by Piper Rayne
Jagger starts his Spyder, wearing his slacks from last night and his dress shirt untucked, the top three buttons open and exposing his strong chest. He’s hot even when he’s disheveled.
“Sorry about your suit,” I murmur, tucking my overnight bag between my feet.
“I’ll send you the bill.” He cocks a brow, pulling away from the curb.
I freak out every time he drives this car over to my house. Not that I live in a bad neighborhood, but there aren’t a lot of Maseratis mixed in with the Hondas and Fords. “Please do.”
“I can think of other ways you can pay me back.”
I laugh, rolling down my window to feel the fresh air. “I’ll bet you can.”
His hand slides over to my leg, the strength and size even more obvious when it’s on my bare skin. “You have no idea the things I have in mind for us.”
I’m not sure if he’s talking about wanting me as a sex slave or something more serious, but I don’t respond, letting it hang in the air. No way I am ruining a lazy day on the beach with Jagger next to me.
His cell rings through the car and I see it’s Isa before he presses the accept button.
“Hey, Isa. You’re on speaker and Quinn’s in the car.”
“Oh. Okay. So, you really did come to your senses?” she asks, not at all weirded out that we’re together.
“Took me fourteen years, but yeah.” He smiles over at me and I roll up my window so we can hear better, which sucks because we’re just about to hit the ocean.
“I know you were out with friends and you probably haven’t had a chance to talk, but you don’t need to.” Isa is trying to be discreet.
“We talked, and you know I’d do it in a heartbeat, but Quinn…” How can he do this? What is he so afraid of? Marisol is like his mother.
“I’ll do it,” I say before Jagger can tell her any different.
He pulls over to the side of the street, his knuckles white where he grips the steering wheel.
So long, relaxing day. Hello, battlefield.
I shoot him a look. “Can you hold on, Isa?”
“Um, okay,” she says.
I click the mute button, grabbing his hands in mine. Raising one hand to his cheek, I let him see the conviction in my eyes. “She’s your pseudo-mom. The woman who practically raised you. I’m healthy, Jagger. There’s no reason to ever think I would need two kidneys. Let me do this for her and for you.”
I stroke his hand with my thumb when I see the pained expression on his face. He’s struggling to accept this.
“What if?”
“Jagger, there are a ton of ‘what ifs’. Maybe I was meant to find her flyer, meant to get back into both of your lives in order to save her.”
He rolls his eyes. “Let’s not get too woo-woo over this.”
“You’ll be there with me through this, my rock.”
“I don’t know, Quinn, something could go wrong.”
I grip his hand. “I’m not asking for permission, Jagger, I’m asking you to stand by my side when I do it.”
His eyes widen. Control freak.
“So, regardless of my wishes…” His forehead creases.
“I’m doing it. I’m not going to let a woman die whom I can save. I think that’s what you like about me, so…”
He takes off the mute, pursing his lips and nodding his head toward the speaker.
“Isa,” I say.
“Hey, guys, what I was saying…”
“I’ll do it. Let the doctor and Marisol know I’ll be donating my kidney.”
“Really?” Isa’s astonished voice silences the conversation. “Jeez, Quinn, that’s amazing. Selfless and… I’m at a loss for words, but I was calling because I got a hold of my uncle in Mexico last week. I didn’t want to say anything until I knew for sure because you know how Mom is, but he’s a match, too. And a better match than you since he’s a blood relative.”
Jagger’s stiff shoulders fall with relief.
“We just have to get him up here, which is the hard part because of getting a visa and the cost.”
“I’ll cover everything,” Jagger says immediately. “What do I need to do to get him here?”
Jagger pulls away from the curb and his hand rubs up and down my thigh as we drive to his place while Isa fills us in on the procedure of transplants with foreign donors.
When we pull into Jagger’s garage, they’ve divided up the tasks. Seriously, these two should try to see if they can broker peace with North Korea.
They hang up and he looks over at me, a relieved smile in place. “Now I’m even more relaxed.”
I roll my eyes, opening the car door and waiting for him to join me.
“Would you really have done it?” He exits the car and walks to the door into the house. His hand rests on the doorknob into his house, waiting for my answer.
“Yes.”
“Whether I cared for it or not?”
I suck my lips into my mouth. “Yes, Jagger, whether you cared for it or not.”
“Fuck.” He opens the door, holding it open for me to walk through.
“You can’t be that mad. Surely I’m not the first person to not abide by your wishes.” I drop my bag on his steel-framed chair. “By the way, where do you veg out?” I ask, glancing around his space. It’s gorgeous, but it’s all very stark and not very relaxing.
“What? I don’t.” He starts unbuttoning his shirt, toeing out of his shoes. “And yes, you are the only woman to not listen to me.”
“And?” I ask, leaning against his chair.
“I’m screwed.”
“Because I won’t let you boss me around?”
“No.” He steps toward me, every inch closer, undoing another button until he stands in front of me with an open shirt and a bulging hard-on in his slacks. “It makes me hot.” He grabs my waist and pulls me to him. “It makes me want to fight with you just to fuck you into submission.”
“So, I should tell you again how I’ll listen to your opinion but that doesn’t mean I’m going to take it.” His eyes lock with mine, a test of wills in a way.
He bends down and hauls me over his shoulder, slaps my ass and heads up the stairs to his bedroom.
“Opposite way to the beach.” I smack his ass back.
“Jesus, woman, why are you always arguing with me?” He laughs, his hand now venturing under the bottom of my shorts.
“If you get turned on when I disagree with you, I’m surprised we’re not nymphos.”
“We already are nymphos, Belle.”
The sound of my nickname leaving his lips warms me inside.
He stops in front of his bed, my body sliding down his front.
“It’s not my fault you can’t keep your hands to yourself.” I playfully flutter my eyelids like I’m an irresistible princess.
He steps back. “So, you don’t like me touching you?”
“Well…” I grin, letting him know I’m joking.
He raises his hands in the air. “Bet accepted.”
“No.” I rush forward, my palms on his chest. “No bet.”
“If you touch me, then I can touch you.”
I freeze, twirling my finger around in the air. “Are you playing some game here just to get all hot and bothered with delayed gratification?”
With a cocky smirk, he strips off his shirt, unbuttons his pants and they drop to the floor.
“Commando? Seriously, Jagger?”
His smirk grows.
“I’ll be on the beach in my bikini.” I tear off my t-shirt, revealing my pink bikini, and his eyes widen, the smirk dropping from his face. “That’s right, big boy. Game on.”
His deep chuckle slowly fades as I grab my bag and head out his sliding door. Jagger and his games—if only I didn’t enjoy them as much as he does.
I lay my towel down on the sand, slip out of my shorts, exaggerating my movements in case he’s staring out the window. What am I talking about? Of course, he’s watching.
I stand from my bent
-over position, sliding my fingers under the elastic of my swimsuit bottom, pulling the fabric out slightly. I exaggerate spraying sunscreen on my body, winding and twisting my limbs to get it to reach my back. As seductively as one can, I sit down on my towel, pulling my hair into a messy bun on my head, and lie down on my stomach, pulling out my book.
I’m engrossed in chapter two when Jagger strolls onto the beach to join me. Without lifting my head, I discreetly sneak a peek out of the corner of my eye.
Jackass.
He’s in board shorts that fit him snug enough to see how strong his thighs are. His hair is wet, from the shower no doubt. If there was a men’s Sports Illustrated swimsuit edition, he’d be the cover model.
“How are you doing?” he asks, positioning his towel right next to me, pulling out a book, lying down. In the same position.
“What are you reading?” I ask.
“Sci-fi, you?” He leans over, the smell of soap acting as an aphrodisiac to my lady parts.
“Women’s fiction. It’s about a woman who swears off men.”
His face distorts into a ‘why would I read that’ expression. “Sounds worthless.”
I stick my bookmark in, close my book and roll over. “I don’t know, men are quite the distraction.”
“A distraction from what?” he rolls over as well, positioning his sunglasses on his face, and he slides down his board shorts a tad so that his groin cleavage is nice and pronounced for my viewing pleasure.
“Take right now. If I wasn’t dating you, I’d be home working—finishing my book. You’re a distraction.” I look over at him and his smirk is already present. I wait for his comeback.
“I take it as a compliment that I’m a distraction. Maybe you’d be working if I wasn’t here, but let me ask you…” He leans up on his elbows, looking side to side. “Do your dildos and vibrators do half the job I do? Imagine your own fingers trying to mimic what my magic ones do. Admit it, baby, you enjoy my distractions.”
I can’t deny the wetness pooling between my legs. Since he won’t be touching me, he’ll never find out until this game is over. I plan on marking a win next to my game for this one.
I sit up. “I think I’m going for a swim.” Rising to my feet, I slowly walk toward the ocean, dipping my toes in.
From the shivers up my spine, he’s staring. My body is always aware of him. Once I’m calf level, I cup the water in my palm and pour it over my breasts, making my nipples hard and erect. When I’m waist deep, I bend backwards, wetting my hair, leaving my tits above the surface.
He stays planted on his towel, his eyes glued to me, but I need him to move. I want him to be unable to take it until he runs into the water, slides the crotch of my swimsuit to the side and fucks me as the waves roll into shore.
Go big or go home.
A wave comes over my shoulders and my body lifts my feet from the sandy bottom. Reaching in the back, I undo my bra, tucking it in the bottom of my swimsuit, then I turn my back to the beach so he knows I’m topless.
“Fuck!” Jagger screams and I glance over my shoulder, finding him sprinting into the water. “You play dirty,” he whispers when his arms wrap around me, and I laugh.
“Fuck me,” I say, twirling around and climbing up his long frame.
“You don’t have to ask me twice.” With some untying and sliding of fabric, he enters me as he heads deeper into the ocean. Not that it matters—these are private beaches and we’re thankful none of his neighbors are out to enjoy the day like us.
“Now.” I place my arms around his neck, my mouth inches from his. “Say I won.”
His head falls to my shoulder, shaking back and forth. “You won…this time.”
“Say I’m the best.”
He thrusts into me and a groan leaves my throat. “Don’t push it, baby, we both know you wanted this.”
“I could have done without it.” I shrug.
He freezes, and a wave lifts us up and back down.
I giggle, holding myself tighter to his body, needing the friction. “I’m joking. I’m joking.”
“That’s what I thought.”
Game over.
Funny how losing feels a whole lot like winning with this man.
22
Jagger
Waking up on Monday mornings sucks. After I showed weakness and ran into the ocean yesterday—because damn if my Peeping Tom neighbors are scoring a picture of my girl without her top on—we lay around, reading and eating.
“I don’t want to go back to real life. Can we stay here forever?” Quinn stretches, my sheets tangled between her legs.
I place the coffee mug on her nightstand and sit down, rubbing her bare ass. “Promise me you’ll never sleep in pajamas ever again?”
She peeks through the long dark strands of hair that have fallen over her head. “Well, that could be a problem in the future.”
“Why?”
She turns around, not embarrassed in the slightest that her tits are hanging out. God, I fucking love my girl’s confidence. “Do you think Layla and Vance sleep naked?”
“Um, no. Imagine if Payne walked in. I mean Via wouldn’t understand anything, but Payne’s first glimpse at tits should not be his mom’s. That’s all kinds of wrong.”
She smiles and widens her eyes as though I’m missing the obvious.
“Oh, shit. You’re taking us into the kid zone? Baby, what’s happening here is amazing. I’ve got a sold sign around my neck, but I’m not converting into a four-bedroom in Pasadena.” I chuckle.
Her chest rises and falls, the smile knocked off her face. “I wasn’t talking about now, but I guess I see where you stand on that issue.” She slides across the bed, exiting on my side, disappearing into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.
“Guess I fucked up,” I mumble. “We could start with a dog or something?” I call out.
Only silence greets me.
“I gave you my favorite mug and everything.” I fall to the bed, deflated that this morning started out on the wrong foot after such a great day yesterday.
“I guess I should feel special?” She beelines it out of the bathroom, pulling on her shorts.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. I’ll drive you home.” I sit up, sliding to the edge.
“Maybe you should call your special Uber guy for one-night stands.”
“Baby, I told him weeks ago I wouldn’t need him anymore.” I grin.
Her face drops. “You seriously had an Uber guy?” she says with disgust. Clearly, she didn’t appreciate my joke.
“I’m a gentleman.” I grip her hips so she can’t go anywhere.
She still doesn’t find me funny, so I drop the cocky act. “Sorry, of course kids are in the cards for us. I told you, you’re it for me. I just have to get there. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“Here’s a tip. Don’t joke about one-night stands when I’m already pissed off at you.” She juts her hip out.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m a moron.”
She raises her eyebrows. “Yep, you are.” She plants a chaste kiss on my lips. “I’ll forgive you.”
I bring her down to my lap, my hand wrapping around her neck, pulling her in for a real kiss.
“Everything’s okay though?” Leo asks me over Bluetooth in the car.
“Yeah, I may have overreacted.” I drive into downtown L.A. on the way to my office. Never in my life have I wanted a day to be over more than this one.
“You? Never.”
I don’t bother responding to that. “I have to work my magic and get Marisol’s brother up here from Mexico. He’s going to be her donor.”
“That’s great.” Barking dogs ring out over the line.
“Where are you?” I ask.
“Tee and I are doing a catalog for Canine Couture. The shoot is today. You should stop by.”
“Yeah, no, thanks. I love Coop, but dogs are messy and sloppy.”
He chuckles, and my car pulls into the parking lot of my office building. “I’m glad you guy
s are okay. Just checking in. I have your bottle of whiskey, by the way.”
“Keep it. I’m pulling into the office now. I’ll catch you later.”
“See you.”
I click the Bluetooth off, park in my reserved spot and head up to my office.
Greg is already waiting in a chair with Victoria when I get there. He’s in his usual khaki pants and plaid button-down. Since he doesn’t see clients, he gets away with business casual.
“Good morning.” I say, walking into my office.
Victoria follows, Greg doesn’t.
“So, thanks for letting me take off early on Friday again.”
I take off my suit jacket, hanging it on a hanger outside my bathroom door, and sit down in my chair, pulling out my laptop and book from my bag.
“Why is Greg here?” I ask, disregarding her thank you.
“Something about the new division. He wants to know if he can talk to you for a few minutes. Do you want me to send him in?”
“Yeah, but first sit down.” I motion to the chair on the other side of my desk.
She takes a seat, her legs locked together, her hands clasped in her lap.
“I need to get a guy a visa from Mexico to come here to give Marisol a kidney. Can you get me all information I need to get it done on this end? I have someone working on it in Mexico. It has to be quick.”
She nods and then stands. “I’ll have something to you by lunch.”
“Perfect.”
She leaves the office and then stops, circling back around. “Oh, your cousin called again. He wants a lunch date today.”
“How busy am I?”
“You can fit it in.”
“Okay, confirm it with him, but set it up here. I don’t want to deal with going out in public and evading all his crazy fans.”
Her eyebrows crinkle. “There might be some fans in here, too. I looked him up online after we spoke about him last time.”
“Don’t you start loving on my crazy cousin. He’s too young for you.”
She brings her hand to her waist and cocks a hip out. “Just how old do you think I am?”
She leaves the office before I can respond, which is probably better. My jokes haven’t been hitting their mark today.
