His Surrender

by Jaclyn Osborn

  “I haven’t tried out the bed yet, but it looks comfy,” he said from close behind me.

  Goose bumps spread from my nape and down my back at his proximity. His voice was low and sexy. Was he imagining us tangled up together in the sheets just like I was?

  “The purple is a nice touch,” I commented. Purple pillows were the only color on the white comforter, and the wall behind the bed was painted a shade of lavender.

  “Purple means royalty.”

  “Are you calling yourself a king?”

  He laughed and moved away from me to open the curtains wider on the window.

  “You aren’t denying it,” I pointed out. “I’ll take that as acceptance.”

  “You can take it however you wish,” he said. When I turned around, my knees wobbled a little. Jay had pulled his shirt over his head, causing the sexy ridges of his stomach to be more pronounced. He took the shirt off and looked over at me. “What’s wrong?”

  “Why are you stripping? You told me you were going to behave yourself, Mr. Foley.”

  He gasped in mock surprise. “I am behaving myself. I just wanted to change my shirt because that one had a coffee stain on it. Is that a crime?”

  He could play at innocent all he wanted, but the smirk was all too telling of his true intentions.

  “Who’s watching Sput while you’re gone?” I asked, going over to sit on the couch in front of the windows. Foster had said he and his dad were going camping, so I knew it wasn’t them.

  “My parents.” Jay pulled on another shirt and came to sit beside me. “Mom’s going to spoil him even more than he already is. I’m gonna go home to a fat cat.”

  A fatter cat, I nearly corrected but held my tongue.

  “What made you change your mind?” I stared at my hands as I asked the question. “About us.” He’d somewhat given an explanation, but I needed more because I was still lost.

  “It involved a fuck-ton of whiskey and a lot of feeling sorry for myself.” Jay sat forward on the couch. His eyes had a faraway look to them. “You asked me once if I’d had my heart broken, and you were right. I have. It’s no excuse for how I’ve treated you, though. I’m trying to do better. To be better.” Those emerald eyes moved to me. “I don’t want my past to define me anymore. I want to make my own path, not keep goin’ down the one I’m on.”

  We were so much alike in that regard, both of us learning how to move on from past hurts.

  “I’m glad you’re here,” I whispered.

  “Took me long enough to get here.” I got the feeling he wasn’t talking about here as in New Orleans. “Being stubborn is in my blood.”

  “Really? I hadn’t noticed.”

  He chuckled. “Okay, smart-ass.”

  “Before you called me, I checked out Julia Street.” I turned on the cushion, bringing one leg up to rest on it as I faced him. “It’s kind of known for its art. Made me think of you.”

  “Yeah?”

  I nodded. “We should go to the Contemporary Arts Center while we’re here.” I had little interest in art, but the way his eyes lit up at the suggestion told me I’d made the right call. I’d do anything to see that look again and again.

  After checking the business hours of the arts center, we left the hotel and took my car to the edge of Camp and St. Joseph Street to park. The tickets were reasonably priced—twenty bucks for two people—so I paid for them and walked farther inside. The building was an old warehouse with two floors of rotating exhibits, as well as a café in the lobby that sold coffee and tea.

  Jay bought us each a coffee before we toured the exhibits. The huge, open space of the warehouse was nice, and we were able to take our time looking at everything.

  “I like these,” he said, stopping in front of a set of metal works.

  “William Monaghan is the artist,” I said, reading the plaque. One sculpture looked like metal that had been melted and twisted together. “It says here that he uses industrial forms to distort perceptions of depth and challenge our views on so-called unwanted remnants of consumerism.”

  “That’s deep.” Jay sipped his coffee, nodding.

  I bumped his shoulder. “Come on. Let’s check out the photography exhibit.”

  Almost two hours later, we had finished looking at everything and were back in the main part of the lobby checking out the installation they’d built there before going outside. The streets were crowded, more so than they’d been when we’d gone into the arts center.

  “The St. Joseph’s Day parade,” I said, having a lightbulb moment. “Today’s the twenty-first. There will be floats, marching bands, and probably a lot of food.”

  “We should go.”

  And then we did.

  Just like with Mardi Gras, beaded necklaces had been thrown around during the parade, and Jay had gathered as many as he could. Once his neck was full, he tossed them on mine. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d laughed so much. Probably the biggest thing I learned that day was Jay and I could have just as much fun out of the bedroom as we did inside it.

  He cracked jokes, smiled, and made me feel special with every joyful glance and touch of his hand on mine. It was the attention I’d craved, and he gave it without me having to ask.

  “The fun isn’t over yet,” Jay said later that afternoon when we returned to the hotel.

  “Where to next?” I took off the beaded necklaces and shook my head at the massive pile of them.

  “Did you bring your hat?” he asked. “You’ll need it where we’re goin’.”

  “Should I be scared?”

  Jay winked and walked over to the closet where he’d hung up his shirts. He rifled through them before taking one off the hanger. A black V-neck tee that made his already toned biceps look even better.

  “Just change into something suitable for a club and put on the damn hat,” he said, turning to me.

  “Does your plan for the night involve food? Because I’m starving.” I opened my bag and grabbed the fedora sitting on top, placing it on my head. Then, I took out my white suspenders, blue button-up shirt, and navy blue slacks.

  Jay’s gaze roamed my body as I undressed. “I’m starving too.”

  My cheeks heated and I looked away.

  “Have I ever told you that I adore your quirkiness?” Jay said, coming closer.

  I shook my head and reminded myself to breathe. Funny how basic functions became so hard around Jay. Like breathing and thinking. My heart sure knew how to beat, though, as it thumped wildly.

  “Then let me say it now.” Jay caressed my jaw as his eyes darkened a little. The temperature in the room skyrocketed, and I regretted putting on a long-sleeved shirt because I was burning up. “You’re fucking adorable. All that’s missin’ is a bow tie.”

  I opened my mouth to respond but then searched through my suitcase instead, bringing up a black bow tie.

  “I think your nickname should be Sinatra, not Piano Man,” Jay said, as he broke out into a smile. He then grabbed the bow tie and fastened it around my collar, tying it like he’d done it a thousand times.

  “I didn’t know you knew how to tie one.”

  “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.” Jay’s voice was soft. So were his eyes as they lifted to mine. “But I really want to tell you. Some things just might take time.”

  He might’ve messed up before, but he had stepped up and proven he wanted this, that he wanted me. For that, I didn’t mind being patient.

  “I’m here when you’re ready.” I stepped into his arms as they slid around me. We didn’t kiss, even though I really wanted to. And the fact he didn’t kiss me said a lot. He wanted to take things slow, to build a solid foundation.

  So did I.

  Once we were ready, we left the hotel. I asked Jay where we were going, and he’d answer with nothing but a smile. The devil. I let him drive my car and relaxed in the seat, staring at all the people walking along Bourbon Street. The Big Easy came alive even more at night. The windows were down, and I could hea
r trumpets and saxophones wailing in the distance, being carried by the gentle breeze. We reached the French Quarter and drove a little farther.

  “Here we are,” Jay said.

  It was a two-story building with a balcony above the entrance. We parked on the street and walked toward people who stood outside on the sidewalk, holding drinks while swaying to the music pouring out from inside. A sign hung from a pole, and I saw the name. The Snug Harbor Jazz Bistro.

  “Hey, I’ve heard of this place.” Excitement buzzed in my body. “They have a live band seven nights a week. It was on my list of places to visit.”

  “You have a list?” Jay grabbed my hand.

  I stared at our hands in silent awe. “Y-yeah. I do.”

  “The hotel is booked for five nights,” he said, pressing his palm closer to mine. “We can mark off as many places as we can.”

  He’s really trying. It wasn’t just words. Jay was showing me with actions.

  “Sounds good,” I said, smiling.

  Chapter 19

  Jay

  The last-minute trip to New Orleans had worked out better than I could’ve ever imagined. Part of me had been afraid Remi would take one look at me and send me packing. Instead, he’d been forgiving and patient—two things I didn’t exactly deserve. He remained hesitant, which I couldn’t blame him for, but I felt like things were moving along nicely. It would take time to build trust again.

  Snug Harbor had a certain charm to it. I guided Remi over to one of the small candlelit tables in the center of the room, and we sat facing the stage where a big-band jazz group were performing. Remi bobbed his head to the rhythm, and I caught myself watching him more than the musicians.

  I wasn’t sure if I loved him, but my feelings were strong. Damn strong.

  We ordered burgers and enjoyed the music as we ate. When the band took a break, I leaned over and whispered in his ear, “Are you having fun?”

  “Yes.” He turned his head, bringing his lips so close to mine. “Thank you for this. You’ve made this experience incredible. Much better than if I would’ve been alone.”

  The band returned for a few more songs, and Remi smiled at an older couple who stood up and started to dance together to the jazz tune. The man slowly spun the woman before drawing her back to him and placing a kiss on her wedding ring.

  Did Remi want marriage? Kids? A white picket fence and a dog?

  I ridded myself of the thought. I could only handle so much at one time. Baby steps.

  Directly across the street from Snug Harbor was another jazz club called The Spotted Cat. Hand in hand, we jogged over and joined the crowd of older folks having a smoke outside the entrance before we ducked inside. The bar was a lot more crowded than the last one, and we had to weave our way through the sea of people to find a place to sit.

  Remi slid into a chair at a high-top table and I took the one beside him before ordering a beer for me and a water for him. He smiled at me.

  “What?”

  “Nothing,” he answered.

  “It’s something.”

  “I just appreciate you. That’s all.” He averted his eyes to the band on the small stage across the room. “You don’t pressure me to drink.”

  “I’d never pressure you to do anything.”

  He looked at me. “I know.”

  Unlike the last place, The Spotted Cat had a more laid-back feel. The storefront windows gave us a view of Frenchmen Street. More people danced around us, ranging in age from young to old. The style of music, while although still jazz, had a different feel to it as well. I mentioned that to Remi.

  “Jazz is always changing,” he responded. “Just like other genres of music. There’s traditional jazz like what we heard at Snug Harbor, then there’s acid jazz, or club jazz. It’s still full of soul, but it has a funky vibe too.”

  I failed at suppressing my laugh. Being around Remi allowed me to let my guard down. “Did you just say the word funky?”

  “Yeah? So what?”

  “Okay, you cool cat.”

  “Don’t mock me, you asshole.” Remi laughed as he reached across the small table and pushed against my shoulder. “Did you tell me to wear my hat because of our night out on the town?”

  “Guilty as charged.” I put my hands up. “Plus, like I said before, I like when you wear it.”

  I liked even more how bashful he got when I complimented him.

  As the night drew to an end and we returned to the hotel, my palms began to feel clammy as we rode up on the elevator. What would happen once we got to the room? Remi and I’d had sex many times, so I wasn’t nervous about that. What did make me nervous, though, was the unknown. If we did have sex, what would it mean afterward?

  “We’ve reached our floor,” Remi said, drawing my attention. He stared at me with a tilted head and a curious set to his brow.

  “Oh. Right.” I cleared my throat and stepped off the elevator.

  His steps sounded behind me in the hall, stopping when I did. I unlocked the door and opened it for him. Once it closed behind us and we were standing in the dark, the clamminess from my palms spread up my arms and swirled in my chest. He went over and turned on the lamp before standing beside the tall window and gazing out. The courtyard was below us, lit and decorated.

  I tried to step toward him, but my feet were like lead. He slightly turned, giving me a view of his profile. Damn if he wasn’t the most beautiful thing I ever saw, yet I couldn’t touch him. My body wouldn’t move.

  “You seem nervous,” Remi said.

  “I am.”

  “Why?” He turned the rest of the way, and I saw his shock. He must not have expected me to admit it. “I’m not a stranger, Jay.”

  Finally, my feet moved, taking me closer to him. “That’s why I’m nervous. Because you’re not some stranger I plan to fuck and never see again. You’re not a casual hookup I can bang and walk out on. I wouldn’t have gotten on a plane and come after you if you were.” I lifted a trembling hand and took hold of his jaw. “You’re different. When I’m with you, I want you to see the real me. Not the illusion.”

  Remi placed his hand over mine and briefly closed his eyes before opening them again. His eyes reminded me of a clear blue sky. I felt warm, but not on fire—no longer the burning man. “I like the you in front of me right now.”

  “Even if I’m stubborn, arrogant, and a bit closed off?”

  He wound his arms around me and ghosted his lips over mine. “Yes.”

  That one word made me release the breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.

  “Potseluj menya,” I whispered.

  Kiss me.

  Remi closed the gap between our mouths. As our lips met, I cupped the back of his head and guided him toward the bed. His hands skimmed up and down my sides before lifting my shirt up, our mouths only separating long enough for him to tug it over my head, and then we were back together, lips joined and bodies pressing close together.

  His hat was knocked into the floor when I deepened the kiss, and he laughed against my mouth. That laugh transitioned to a soft moan as I moved my face to his neck, kissing the spot that drove him wild. I loosened his bow tie and shoved his suspenders to the side before unbuttoning his shirt.

  “I’ve never enjoyed undressing someone this much,” I said, pushing him onto the bed. He bounced as he hit the mattress and tilted his head as he smiled up at me. “You’re like that present I eyed under the Christmas tree when I was seven. I couldn’t wait to rip off the paper.”

  “What was it?” he asked, lifting his ass up as I worked the button and zipper on his pants and pulled them down his hips.

  “A train set.”

  Remi snatched my hand and kissed my palm before gently pulling me on top of him. “Do you like trains, Mr. Foley?”

  “I do.” I ran my nose along his jaw. “I used to sit in my mom’s laundry basket with a bowl on my head and pretend to be a conductor. Every time someone walked by, I’d go toot toot.”

  Remi threw
his head back with a laugh. “How did you go from wanting to be a train conductor to a lawyer?”

  I kissed his chest as I undid my belt and pushed my pants down. “Certain stages of my life made me want different things. I also wanted to be a firefighter, then a Marine like my dad. Then I settled on a detective because I loved solving things. But while in college, I took an Intro to Law class for my CJ degree and kind of fell in love with it.”

  “What is this stage of your life telling you about us?” Remi smoothed his hands over my biceps appreciatively.

  “That I’m finally on the right path,” I answered.

  “Me too.”

  I’d come prepared and had packed lube and condoms in my suitcase. Wishful thinking that had paid off. I left Remi to retrieve them before returning to the bed and settling between his legs. His hard cock rested between us, and I traveled down his body until I reached it.

  “You’re too good at this,” Remi said, tangling his fingers in my hair as I circled my tongue over the head of his cock. He was weighty in my hand but not too thick. Perfect.

  “Buckle up, darlin’. I’m just getting started.”

  “Pretty sure you said that before.” He smiled down at me, then sucked in a sharp breath when I took him deeper in my mouth. His fingers gripped my hair tighter.

  Using the lube, I coated a finger and slowly pushed it inside him. His moans were my fuel. I enjoyed pleasing him. I liked knowing when I did a good job. I liked being praised and rewarded with desperate pleas for more.

  “That’s my beautiful boy. Just like that.”

  I froze at the memory of Andrew’s words. The reason for why I liked being praised was obvious. Back then, pleasing him had meant he’d stay with me longer, that he wouldn’t run off back to his wife right after spilling his load.

  “Jay?” The image of Andrew faded as I focused on Remi. “Come back to me.”

  I blinked, then blinked again. Hot molten lead churned in my gut, yet a cold sheen of sweat dampened my brow. Two extremes that clashed. I couldn’t keep it from Remi forever. I’d eventually have to tell him why I was the way I was.