“Yeah, but I saw it in New Orleans, too.”
“What did you see?” Sarah whispers, looking a little scared.
“When you were dancing on that table.”
Her eyes close in embarrassment. “Can we please never bring that up again?”
“You were miserable. But acting like you could hack it. And your dancing was terrible.”
She laughs, “Thanks a lot!”
Her smile brings out my own. “You’re welcome.”
She shakes her head and walks to the kitchen. “Can I have some water?”
“Of course.”
I watch her open the fridge, her curvy body perfectly displayed in those black jeans and halter, except she’s got a sports bra on. I know for a fact her breasts hang heavier than that. She’s being modest.
And even in her heels she’s not more than five-five. I have the strongest urge to come up behind her and pull that makeshift bun down after kissing the back of her neck, and I have to clench my jaw against the urge and keep my hands in my pockets. “You were trying to be someone you’re not.”
Her wall comes down then and she turns to me. “Jason, are you playing with me?”
“Playing?” I ask, tilting my head. “Oh, that’s right. You were shouting earlier that I was using you to make Simone jealous.”
Her eyes sharpen. “Weren’t you?” She starts undoing her bun and shaking out her curls like it’s a defense mechanism to have her hair back to normal. “I’m hard, I know that. I make people’s lives hell when they get in the way of what’s best for Simone. And I know I made yours miserable. But I don’t deserve to be used. No matter what you might think.”
That’s it. Pulling my hands out I walk quickly to her and cup her soft chin roughly in my hand. “Hey, I wasn’t using you. I was jealous. And the way he was whispering in your ear and making your eyes do that thing they’re doing. I was so jealous I was about to kick the shit out of him.”
“It’s not possible,” she moans.
“Why the fuck not? You’re adorable. I can’t stop thinking about you. It drove me nuts to see him holding you like that. It wasn’t an act to get her jealous. I was the one who felt that way. I was furious!” Her breath hitches as she searches my eyes. “I don’t use women, Sarah. That’s not the kind of guy I am.”
She’s panting softly like she wants to run or kiss me and she can’t decide which.
Her voice is hoarse as she whispers, “You’re the kind of guy who makes a move on his ex’s friend.”
Our eyes linger on each other during my weighty pause. Slipping my hand into her soft, auburn curls, I murmur, “I’m trying to think how I can answer that and not sound like an asshole. So here’s the truth. You ready?” She nods, blinking rapidly. I tighten my hold on her hair, tilting her head back a little as I bend over her. My voice is deeper now that I’m this close to her. I’m rock hard and I want to press into her. “Simone doesn’t care about me. No more than I care about her. She’s just pissed I called it off first. No, don’t make that face. You know I’m right. You know her. She was going to kick me to the curb.”
“Why do you think that,” Sarah whispers, staring at my lips. It’s so hot having her look at me like that, with her almond eyes peering up from hooded lids. She seems so innocent, as though this is the first time a man has touched her like this. The first time a man has looked at her with longing. I can practically taste how wet she must be. I’m straining against my jeans zipper. And she just licked her lips while staring at mine.
Fucking hell.
I need her.
I need to taste her.
Struggling to keep cool, I groan, “You going to look me in the face like this and lie and tell me she wasn’t gonna drop me the second she was done?”
“I can’t say that.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
Her eyes close briefly and then open in the sexiest way. “Won’t.”
“Fuck,” I growl, “I have to do this.” I press my lips into hers and feel her rise up, responding and arching her back. Unlocking her jaw with my own I seek out her tongue. “Relax,” I rasp into her. She nods a little and tips her head back. Before I know it we’re kissing roughly, tongues dancing with a hunger I’ve never felt. All I can see and feel is white hot heat.
Sarah, who always busts my balls has slipped soft arms around me, cradling my head as she kisses me, returning every ounce of passion I give her.
I jam her tiny frame against the refrigerator, gripping her lower back with one hand, her head with the other, my fingers tangled in her curls. I groan into her open lips and grind against her crotch, desperate for relief.
She moans into my mouth, whimpers, then shoves me away from her.
I back off, running my hands through my hair to gain control of myself.
I’m panting.
Harder than I’ve ever been.
And all I can think about is how badly I want to taste her pussy and make her scream.
“That was amazing,” I rasp, locking eyes with her. “Why did that feel so good?’
“I don’t know, but I can’t!” she moans, sliding her hands down her stomach and clawing at her closed zipper like she wants nothing more than to rip it open.
“Do it,” I moan, panting.
Turning away from me she tries to burrow into the unforgiving refrigerator door. “Oh God!”
I come up behind her and move her hair to the side, kissing the back of her neck like I fantasized doing. She presses her ass into my crotch and my eyes roll fucking back into my head. I slip both hands around the front of her jeans and cup her pussy through them. She moans and rubs on my hand and I swear I’m going to blow just from this.
My cock is pulsing for her.
Throbbing painfully.
“Sarah,” I groan, tracing her earlobe with my tongue.
She moans, “I can’t. Please stop.” She bucks me backward and moves away from me, holding out her hand as she begs me, “Please. Stay over there.”
Out of breath and licking my lips like she’s a piece of steak I growl, “I’ve gotta fuck you!”
“Jason,” Bernie’s voice interrupts us.
Sarah and I fall into total shock. Shame waves over her eyes and I’m just speechless. “Go,” she whispers, her voice hoarse and face stricken.
Adjusting myself and feeling shame flash into my blood, I groan, “I can’t believe I forgot.”
Sarah covers her mouth, shaking her head that she can’t believe we both lost ourselves that much.
I walk to the divider, rushing to Bernie, and gasp when I see her.
She’s unconscious.
“SARAH!” She comes running. “Check her pulse!”
Two shaking fingers go to Bernie’s exposed neck. Sarah counts and then looks at me, waiting for enough time to pass. She closes her eyes a moment and whispers, “She’s asleep. Her heartbeat is almost normal now.”
“Thank God,” I croak.
Sarah smoothes Bernie’s hair and murmurs to her that she’s going to be okay. She slides onto the floor with her back resting on the side of the bed. I’m sitting on it with Bernie’s hand in mine. We stay here like this for a long time.
Finally I see Sarah’s lips go lax as sleep starts to pull at her. She closes her eyes and rests her head, legs all twisted into a pretzel, arms hugging them.
She’s a good woman. She’s grounded, and when needed, she’s kind.
“Sarah,” I whisper.
Her sleepy eyelids flutter halfway open. “She okay?”
“C’mere.” Bending, I lift her off the hard floor. She slides her arms around my neck and gazes up at me before her eyes flit quickly toward Bernie. “Don’t worry. She’s safe. She was snoring a minute ago. It’s time for you to get some sleep, too.”
Jason
A quick frown pierces her eyebrows, but she doesn’t argue. Instead she lays her head on the nook of my chest and shoulder while I hold her tight and carry her to my couch.
That same sensatio
n I felt at that bar comes over me, a strong need to protect her from the world. Evolution hasn’t knocked that out of men yet, I guess, because carrying my tiny former-nemesis makes me feel greater than my normal self. Like all she needs to get through life is me.
“Here,” I murmur, laying her on the couch and pulling down my throw blanket to slide over her body. “I’ll get you a better blanket. Wait here.”
“Can I have some water?” she whispers, near sleep.
“Demanding bitch,” I mutter.
With her eyes closed, she smiles. “Ass face.”
I chuckle and head to the fridge, grabbing a glass and pouring from my Britta pitcher. Then I go to where my towels, sheets and blankets are kept, and feel around until I find the softest one.
Tucking it around her I glance to her face and find her watching me through hooded eyes. She smiles, “Be careful, Jason.”
“Why’s that?”
“If anyone saw this they’d think you were a nice guy.”
A grin flashes on my face, but I force it back to argue, “It’s all an act. I don’t care at all about you.”
Her eyes flicker, her smile ghostly. “Don’t you?”
Tingles travel down my torso. I run my fingers up her side, over the blanket, and meet her eyes. “I do, actually.”
After a moment, she whispers, “Why?”
“I love pain?”
She laughs and rolls over so I can’t see her face.
Unwilling to let that happen, I climb on top of her and push my way against the back of the couch, now inches from her face. “Nice try. You can’t hide.”
A playful grin tugs at her pink lips, but she’s fighting it. “I can run though.”
Becoming serious, I rasp, “Please don’t.”
Her smile fades and she reaches up and touches my face. I turn my head and kiss her fingertips, beginning to climb on top of her. She stops me. “No.”
Hesitating, I lower my forehead onto her collarbone.
“I can’t do this to Simone.”
“Talk to her then.” I lift my head. “But don’t leave Atlanta yet.”
Sarah’s eyes go wide. Searching me, she whispers, “You’re serious.”
“I am. We have something here.”
A sound of disbelief escapes her. “This isn’t just the tequila?”
I’m stunned for a second, and then I start cracking up. “No! It’s not the fucking tequila.” I kiss her once and pull up to say, “I mean it. Stay.”
“I have to work…”
“No, you’re scared she’ll be angry.”
With fear in her eyes, Sarah nods a little.
“Do something for yourself, for once.”
“She’s a part of me, Jason.”
Justin’s words come back to me, how he said their connection was strong like his and mine. “Okay, it’s just a little time. Can you give me time?”
“For what?”
“You want me to say it?”
“Yes.”
“I need time to make you fall in love…with this city.”
Sarah stares at me. “Let me talk to her.”
“That’s all I’m asking for.”
Sarah frowns and I kiss her nose and then her lips. She responds at first, but I can feel the tension in her now. I pull back and climb off her. “I’m going to check on Bernie.”
“Okay. Want me to come?”
“No. I carried you here for a reason. Rest.”
She smiles as I walk away, feeling like a teenager who just asked the prettiest girl to go out with me. And she has to think about it. Sarah might not be a model or a superstar, but to me she’s becoming far greater than both.
Bernie is sleeping it off. I take her phone and keys and hide them so she can’t escape. Then I grab a sleeping bag from my storage room, lifting it on my shoulder as I head back to the couch. Sarah’s eyes open slightly as I move the coffee table so I have room.
“You’re sleeping on the floor?” she groggily whispers.
“If I sleep on the couch with you my dick will be hard all night.”
“God!” she chuckles. “At least he’s honest!”
Grinning, I unravel the bag and climb in it, muttering, “There is that.”
She rolls to face me and hangs her arm over the side. I take her hand and lay it on my chest, eyes locked with hers. “Goodnight, Jason.”
“Cunt.”
Her eyes sparkle. “Penis on legs.”
Laughing I shut my eyes. “Ain’t that the truth…night, Sarah.” I give her hand a squeeze and let my mind drift off to sleep.
Sarah
I wake up before Jason and watch him sleeping on the floor, his mouth open and one arm above his head, the other over his stomach. His gentle breathing continues as I stare in wonder while trying to believe he meant those things he said. He seemed sincere and I feel light inside, like maybe God’s smiling at me for once.
I know I have to talk to Simone. I’m hoping she’ll be able to confess again that he doesn’t mean anything to her other than someone she needs for her music. And maybe she’ll give me her blessing and let me stay here for a week or so. Just to be with him.
Be with Jason.
What a wild thought.
Groans from his bed in the far corner of the loft make me rise up, carefully slipping off the couch to check on Bernie. “Jason,” I hear her moan before I’m around the divider. As I come into view she frowns in confusion. “Who’re you?” She’s clawing at her legs, and one is twitching. No, both are. I’ve seen this before in my brother.
“I’m Sarah. I was here last night with some other friends, when you arrived. Are you in pain?”
“Fucking hurts. Where’s my purse?”
“Jason put it somewhere. But there weren’t any more drugs in it anyway.” Off her look I sit on the bed, my hands clasped over my lap. “I know that’s what you want.”
She attempts getting up and hisses, “You know nothing about me.”
“My brother is an addict.”
She looks at me like an animal cornered in a cage, wondering if it can trust the person with the key.
“I’ve been with him when he was in withdrawals, like what you’re going through now.” Gritting her teeth, she waits for me to continue. Or maybe she has nothing to say. So I go on, “He’s clean now. He has a small store in Detroit, where I live. Sells comic books. Graphic novels. Toys. Things he loves. He’s doing well. Been clean for years.”
“Good for him,” she mutters, pushing at her legs and rolling on her side.
But I know I saw a spark behind her eyes. “Jealousy’s a map.”
“What?!” she growls.
“I saw the look you just had. It was jealousy. And you know…it’s a map,” I repeat.
“What are you talking about?”
“Jealousy shows us what we want. When I said my brother has his life back, and is doing something he loves, you got jealous.”
“I was angry that you’re talking to me!”
With patience disguising my compassion I shake my head and hold her eyes. She was once beautiful. It’s hard to see with her skin so gaunt and her hair thin like it is now, but the ghost of what she once looked like is evident in her bone structure, and you can just tell she was gorgeous.
“Anger is a mask that covers other emotions. Hurt. Pain. Jealousy. You can have your life back just like he does. Wanna know how I know that?” She just stares at me, but she’s still listening, so I continue, “Because we all gave up on Nathan. He overdosed four times, but didn’t die. God didn’t give up on him like we did. And deep in my brother’s heart, Nathan didn’t give up on himself. Even when he stole to get the heroine, beat people up, and took money from a church, he still believed that he could be better than that. That he could have a life. That he wouldn’t have to be in pain all the time. And so one day after writing with his own blood on a wall, God, don’t leave me, he passed out. The owner of the hotel found him. And you know what was crazy? The owner’s sister w
as an addict, so he didn’t judge my brother or turn his back. Instead he knew exactly where to take him, the same place his sister had gone five years before to get her children back. And she’d stayed sober, so the owner thought Nathan might have a chance, too.”
Tears are in Bernie’s eyes. Shaking her head, she chokes, “I’m afraid.”
“Of what?”
“Of failing.”
I reach over and take her hand. “We’re all afraid of that. But aren’t you failing now? Wouldn’t it be better to try a different way? Maybe if you do, and you fail a couple times at getting sober, then one day you’ll succeed? Or hell, maybe you’ll succeed the first try? Crazier things have happened.”
Pain contorts her face and she grips my hand so hard it hurts, but I don’t let go.
Jason steps around the divider, his hands in his pockets of the jeans he slept in. His pale green eyes glance from me to Bernie. She starts to weep and he goes to her. I stand and back up to give them space as he takes her in his arms. “Jason, I want to try to get clean,” she says through wracking sobs. “I can’t do this anymore. I was so scared last night. He made me do the needles. I never wanted to do needles! They’re so awful and I couldn’t say no. I tried but I couldn’t!”
“Shhh…it’s okay. He’s gone now. He’s gone. I’m here. You’re safe.”
Sarah
“Simone?” I call out, quietly shutting the door of our rented home. Silence. Then I hear a sound coming from her bedroom. She pops her head out, hair a mess.
“Hey,” she smiles, trudging out and heading for the kitchen. “I need coffee something awful. What happened with that woman?”
Following her and gearing up for a battle, I say on a deep exhale, “Jason’s taking her to a rehab now. It’ll be her first one, I think.”
“Oh good,” Simone says without the slightest emotional investment as she reaches for the French press and opens a bag of ground coffee from Kroger.
“I told her about Nathan.”
Simone smiles, but her mind is elsewhere. Is she already mad at me? There’s a distance between us that’s not normally there.
Cocky Romantic: A Hot Romantic Comedy Stand Alone (Cocker Brothers of Atlanta Book 4) Page 13
