by Meghan Quinn
“Why do you say that with a negative tone?”
“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “Because you like controlling my life.”
Disappointment ran through me, as I saw for the first time how she truly saw me as a person. She didn’t see me as a protector or someone who truly cared about her soul. No, she saw me as a controlling man, who wanted nothing more than to tell her what do in her life.
“I see,” I nodded, while I refrained from getting out of the bed and putting my clothes back on. If I wanted Goldie in my life, then I was going to have to fight for her, in every aspect of our lives.
“Am I wrong?”
“Yes, Little One. I’m afraid you are. I don’t want to control your life; I want to protect you, to take care of you, to erase any worry that might come across that beautiful face of yours.”
“I don’t want to talk about that right now.”
“Why? Do you not believe me?” I asked, while slightly running my thumb up and down on the side of her hip.
“I do, that’s the problem. I’m still mad at you, remember?” she scrunched her nose all cute like, making the need to kiss her that much stronger.
Clearing my throat, I nodded and asked, “Then, what do you want to talk about, Little One?”
She pondered my question before answering. “Tell me about Kace as a kid. Was he a trouble maker?”
I didn’t think I could be caught more off guard. Out of all the questions she could ask me, I didn’t think she would ask about Kace. I didn’t like it one bit, her wanting to know more about Kace. She was supposed to want to learn about me, not the man who was stiff competition for Goldie’s heart.
“Didn’t think you were going to ask about Kace,” I responded, trying not to sound sour.
“Why not? The man is so mysterious, so hot. If he was a main character in a book, I would want to know all about him. He’s always brooding and umm, hello, he’s an ex-boxer; if that doesn’t scream panty pudding, then I don’t know what does. I want to know everything about the man, what makes him tick. So, tell me, what was he like as a kid?”
Goldie’s eyes lit up as she spoke of Kace, making me that much more jealous.
Trying not to blow up, I shifted on the bed, trying to get comfortable. This was not the way I’d envisioned my night.
“Well…”
I was about to tell her Kace was an ass most of his life, until she threw her head back and laughed, making the most amazingly beautiful sound slip from her lips. I watched as the column of her neck moved up and down with her laughter, enticing me to run my tongue along it, to take what I’ve wanted since the first moment I met her.
She was so fucking mine.
“Why are you laughing?” I asked, enjoying her laugh too much.
She looked at me with tears in her eyes, tears of laughter, and said, “Oh, my God, you should have seen the look on your face.” With a scrunched up face and a deep southern voice, she said, “I’m Jett Colby and I’m mad because the girl I like wants to talk about another man.” She threw her head back and laughed some more, hopefully more at her terrible impression of me than at my expense. A man could only hope.
“Oh, you’re too easy,” she said, waving her hand in front of her face. “If I knew life was going to be this much fun dating a dominant man, I would have dated one a while ago. You can fuck around with them so easily.”
Damn was she right. One thing that didn’t go my way, and I was ready to have a coronary over it.
Pulling her in closer, I rested my forehead on hers and lined our bodies up properly while I stared into her eyes.
“Does that mean we’re dating?” I asked, while moving my hand to her back and lightly stroking her bare skin. I felt her breathing grow heavier with every stroke, making me an extremely satisfied man.
“Umm, maybe,” she said, while licking her lips and looking at mine.
Temptress, but hell if I was going to make the first move.
“Do you know why it’s so much fun dating someone like you?”
“Why?” she asked, pulling her eyes away from my lips for a brief moment in time.
“Because, with one touch, you’re putty in my hands. I don’t have to do much, just a light graze or a soft whisper in your ear,” I said, while leaning forward, brushing my lips against her ear lobe.
“You really think it’s that easy?” she said, while her chest rose and fell at a rapid pace.
Stroking her cheek with my thumb, I answered, “Little One, I know it’s that easy.”
Just as I leaned forward, letting her know I would love to take her lips, I pulled away, causing her to groan out loud from my abandoned position.
“You’re a tease,” she complained, as she pushed my chest, trying to put distance between us, but I didn’t allow for it. No, I just pulled her in closer.
“If I’m a tease, then that means you wanted what I was offering. If that’s the case, Little One, all you have to do is ask.”
“Nice try, Jett. You’re not going to get into my pants that easily.”
I just nodded as I allowed my thumb to graze her bare skin, causing all kinds of emotions to run through her expressive eyes. Her body was heated and pouring into mine, making my job of not making the first move that much harder, but I was a man of my word. Even though she slowly moved closer to me, inch by little inch, I kept my mental distance and decided to focus on getting to know Goldie, on letting her get to know me.
Continuing to touch her in every way possible, I asked her, “So what do you want to know about me? I’m an open book, ask away.”
“Anything?” Her eyes lit up and I could see the inner cogs of her mind working, trying to come up with some of the juiciest and invasive questions to ask me.
“Easy now, I can see your mind is up to no good. Take it easy on me, Goldie, I’m new at this sharing thing.”
“Alright,” she smiled softly at me while pressing her hand to my cheek, a gesture that fucking melted me right into her damn palm. “Tell me about your mom.”
Fuck, she wasn’t going to take it easy at all. It was time to man up.
“My mom was a beautiful woman, who was dealt a bad hand in life. She fell in love with my father, unfortunately, and was manipulated by him until my father got what he wanted, a son to pass his enterprise onto. After I was born, my dad decided he didn’t need my mom anymore, divorced her, and proved her to be unstable, so my dad gained custody of me. I was torn away from her right after birth and raised by Miss Mary.”
“Oh, my God,” Goldie said in but a whisper. “I can’t imagine having my baby taken away from me like that. Your poor mother. Did she at least get a good settlement?”
“No,” I shook my head. “She was left with nothing and had to fend for herself; she wound up trying to make a living on Bourbon Street, but wasn’t too successful. She wound up with AIDS and died right after I was able to escape my father’s wrath. She spent her last days with me in the Lafayette Club, enjoying the sunshine and my company.”
A small tear rolled down Goldie’s cheek as she looked at me with sincerity.
“That is so sad.”
I wiped the tear from her cheek and agreed with her. “It is; that’s why I created the Lafayette Club, to seek justice for women like my mother, to give them a second chance. I like to think I brought some honor to her.”
“You have,” Goldie agreed. “So, Miss Mary would help you see your mom when your dad was gone? Were you able to give her money?”
“No, my dad kept a tight hold on the money I earned, said I would appreciate it when I was older. So, instead, I would take my mom food and anything she could possibly pawn without my dad noticing. It helped a little, but she still lived in a freezing cold apartment and went hungry most nights.” I took a second to breathe as a tight ball formed in my throat. I couldn’t think about my mom this much; the thought of her suffering while I was provided for still gutted me to this day.
“Why would your dad do something like that?”
<
br /> “Because he’s heartless. He doesn’t care about anyone but himself and the power of controlling what’s important to him. I told you he was a bad man, Goldie, do you understand now?”
“I do,” she said softly.
“He taught me how to be ruthless, how to take advantage of those weaker than me, and he taught me how to turn my heart into a cold abyss of darkness. Emotions are not my thing. I’m not very good at expressing myself or accepting compliments. I have a hard time relating to people and can be just as ruthless sometimes when it’s something I want.”
My thumb ran up her side to her face, where I slowly stroked her bottom lip. “I want to give you everything you want, Goldie. I want to please you, to protect you, but I know there are aspects about me that are rougher around the edges than others. You deserve more than me, your heart deserves to be paired with one that is full and bright, one that matches yours, not a cold black heart like mine.”
“But, it’s not black, Jett,” she replied, while her small hand pressed against my chest, right above my heart. “You think it’s black, but it’s the furthest thing from it. You might have a hard time expressing yourself, but you do a damn fine job expressing who you are through your actions. You’ve proven to be a rescuer…an angel to me and the girls and even Diego. You save people, Jett. As much as you want to deny it, you are full of love, you’re a hero…”
“No,” I shook my head. “I’m not a hero, I’m just…” my words fell short at Goldie’s lips on mine.
Her hands encased my face as her body slowly moved on top of mine and her lips gently nipped at mine.
There was only so much a man could take before he snapped, and having Goldie’s small body on top of mine was my snapping point.
Instinctively, my hands found her hips where her shirt had risen from her movements, giving me a great expanse of skin to press my hands against. She was so soft…delicate but hard at the same time. She didn’t take crap from anyone, especially me. She was a stark contradiction of soft and hard, something I loved about her.
She wiggled on top of me just enough so our bodies were directly in line with each other and her hands never left my face as she deepened our kiss. Every instinct in my body wanted to push her off of me and into the mattress, to take over the intimate moment, but I held back, I allowed her to control the situation, something that was entirely new to me, but worth it if it meant I had my Little One in my arms.
Sadly, she pulled away and stared down at me, her eyes searching mine for some kind of indication of what just happened, what she was doing on top of me. The moment she realized what she was doing, she quickly tried to retreat, but I stopped her, I couldn’t help it, I wanted to have her warmth spread across me for a few moments longer.
“Please, don’t go,” I asked. “You don’t have to kiss me, but please just let me feel your skin on mine for a moment longer.”
With understanding, she nodded and rested her head on my chest, while her fingers lightly stroked the spot above my heart. My hand found her hair and played with the silky strands while we held each other, our breathing falling in step with each other.
“Thank you,” I whispered, grateful for the moment she was granting me.
27
“My Heart Is Open”
Goldie
Yup, I was seconds away from fucking the man I was laying on top of. My legs quivered as I tried to keep them from straddling him and taking what I wanted.
Did he really think he could get away with telling me that story about his mom and not get fucked? I mean, damn, my heart ripped right out of my chest for his mom, for the little boy who deserved his mom, who deserved the love he would have gotten from her.
I needed to touch him, to show him how much he’s loved, how much of an amazing man he was, a man he didn’t believe he was himself. The only way I knew how to do that was to kiss every inch of him, to show him with my body that he was loved, that he was cherished, but I’d told myself I wasn’t going to have sex with him.
I couldn’t.
What kind of woman would that make me look like? A hussy…that was for damn sure, but fuck, he way too damn sexy. The moment he stripped down to his briefs, I knew I was in trouble. I was pretty sure that since we’ve been apart, he’s become more ripped and more defined. I’ve never been able to truly resist him, and now with this whole sensitive side of him showing…I was so fucking gone.
His need to feel my skin touch his was something he’s needed from the very beginning, and I know it’s because he feels the closest when our bodies are touching so intimately, but right now, all it was doing was turning me on even more.
I was a sexual being and not being able to ride the fucking bologna pony to pleasure town was torture; it actually made it hard for me to breathe.
Did I say hard to breathe, no, I meant it made it hard to keep my finger out of my vagina.
Fuck, I was so horny, and being on top of Jett, with his hand stroking my hair and him just breathing me in had my pussy wetter than a fucking typhoon blowing up a flesh valley. My hip occasionally would rub against his, and I could feel his hardness, his beautiful cock against my thigh. What I wouldn’t give to see that cock right now, to feel it in my hands, to torture him with my fingers, with my tongue.
It would be so easy, I would just start lightly grazing him, letting him know that, yeah, I was interested. Maybe tease him a little by wrapping my fingers all the way around his cock, but then pulling away to keep him on his toes. But, fuck, I couldn’t pull away for too long because I wouldn’t be able to stay away. So, I would return, but this time, I would apply more pressure, running my fingers along the veins that would be now showing from how turned on he was. I would…
“Goldie,” he whispered in a strained voice. “What are you doing?”
“Laying here, what are you doing?” I asked, confused as to why all of a sudden his body was stiff.
“I’m wondering why your fingers are wrapped around my cock.”
Testing my left hand, I felt it under my body out of the danger zone, but when I went to locate my right hand, I found it under Jett’s briefs, squeezing his cock.
“Jesus,” I muttered, as I pulled my hand away and reprimanded my rogue appendage for misbehaving. “Umm, just making sure you still had a dick. It’s been some time, you know, just wanted to make sure things didn’t fall off,” I mumbled, as I scooted off of him and back to my side of the bed.
Skin on skin contact was a bad idea. No, it was the worst idea in the world because right now, every last inch of me was tingling, my hands were itching to go back into the dark cave of Jett’s briefs, to test his cock one more time, to see if it was just as hard as I thought it was.
Instead of turning toward him, I flipped on my back and stared at the ceiling, waiting for him to say something. He shifted on the bed and drew closer; he knew exactly what he was doing, he was enticing me, trying to get me to crack.
It was working.
He smelled so good, like he took a two hour bath in pheromones and forgot to dry off. The urge to hump his leg, to drool all over his chest, to stuff his cock in every orifice I had, including my belly button was overpowering. Something was going to happen; the pull was too strong. I needed something from him, a little touch, a little taste. My pussy was begging for it.
“Can you not be so close to me?” I snapped, while I pulled on the blankets and wrapped them up around my chin to try to block the delicious smell of the man and keep a protective blanket layer between us. I practically swaddled myself to keep from having any more villainous hand expeditions.
Fucking phalanges, can’t trust them, can’t live without them.
“I’m sorry, do you want me to leave?” Jett asked, all sweet and concerned.
I wanted to flip him off, to punch him in the crotch, and kick him square on the shin.
No, I didn’t want him to leave. That would be saying, “No, ma’am, I don’t want the corn dog that’s made out of gold,” or something to that effect.
What I wanted was for him to have never fucked things up between us because if he was able to control his temper, his psychotic-ness, then we wouldn’t be in this mess. I wouldn’t be sexually frustrated, and I wouldn’t be wavering between wanting to poke him with a fire stick and letting him poke me with his stick.
What a predicament.
Without saying another word, Jett started to get out of the bed, making me want to scream at the absurdity of the situation.
“Ugh, don’t fucking go,” I said in an annoyed tone.
“That’s convincing,” Jett responded with a half-smile.
“Stop it, just stop it,” I demanded, while poking him in the chest. “God, I’m so annoyed with you right now. You’re acting all sweet when I need to be mad at you. I want to be mad at you.”
“But, you’re not…”
“I am! It’s just that, my horniness is taking over. I can’t think clearly when your rock hard body is pressed against mine. Do you really think that’s fair, Jett?”
“Fair? Are you serious right now? You’re wearing a thin tank top with no bra and you were just laying on top of me. I could feel every movement of your nipple against my chest, and then you go and grab my dick like you’re digging around for gold. Do you think that’s fair?”
“Oh, poor rich billionaire, a girl was fondling your dick,” I said in a smarmy voice. “Grow a real problem.”
“You’re quite sassy tonight.”
“No, Jett. I’m horny,” I sat up and pulled the sheets down. I pointed at my crotch and said, “There is a dried up lady cactus down there; she hasn’t been cleaned out and rehydrated in weeks. She’s desperate.”
“What do you want me to do about it?” he said, a smirk playing on his lips.
Refraining from smacking him on the head, I held my hands down and said, “Oh, you’re just enjoying this all too much, aren’t you?”
“Just a little,” he admitted, but held up his hands before I could go bat shit crazy on his ass. “I only admit to that because, ever since I met you, you’ve been a maneater, teasing me, disobeying me, making my life that much more difficult in the bedroom, so it’s a fresh breath of air to see you struggle.”