"Sleeping," she wrote back immediately. "He went down with no trouble."
I exhaled a breath I didn't know I'd been holding. "I might be a little later coming home than normal." I wrote. "Please get some sleep and don't wait up for me."
The little bubble floated there for seemingly forever. What, was she composing a fucking novel over there?
But then it finally came, "Have fun," and I felt guilty as hell.
Then I peeked out and saw Jameson there waiting for me and the guilt melted away.
The minutes until the end of my shift dragged on into infinity and of course I got caught up in a question about scheduling at the end of my shift that ate up even more time. When I looked up again, the restaurant was empty and my stomach went splashing down to my toes to think that he had gotten bored and left me. I grabbed my purse and called out my goodbyes before pushing my way out the back entrance.
Outside of the restaurant, it was almost eerily silent. My ears were ringing from the clash of cutlery and the hum of conversation in the dining room, so stepping out into the silence was like being momentarily deafened. Out here, the only sound was that of the dying wind.
"There you are," Jameson said, slipping from the shadows.
I jumped. "You're way too light on your feet for such a big man," I complained.
"You think I'm big?" he teased, coming over to me and wrapping his arms around my waist.
I barely knew him. We'd shared one night together. But somehow when he folded me into his arms, it felt like I was coming home again. I sighed against his chest and then tilted my head up to look at him. "Hi," I breathed.
"I missed you," he murmured and my toes curled inside of my shoes because fuck it, I'd missed him too.
"Let's walk," he urged.
"Where are we going?"
"I don't know. Somewhere we're alone."
Licking my lips, I let him lead me around the side of the restaurant. I saw the light shining from underneath the door of Bee's bakery and told myself of all people she'd understand why I wasn't stopping in to see her right now.
Not tonight.
Above us, the dark humps of the mountains were silhouetted against the lighter indigo of the sky. Late summers like this, the sun didn't fully set until around 9:30, and along the western ridge, there was still a faint line of turquoise. The stars overhead twinkled in and out of the dark scudding clouds, winking like they had some kind of secret. There was a chill in the air. Summer was definitely sliding into autumn.
I hadn't realized I'd shivered until Jameson spoke. "Do you need a jacket?" he asked.
I looked over as he shrugged his arms out of his blazer. "Aren't you cold?" I asked as he wrapped it around my shoulders.
"No," he said holding out his arms. "Feel." I pressed my arms along his shoulders and laughed. It was true, he really was warm. And so was his jacket too, and there was something scandalous about being surrounded by his scent like this. I could feel the heaviness in the air, between us. Heavy with the promise of what we were here to do. He was leading me down to the water, someplace where we could be alone, and I knew why.
"See that log over there?" he asked as he led me over along the waterline. A fallen log had blended into the shadows, but somehow he saw it. He helped me up onto it and settled in with his arm around my shoulder.
This was...not what I was expecting. We sat there, listening to the dark water lapping quietly against the shore. Over our heads, an unseen nightbird gave a plaintive call.
"This is so pretty," he mused. "Do you come down here a lot?"
"No," I breathed. It was the truth. I never made the time to come down to the water's edge. Malcolm had never dug in the silty sand of the beach or dipped his fat little toes into the cold waters of Ganagua Lake. Why hadn't I done that? "I really should shouldn't I?" I asked.
He made it a small sound of agreement but didn't say anything, letting the silence speak for itself. Work-home-work, that's really all I did. I used to be so fun. I used to take chances, but that the chance I'd taken with Russell had left me with Malcolm and now I was afraid to take chances anymore. But Malcolm wasn't a bad thing, I reminded myself. So really...
"You don't get to have that much fun, do you?" Jameson said, interrupting my thoughts.
He stated this as a fact, and for a second I bristled, wanting to claim it was untrue. But then I sighed. "No. I don't."
"I used to come down here a lot when I lived here," he said suddenly. "Back when it was still the marina."
I whirled around and stared at him. "What?"
The full moon outlined his profile, highlighting the bridge of his nose as he nodded. "I lived here, well, just outside of here." He exhaled he turned and looked me in the eye. "I actually think I remember you."
My heart was thudding in my throat as I remembered how familiar he'd seemed when I first ran into him. Somehow it had slipped my mind. "I don't..." I started to say.
"You all called me Jay back then," he said with a chuckle. And I could see his nose wrinkling. "I hated it, but I was the new kid so I couldn't really say anything."
All at once it hit me. "You disappeared!" I suddenly said. "Jay Tellar, oh my God people said you got arrested or something!"
He laughed. "Did they? Well, I guess I really did have quite the reputation. No, my father got transferred." He paused for a second, tapping his fingers against the log. "Honestly, I think I lived here longest out of anywhere."
"And now you're leaving again tomorrow, huh?" I asked.
He took a deep breath and looked back out over the water. "Yeah," he said in his voice was filled with such heavy sadness that I didn't know what to do. Except it seemed like I did know what to do because all at once I was kissing him.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Jameson
There is a dream I have, over and over. It's not the same dream. There's always a different cast of characters, a different urgent matter that makes me sweat.
But there's always the same motif. I'm walking into a house I don't recognize, but I know that it's my home. I know that I can finally relax and sit down, because this house, this was the place I'd been searching for all along.
In the dream, I opened cupboards and immediately knew where everything was. I'd climb the stairs and instinctually turn the right way towards the bedroom. I'd lie down in the bed and the pillow was already molded to my head.
I'd never been there before, but I knew it was where I belonged.
Kissing her was like having that dream while I was awake.
The feel of her tongue sliding against mine made me groan. It was deliberate and on purpose. There was no way she could claim this was a mistake, as a drunken one-night stand in the back of the casino. She was kissing me, and I was kissing her, and even though we both knew there wasn't anything beyond this, we were still doing it. Maybe this time we were trying all the harder to make it last. To make it count.
I was seized with the sudden urge to have her, to see her whole body.
"I want to see you," I breathed against her skin, moving my lips lower. I delved my hands underneath her shirt, my fingers shaking as I slid the buttons through the holes. She looked down, watching as I undid them one by one, revealing first the white expanse of her stomach, then moving upwards and allowing her breasts to spill free.
Her hands immediately went to cover her stomach. "I have stretch marks," she grimaced.
"Where?" I asked, bending down and moving her hand to the side. "Here?" I asked as I kissed a thin silvery thread on her side. "Here?" I flicked my tongue in her navel before dragging my lips up to her breasts. "I don't see anything I don't want to see more of."
"I want to see you too," she gasped, sitting up.
I let her lift my shirt from my waistband and helped her yank it over my head without even bothering to unbutton it. Her small hand smoothed up my stomach, making me tense and then slid upward to press over my heart. Having her touch me, so slow and gentle, broke something wide open inside of me. I cau
ght her hand in mine, bringing it to my lips and nipping down on the tip of her finger.
She gasped a small sound that echoed in my ears, spinning me in circles. There was no denying it, I was completely fucked for this girl.
"Take down your hair," I told her, plucking at the knot on her head. "I've been dreaming about getting my hands in your hair since the moment I first saw you."
She grinned and lifted her hands to her head. "You put them in there, you might never get them back again," she warned.
I watched, breathless, as the riot of curls tumbled down past her shoulders. Her hair was longer than I'd realized and I reached out and tugged a strand down and watched it rebound. "That's fine with me," I told her, brushing it back from her face. She peered out at me from behind the glinting curtain and I felt my breath catch in my throat.
"What?" she asked, alarmed at the noise I'd just made.
"Nothing," I said. "I just realized that this is how I remember you. With your hair down like this." I grinned and closed my fist, tugging her head back. "When I saw you in the hallways I always thought of your hair as a mane. Like you were a lioness."
She bit her lip and tilted her head upward, catching my lower lip between her teeth and nipping down. I hissed as the sharp pain went hurtling right down to my toes. "Lionesses don't have manes," she whispered.
Holy fuck. This girl.
I grabbed a handful of that hair and yanked tighter, slamming my mouth down on hers. Her shocked gasp only made me wilder and I kissed her lips, her jaw, her throat, needing to hear her gasping again and again. Pressing my hand between her shoulder blades, I lowered her backwards as I kissed her still. Her shirt fell open, and she shifted, her breasts bobbing tantalizingly before my vision.
Mesmerized, I pressed my hands down on either side of her and moved over her, meaning to taste her skin, but the bark of the log dug into the skin of my hands. "No," I said. "This isn't right. I want to fuck you properly."
She stood up and looked at me. The moonlight was so bright that her skin glowed pale and luscious, every highlight and shadow magnified like she was a piece of sculpture. A work of fucking art with those stripes at her side giving her texture, a beauty all of her own.
"Lie down," I urged her, standing back up again and spreading my suit jacket on the ground. I didn't give a shit if it got all dirty and sandy, I didn't give a shit about anything other than seeing Charlie underneath me.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Charlie
In the back of my head, the same old nagging voice that had been holding me back tried to whisper. He's going to be grossed out by you, it hissed. Your tummy is squashy, and covered in stretch marks. Your breasts are saggy and your nipples look like they've been chewed on.
But he wasn't looking at me like that. His lips were parted, and I could hear his breath coming more quickly, and maybe it was the way he was looking at me, or maybe it was the fact his eyes were fixed on mine that made me stand back up again, and reach behind my back.
When I unhooked my bra, I heard him hiss, and I flung it away and stood there proudly. How could I not be proud when he was looking at me like that?
"Goddamn," he swore, moving towards me with his hands outstretched, reaching for me.
I grinned a little, wiggling my hips as I pulled my pants down below my thighs. I hesitated for only a moment before I stepped out of my panties and stood there, completely nude. The cool of the night air on my skin raised goosebumps but everywhere that his eyes touched I felt only heat.
"Goddamn," he repeated. "Come here, I need to feel you."
I stepped forward, my bare feet sinking slightly in the silty sand, cold under my toes. When his hands brushed around my waist he pulled me closer. Wrapping my legs around his waist, I sat down on his lap, straddling him as he braced against the log.
"You're so warm," I half gasped, half moaned.
"And you're so hot," he said, sliding his hand between my legs. I moaned and stiffened as his finger slid along my seam. "Are you wet for me already, Charlie?"
I had no idea how he expected me to answer his questions when he was doing whatever he was doing between my legs. "I've been," My voice caught in a little squeak as his thumb lightly brushed my clit, just grazing the very center of my need. "I've been...oh god, looking forward to this."
He growled into my neck. "Fuck," he hissed. "Say that again."
"I wanted this," I moaned. His fingers were moving faster now, and I was undulating my hips in time with his movement. Each time I arched forward, my clit brushed against the hard insistence of his cock still hidden in his pants and the fact that he was so hard for me - even as his fingers fucked their way inside of me, intent on making me come - drove me almost out of my mind. "I wanted you to come back. I didn't want you to leave, not after...fuck what are you doing to me?"
"I didn't get to see your face when you come," he rumbled, suddenly lifting me up. I clung to him as he spun us around and I found myself suddenly lying on my back looking up at the stars with his suitcoat stretched underneath me.
"I also didn't get to taste you," he complained, drawing his fingers to his lips. "I mean, I licked my fingers after I was done...."
"You did?" I laughed. "When?"
He shrugged. "When I was chasing after you when the sitter called. Ow!" He rubbed his shoulder where I'd smacked him. "What? I didn't know when I'd get a chance to do it again. " He knelt down, nudging my legs wider and looking down between them with the biggest grin on his face. "I didn't realize it was going to be so soon."
"Lucky guy," I gasped as he planted a kiss on my inner thigh.
"The luckiest," he growled against my skin.
I was already tender and swollen for him even before I felt the first flick of his tongue, so when he slid his hands under my hips and lifted me up to meet his hungry mouth, I nearly exploded on contact. "Oh my God," I gasped as his tongue slid, warm and slow and slick against my clit. My hands scrabbled around on the ground, searching for something to hold on to, as there was no way I wasn't flying. Throwing my head back, I squeezed my eyes shut, then opened them wide and the only thing I could see around me were stars burning hot above me, and I felt like I was on fire with them. "Oh my God," I said again as his tongue worked its slow, diligent magic. He moved like he had all the time in the world, tasting and licking and sucking like he was intent on enjoying every last bit of me. Half upside down in the sand with my fists full of dirt, I had never felt more vulnerable. Or more cherished.
"So sweet," he murmured, slipping his tongue deep inside of me. "You taste even better..." His tongue curled, catching that spot inside of me, the one that sent me arching upward, flying up into the night sky and suddenly I was breaking open. "Fuck!" I screamed, turning my face to the side, but his hand shot out and caught me, pinning me in place and as I panted and gasped he watched me from above, his tongue still moving.
The heat that had been gathering at the base of my spine suddenly ignited. I wanted to thrash, to bicycle my legs and arch upward, but he held me down, watching intently as I shattered. With no way of moving to escape the intensity, I was suddenly overtaken. I felt my muscles all contract at once, and then go slack as a searing heat took hold of me, melting me into the ground. My blood was lava, my skin was fire, my heart was a meteor and all the while Jameson watched me, his head haloed in the moonlight.
The orgasm slipped away in stages, letting me back down gradually. When he felt me go slack and boneless, he lowered me gently to the ground and I was almost grateful for the cold against my feverish skin.
"That was what I wanted to see," he groaned, pushing himself up over me and dropping down to brush his lips against mine. I opened my mouth eagerly for him, blushing at the taste of myself still lingering on his lips. I slid my hands down his naked back. "How are you still so warm?" I asked in wonder.
"I'm not," he said, rolling to the side. "Warm me up, baby."
Laughing, I let him roll to the side, pulling me on top of him. He kissed me, slow
and deep, tangling his fingers in my hair. I could feel his hardness pressing between my legs and pushed back up again. "I want to see you too," I insisted, my fingers going to his pants.
He swore softly under his breath as I tugged at his zipper. Lifting his hips, he let me yank his pants down. When his cock bobbed free, I must have made a noise, because he pushed himself up onto his elbows and looked at me. "What was that sound?"
I stared at the massive thing he was packing. "That was the sound of me realizing why I was so sore the morning after we met."
He grinned. "Should I be flattered?"
"I don't know," I teased, sliding down lower. His eyes widened as my hair fell in a curtain, tickling his belly, his thighs, and his ramrod straight cock. "Problem with a cock this big is that I might have a hard time fitting it in my mouth."
"Is that so?" His breath was coming more quickly and I was loving the effect I had on him. I felt drunk with power.
"I mean," I slid my hand up his shaft and his head fell back. "I've never been one to back down from a challenge."
I licked my lips and then slid them along the silken head of his cock, inhaling deeply. He smelled like the woods in the summertime and the noise he made made my toes curl. A low throbbing began to pulse in my stomach as I opened my mouth as wide as I could to take him all in.
"God, your mouth is so hot," Jameson groaned and I loved how thick his voice was. His hand snaked out to catch my hair and brush it away from my face. I grinned at him from between his legs and he swore under his breath. "Get that pussy on my face right now."
"Don't you want to...oh!" I yelped, suddenly lifted aloft and turned around in mid-air.
"That's better," he growled against my leg. "Sit down, like that, sweet thing."
"I'm going to suffocate you."
"And I'm going to die happy. Get your pussy on my tongue right now."
Biting my lip, I lowered my hips down, inhaling sharply as his tongue found my center again. Groaning, I tried to bend down and take his cock in my mouth again, but the way he was devouring me had me completely unable to concentrate. "Jameson...fuck..." There was none of that slow, languid teasing from before. His tongue moved with an incredible quickness, sending shockwaves pulsing through my body. I moaned around his cock, gripping his tightly and trying to match his intensity but it was too much for me. "Holy shit," I gasped, throwing back my head and suddenly I was grinding myself into his tongue, working my hips against his face as he kept at me until I finally fell, breathless and shaking to the side.
At Any Price Page 10
