by Piper Rayne
“A man can dare to dream.” He tips his wine glass at me and then takes a sip himself.
“Anyway…” I need to move this conversation back into a PG rating otherwise I will end up on my knees under the table no matter how fancy a place this is. A girl can only take so much. “Like I said, I had no interest, nor do I think I would’ve made a very good cop.”
“I don’t know, I bet you’d be a tough cop.” His eyes swim with lust as though he’s picturing me in one of those risqué police lingerie sets. I make a mental note to invest in one.
“Are you kidding? I’d be the worst cop. I’d probably let all the kids off with a warning if they agreed to give me their pot,” I joke and he laughs but it rings hollow.
Okay… moving on. “So, are you still a banker?” I shouldn’t have asked because I’m forcing myself to pretend like I don’t already know his office address, the name of his company and his web address, but it was the first thing I could think of after the strange look he gave me with my last response.
“No. I started my own company shortly after Jacob worked for me at the bank. I partnered with someone I went to Harvard with and now invest in emerging companies trying to bring products to market.”
I nod. “Do you enjoy it?” I ask.
“I do.” Jasper sits up straighter in his seat like he’s brimming with energy now. “It’s kind of a high to take something in its infancy and nurture it into a success. It’s always interesting to see which companies rise and become more than you imagined they could be. My partner and I are way too competitive. And we’re not even twins.” He winks.
I smile. “So you like living on the edge? You enjoy risk?”
“I straddle the line in my business life, but in my personal life I prefer both feet on solid ground.” There’s no smirk or humoured smile on his lips and thankfully, Leon brings our entrées to distract me from having to pry about the meaning of his last statement. I’m far from solid ground—more like quicksand, which would mean there’s no room for me in his life.
I already knew I wasn’t getting the business deal. Does this mean I won’t get the man either?
11
The first part of the play was amazing. Jasper selected She Loves Me, a romantic comedy that’s an adaptation of the original play that was once made into the movie You’ve Got Mail.
I walk out from the bathroom during intermission to find Jasper perched by the bar with a wine glass in one hand, a highball in the other. The playhouse must have the air on full blast because I’m freezing, but I’m guessing Jasper enjoys seeing my skin because I’ve caught him sneaking a few peeks at my ink tonight.
“The only time I wish I were a man…when it comes to public bathrooms.” I roll my eyes, taking the wine glass he’s offering.
He smiles then sips his drink and places his hand on the small of my back, right where the fabric dips down above my ass. His fingers skim along my bare skin and I squirm. His touch is like lighter fluid he’s dousing me with before the match is struck. My radar has been off lately, but I’d place good money on the fact that Jasper knows exactly what to do to drive a woman crazy.
“Are you enjoying the play?” he asks, his gaze tracking every one of my movements.
“I am. My friend Tahlia will be so jealous when I tell her about it. She has this obsession with romantic movies.” Talking about my friends feels natural with Jasper and I wonder about the company he keeps. Just as the thought sparks, a couple walks over.
“Jasper,” the woman coos, offering her hand to him.
He accepts the hand, shaking it between both of his.
“Sabrina, where’s Gavin?” he asks the redhead who’s now appraising me and clearly finds me lacking. Her eyes skid along my body, almost faltering at each tattoo as though she can’t believe it.
It’s the same look I got every time Tahlia invited me to her family’s country club. I’m way too awesome to let a bunch of uptight assholes make me feel bad about myself so I stopped going when she asked.
Sabrina glances over my shoulder and I turn to see a tall male walking over with two glasses of wine. Sabrina only graces him with a fleeting look because she’s too busy sweeping her gaze between Jasper and me.
“Sabrina, this is my date, Lennon Hart.” Jasper’s hand finds the spot on the small of my back and gives me a soft rub.
She takes my extended hand but her hand is limp in mine, as if I don’t deserve the effort of a handshake. I smile like the polite Catholic girl my mom tried to raise me as and then take a step closer to Jasper, wanting as far away from this woman’s toxic energy as possible.
“Nice to meet you,” she says, her eyes doing that sweeping motion again.
“Jasper, what the hell? It’s been a while.” The guy—Gavin, I presume—sets down the two wine glasses on the bar so he can shake his hand.
“Never thought I’d see you at a play.” Jasper laughs and Gavin picks up both glasses, handing one to Sabrina. She sips it, but continues to study me as the men chat for a minute.
Gavin glances my way and I don’t miss the way his eyes flare with I’m not sure what…surprise?
“Who’s this?” he asks and Jasper’s hand slides to my hip, his fingers digging into my flesh, pulling me flush against his side.
“This is Lennon Hart,” he says, not giving me any breathing room so that I can shake Gavin’s hand.
Gavin nods at me. “Nice to meet one of Jasper’s many ladies.”
Well, fuck a duck. I was expecting the first jab to come from Sabrina, not him. Two can play at that game.
“Well, tonight is my turn.” I place my hand on Jasper’s chest and weave his tie through my fingers. “I do only get him twice a week, but he’s so worth it.” My tone is sultry and sexual and Jasper’s chest rumbles with laughter.
Sabrina’s lips contort into a sneer of disgust and Gavin shoots me a half smile.
“I’m sure you keep his hands full,” Gavin continues and Jasper wraps my hand in his and brings it up to his lips.
“You have no idea.” Jasper looks down at me and my breath catches. I lose myself in the green and gold mix in his eyes and the rest of the room fades away. For a brief moment, it’s only the two of us and the plethora of possibilities that exist between us.
The lights flicker, jarring us both back to the present.
“Well, we better go,” Jasper says, taking my hand.
“Good to meet you.” Gavin leans in and kisses my cheek. When he pulls back his gaze rakes over my body. Jasper’s entire body stiffens beside me.
“Um, yeah, you as well,” I stammer.
Jasper doesn’t exchange handshakes or hugs with either of them. Instead he gives them a quick wave and then we’re heading back into the theater, down to the front row.
Once we’re settled in our seats, I look around to see where Sabrina and Gavin are sitting. Not finding them anywhere, I lean into Jasper. The question I’m dying to ask is like acid burning a hole through my tongue the longer I hold it inside.
“Can I ask you something?” I whisper and he leans into me as the curtain comes up. “My tattoos? They don’t embarrass you? I mean, I saw the way your friends looked at me.”
He chuckles. “First, they aren’t my friends. I went to school with both of them. Second of all”—this time he turns to look me in the eyes—“do you really have no idea that every man in this room is jealous of me because I’m the one who gets to take you home?”
My face heats and his hand rises to my cheek as the spotlight zeroes in on the stage. Still, I can’t look away from him.
“I would never hide you,” he whispers and my eyes close as he seals that promise with a chaste kiss that leaves me wanting more.
He really does play to win. I can’t wait to shine up his trophy later.
12
The taxi drops us off at South Beach Harbor Marina. Jasper climbs out and pays the driver through the passenger window while I slide across the backseat.
“Why are we here?” I ask,
allowing him to entwine his fingers with mine and lead me down the plank walkway through the boats.
“I hope I’m not being too presumptuous.” He stops us and grabs my other hand with his. “I don’t expect you to do anything. I just didn’t want the night to end.”
A foreign giddiness washes through my body like the ripples of the ocean surrounding us.
I eye the marina, figuring he owns one of the boats. “Which one is yours?” I ask, my gaze scouring all the boats, trying to guess which one is Jasper’s based on what I know of his taste. Unless the flag is a one-hundred-dollar bill I might not be able to figure it out because they all look kind of the same from here.
He points to the far end, at a sailboat that’s not as big as many, but not as small as the majority of boats lined up. Mid-sized and currently swaying a bit on the water.
“When the boats are a-rockin’,” I say, a smile teasing my lips. I kick off my heels, hang them from my fingers as I step in front of him, eager to see what Jasper’s packing and to get on the boat. I can’t remember the last time I was on a boat.
He follows a few steps behind me, his dress shoes scuffing on the worn wood. In my mind, he’s watching my ass sway back and forth. He’s admiring the way my dress dips all the way down to right above my ass, remembering what my skin felt like when he rested his hand there. My imagination has him adjusting the chubby that’s growing in his pants.
I stop at the edge of his boat, jumping up and down on my toes.
“You’re like a kid on Christmas.” He looks at me from the corner of his eye as he slips his own shoes off.
“I’ve never been on a sailboat before.”
He steps up onto the boat, stopping and holding his hand out for me. When I step on, the boat sways and he grips my hand harder to keep me steady, but I fall right into his chest.
“You arranged that,” I joke and his hand moves up to my cheek, his thumb caressing my skin.
“Let me show you around.” He ignores my comment, his hand sliding down my arm until my hand is in his again.
I’m not usually a hand-holder, more of an ass-grabber. Anyone who knows me knows I don’t like being led anywhere. I’m in charge of my own life. But with Jasper, it somehow feels right that he leads me.
He walks me around, and when we get to the wheel I pretend like I’m on the high seas. When we reach the front of the boat I sit down and let my legs hang off the edge before striking a pose like I’m a celebrity bathing in the sun. Jasper laughs, but when we reach the door to the cabin, all my amusement vanishes because this is where I’m going to fuck his brains out.
The entire date, I didn’t waver about whether I was going to sleep with him or not. That’d be like giving me a lottery ticket and expecting me not to scratch it. How the hell would you know if you’re a millionaire otherwise? Tonight, I’m hoping for a lot of zeros after Jasper’s performance.
He goes down the ladder first so he can steady me from below. As my foot hits the second rung, his hands slide up my hips.
“You aren’t peeking, are you?” I joke and his fingers tighten on my waist.
“I don’t spoil my surprises,” he says in a low voice that I feel in all the right places.
My feet reach the bottom and he turns me around, stepping forward to crowd me into the ladder. My breathing hitches in my throat, but he continues his prowl, leaving my ass perched on a step of the ladder and him between my open legs. Smooth move that I didn’t anticipate. I’m impressed.
“I haven’t seen the bed yet,” I pretend to whine.
His gaze stays on mine, fierce and predatory. “If I’m lucky you’ll see every inch of this place. Repeatedly.”
“Do you have any neighbors?” I ask, my hand sliding down the front of his slacks, gripping his hard length in my hand.
Not a chubby, girls, a full-on, hard-as-granite cock. I give myself a mental high five because unlike the last dick that was trying to make an impression on me, Jasper is rockin’ cock. At least nine inches by my estimation and though I don’t want to call myself an expert in such things… I kinda am.
The thought that I’ve turned Jasper on makes me throb between my legs. I’m going to rock this guy’s world and pray he doesn’t ruin me for others.
“There aren’t houseboats. So you can scream as loud as you want.” Moving closer, he kisses my collarbone, moving up my neck, until he pauses. “I promise to send you home with throat lozenges tomorrow.”
“Who says I’ll be the one screaming?” I giggle, my head falling back until it hits the ladder. “Ouch,” I say, still laughing.
He grips my ass, and I lock my legs around his waist. Swinging us around, he walks me back until I’m against a counter.
I jump down when he gives me some space and my hand moves to my back to unzip my dress.
Jasper steps forward, his hand landing on mine. “Allow me,” he says, his hand on my hip, swiveling me around. He shrugs off his jacket and I watch it fall on the couch to our left. He cages me in, his hands grazing over mine and placing them on the counter in front of me. “Hands stay,” he whispers, kissing where my neck meets my shoulder.
My skin scorches under the softness of his lips. He slowly unzips my dress, his finger gliding down my spine.
A strangled groan escapes his throat. He pushes the dress off each shoulder and I unglue my hands from the counter just long enough to allow the dress to fall to the ground, leaving me in my black thong and my heels.
“I’m such a lucky bastard,” he says, his voice strained and filled with lust.
I shake my ass a few times, impatient to have his hands on me, and he grips my ass, squeezing. When I move to turn around, he steps into me, pinning me there, my front half falling to the counter top.
“You’re used to control, aren’t you?” he whispers against the skin on my back. When I don’t answer he nudges my legs apart and I feel his thick, hard cock through his slacks. What I wouldn’t do for him to take those pants off right now.
I nod.
“Tonight, I’m in charge,” he says and a jolt of adrenaline courses through my body before I relax under his gentle touch.
“I don’t take directions very well,” I reply and he chuckles, a deep low sound that I feel between my legs.
“There will be consequences if you don’t,” he promises me.
I suck in a breath. God, I’m practically dripping between my legs for this man.
“Tell me you’ll spank me,” I say with a breathy voice, turning my head to the side so I can see him.
“I have a feeling there’s no punishment you wouldn’t enjoy.” He squeezes my ass cheek.
I shake my head, my teeth digging into my bottom lip. “I’m open to most things.” I rise from the counter and this time he allows me, taking my shoulder and swinging me around to look into his eyes.
“Undress me,” he orders with a devilish tone that ignites a tremble through my body.
I fiddle with the buttons of his shirt as he stands there and lets me unclothe him.
I almost always call the shots in the bedroom, but I’m usually dealing with guys in their twenties like me. Jasper’s in his early thirties though and he’s all man. He owns his sexuality like I do and doesn’t seem to make any apologies for it. I have a feeling he could rock not only this boat, but any surface he fucks me on.
His shirt opens and as I push it off his shoulders, my mouth drops open.
“That’s hot.” My hands run over the tribal tattoo on one of his shoulders that leads across to his muscular back. I push his inked shoulder and he turns like a fashion model and lets his shirt join my dress on the floor. A tattoo runs along the top of his shoulder blades across his entire back. Circling back around, he ignores the fact that I’m admiring his tattoos and eyes his slacks.
“Mr. Banks, would you like me to take care of these pants for you?” My hand snakes down his muscular chest until I cup his balls in my palm, squeezing and massaging.
“I’d like you to do that on your
knees, Miss Hart.” He cocks his eyebrow as though he’s daring me.
Does he not get me at all? A dare pretty much guarantees I’m going to do whatever it is. I enjoy a challenge.
I sink to my knees, staring up at him as I swiftly unbutton his charcoal slacks.
They thud to the floor, pooling at his feet and he cocks that eyebrow again. His black boxer briefs tent with his throbbing erection and my mouth waters. Teasing has always been my forte and since he’s informed me that I’m only in control until he’s naked, I figure it’s time to play a little.
My hand slides up his muscular leg. He’s statue still, not even a flicker of an eyelid as he stares down at me, his gaze impassive. His hard length stops my hand and I squeeze, rubbing up and down.
I inch closer, arching my back and bringing his cock to my lips through his boxers. With the fabric barrier, I allow my teeth to scrape up his erection until the tip is in my mouth, where I let my tongue wet the cotton fabric. My hand continues to pump him up and down and his hands move toward my hair.
We both know what he wants, and I’m curious if he’ll stick to his word that I lose control once I take off his boxers.
Unable to resist the burning question in my mind, I pull back and my mouth leaves his fabric-covered cock and my fingers hook on the sides of his boxers. I drag them down and his cock springs out, hard as a rock, straining toward his navel.
And what a beautiful cock it is. Holy shit. A spotlight with a chorus of ‘ahs’ should be ringing out around us in this moment. A chorus of angels should be singing hallelujah because this man is perfection personified.
I grab him, sliding his length through my hand before covering his mushroom tip with my mouth. I exhale in relief through my nose, but before I can get a good taste, Jasper bends down and picks me up under my arms, propping me on the counter. Though I’m disappointed, I can’t help but be impressed by his strength.
“I told you, I’m in control now.” He steps out of his slacks and kicks all our clothing out of our way. He pushes my legs to the sides, opening me to him, and he runs his finger along the underside of my thong, teasing my clit and making me grow even wetter.
