Reality of Love Boxed Set: Books 1-3
Page 27
The other guy immediately quit helping and just handed the things he’d collected to Jameson, like he had some claim over me and my things simply because he called me “darling.” The guy nodded at me and went back to his group, all of whom were eyeing me like I was the crazy mom who’d had too much to drink at dinner and now was embarrassing her children in public. Little did they know it did not take alcohol nor the public sphere for me to embarrass them. This little show was all extra entertainment from a completely sober state. Which was sobering.
Next thing I knew, Jameson was leading me by the elbow to his car, reclaimed purse in hand.
“Was that really necessary?” he muttered quietly enough the kids couldn’t hear.
I smiled devilishly to the side of his head, inordinately pleased with the frown that covered his face. “Oh, it really was.”
“Hello?” Gabby’s tired voice finally picked up after the third ring. Good thing too, as I was in my bed all snuggled up and ready to keep calling her ass all night until she answered.
“Get this. I’m getting cock-blocked by my next-door neighbor.”
There was a pause. Then she was back, fully alert.
“Tell me everything.”
Traipsing through the woods with a bounce in my step and in my turquoise floor-length ball gown, I see the leaves and bark on the trees as if in technicolor. Everything is so other-worldly beautiful I want to cry in appreciation. Little birds hop along the branches, trailing the larger squirrels as they follow in the wake of my path. I can’t help but break into song, the clear, strong voice surprising me when I sound just like Aurora in Sleeping Beauty.
I sing from memory, words of searching for my prince, wondering where he is and when he’ll find me. The sun filters down between the trees to spotlight me as I dance around, my feet floating over the pine needles and rocks.
A thundering out in the distance stops me cold. My hand flutters to my heart and all the forest animals run for cover. I stand there, unable to move, awaiting whatever is about to come through the brush and find me.
I don’t feel scared, just curious, as if I’m right there in every tiny detail, but not really there at all.
Hooves beat out a cadence, like a song beat in my head. Crashing through the leaves arrives a huge white beast of a horse, his nostrils flaring as he breathes hard. My gaze travels up, up, up.
And I wonder no more.
My prince is here.
Sitting high on his steed is a stranger, yet he needs no introduction. Dark hair swoops back in an exaggerated coif, not a hair out of place despite the rough ride. Thick eyebrows scrunch together in a delicious frown that brings a shiver to my spine. He’s handsome and virile, the perfect match for a girl like me.
He knows it too for he slows his beast and comes alongside me, the frown easing as he takes in my dress. Every glance is like a physical caress, making me weak in the knees, but strengthening my resolve to permit him anything and everything.
Finally he stops, his horse prancing in place, no longer something I fear. My prince would never let me come to harm.
“Your name, young lady?” His voice settles over me like a warm blanket. Familiar.
“Lily, Your Highness.” I curtsy low to the ground and I pause a moment, wondering how I accomplished such a move. Straightening, I see his gaze flicker from my chest to my face and back. I should be embarrassed by the amount of cleavage showing in this ridiculous dress, but all I feel is elation at winning his attention.
“Come.” His gloved hand stretches down to me, beckoning me to follow.
I will not disobey his command. Not ever.
Placing my hand in his, he swings me up onto his quivering horse. I sit side saddle on his lap, bombarded by sensation being pressed against his wall of muscle, a hardness so different than mine.
His lips, only inches away, say my name. “Lily. You are mine.”
There’s no argument from me, which sets off a warning bell in the back of my head. I should protest, I know I should, yet all I do is nod, like it was never in question.
His hand releases mine to grab the reins. With a flick of the leather, we’re off, back into the heart of the woods, where no one roams but me. And now my prince. When we arrive at a particularly dense section, he pulls the horse to a stop.
I look around quickly, seeing nothing familiar, but then again, it’s almost entirely dark and I can’t see anything save for the man I’m pressed up against. The horse’s swaying begins to make me dizzy.
He drops the reins and slides his gloves off, one hand at a time. I’m mesmerized by his hands; the size of them, the shape, the rough-looking callouses that don’t seem congruent with a prince. And then he’s sweeping my long, blond hair to one side, a single fingertip tracing down my exposed neck to the cleavage begging to be freed.
My breath comes quick and shallow. His touch is fire, lighting up nerve endings that have lain dormant until now.
“Lily,” he calls.
I open my eyes, not realizing I’d closed them. He’s staring at me, those eyelids half closed, but not enough to hide the storm I see in the gray irises.
“Make your decision. Stay on the horse? Or against a tree?”
His words make no sense. But he’s asked me to make a decision and I will. Anything my prince desires. So I pick, having no idea what about.
“Tree, please.”
His arms bracket me against his chest and suddenly we’re on the ground, the horse gone. It’s only us and a forest of trees. He lifts me again and my hands fly to his shoulders. I have no doubt that he wouldn’t drop me, but I can’t wait any longer to touch him.
My back slams against a rough wall and a squeal squeezes out of my throat.
Against a tree.
“I need you, Lily,” my prince groans into my neck.
Too lost for words, I nod my agreement and he kisses his way up to my jaw and then finally my mouth. His lips coax mine open, his tongue a plundering force like I’ve never experienced before. He’s consuming me one kiss at a time.
A pull, a tug, down deep in my belly. I don’t know what I want, but I want it all right now. With him.
“Wrap your legs around me, love,” he whispers against my lips.
He helps me obey by pulling my long skirt to my waist. The chilled air hits my skin until he presses between my legs, no air possible between our bodies now. His kisses continue, this time accompanied by a flexing of his hips that sends shots of light behind my eyes. When he stops, I follow, my body too strung out on his drug to go without, even for a moment.
A loud rip enters my awareness, my panties a flash of bright yellow as they’re flung to the ground. I nip at his bottom lip, my hands holding his face, desperate for more even as his hands leave my body.
A clink of metal rings out, echoing among the trees. I don’t have long to wonder, not when his bare skin is now against my most intimate space. It’s heaven, it’s hell. I need the sweet torment to end, but I already fear for when it does.
He enters me on an exhale, the sting momentary, the fullness my new obsession.
“Mine, Lily, mine,” he chants. He pulls back and then plunges forward, my back taking the brunt of the force. The bark chafes and scrapes my delicate skin, but blinding pleasure exceeds any irritation.
“Please,” I moan, for what I don’t know, don’t care.
He drives into me faster, the slide easier now, all pain gone entirely. A storm is brewing, too vast and dangerous to be survived. I know it, and yet I still race forward to meet it. I claw at his shoulders, squeezing my legs tighter, riding my prince with each long stroke and jarring bounce.
And then it breaks.
The storm clouds burst and rain down light, letting me see his face, a mask of concentration as he plunders my body. I throw my head back and ride out the aftermath, hearing his shout as he spills himself into me.
A smile is all that’s left of me.
And when I wake, I still feel the pulsing between my thighs, th
e sting on my back, and the smile that may just be permanent now.
Until I realize who my prince was in my naughty dream.
Jameson.
My next-door neighbor.
12
Jameson
My journal was open in front of me on my desk, waiting for me to document my science experiment progress, but I couldn’t get myself to write anything down. Simply because my reaction to Lily-Marie and her reaction to me was nonsensical, which had no place in a scientific journal. I looked through the window in my office to the halls of the science lab surrounding me. I felt like I’d let the entire field of science down by not being able to place my relationship with Lily-Marie into a formula.
I slammed the journal closed and threw it into my satchel. Tuesday afternoons were supposed to be open office hours for me, but I couldn’t stay stuck behind this desk any longer. I needed to move, to think, to process. Walking out of the building, I didn’t even see where I was going, I was so wrapped up in my thoughts.
I’d been stunned, to say the least, to realize that I was developing feelings for Lily-Marie. My entire hypothesis hinged on the fact that true romantic feelings between people were bullshit. I mean, I wasn’t professing to love her or anything crazy like that, but I definitely couldn’t deny the feelings of attraction I’d felt when I saw her in that ball gown. It was attraction, but it had a nuance to it I couldn’t describe.
Then Milly had hugged me like I raised the sun every morning and I felt something tug at my heart. Logically, I knew the heart was simply a muscle, there to pump blood and oxygen to the body and keep us alive.
And yet.
Something in my chest lurched and reformed during my time in the dressing room with those two females. My heart was pumping as usual, but it was now connected to Lily-Marie and Milly in a way I couldn’t see, define, or understand. It was weird. It was disconcerting. It was nonsensical.
And don’t get me started on how angry I’d become watching Lily-Marie throw herself at every male in a three-mile radius when she was having dinner with me. Okay, with me and the kids. But dammit, I wanted her attention on me, not some middle-aged loser who had no idea she dreamed of Prince Charming and sucked at sewing and forgot to put gas in her car.
Right there, standing outside my Volvo in the parking lot at Pacific Coast College, it came to me. I needed to be her Prince Charming. I needed to sweep her off her feet.
Clark told me that’s who she wanted. So that’s who I’d be.
I’d left a note on her car yesterday, reminding her to stop at the gas station. I’d put a flower on her doorstep the morning after our dinner thanking her for a lovely evening. All very princely actions, right?
Zero response.
It was time to pull out the items on the list of fifty ways I’d rolled my eyes at and told myself I’d never actually do.
“Aha!” I shouted. Several students walking to class eyed me like I’d lost it, but that meant nothing to my current bubble of excitement.
I’d dance with her. And if things went really well, I’d pull her in for a swoon-worthy kiss. All of which required little to no conversation, which suited my strengths.
What could possibly go wrong?
Tuesdays and Thursdays were typically the days Lily-Marie worked from home and her car in her driveway confirmed it. I parked, exited my trusty ride, and nearly ran into my house at a full sprint. I only had an hour before she’d be leaving to pick the kids up and I needed to be properly prepared.
Wooing a woman was so far out of my wheelhouse, I was positive I’d mess it up, but I was holding out hope she’d see past my fumbles to the feelings—shudder—that lay beyond. Preparation was key, that I knew. So, I sprayed on cologne and took off my tie and sweater nerd uniform, leaving only a button-down shirt. I brushed my teeth and grabbed my laptop, pulling up YouTube while I raced over.
“Jameson. Hi.” She answered the door, but didn’t automatically step back to let me in, which was odd. Usually I got a broad smile and a warm welcome. I’d become used to that, so the opposite felt like a splash of cold water to the face.
I blinked. “Oh, I’m sorry. Am I interrupting?” What an idiot. I hadn’t even thought about the fact she was supposed to be working and maybe my presence would be an intrusion.
Her cheeks went red and she smiled shyly, looking at the ground. “No, no. Come on in.”
She finally stepped back and I squeezed past, purposely brushing against her ever so slightly, using my wide screen laptop getting through the doorway as the reason for stepping so close. I heard her sharp intake of breath and smiled. I was no expert, but that seemed like a very excellent thing. If she felt nothing for me, she would’ve breathed normally when I came close.
Either that or she feared me.
Well, that wasn’t good. Maybe the gulp meant I’d intimidated her in some way, which was never my intention.
Here I was, adrift without a paddle, hoping to sweep a woman off her feet with a wish and a laptop. A serious case of wooer’s remorse flooded my system as she shut the door and followed me into the living room. “Abort, abort!” were the only words racing through my brain. My mind scrambled to come up with a plausible reason for being here, if not for my original plan.
“Jameson? What’s going on?”
I blinked rapidly, like that movement might stir up an idea from the sludge covering the synapsis in my brain. Lily-Marie was looking at me like I’d well and truly lost it, which perhaps I had.
What was that phrase? In for a penny, in for a pound? I was in for a tonnage. Go big or go home. That was another applicable phrase, considering home was right next door. Go for broke. I could have kept going with the maniacal idiom word play, but Lily-Marie’s face was changing expression with each passing second of silence, like a human stop watch, chronicling my epic meltdown.
“Um. Well. Could you help me with my computer?” I held out my life line, the ancient but trusty computer I should have traded in years ago.
She glanced down at it and took it, even though she looked thoroughly confused. That would make two of us, sweetheart. She immediately set it on the coffee table, which was probably a good idea considering it weighed more than most hybrid cars these days.
Running her fingers over the track pad, the screen came to life. A music video from YouTube was right there on the screen.
“What seems to be the problem?” She squinted, reading the name of the song I had pulled up. “Once Upon a Dream,” of course. The perfect song to melt her heart.
“I, um, couldn’t get the song to play.” I tugged at my shirt collar. I was winging it here and doing it poorly, I could tell.
She clicked on the video and it instantly began to play, full volume on the ginormous speakers on the sides of my laptop. “Did you try hitting the play button?” she shouted over the song.
There was no acceptable answer for that question, so I ignored it in favor of wondering what in the hell was playing. That didn’t sound at all like I imagined Disney princess movies to sound like. It had a dark and slow beat. A voice began to sing that should win a year’s supply of cigarettes for the throaty sexiness.
I came closer to Lily-Marie to stare at the screen. “That’s ‘Once Upon a Dream’?” I shouted back, even though we were mere inches apart.
When she didn’t answer, I swiveled my head, seeing her gaze on my chin. I swiped, wondering if I missed some toothpaste in my hurry to get over here.
A lazy smile tilted her lips and her gaze finally lifted to mine. “Yeah. It’s the Lana Del Rey version.” She’d whispered this time, but I’d heard her since she’d leaned closer. So much closer. Close enough I could see her eyes dilate and the blue irises turn a deeper blue. Like staring into the ocean and wondering how deep it went.
Then she lifted her nose in the air by my neck, as if to sniff me. I had no idea what that meant or why she would smell me, but if the rosy color of her cheeks was any indicator, she could sniff me all she liked. I was definitely pro-sni
ffing.
“Dance with me.”
Oh hell, that was me. I’d whispered that, lost in the same spell Lily-Marie appeared to be in. I hadn’t even asked, just demanded, the words slipping past my lips and into the air, oblivious to my earlier command to abort the mission.
Her gaze sharpened while her body froze. I waited, frozen as well, wondering how badly I’d messed things up between us. The air felt thick, like a sudden ocean fog had come through the house, cocooning us in a world where only she and I existed. I’d never been in a fog bank with a beautiful woman, but suddenly the idea of dancing right through it seemed like the very rightest thing to do. So I did.
Without waiting for confirmation, I slid my hand around her waist and picked up her hand, assuming a formal position. When her stunned expression slid into a shy smile, I pulled her in tight, making sure there was nothing formal about this dance. The singer crooned on and I felt in that moment I’d never known anyone better.
I swayed once, she followed, her body rubbing against mine in an innocently seductive manner. The swaying kept going, fueled by a wish for more rubbing, more pressing, more time spent with her in my arms. Our gazes stayed locked together, as if blinking would break this foggy spell. Something neither of us wanted.
The song spoke of dreams, of love, of knowing someone so well it felt like a dream. She sang of everything pumping through my heart with each exaggerated beat. Everything that didn’t make sense to my brain.
With sudden clarity, I knew exactly what I felt. It had taken a throaty princess song to spell it out for me.
I loved Lily-Marie.
In life, there were those things that were believed without thought or speculation. When I heard an ocean wave hit the sand for the first time I knew that sound was the most beautiful and calming sound in the world. It struck a chord somewhere in my soul. The truthfulness of it was obvious.
That’s what this moment with Lily-Marie was all about. It was my brain allowing the rest of me to get a say in the matter. My soul remembered. My soul knew. And now my brain just had to catch up.