Heat Wave: A Summer Loving Anthology

by Anthology

  There’s a perfectly good explanation for this. She’s a witch, an enchantress, a sorceress, and she’s put a spell on me. There’s no other plausible reason why I just walked into a blatant trap with Milo Greyson’s daughter. Yeah, he can definitely make my career. But he can just as easily break it. Even now, knowing that, my head keeps telling me to turn this truck around and go back to her apartment. It’s a good thing the head on my shoulders is the one making the decisions tonight.

  As I climb into bed alone, I’m kicking myself for not bringing Mali home with me tonight instead of telling her to come in the morning. I could’ve spent all night memorizing every inch of her body, the sounds she makes, and what she likes the most. “That’s it. I’m fucking calling her and telling her to come over now,” I tell the darkness.

  Then I realize that I didn’t get her number before I ran out of her condo and I groan loudly. “Just great. Now I have to call Jennifer myself since Vince won’t ask her. She’ll put my balls in her pink purse, too, and I’ll only have yearly visitation rights.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  MALI

  AFTER JAGGER LEFT MY condo last night, I tried to go to sleep but ended up tossing and turning more than anything. As I thought back over our conversation, I realized how pathetic and desperate I sounded and decided to call the whole arrangement off.

  It’s now seven a.m. and I’m running on a total of maybe two hours of sleep and an entire pot of coffee. I’m so far beyond mortified at my behavior that I don’t think I can face him today. My only excuse is the alcohol clouded my judgment and I suffered from temporary insanity. The view from my balcony helps clear my head and I have no doubt that fate helped me dodge a huge bullet last night.

  When I usually have to cancel plans with someone, I call, apologize profusely, and explain the situation. Since I didn’t get his number before he left last night, I can’t call or even text to say I won’t be there. I only have his address, which is completely stupid of me and further proof that I wasn’t thinking clearly.

  It’s too early to call Jennifer and ask for it. But even if I do, I can’t explain why I need it. She’ll think I hooked up with him, he snuck out while I slept, and I’m chasing him now. Or, she’ll think that I want to hook up with him and I’ll never hear the end of it after she warned me off of him on the way to the club that night.

  While I try to determine how to handle this, I decide to take my shower and get dressed. I’m wide-awake and won’t be able to sleep anytime soon anyway. The hot water spray feels so good as it massages my neck and shoulders. That’s when it hits me, the solution to this whole mess.

  There’s no reason for me to call or text him. No reason for me to have his phone number at all. He’ll probably be relieved when I don’t show up. My stupid idea isn’t something he willingly wanted to do anyway. Besides, he probably wouldn’t have lived up to his end of the bargain. I shake my head at my own naiveté.

  “Yeah, as if a guy like Jagger York would settle for being with only me all summer.”

  By the time I finish dressing and styling my long brunette hair, it’s almost eight a.m. and I haven’t had a bite to eat. My stomach was in knots at just the thought of facing Jagger today, but it just growled at me and demanded food. When I bounce into the kitchen and pour a bowl of cereal, my cell phone alerts me to a new text.

  As soon as I open the text from a number I don’t recognize, my appetite completely disappears.

  Hey Wildcat, this is Jagger. Don’t even think about standing me up. My place. 10 a.m.

  Shit.

  I quickly type my reply.

  Hey there. How did you get my number?

  Jagger: Woke up Vince and Jennifer

  Me: You’re brave. Jen’s not a morning person.

  Jagger: Found that out the hard way–lol

  Now is my chance to tell him I’m calling this whole crazy idea off. All I have to do is make my thumbs type the words. I start typing and quickly delete. I start again but those words aren’t right either. As I start typing a third time, I see the three little dots that tell me Jagger is sending a message.

  Jagger: I thought about your idea all night…

  I hold my breath as he continues typing.

  Jagger: Hardly slept at all…

  Same here, Jagger, I think but don’t respond. He’s typing again.

  Jagger: Very original. You shocked me…

  He’s doing this on purpose. Teasing, tempting, and pulling me into him. His plan is definitely working.

  Jagger: You probably sensed my hesitation…

  Here it comes. He’s going to dump me before this goes any further. Disappointment floods me, despite the fact that I’ve unsuccessfully tried three times to say it to him first.

  Jagger: But it’s a brilliant idea. So quit trying to get out of our deal and get your ass over here.

  Wait. What?

  Jagger: You’re not backing out on me. I’m all yours for the summer.

  Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit.

  Me: How did you know?

  Jagger: Come over and I’ll tell you.

  Me: Now?

  Jagger: ASAP. Bring your bathing suit.

  Before I change my mind, I save his contact information in my phone. I grab my bathing suit, slip on my flip flops, and hop in my Infinity G37 convertible. I key his address in my GPS and put the top down for the drive to Jagger’s place in Coral Gables.

  It doesn’t take long before I pull into the driveway of a gorgeous, single story Spanish Mediterranean home. There are immaculately landscaped flower and shrub beds, the grass is perfectly lush and green, and walkways connect the front and back yards. It’s like an island sanctuary and I’m thoroughly enjoying the scenery when the front door opens.

  Now I’m enjoying the scenery for a very different reason. Jagger stands in the doorway–shirtless. My eyes devour his bare chest and his well-defined abs. I let my eyes follow the happy trail from his navel to his denim shorts, down his muscular legs, and to his bare feet.

  He clears his throat conspicuously and my eyes fly up to meet his. “Wildcat, if you keep looking at me like that, we won’t have any time to talk first.”

  My face heats with my intense embarrassment and I drop my chin to my chest. I hear his chuckle before he softly calls to me. “Get over here, Mali.”

  My feet hear his command and they take over where my brain fails me. His hand under my chin lifts my face until I’m looking into his chocolate brown eyes. “I’m glad you’re here,” he says sincerely. “Come inside.”

  He steps to the side to give me room to pass and I walk inside. I hear the door click behind me and I turn to look at him. He leans against the door, blocks my exit, and continues to speak.

  “I had my doubts that you’d actually show up. Thought I’d have to toss you over my shoulder and bring you myself.”

  “How’d you know?” I ask. My curiosity always gets the best of me.

  “Things usually look different in the light of day, especially after you’ve had time to sleep on it. You second-guessed yourself because what you really want is contrary to what you’ve been taught. Change is uncomfortable, and we all gravitate to what’s comfortable.

  “I knew if I stayed last night, you’d wake up today and regret it because you’d made a rash decision in the heat of the moment,” he explains. “But, you made a conscious decision to come to me today. So make your final decision now and stick to it. Just know that whatever you choose, there’s no changing it later. What do you really want?”

  He just put the ball back in my court. His text said he wouldn’t let me back out on him, but he’s giving me the power to decide. I have the feeling when he said I can’t change my mind later, he actually means his offer is a now or never kind of deal. He won’t be here if I say no and later change my mind.

  What do I really want?

  “I don’t want to back out on you,” I admit. “I want to go through with our arrangement. Should we discuss the rules?”

  �
�Sure. You go first,” he smiles. He knows this conversation makes me uncomfortable.

  “I know I said it last night, but I can’t stress this enough. If you can’t handle complete monogamy, I won’t even start this,” I insist.

  He tilts his head to the side, narrows his eyes, and flashes the sexiest half-smile I’ve ever seen. “Deal,” he says with a slight nod. “I have a feeling you’ll keep me so busy I won’t even have time to look.”

  “Your turn,” I urge.

  “This is the one rule I can’t stress enough. Do not get attached to me. We’re not falling in love, getting married, having kids, and living happily ever after. You won’t change my mind on this, so don’t even try,” he bluntly asserts.

  “Deal,” I agree. “Can we not tell your family that we’re basically just fuck buddies, though? That’s embarrassing for me.”

  He inhales deeply as he considers my request. I know I’ve just asked him to lie to his family, but I can’t help but think that’s the lesser of two evils. “Fine. I’ll tell them you’re my girlfriend, but my sister will see straight through it. Don’t be surprised when she calls bullshit to your face.”

  “Thanks for the warning.” I purse my lips to the side and give him a dubious look.

  “I’ll push you past your boundaries. Regardless of how uncomfortable you feel, you can’t run away from me,” he stipulates.

  “Fine. Anything else?” I ask.

  He pushes off the door and crosses the floor to stand directly in front of me. He’s taller than I am by at least six inches so I tilt my head back to look him in the eye. “Two more things, actually,” he whispers as his arms circle my waist. “One, you have to trust me. I’d never physically hurt you.”

  “And two?” I ask on bated breath.

  “Two,” he lowers his lips to mine. “I can kiss these lips whenever I want.”

  “You know, Jagger, you don’t have to ‘wine and dine’ me,” I reply. “I’ll keep my end of the deal and get my dad to listen to your music.”

  “I know you will, Mali. I just really want to kiss you again,” he murmurs against my lips.

  He urgently pulls me to him and takes full possession of my mouth. His lips are so soft but also so insistent. His tongue seductively licks the part in my lips before he completely takes control of my body. His hand slides over my breast, his thumb stops when it finds the beaded tip of my nipple, and his calloused pad caresses it through the fabric of my shirt. My fingers curl into his flesh when he increases his pressure.

  He slides his hand downward, across my stomach, into my shorts, and strokes the sensitive skin beneath the band of my panties. “Touch me, Mali,” he urges me between kisses.

  I slide my hands over his chest and across his stomach before I reach the button of his shorts. I easily unbutton and unzip them with a gentle tug, slip my hand inside, and firmly wrap my fingers as far around him as they’ll go.

  He moans into my mouth when I slide my hand from base to tip. His hand moves further down, to the apex of my thighs, and his finger lightly brushes over my clit. The urge to take control of his hand becomes overwhelming. I begin to push his shorts down with my other hand when the sound of chimes ring throughout the house.

  His motions still and he groans in frustration. “My mom and dad are here. They’re too fucking early,” he growls.

  Those words are the equivalent of pouring a bucket of ice water over both of us. I back away from him and straighten my clothes simultaneously. “What?” I hiss. “Oh my God! Button your shorts back!”

  Jagger laughs as he adjusts them. “Okay, okay. Keep your panties on,” he winks. “My shorts don’t exactly hide everything, you know.”

  I’m the one who needs to find somewhere to hide. Maybe I’ll go out the back door and come back around to the front door in a few minutes, and pretend I just got here. Except my car is outside. Shit!

  “Calm down,” Jagger says as he casts a sideways glance at me. “It’s not a big deal.”

  Jagger walks to the front door and swings it wide open. A shorter, younger, female version of him squeals in delight. “Jagger, I’ve missed you!”

  He gestures to his crotch, then jerks his thumb over his shoulder toward me before he shrugs nonchalantly. “I’ve missed you, too, sis. I’ll have to take a rain check on the hug, though.”

  She snickers and peeks around him to get a good look at me. Jagger looks over his shoulder and winks at me while flashing the most devilish smile I’ve ever seen. His parents are both full of smiles, and maybe even slightly hiding their mirth at catching us in this state. I am beyond mortified as I cover my face with my hands for a second. Jagger, of course, looks so pleased with his shenanigans.

  I’m going to kill him as soon as his family isn’t looking.

  “How’s my boy been?” his mom asks as she pats his cheek.

  “I’m good, Mom. Come on in,” he steps to the side and puts me in full view.

  “Hey,” his sister approaches me with obvious curiosity. “I’m Cass, Jagger’s sister.”

  “Hi, Cass. I’m Mali Greyson. It’s nice to meet you,” I reply. I don’t have it in me to add the ‘I’m his girlfriend’ lie to my introduction. Although, it’d probably be better than the introduction he just gave me.

  Cass turns to question Jagger with her eyes. His mom and dad both wait for him to elaborate. He smiles widely at me as the words roll off his tongue. “Mali is my girlfriend, Cass.”

  She gasps and her head swings between the two of us several times before she’s able to speak again. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

  And it’s started.

  “Don’t be ugly,” their dad chastises her. “Hello, Mali. I’m Dwayne, Jagger’s dad. This is Marlene, Jagger’s mother.”

  “Hello, Mali,” Marlene adds.

  “Hello Dwayne, Marlene. It’s very nice to meet all of you,” I reply with a smile.

  “Make yourselves at home,” Jagger says. “You know where your bedrooms are.”

  Cass eyes us suspiciously as Jagger moves behind me and wraps his arms around my waist. His chin rests on my shoulder and his cheek is pressed against mine. He slightly turns his face toward mine and places a soft kiss on my cheek. Playing my part, I curl into him and cover his arms with mine.

  Cass nods absently before she follows Dwayne and Marlene down the hall toward where I assume the bedrooms are located. Jagger whispers in my ear and cold chills instantly cover my arm. “If you don’t spend the night with me, she’ll know we’re lying. You’d better plan on staying.”

  What have I gotten myself into?

  CHAPTER SIX

  JAGGER

  “WHAT’S GOING ON WITH those two?” I ask Cass in a brusque whisper, jerk my head toward my parents, and furrow my brow.

  She rolls her eyes before she answers. “It’s sickening, right? They haven’t been able to keep their hands off of each other for the past six months.” She mockingly gags as she points her finger in her mouth. “I keep chanting ‘one more semester in college’ in my head. It’s totally unfair that you never come home and share in my pain.”

  I chuckle and shake my head. “We’ve had this discussion before, little sister. I had them alone for the first three of years of my life. They’re all yours now.”

  “What’s wrong with them?” Mali asks with an incredulous laugh. “They love each other. You can’t fault them for that.”

  Cass and I exchange glances before I turn to explain the situation. “They never got along while we were growing up. I remember one fight after another during my whole childhood. Now, they seem like completely different people.”

  Cass concurs. “It was like a switch flipped one day, and they became all lovey-dovey, and sweet, and gross. Those people in there are not our parents.”

  I glance around the corner of the kitchen and see my mom sitting in my dad’s lap, her arms around his neck, and their mouths locked in a passionate kiss. No child, regardless of age, should be subjected to this kind of abuse. “It’s li
ke my whole life has been a lie,” I sigh.

  Mali openly laughs at my soul-splintering pain. “You’re kidding, right?”

  When Cass and I just stare at her, dumbfounded, she continues. “My parents separated for a while when I was younger because they fought constantly. If Dad said the sky was blue, Mom would argue that it was actually cerulean. Just being around them was exhausting for everyone else.

  “Mom moved out for a while and they seriously considered divorce. My parents even went to a divorce counselor to learn how to avoid scarring me for life. The counselor helped them see they didn’t really want a divorce–they wanted a better relationship. No matter how much work it was, Mom and Dad never backed down from the challenge.

  “Their marriage is stronger today than ever and they’re very loving to each other like your parents are. Maybe Dwayne and Marlene went through something similar.” Mali shares her family’s story as she watches my parents. Wistful longing brews in her eyes and makes me question what she’s really thinking.

  “You know, you may be onto something, Mali.” Cass reflects on Mali’s story and how our parents have changed. “There was a time that they stopped fighting, but they were barely speaking at all. I just thought they were giving each other the silent treatment, which was fine with me. Better that than the constant bickering. That was right before they turned into–this,” she gestures toward them.

  Mali’s eyes swing around and meet mine before moving on to look at Cass. “They really look happy together, Cass.”

  This takes Cass aback and her eyes drift back to the oddly happy couple occupying my couch. “They do look happy, don’t they?”

  Pulling Cass’s attention back to the task at hand, we finish making drinks and snacks for everyone and walk into the den. Mom and Dad stop their impromptu make-out session as Mali, Cass, and I set the plates and glasses on the coffee table.