by Ava Claire
"Stevie!" Margaret fist bumped the man and he flashed a brief smile, then turned back to stone when he saw me. "This is Jason's guest, Natalee Madison.”
I had no time to digest the fact that she knew my full name, because I was too focused on the fact that she said it reverently, like she'd be in big trouble if she mispronounced a syllable.
"Right this way,” Stevie rumbled.
He pulled open the door without hesitation, going back to attention as I walked past...then shut the door behind me.
Suite? The place reminded me of a lounge. The lights were dimmed, encouraging one to release your inhibitions because here, you could be anonymous. Candles as big as my head raged on pillars spread around the room, the vanilla scent relaxing and inviting. There were no tables back here, just onyx colored floor pillows and a bar area with two stools.
One was occupied, the man in the chair commanding authority even with his back turned. I knew it was him without even seeing his face because the aching need between my thighs was back...along with the need to take him by the shoulders and shake him until some truths came out.
When he'd first suggested meeting, I'd jokingly asked if he owned the place. When the only other person in the room met my gaze from behind the bar, then wasted no time at all exiting, I knew I had the answer to one of my questions.
He was the boss.
CHAPTER EIGHT: JASON
It took second guessing which button down shirt I wanted to wear, coupled with the urge to have a drink or three while I was waiting, thirty minutes early, when punctuality was far from my strong suit, for me to realize that this was what first date jitters felt like.
How could anyone stand it? I kept checking my phone, going to my work email, pretending I wasn’t expecting a text from her at any moment. A text that explained that she was coming down with something and had to cancel, but the truth would have been she had a case of BS.
“Right,” I grunted, gesturing for the bartender to refresh my glass. Natalee wasn’t the kind of woman that bothered with bullshit. Her text would likely read, ‘You’re a jerk and I deserve better’. And when the bartender tiptoed over, one of the new hires who was almost as afraid of her shadow as much as she was afraid of me, I wondered if Natalee was right.
I was more of a silent, financial partner at Crave, but I still carried a big stick. The employees after my own heart were the ones who didn’t treat me like I was a king with unchecked power that you had to pledge an oath of fealty to. Staff like Margaret, who’d asked for my autograph when we met, then blurted out that I was almost as cute in person as I was in magazines. Or Stevie, who nearly crushed my hand when he shook it after we brought him on for VIP clientele who used the suite.
They were the only ones I’d told about Natalee. While we paid our staff well, the gossip rags would pay them even better for a tip re: billionaire playboy Jason Cox meeting with a woman for an honest-to-God date.
A real Cinderella story...and the last vibe I wanted to send to Natalee. I’d expected her to turn down my proposition and if she was all over the media because she was having dinner with me she’d...
Regret saying yes, a quiet voice echoed in my head. And for the first time in a long time, I actually cared what someone thought of me.
The bartender was shaking so hard that I was gonna have to slurp the scotch from the bar top, so I held up a hand to stop her. “Actually, I’m good.” Her Bambi eyes drowned, worry making her chew her bottom lip like I was about to fire her. “It’s cool, my-” I hesitated.
What should I call her? ‘Friend’ seemed a little too watered down. ‘Lover’ seemed a little too optimistic. ‘Woman’ seemed a little too right, and that freaked me out.
“She’ll be here any minute.” I said, being vague and up-ing the awkward by adding an uncomfortable chuckle to the end. “Then you can hit the road.”
I’d meant it as a joke, but she went so pale that her complexion was practically the same color as her ivory blouse. “Y-Yes sir.” Before I could tell her I was just messing with her, she darted to the opposite end of the bar and made herself look busy.
Maybe you’re not nearly as charming as you think you are, I thought to myself, staring at the ice in my glass. I was definitely 0 for 3 with Natalee. Strike 1: New Year’s Eve. Strike 2: fucking Scarlet in the bathroom and Natalee overhearing it. Strike 3: giving in to the devil on my shoulder and sharing the newlywed’s good news. I was lucky that she said yes. I deserved to have her flake.
And then the door creaked open.
Immediately, the bartender dropped what she was doing and hustled out the back door without a word.
Heels clicked against the hardwood floor behind me and I wished I’d had that second drink after all.
I inhaled, put my game face on, then pivoted my chair toward the woman that I’d been dumb enough to forget.
I’d be damned if I let it happen again.
If I disappointed her again.
I’d told myself that I wouldn’t do what she expected from here on out, which meant that I wouldn’t stare at her chest or stare at her in a way that made it evident that I was thinking about her naked. But when I saw the dress, with her pale breasts all but calling out to me, to my mouth, to my hands, I had to work really hard to stay on my best behavior.
I let my eyes flit over delights I hoped I had the pleasure of exploring, meeting her glowing emerald gaze. Her lips confirmed that she knew what I really wanted to be looking at.
“Like what you see?” she taunted me, pointedly crossing her arms, which just pushed me closer to the point of no return. The point where I’d give in to the lust that was making it hard to behave myself. I’d sweep her up, pouty lips, stubbornness and all, and show her just how sorry I was for ever letting her get away.
“Absolutely.” I answered smoothly. I even managed to slide from the barstool and stride behind the bar like adding distance between us wasn’t killing me. I braced my hands on the glossy bar top and ignored my growing hard-on.
Keep it respectful, Jason. Get to know her. Woo her. Then maybe you can bend her over and-
She let out an unceremonious scoff, but she didn’t make a beeline for the exit. She didn’t budge from where she’d planted herself, or drop her defensive stature, either.
“Have a seat,” I offered, nodding at the stools.
She pursed her lips like she was debating it. Realizing that we were at a crossroads and the next move was hers. She slowly lowered her arms, pulling at her dress like she was attempting to make herself respectable. Respectability was boring. And I had a feeling that underneath it all, she agreed.
“You’re the boss,” she muttered, just loud enough for me to catch it. She hopped up on the stool and leaned forward. She was more playful than I thought, a predator in her own right, and it had nothing to do with the dress. It was the way she delicately swept her hair over one shoulder and dared me to do what we both wanted to do. A thin black choker accentuated her swan-like neck, and I couldn’t help but imagine her wearing the choker...and nothing else.
I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the night we met. The first time I touched her. I remembered how she’d trembled when my lips danced over the spot just beneath her ear. Men without finesse, in a hurry to get to the prize, would have gone right for the nape of her neck. Something pulled me to the place in between, and from the way her body hummed against my lips, I’d known I’d chosen correctly.
I swallowed the urge to provoke her. Because if I was truly the boss, and she was letting me be in charge, I was down for an erotic game of Simon Says.
And my first order would have her unzipping that dress, letting me feast on every beautiful part of her.
“What can I get you?” I asked, purposefully injecting enough sex in my voice to let her know that everything was on the menu.
She arched an eyebrow. “Trying to get me all liquored up so you can take advantage of me? Is that your master plan?”
In that moment, I decided to thro
w every bit of caution to the wind and lay it all out there.
“Natalee, my master plan is to have you, every which way. And I can do so without the assistance of alcohol.”
Even in the shadows, I saw her hitch her breath, her cheeks warming, making me want to take her face in my hands and feel the heat radiate from her skin for myself.
“And when I have you,” I continued, showing off my skills by spinning the glass in my hand without dropping it. “You will beg me for it.”
“Beg you for what?” Her voice was hoarse with curiosity. With want.
I made her wait, filling two glasses with fresh ice. Thinking about tracing the line of her neck with one of the cubes.
“Every inch,” I finished finally.
My words had immediate impact because her eyes went round, like they had when she’d stared at my cock before the wedding.
Stroking it.
Craving it.
She caught herself, clearing her throat. “You’re pretty sure of yourself, Jason.” She didn’t leave any room for a comeback. “I’ll have a soda water and lime.”
“Coming right up,” I grinned.
The air was thick with both of us holding back. I knew what I wanted, and I was fairly sure she wanted the same thing, but if there was one thing I truly desired, more than her body, it was to show her I was more than your garden variety prick.
I plunked down her drink, taming the beast inside. “Probably not as delicious as what comes out of Madison Creations’ bakery, but pretty close.”
She flashed me the tiniest smile before she covered it with the rim of her glass. “If I’m not careful, you'll charm the pants right off me, huh?”
“An easy task, since you didn’t bother with wearing pants this time,” I winked.
“Clearly a mistake on my part.” Her eyes smoldered, eating me up. Making me wonder if I should say ‘fuck it’ and leave the wooing for some other time.
“You don’t make mistakes.” I let her know that I was paying attention. That even though we were still getting to know each other, I knew enough to speak on that with authority.
I followed her with my eyes as she slipped from the stool and started meandering around the room, pausing at the lounge area.
“How about you, Jason?” She countered softly. “Do you make mistakes?”
Now I was at a crossroads. I could make a gamble; make a suggestion that could offend her, or worse, result in her telling me to go fuck myself...which would suck because I’d much rather fuck her.
The safe bet was to stay playful. To not pull us back to the past and my behavior. It would just remind her that she took a huge, and probably unwise chance by meeting me.
But I didn’t become successful by playing it safe.
“Not usually,” I answered, finding her eyes in the dark. “Though I made a huge one on New Year’s Eve.”
“Yes, you did,” she nodded, not letting me off the hook.
“And I don’t plan on making another by not kissing you.”
I was being bold, but that saying about fortune favoring the bold rang in my head...and I wasn’t thinking about money. There was something about her—and I would be damned if I let one more minute pass without my lips on hers.
I erased the distance between us, but I took my time, giving her ample opportunity to push me away.
She didn’t.
Her eyes pulled me closer.
I rounded her waist, admiring her beauty in the candlelight. I leaned down, sweeping my fingertips across her jaw, holding her chin steady. I wanted to devour her, but I decided to give her an out.
“I’m going to kiss you.” My lips hovered above hers. We breathed the same air, tinged with defiance, need, lime, the faint hint of scotch and peppermint. Her eyes were hooded when she said the last thing I expected.
“No, I’m going to kiss you.”
She roped her arm around my neck and snatched me the rest of the way, forcing her mouth on mine. Our teeth clashed as we inhaled each other, both of us hungry, starved for this.
Her tongue dashed between my parted lips. Tasting me this time. Giving me a kiss, the kiss, the one we should have had the night we met, before I decided to have my dessert first.
Though Natalee was making it abundantly clear that every part of her was decadent, from head to toe.
I was used to directing, guiding things when I was with a woman, but she was leading us to the pillows. We parted ways, just long enough for her to push me backward, and I fell against the cushions. She climbed on top of me, grinding her hips as she raked her nails down my chest, undoing my buttons. Her lips fell on my skin. Gliding over the tight muscles, moaning her approval.
I reached for her hips, pulling up the hem of her dress, wanting to show her that I couldn’t keep my hands to myself either if it wasn’t obvious, but she smacked my hand away.
“Not tonight, Jason,” she purred as she started in on my belt. She knew me too well, finding the condom in my pocket and tearing it open with her teeth. She was an animal, hungry for me, and I loved it. “Tonight, I’m doing the taking.”
I hadn’t had enough to drink to even be buzzed, but I was drunk off her. Feeling like I was in some alternate universe, and I wanted to stay awhile.
Maybe even forev-
“Holy shit!” I bellowed as she took my swollen length in her mouth. She didn’t take all of it, but she took enough that I had to pace myself. Breathe in and out as she worked her tongue over my shaft, clutching my balls as she sucked me like a woman possessed.
Chest heaving up and down, she sat up, her green eyes wild with desire as she rolled the condom over my erect length.
Without warning, without waiting, she held me steady and impaled herself.
I threw my head back, completely lost in the sensation of her. She wrapped me in her velvet heat, her body squeezing every inch of me as she danced on me. Bounced on me. Took what she wanted while she scratched her nails down my bare chest like she wanted to draw blood. Like she was making me pay for the past, but was in a hurry to put it all behind us and just give in.
She made sounds that set the air around us ablaze.
The moment I felt her climax, her rhythm becoming erratic and feral, head tossed back in abandon, I let go. Truth be told, I didn’t have a choice.
How could I not?
I’d lost count of how many times I’d fucked someone, but this was a first.
The first time a woman had taken what she wanted.
When our eyes met, both of us struggling to catch our breath, I knew it was a first for her, too.
She climbed off wordlessly, shimmying her dress back down over her delicious hips.
I was hungry for more, but I needed some fuel in the form of food first. “You hungry, Natalee? I could-”
“Actually, I’m gonna head home. Thanks, though!”
She said it so brightly, so dismissively, that it was like a blow to the chest.
Before I could ask her if she was kidding, she confirmed my suspicions by marching out as swiftly as she’d marched in, leaving the door open.
Was this what she felt like that night?
Like she’d experienced something she’d never experienced before, then had every hope, every possibility snatched away without explanation?
Well, there was one key difference between her confusion and my current state.
I knew exactly why she left, and all it would take was looking in a mirror.
She decided I wasn’t worth the risk. Worth the trouble. The reasons why this was a good idea, including the electric sexual chemistry we had, wasn’t worth sticking around for after that itch was scratched.
And it was just what I deserved.
I folded my hands behind my head, realizing I had a choice.
Chalk it up to karma being a bitch and let her go, or I could show her that I was more than a s.o.b. with a nice package.
I made up my mind before I even buttoned my fly.
I’ll show her that even a jerk
could be worthy of her.
~
Thank you for taking the time to read The Sweetest Jerk #1. Please consider leaving a review. xoxo, AC
The Sweetest Jerk Series
~
The Sweetest Jerk #1: January 30
The Sweetest Jerk #2: February 13
The Sweetest Jerk #3: February 27
About the Author
Ava Claire is a sucker for Alpha males and happily ever afters. When not putting pen to paper or glued to her e-reader, Ava likes road tripping, karaoke, vintage fashion, and fantasizing about her favorite book boyfriends.
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Blog: http://avaclaireromantica.blogspot.com
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Twitter: @avaclairewrites
Stay tuned to my blog for up to date information on my works in progress and release schedules!
