Trusting Jay: (A Chicago Suits Romance) (Loving Jay Book 1)

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Trusting Jay: (A Chicago Suits Romance) (Loving Jay Book 1) Page 4

by Simone Sowood


  “There’s no point in me coming up. Come down here.”

  “Okay,” I said. I guess if that’s what he wants.

  The elevator opened and I could see him standing on the other side of the glass doors. In yet another expensive suit. One that sat oh so perfectly on his shoulders.

  He had his back to me, but turned to face me and smiled when I opened the door. My heart leapt. In the two days since I’d seen him, I’d almost forgotten how hot he is. Or maybe I’d convinced myself that my memory was playing tricks on me, building him up to a level of gorgeousness that he simply didn’t have. Yet here he was, standing right in front of me in all his undeniably beyond gorgeous state.

  11

  “Hi Beautiful,” he said. He put his phone in his pocket and hugged me tight against him. I closed my eyes and inhaled. His earthy scent traveled through my lungs and down to my crotch, filling me with heat.

  “Hey.”

  “Are you okay to walk to the stadium?”

  “That’s the beauty of central living.”

  “Okay, let’s go. I thought we’d eat in the stadium.”

  “In the stadium? That food is so overpriced!” I guess he’s never been to any event at a stadium, everyone knows what stupid money the places there charge.

  “They are? That’s fine, we’ll stop somewhere on the way.”

  Our belly’s full, we filed through the stadium doors with the rest of the fifty thousand spectators. Jay held the tickets out for the woman, and we were through the doors.

  “Beers?” I asked.

  Jay looked at me with his dazzling smile, “Absolutely.”

  When we each had a beer in hand, we entered the stadium. I followed Jay. He seemed to know where he was going. The place was already buzzing and even though I knew nothing about basketball, the atmosphere was electric and I couldn’t help but be excited.

  “Here we are, that’s your seat.” Jay pointed to a seat and I furrowed my brow.

  “Are you serious?”

  He let out a burst of breath. “Of course.”

  “How the hell did you score court side seats?”

  His eyes flared. “Buddy of mine.”

  “That’s a nice friend to have.”

  “He took pity on me. I told him I needed to woo a pretty girl and he offered them.”

  I blushed. “You didn’t need fancy tickets to impress me.”

  “I’m not trying to impress you.” I didn’t know what he meant by that comment. Sometimes he’s too difficult to read. Almost like he doesn’t care what anyone thinks of him.

  “Oh,” I said.

  He leaned over, his lips to my ear and said, “If I were trying to impress you, I’d have taken you to an old movie house.”

  His words set a tingle down my spine. No. I must not approach this as a relationship. This is sex. At least at some point I assume we’re going to have it.

  The lights dimmed and spotlights swooped around the stands, which set the crowd off. As the teams emerged and began warming up, the cheering became so loud I scrunched my face up in an effort to plug my ears. From my seat at the edge of the court I watched mesmerized and the fast moving giants did their stuff.

  At halftime, a man and woman I recognized from a local television station appeared center court and began talking to the crowd. A half dozen guys ran out around the court. One stopped in front of me, startling me. He shot some t-shirts out of a cannon, then moved down a few seats to shoot off some more.

  Jay turned to me, “I want to apologize in advance.”

  “What for?”

  “Because I have to be somewhere at five tomorrow morning, so I have to take off right after the game finishes.”

  “Oh.” So much for sex. This is just a date. A date as in a relationship. I don’t like that.

  “I’m really sorry, I have a busy week,” he said.

  “Doing what? I thought you said you don’t have a job.”

  “I don’t. I just have some stuff to do.”

  “I don’t get you. You say you don’t work, you swan about downtown, sit court side at basketball games, and have an endless wardrobe of what appear to be very expensive suits.” I tried to sound lighthearted. The truth is I don’t really care, since this isn’t a relationship.

  Jay pursed his lips but didn’t respond to my comment. I smiled at him, leaned into him and kissed his cheek. My hand had landed on his bicep, and I let it linger. I thought, but couldn’t be sure through the suit jacket, that he flexed it a little.

  By the time we’d reached my building, we were laughing and chatting and I didn’t want him to go.

  “Come up for a coffee?” I asked. My left eyebrow raised in hope, hope blending into begging.

  Jay pulled me close and squeezed me. “Not tonight.”

  “Tomorrow?”

  “I’m coming for dinner, remember.” He kissed the top of my head but didn’t relax his squeeze on me.

  I looked up and tried not to pout. “But that’s almost two whole weeks away.”

  He released his grip on me, “I know. There’s nothing I can do about it.”

  I stretched up to find his lips, and kissed him lightly, hoping I could entice him. His lips responded, and pushed my lips apart, allowing his tongue to explore my mouth. His hand explored down my side, sliding over the curve of my hip until it made its way around to my ass. My entire body stood on alert, yearning for more.

  All too soon, he broke away from me, leaving me standing, untouched at my door.

  “I’ll see you at dinner,” he said, then turned and walked away.

  12

  The rest of the week dragged. I spent the weekend blitzing my condo, in anticipation of Jay’s visit the following weekend. I hated dusting, but made sure every surface was clean. Then I tackled the chair in my bedroom. It’s the spot I dump clothing, from stuff that had an hour or two of wear and didn’t warrant washing, to stuff I put on to wear and then decided I looked too fat in it.

  I folded everything into two piles, put the clothes from one away, snd stuck the other pile on the top shelf in my closet.

  The work week sucked, Calvin seemed to be getting more and more aggressive towards me. He even wrote up some report on me to HR. Something about my attitude and work ethic. But I did get around to updating my resume, and sent off a copy to Marla as well as a few other agencies I’d found online.

  On Friday after work, Sam, Jenny, Marla and I sat in the bar, sipping margaritas. The three of them chatted about the plans for Jenny’s thirtieth. Even though Jenny was my best friend, I had trouble joining in. Calvin had shit on me all week, and I needed more than a drink to lean on. I needed a hug. Pathetic, I know. I also know Jenny would be more than happy for me to cry on her shoulder, but her big party was only three weeks away and I didn’t want to be a downer.

  “So what are you cooking tomorrow?” Sam asked me.

  “Huh? Oh. I’m going to do a simple lasagna.”

  “The daydreamer awakes,” Jenny laughed.

  “I knew the mention of her date with Jay would pull her out,” Sam laughed.

  I forced a laugh, “I’m sorry girls, I just have a lot on my mind.”

  “Yeah, a lot of cock,” Sam said. They all burst out laughing.

  “Look at her, she’s red,” Marla said.

  “Enough, okay?” But my plea fell on deaf ears.

  “Abbie’s getting laid, Abbie’s getting laid.” Sam chanted.

  “I sure hope so,” I said.

  “Abbie and Jay sitting in a tree,” Jenny sang.

  “No, not that. Just getting laid,” I stated.

  Jenny sighed, my continual resistance to a new relationship drove her nuts, but she was going to have to accept it. I would live the rest of my life in a series of meaningless sexual entanglements.

  “Fine. Whatcha gonna wear?” Jenny asked.

  “I haven’t decided yet. Would it be too forward to open the door naked?”

  “Maybe, if you tie a big red bow around your waist.
” Sam said.

  “Wear that strapless fuchsia number, he’ll be peeling if off you before you can blink,” Jenny said.

  “Are you sure? I don’t look like too much of a floozy in it?”

  “Just wear it already,” Sam said.

  “Here, we got you a present.” Jenny tossed a small box wrapped in red heart paper onto the table. I furrowed my brow, what on earth were they up to now? I picked up the parcel and shook, it was light and didn’t make much sound.

  “Just open it already,” Sam said.

  I tore off the paper. “Nice,” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm as I held the three pack of condoms aloft.

  “We figured it wouldn’t occur to you to buy some,” said Jenny.

  “You’re right,” I said laughing, “when’s the last time I’ve even seen a condom?” I had been on the pill since Matt moved in with me. After he moved out, I stayed on it because it made my periods more bearable. For whatever reason, disease prevention didn’t occur to me.

  “Put them in your purse, and when you get home remember to put them beside your bed!” Jenny said, and the four of us burst out laughing.

  13

  I buzzed Jay up and awaited his arrival at the door. I hiked the strapless fuchsia dress up one last time. It would be a struggle to not keep pulling at it during dinner but I would have to force myself.

  The noise of the elevator door opening carried down the hall, and Jay’s footsteps rushed over the carpet. I didn’t wait for him to knock, and opened the door.

  “Hi Beautiful,” Jay said, his eyes roaming over me.

  He was wearing another pair of jeans that clung to his thighs. I couldn’t wait for him to turn around to get a look at his ass in them. On top he wore a buttoned dress shirt that stretched tight over his muscles.

  Jay held out a bouquet of sunflowers. Our fingers brushed as I accepted them from him, the touch rousing. Attached to the bottom of the bouquet was a DVD of The Clock. My heart paused when I saw it. I can’t believe he even remembers that conversation.

  “I hope you still have a DVD player.”

  “Thank you, I love them, both the flowers and the movie. I haven’t watched it in ages,” I said, and went up on my tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

  As I leaned into him, he planted his hand on my hip, sending electricity throughout me. We stayed still like that for a moment, before I moved aside to let him into my condo.

  “I thought we could watch it tonight.”

  “That’s a great idea. I’ll put these in some water,” I said, waving the sunflowers and walking to the kitchen area.

  “It smells wonderful in here,” he said.

  “I hope you like lasagna.”

  “Love it. See you’ve still got the jeans on the wall.”

  “Of course, they stay there until the day I can wear them.”

  Jay laughed. “Here, I also brought bubbles.” He held out a foil topped bottle.

  “Ah, you didn’t have to do that. It’s too much.”

  “No it isn’t.” He pulled off the foil and the little wire cage. With expertise, he pushed his thumbs against the cork and it popped.

  “I’m sorry, I don’t have any champagne glasses.”

  “That doesn’t matter, regular wine glasses will do.”

  I pulled some out of the cupboard, and he poured us each a glass.

  “Thanks,” I said as he passed me one.

  “A toast, to a wonderful dinner with,” Jay paused, his eyes boring into me, “the most beautiful woman I’ve ever had the pleasure of dining with.”

  A lump formed in my throat at his words. And I could tell by the look in his eyes that he was being sincere. I chinked my glass to his, wishing I could find some kind words to say back to him.

  Instead, I set my glass down and kissed him.

  His lips were wet with champagne, and fizzled on my lips. He pulled me tight against his body while our mouths explored each other. My heart thudded in my chest, not quite believing the only thing that had kept me going through my hellish week was actually happening.

  I pressed myself a little harder against him, squeezing out all the air between us. The exposed skin on my shoulders zinged underneath the pressure of his fingertips. I urged him to take a few steps backwards until he was standing beside the sofa. Thank goodness for bijoux living. I took another step, sending him toppling backwards onto the sofa, and me with him.

  “Whoa,” he blurted as he tumbled but found my lips against to continue our kiss.

  In our tumble, my breasts popped out of my dress and partially out of my strapless bra. But Jay didn’t seem to notice. Or if he did, he didn’t react. Instead his hands caressed my exposed back, then ran over my dress and stopped on my behind.

  I let out a soft moan of approval as his hand lingered on me and pressed into my cheeks. His hardened cock dug into me, with incredible restraint, I refrained from reaching down and grabbing it.

  With me on top of him, he craned his head to nuzzle my neck, trailing kisses to my shoulders. I reached up and ran my fingers through his luxurious hair. Without warning, he hoisted me up so that my breast dangled on his lips, making me gasp.

  His wet tongue lapped at my breast, working its way closer and closer to my nipple, still hidden in my bra. He reached the edge of my bra and pulled it aside with his teeth.

  The oven timer bleeped. Again and again. I cursed it.

  “You need to get that,” Jay said.

  “No, just ignore it.” But it wasn’t going to stop until I pushed the button.

  He pushed me off of him and sat. “You’ve worked hard on it, you don’t want it to burn.”

  “Trust me, it’s not hard to make, and it’s lasagna, the worst that will happen is it browns a little on top.” The high pitched beeping continued.

  Jay stood, “Get it.”

  I walked to the oven, wondering how he had managed to order me to do something. Before I knew it, he was alongside me, holding the plates while I cut two pieces from the pan.

  We sat opposite each other at my little two seater table. At least he seemed to be enjoying my cooking. And hungry. He looked hungry. Maybe that’s why he was inhaling my mediocre lasagna. Maybe that’s why he stopped our activities on the sofa when the timer went.

  “I have a confession,” he said.

  I pulled the forkful of food away from my mouth to listen. “What?”

  “I, um. I don’t know how to say this.”

  My skin prickled and my brow creased. This was weird. Definitely weird.

  He continued. “I stopped earlier,” he gestured towards the sofa, “because I didn’t want to do anything until you knew the truth.”

  I set my fork down, the food falling from it, and thought of Matt. “What are you talking about?”

  He swallowed and shuffled in his seat. “I wanted you to know how much I care about you. More than care. I’m really,” he paused, “into you, and I thought it was important for you to know before we, you know.”

  Shit. Now I feel like a scummy scumbag. Should I tell him I don’t want a serious relationship? Especially when I’m about thirty minutes away from having my bare skin pressed up against his?

  I smiled and picked up my fork. “You had me scared there for a minute. I thought you were going to tell me you’re not who I think you are.”

  He smiled back, his lips tight together. He didn’t say anything else, but picked up his fork and continued to eat. The remainder of our meal was quiet, and I couldn’t stop thinking about Matt and what he’d done to me. And how I had to tell Jay I wasn’t looking for anything serious.

  14

  I cleared our empty plates and sat back down opposite him, twirling the wine in my glass.

  “I didn’t mean to scare you earlier,” he said grinning, “forget I said anything.”

  Can’t un-hear the heard, Jay. But his words relaxed me a little, and his grin relaxed me a whole lot. How was it possible for me to have such a perfect specimen of a man in my home?

&nbs
p; I smiled at him, “Are you ready for dessert?”

  “Not quite. You seem stressed, is everything okay?”

  “Yeah, fine.” Do I tell him? This is my chance. I don’t want a relationship, just say it already. “Just a bad week at work is all.”

  Jay perked up, “Why, what happened?”

  “My boss has it in for me and has been on my ass all week.” I took a long drink of my wine to cope with the thought of Calvin.

  “What did you do?” he asked.

  “I sent out a bunch of resumes. I know I haven’t been with the company long and it will look bad, but I’ve got to get out before I’m forced out,” I said.

  “Why would you be forced out?” I felt like Jay was grilling me.

  “Realistically? Calvin hates me because I threaten him. He’s never had a good idea, is clearly in over his head and knows I could expose him any time.”

  “How?”

  “I have proof, a stack of emails I printed before he had the chance to delete them, of him asking me the most basic questions.”

  “So why don’t you?”

  I shrugged. “I guess I’m not that kind of person.”

  Jay leaned forward, his head nearly reaching my side of the table. “Give those emails to his boss on Monday.”

  “Maybe.”

  “No. Do it. I mean it.” The sudden forcefulness of his voice and his aggressive body language unnerved me.

  “Why? Is that what you did in your last job? How did that work out for you?” I snapped.

  Jay shook his head, but didn’t lean back from my side of the table. “Abbie, this isn’t about me.”

  “This isn’t about an unemployed man giving me job advice? I have a mortgage to pay you know. Not everyone can swan around unconcerned about having any income.”

  He leaned away, but sat and stared at me. My skin itched wherever his eyes bore into me.

  “Do you even try to find a job?”

  “Abbie, it’s not like that.”

  “What’s it like then, Jay?” I spat his name. “What have you done? Have you taken any classes? Brushed up your skills?"

 

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