignoring his sulking than I would have when we were together. When Dale wasn’t having a good time, he was like a joy sucker. I was starting to feel sorry for him.
Eden leaned forward so she could get a complete picture of Jamison. “What about this weekend? How about we do some horseback riding on Friday and skiing on Saturday?”
“Who wants to be on a horse when it’s this damn cold outside?” Alana said.
Eden shot her a snide look. That question was for Jamison, not her.
“Plus, I’m going to California this weekend. I’m babysitting,” I said.
“You are?” Jamison sounded surprised.
I looked into his whiskey eyes. “Yes. I’m spending time with my nieces and nephew at the Montecito estate.”
Jamison nodded.
“But you’ll be here, right?” Eden asked him.
He shook his head. “I’m going wherever she’s going.”
My eyebrows pulled. “Spencer’s going to be there.”
He nodded. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Okay.”
Then our lips became magnets, engaging in teasing kisses.
Alex cleared his throat. “I’m trying to eat over here.”
Alana use both hands to wave us on. “No, by all means, continue.”
Jamison and I laughed off our desire to sneak off somewhere quiet and bang. But would that be enough? A wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am? Our sex was like luxuriating in natural springs made of magical water with sprinkles of rainbows, fairy dust, and every beautiful myth humanity had conjured to make us mightier and take us away from reality. Up until that moment, our fast-moving relationship had felt like destiny, but it had also felt volatile.
“Okay, well, what about next weekend?” Eden asked Jamison.
Dale snorted bitterly as he threw his hands up. “Eden, I’m sitting the fuck over here. Can you give it a break already?”
She threw herself forward. “Could you give it a break?”
“Give what a break?” He clearly had no idea what she was talking about.
Eden looked at him, stunned. At least I then understood why she flirted so intensely with other men. It was her way of getting back at Dale for undressing other women with his eyes. I wanted to tell her that he wasn’t aware that he did it. He was in a daze. He had issues that only a good therapist could help him resolve.
Eden turned to me. “So, are we on for the week after next?”
“I don’t ski,” I said.
Eden’s jaw dropped. “No way. An heiress who doesn’t adorn herself in a tight, sexy ski outfit and hit the slopes? Unheard of.”
I laughed and snuggled closer against Jamison’s body. He had his arm around me, and I was finishing my second glass of red wine, feeling woozily in love and, despite Eden and Dale’s last spat, in good company. “I hated those people,” I confessed.
“I can believe that,” Alana said. “Bryn is the most un-heiress heiress I ever met.”
Dale slumped in his seat and snorted. “If you had Randolph Christmas for a father, you’d be an un-heiress heiress too.”
“Hey,” Jamison said in a booming voice. His body tightened—he was ready to stuff Dale in the bathroom toilet.
“Dale, stop being a dick or go home!” Eden yelled.
Dale hardened his jaw and turned away from her. I knew what stage they were in. She was the one in control because he needed her for that production project he’d mentioned earlier. I was certain that if it weren’t for that project, Dale would never have backed down so easily.
Jamison, glaring at him, shifted his position. I rubbed his thigh to calm him down and then faced him. He put his mouth next to my ear. “That guy brings out the worst in me.”
I lifted my mouth to his ear. “He brings out the worst in everybody. He needs help.”
“I love that about you, you know?”
“Love what?”
“He treats you with disrespect, and you have empathy for him.”
“Whispering sweet nothings over there?” Alana said.
“Howdy. How’s everyone doing tonight?” a woman’s voice blared through the PA system.
Jamison and I looked away from Alana, who also turned toward the stage to see a blonde with two pigtails, probably in her early twenties. She was dressed in tight jeans, fur boots, and a checkered blouse tied in the front to show her midriff. Attention was what she wanted, and attention was what she was getting.
She announced that it was time for karaoke, and those who wanted their turn should come up front and sign up. Alana immediately pulled Alex out of his chair, and they made their way to the stage. The girl handling the list let them go first since Alex was so cute, which she mentioned three times before announcing them.
Dale jumped to his feet and narrowed his eyes at Eden. “I’m leaving. Are you coming?”
With their last argument, Eden had handed Dale the victory. He’d managed to change her mood from happy to cruddy. She acceded to his wishes, said goodbye to me and Jamison, and asked that I tell Alana and Alex that she would see them in the morning. Dale didn’t say goodbye to either of us.
Jamison and I were alone at the table at last. I smiled. “We made it.”
“You handled the whole situation with grace, babe. I’m proud of you.”
We gazed into each other’s eyes and then kissed tenderly, keeping it PG, until the music started and Alana announced she and Alex would be singing “Wild Night,” a song from the ’90s by Joh
n Mellencamp and Meshell Ndegeocello. Jamison and I, still cozy, sat in amused anticipation as the music started. Alex and Alana held their microphones, and then the action started.
Their performances were coordinated, spirited, and, to my surprise—especially in Alex’s case—entertaining and spicy. My jaw hit the floor as I watched Alana push her breasts against Alex while singing her lines. But Alex didn’t keep his hands to himself either. He gripped her ass several times. And I swear he grew a boner that wouldn’t shrink.
“They’re having sex,” Jamison said in my ear.
Unable to look away from the show, I nodded. “For sure.”
Three Hours Later
“What the hell was that?” Jamison asked after we closed ourselves into my suite. I fell back against the wall, laughing so hard I had to clutch my aching belly. The entire day was definitely one from the Twilight Zone.
It was late. The strangest thing had occurred. Patrons had enjoyed Alex and Alana’s act so much that they kept shouting, “Another!” A new song was cued up, and my assistants sang while engaging in more heavy petting, gazing into each other’s eyes and dirty dancing. A handful of performances later, after we each had one last drink, we headed back to the resort, and they ended up making out passionately in the back seat. Jamison and I were too shocked to speak over the moaning, slurping, smacking, and guttural grunts. Whenever they tried to break away from each other, the lustful haze they were trapped inside of would lead them to go back at it. It was as if we were not in the car with them.
When Jamison parked the vehicle in the spot reserved for my suite, he announced, “We’re here!”
“Back at the resort,” I added.
I allowed myself to catch a glimpse of what they were doing. Alex was unbuttoning Alana’s pants, and their tongues were crammed down each other’s throats. It was months of walled-off sexual tension finally set free. Alex must have understood what Alana meant by him being too soft. That night, for the first time, I got it too. I’d always thought that she avoided her attraction for him because he was too kind, not the sort who’d spit on the sidewalk or tell a stranger who was annoying him to shut up, but it was actually because he’d never made an assertive move on her.
“I’m pretty sure they’re going to regret it in the morning,” I said.
Jamison took me by the hand and tugged me against his taut chest. Our lips were ready to kiss as our rapid breaths collided. Electricity sparked in my body. Jamison was hard in all the right places.
“Now it’s our turn,” he said, his voice thick with craving.
Jamison claims my lips. Our tongues explore. He takes my sweater off. I unbutton his stiff shirt, and together, we finish taking it off. We stagger toward the bedroom. Next, pants off—mine and then his. We fall onto the bed. His fullness pushes against my pussy and rubs.
Our moans are raw, fiery. Jamison snatches my panties off. I hear them rip.
I whimper and sigh, arching my back, overripe with lust as he practically tears his own underwear off. I need him inside me so much I’m about to burst into flames. Our gazes explore each other as he takes his cock in one hand and presses one of my thighs against the mattress. My breathing grows faster, louder as he stuffs his overgrown erection inside me.
“Ha!” The back of my head jabs the pillow.
“Oh… I’ve been waiting all night for this.” His voice is raspy as he prods my pussy like a man on a mission. I can tell by the movement of his dick that he wants me to come.
I want to come. Lifting my hips, I have to touch him. My fingers entwine with his hair then reach toward his chest, arms, and back. Oh, the fullness of his cock, sliding against my pussy walls. It feels so good. He’s so completely inside me.
“I love you, Jamison,” I say, eyes closed, chasing the orgasm. “I want you forever.”
“Me too,” he says before his mouth devours mine.
In and out.
“Oh,” I croak against his mouth.
In and out.
The sensation is gathering, building, and becoming.
In and out. In and out. In and out. In…
“Ha!” I scream at the top of my lungs.
He holds it right there.
I let Jamison do me dirty after that. He set me on my hands and knees and pumped his dick into my pussy from behind. He didn’t pound me like Dale used to. He said he liked to go slow. He wanted to relish the feeling of my warmth, wetness, and tightness encasing his cock. He wanted to know that it was me, Bryn Christmas, he was making love to. And when he came, he wanted me to turn around so that he could see my face. He wanted to remember that it was I who had brought him to the highest point of pleasure.
Then we lay loose-limbed, letting our skin cool in the temperate room. “Did you mean that?” he said, still out of breath.
“Mean what?” I sighed.
“That you loved me and wanted me forever.”
I smiled, because I felt no hesitation, no fear. “Mm-hm, I did.” I turned to face him. He was looking up at the ceiling. “Did you mean it when you said, ‘Me too’?”
After a moment, he faced me. He tried to hide it, but he looked worried. Then he smiled. “Yes. I did.”
I believed him even though I knew why he’d looked concerned. I gently smoothed the wrinkle out of his eyebrow with my thumb. “We need to make peace between my brother and your father, don’t we?”
“That’s easier said than done.”
We stared at each other for several seconds. When I pictured telling Jasper and Spencer that I was back with Jamison, I imagined that Spencer would be indifferent about it and Jasper would be overly cautious. My oldest brother, Jasper, could always be reached two ways. Firstly, I could reason with him. I would have to pitch an angle that he could accept. Secondly, I would have to ask him to trust me—no, beg him to. I hadn’t known to what extent Jasper had hurt the Coxes, but I knew that when Boomer gave the first punch, Jasper struck back with a sword made of lightning.
“If you don’t mind me asking, what has Jasper done to you?” I asked.
Jamison forced his eyes away from mine to refocus on the ceiling. “I don’t want you involved.”
My mouth slacked. “What?”
“I don’t want you to think what we have between us has anything to do with your brother and my family’s business.”
I shifted to lie on my side, smoothing my hand over his chest then stopping over his heart to feel it beat against my palm. “Jamison?”
He closed his eyes to sigh and then looked at me.
“I’m the fastest way you’re going to get him to stop whatever he’s doing. So tell me, what has he done?”
“I don’t want it that way, Bryn. I want him to fucking stop because…” He pressed his lips together.
I propped myself up on my arm. “Jamison, please tell me what Jasper has done. I can promise you this, he won’t stop until he believes you’ve gotten what he thinks you deserve. And…” I sighed.
“What’s wrong with that guy, anyway? I read about the torture and shit, but he’s like a robot. You program him, and he administers the pain without feeling. My family built our business from the ground up. We didn’t have billions of dollars passed down to us.”
I sighed, took my hand off his chest, and flopped over onto my back. Jamison couldn’t know that my father had wasted most of the inherited money. At the age of fifteen, Jasper had the wherewithal to rebuild the family chest and maintain it. No one became that competent and in control by being a tyrant. Jasper could be reasoned with and influenced—and I was an expert at both.
“Sorry,” he said, setting his moist hand on top of my belly. “I didn’t mean to upset you by insulting your brother.”
“You didn’t upset me, Jamison. You have the right to have an opinion about my brother. I love Jasper as if he’s my father, though, and in many ways, he’s the one who raised me. But sure, from the outside looking in, he can be seen as…” I didn’t want to say the one word that best described a vengeful
Jasper.
“Ruthless,” Jamison said. “He’s ruthless.”
“Did he bankrupt you?”
Jamison stayed silent.
“He did, didn’t he?”
“Almost,” he whispered.
I sighed into the darkness. “You don’t have any clients. That’s why you have time to be here.”
Again, silence.
“I’m going to fix this, Jamison. I promise you. I give you my word.”
He shook his head. “I don’t need you to do that, Bryn. I don’t want you to.”
I quickly turned to press my finger over his lips. “This is about right and wrong, not about me fighting your battles.”
His eyebrows pulled together. The creases between his eyes were deep and pronounced. I planted a soft kiss on his parted lips.
“Please?” I whispered then kissed him again. “Please?” I kept kissing and repeating my request until, full of explosive passion, his mouth claimed mine, and we were all over the bed.
Chapter Thirteen
Bryn Christmas
It wasn’t the alarm that woke me up—it was Jamison’s big fat erection grinding into the crack of my ass, requesting entrance to my warm passage. The night before, our skin-on-skin heavy petting and deep kissing had felt compulsive. We didn’t stop rolling at all angles across the bed until our activity slowed. Then we clung to each other, wrapped our legs around each other’s, and fell asleep. Throughout the night, whenever we lost contact, we would quickly find it again. Our bodies were asleep, but our souls were awake and in desperate need of each other’s touch.
I’d given in to Jamison’s beckoning. His heaviness was on top of me. He was between my legs. My joints bore the weight of his six-foot, three-inch frame composed mostly of muscle.
Our warmed skin mushed together. He filled me up with his manhood. The room was hazy because it was snowy and gray outside…
“Um…”
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