“Right now I’m standing in my shower under freezing water with a smelly girl.” He reached up and adjusted the blasts to give them warm water. Jackson stepped out to get a clean cloth and returned to her. Her skin flushed with the steam pouring through the glass enclosed shower.
“I mean what are you doing home?”
He chuckled. “I didn’t know I needed permission to come to my house.” He grabbed his body wash and lathered up the cloth.
“I swear I’m going to kill you for tossing me in a cold shower.” Anger blazed in her flushed face as she stared him down.
“That’s good then, means you’re no longer cowering in your stupid self-pity party.”
“What, are you going to do with that?” She eyed him nervously, ignoring his words.
“Well, I figured your hands must be broken or something so I’d wash you, since you can’t do so yourself.”
“Uh-uh, no way. Give me that.” She tugged at the sudsy cloth in his hand, his gaze dropping to her lush breasts.
“Nice.” He winked at the way they bounced with her efforts to take the wash rag. He let her have the wet cloth and watched the recoil, suds covering her chin, dripping down her neck, between the valley of her tits, and the path downward. Damn she was in great shape.
“Get. Out.” She pointed to the door, her face flushing a deep red.
“I don’t mind helping, not at all.” The sheer stubbornness in her glare told to him to surrender. With a sigh, he stepped out of the stall. “Get clean. We’ll talk after you’re done.”
“Fine. Privacy would be nice. Please close the door behind you.”
“See you soon.” He stripped off his clothes on the other side, knowing she had a direct view of him. His dick jerked in the cool air. At her gasp, he noticed her riveted gaze stayed on his Prince Albert and beads. He quirked a brow at her, ready to answer any questions she might have. “Done staring at my dick?” The crass words caused her head to jerk and her gaze to land on his.
“Could you be more of an asshole?”
He smirked in response, snagged a towel and walked into his bedroom. Carlie’s continued rant echoed in his bathroom, the sound carrying into his master bedroom.
“Perfect princess, you know this is who I am and you still wanted to jump my bones.”
“I hate that nickname. Whatever. I don’t want to jump anything on you.”
While she screamed expletives at him from the other side of the door in a righteous fit of temper, he dried off and put on a fresh pair of jeans and a T-shirt, impressed that she knew such a dirty range of swear words, and used them. Ten minutes later, Carlie emerged with a huge fluffy towel around her lithe body.
“Let’s get one thing straight. I’m not a new notch for your bedpost, don’t ever strip me naked again. I made a stupid drunken comment months ago that will not happen in this lifetime. Got it? Better yet maybe you should move to the other room while you’re here.”
“Don’t hole yourself in my bedroom like a hoarder,” he snapped back, grabbed his trashcan from the bedside and began tossing wrappers and leftover crap inside. He stopped to gift her with a glare. “This is my room. You don’t dictate where I will or won’t sleep in my fucking house, princess. Got it?” He resumed his task and counted backward from twenty to cool his temper. The heady scent of innocence dripped from her delectable body, driving him mad. He needed his hands occupied to prevent him from lashing out at her in sexual frustration.
“I’m sorry. I meant to clean this up. I’ve just, been—this week has been unbearable. I’m not a slob, or messy. I mean I don’t even normally eat this crap.” She looked like a moping little kitten. Sadness poured from her.
Jackson set the container down and put his hands through his hair, anything to keep from grabbing and comforting her.
“Why don’t you get dressed while I finish cleaning this up. You can take a walk to clear your head. Some fresh air will make you feel better.” He moved over to his bay windows and opened them to let the ocean breeze into the room. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched her hurry to dress to prevent him from seeing too much. What was she thinking? He’d seen all of her in the shower as he undressed her.
“Ouch.”
When he glanced up at her, he fought from laughing at the comb stuck in her hair and her efforts in freeing the plastic teeth failing miserably. “C’mere.” Jackson sat down on the clean edge of his bed and moved her between his thighs. “Don’t tell anyone I know how to do this okay, you’d ruin my reputation.”
“Kay.” She sat before him.
As his mom’s health declined, he brushed and plaited her hair for her when she was too weak to do so herself. During their time, she’d regaled him with memories of them when he was a toddler, wanting him to remember the important memories of them to her. All these years later, her death still crushed him, he missed her smile, her smell and her optimism. Even after she knew she was terminal she embraced life like death was nothing to worry about, that everything would be all right. In silence, he worked Carlie’s hair in small sections, untangling the mane with gentle hands. His palm brushed her neck, at the contact, her pulse quickened against him.
“I’m sorry for stinking up your room.”
“Just don’t do it again.” Jackson worked the last section of her hair and massaged her scalp, making her moan. Fantasies began to play in his head. Curtailing them, he worked his fingers one last time through her tresses, and then handed her the comb. “I think you’re all good now.”
“Thank you.” She scooted back and turned to face him, tucking her feet in Indian style. “How do you know how to do this? I can’t imagine with your revolving door of one night stands you’d have girls waiting around to have their hair brushed.”
“Women, not girls, love to be petted.” Jackson stood from the bed and held his hand out to her. He forgot how quick she flipped from a warm personality to ice cold at times.
“I don’t think whores constitute as women.” Carlie brushed off his assistance with snooty attitude, making being an asshole to her a lot easier.
He leaned into her personal space, their noses almost touching. “How much did you make on that shoot? What was your price? Girls, women of legal age throw themselves at me. I give them what they want free of charge.” Her sudden indrawn breath and crushed expression tugged at his heart. He pushed down the useless emotions, backed off and began picking up the rest of the trash in his room.
“God, Jackson, what a low blow. I can’t believe you went to that level.” Her temper flared as she climbed off the bed and stomped out, slamming the door for good measure.
Good. With her gone, he could concentrate on getting her scent and haunting sadness out of his mind. Though the thick tension in the air left with her, he hadn’t meant to go that far goading her, she just made doing it so much fun and he’d wanted to get her mind off her issues. Well, until that uppity snotty attitude came barreling out of her mouth. Not to mention, knocking her down a peg gave him pleasure. He succeeded but wondered at what price.
She crossed his line of vision, heading down toward the water, the fresh breeze fanning her hair out around her. The sun gleamed, kissing her sweet skin. Fuck, he wanted her in a bad way, gut deep. Being around her, verbally sparring or otherwise, left him feeling off balance. Just as he tossed the rest of the garbage out, his cell rang.
“What?” he barked. His father’s voice snapped at him from the other side. Jackson clenched the phone in his ear wanting nothing more than to throw it against the wall.
“I heard you’re home. I hope this means you’re done playing around with your friends and are ready to be a responsible man.”
“I don’t consider what I love doing, playing around, Dad. I earn more income sleeping than you do in a twenty-four hour period. We’re on the top of the charts. When are you going to understand this is my life?”
“When you grasp that you have a future and quit throwing away your inheritance. I could use you on the board for the
resorts and your aunt could use you in New York running the restaurant instead of delegating and outsourcing. It’s bad enough you quit classical piano and threw away your chance at Julliard.”
“Mom died. What did you expect? That I’d have come back here after living with you? Why would I attend a top notch school of arts when I was already on my way to being a rock star?”
“Julliard would’ve given you a respectable career, not made you this womanizing, whoring, boozing man you’ve become.”
“That’s rich, Dad, coming from you. No disrespect, but you taught me how to whore around. I have company, I don’t have time for this, Senior.”
“This conversation isn’t over, son.” His father disconnected and he tossed his phone on the bed. Why did they have the same conversation every time? His dad thought he’d budge. Not likely. Playing with his friends was his only way out of hell on earth. The only joy he found after losing his mom and being forced to move across the country to a man who only blessed him with his presence when it was beneficial for him. His dad never took the time to see what work he did at the New York restaurant. He ran it from his cell phone and laptop, with quick flights home when the need arose. When you owned a business delegating was a must. He couldn’t play and run the place his mom left him at the same time. What the fuck did everyone expect of him?
What a joke. So what if the public saw him as a womanizing playboy? Their ignorance was his mask. No one ever looked deep enough to see he ran another business and did philanthropic work. He let out a derisive snort and took a calming breath. With amends to make, the last thing he needed was to let his father ruin his day. In silence, he finished picking up his bedroom, stripped his bed down to the mattress, then trekked across the house to the laundry room and placed them in the front loading washer. The walk back gave him more time to cool off and compartmentalize.
Jackson glanced out the back window to where Carlie stood facing the ocean. He wondered if she was lost in thought or crying, the later brought back feelings of remorse for unleashing his temper at her. With a sigh, he rubbed his nape and let himself out the back door.
Seaweed and salty air washed over him, enveloping him in peace. Tucking his hands in his pockets, he strode toward her and stopped behind her.
“Princess.”
“Leave me alone, Jackson.” Her stance didn’t change, she just stared out at the choppy waters.
“I’m sorry, princess. Truly.”
“With anyone else I’d have laughed that insult off, but you…” She turned to face him giving him full view of her puffy eyes. He wanted to pull her in his arms and soothe the hurt he’d caused.
“You know me, Carlie. All we do is argue, and we both know why. You push all of my buttons on purpose. There’s always been this war brewing between us whenever we’re in each other’s space for too long.”
“I know. You were nice enough to help me with my hair and I went off the deep end. You make me crazy too. I wish I knew why.”
Attraction, magnetizing attraction. In her innocence, she didn’t know what it was, but he did. “How about we call a truce while you’re here. I’ll try to be better if you will do the same.” He reached out and tugged her hand into his. “Come on, it’ll be like old times at your parents’ house. We can go into town and go bowling or do something just as horrible so you have payback for what I said. Anything you want to do.”
“Miniature golf?”
Jackson groaned. “Bowling?”
“Bowling and karaoke and you have to sing whatever song I pick off key, rock star.”
“Okay.” What possessed him to say yes to bowling and karaoke? To see the flash of happiness, the smile come back to her face. “I’ll make plans for dinner first.”
“Why, Jackson, are you taking me out on a date?”
The laughter in her voice gave him joy. He grinned. “I only wine and dine those who are important.” He wouldn’t add he’d use the opportunity to observe his staff while he was in the area. Jackson withdrew his phone and scrolled the speed dial list, then hit option two.
“Chez Debuque. This is Chantal, how may I help you today?”
“Good evening, Chantal. This is Jackson Laurant. I’ll be bringing a guest to the restaurant in a short while, please have my private dining area ready for my arrival.”
“Yes, sir, it will be a pleasure to see you again. Will there be anything special we need to order for you and your date?”
“My date is vegetarian. Make sure there are enough options available for her to choose from. What I don’t want is to hear we’re out of that dish, and also fetch one of my grandfather’s bottles of wine from my personal wine cellar.”
“Yes, sir. We look forward to pleasing you.”
I’m sure you do. He’d fended off her advances for the past few years as he grew into the position to run the place. The last thing he needed was a sexual harassment charge. Finding companionship with any female attached to the restaurants was a headache he’d rather avoid. “Thanks, Chantal, see you soon.” He ended the call and shoved his phone into his pocket.
“Okay, mister fancy pants. I have to dive into some luggage to find the perfect dress to wear. See you in a few hours.” Carlie threw her arms around his neck and kissed him on the cheek. Pleasantly surprised, he watched her walk past him toward the house.
“Hey, what was that for?”
“Sometimes you can be real sweet. I like that nice side of you.” She flashed him a megawatt grin that left him reeling for more of the sunshine dancing behind her eyes.
Nice, if only she knew the thoughts racing in his head. Thoughts of taking her on his desk, or in every room of his house, in every orifice. Shoving his dick in her mouth to silence the bitchy nature inside her, or a ball gag, although he’d rather shoot a load in her mouth and watch her swallow. Yeah, she may have been drunk when she was coerced into posing for that magazine, but they always say a drunk mind is an honest one. Therein lies the distinct possibility that she was hiding a sexy naughty side underneath that conservative appearance. The idea of exploring that side of her made his dick hard. For now he’d settle for dinner and taking her out on the town.
Bowling, he hadn’t been to the local place for years. Normally everyone bowled at Garrick’s. He pulled out his phone and searched for the local bowling alley, then tapped the numbers to place the call.
“I’d like to reserve a lane for cosmic bowling from ten til close. Is there open Karaoke on the bar and grill side?”
“Yes, sir. We do have both. I’ll need a credit card to reserve the lane.”
Jackson rattled his information. The young girl squealed in excitement. “Jessie, let’s not tell the whole world I’m coming okay. I’m bringing a date. For your silence I’ll take down your information and get you two front row tickets and a backstage pass to our next show.”
“Okay. Um. So I’ll just write down Jack Stone. You can pay cash when you get here. I won’t use your credit card because everyone who works with me will know.” He noticed her hushed tone.
“Thank you for your discretion.”
A sound on the stairs grabbed his attention. He pocketed his phone and took in the worried expression on Carlie’s face. He wanted the sunshine back. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t have anything to wear out to dinner. I thought I had at least one dress that surv—I mean packed. But I don’t.”
Jackson quirked a brow. “I know you and your sister shop like there’s no tomorrow and always have. I also know you packed everything but I didn’t see much here, so where are all your belongings?”
Carlie opened her mouth and slammed her lips shut. “It’s embarrassing really.”
“Princess, I’m not going to ask again. I’ll call the school.”
“It’s really no big deal.” She looked to the ground. “Just take me shopping before our dinner date. I can bring a T-shirt and some jeans or something to bowl in. I get the inquisition enough from my father and brother, and you’re not either so quit.
”
“Then answer the fucking question. Where are all of your clothes?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” She stalled to see if he’d drop it.
He crossed his arms and waited.
“Ruined. The bitches in my sorority tossed my room and poured bleach and other nasty things over everything. They even ruined my favorite poster.” Her demeanor changed, talking about leaving her school visibly upset her. Jackson felt like an unconscionable bastard once again. The last thing he expected to hear was she’d been vandalized by her so-called friends.
“I’m sorry, princess. I hope you reported them.” He added that to his mental list of things to take care of regarding Carlie.
“I don’t know who all was in on it. I just want to forget about what happened, okay?”
“Okay, let me grab my sunglasses and change clothes.”
“All right, I’ll grab my purse. Jackson?”
“Yeah.”
“Please don’t tell anyone in my family what happened. It’s really embarrassing and having them upset about the magazine is enough.”
“I will handle the problem with your school.”
“Okay.”
“Princess, one more thing. After today I can’t promise the world won’t know you’re here with me. If that’s a problem, I can have sales associates bring the store to us.”
“No. That’s all right. I can’t hide forever and I’m feeling a bit cooped up.”
“Figured as much. I’ll be right back.” He headed upstairs to his now shared room, picked a long sleeve shirt, hat and pair of sunglasses, sprayed on his signature cologne, grabbed his wallet and shoved it into his back pocket, then linked the chain to his jeans. After picking up the phone near his bed and calling for his car service, he headed back downstairs.
Carlie waited for him in a Crimson Rage T-shirt, the band name stretched across her breasts. He whistled low, loving her toned body.
“I figured I’ll bowl in this and can just change for dinner while we’re out.”
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