The Hearts Series

by L.H. Cosway

  “Jesus.”

  I bite my lip. “Is there something wrong?”

  “You’re so wet, and fuck, you feel incredible.”

  My skin breaks out in goose bumps when I see the dark look in his gaze.

  “Tell me the truth. Has a man ever made you come before me?”

  It’s ridiculous, given that I’m naked beneath him, but I blush. He stares at me. “Ah, there it is. I was the first. I fucking love that.”

  He pulls his fingers out, making me feel empty. It only lasts a second before he positions himself, locks eyes with me, and then slowly pushes in. It’s nothing like having his hand there. He’s so much bigger, thicker, my walls clenching tight around him. His hands cup my face as he fills me up, and then when he’s completely inside me, he goes still.

  “Fuck.” He stares at me for a long time. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. This is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever felt.”

  And those are the most beautiful words that have ever been said to me. I feel like I might cry. Too many emotions are building up in my chest. The way Jay’s looking at me makes me feel like what’s happening right now is so much bigger than I can possibly know. There’s worship in his every movement, every touch. I’d thought I was just an attraction to him. I’d thought he just liked my body. But that can’t be all there is. This feels like coming home, and my brain can’t comprehend why.

  He rocks his hips once and I shudder, pleasure ripping through me with the movement. He does it again, and I grip his upper arm tightly.

  “That feel good?”

  “Yes.”

  “You want more?”

  “Please.”

  He moves his hips again, this time faster and more than once. He rocks in and out, his breaths quickening, the two of us growing frenzied.

  “Jason,” I moan.

  His thumb brushes my lips. “Love hearing you say my name, especially when my cock’s inside you.”

  I get lost in his eyes, in the feel of him. Music and party noises drift in from outside, but I barely notice. In here there’s just us, and it makes my heart hurt. I need some reassurance that he isn’t going to disappear into thin air like when he’s on stage. This feels too good to last.

  “Please don’t pull away from me again. I couldn’t take it,” I whisper, but I’m not sure if he hears me. He’s too lost now, moving in and out of me, pumping so hard it shakes the bed, his expression fierce. I feel myself tightening, building to something I’ve never felt before. Just as it hits me, the most intense orgasm I’ve ever felt, Jay’s movements start to slow.

  “Shit, are you coming?” he rasps, staring down at me.

  “Yes,” I breathe. “I think. I don’t know.”

  “God. I can feel it. You are. Incredible.” He speaks in short, jagged sentences. The next thing I know, he’s coming, too, pouring himself into me. He kisses me long and deep, his chest falling into mine, his heavy weight surprisingly pleasant on top of me.

  “That was…incredible,” he murmurs, all out of breath, his lips in my hair. His hand wanders down between my legs, finding my clit and rubbing slow, lazy circles. His come is all over me, but it doesn’t seem to bother him.

  I laugh. “God, how are we ever going to clean ourselves up? We’re a mess. Everyone in the party is going to know.”

  “So what? Fuck ’em.”

  He rolls off me, his back hitting the mattress, and I snuggle into his side, tracing the lines of his tattoos, the six of hearts in particular.

  “Tell me what this one means,” I whisper.

  “Six hearts. The six people I care about most in the world,” he answers without hesitation, surprising me. I’d expected him to avoid revealing his secrets like he usually does. “Some of them aren’t in the world anymore, though,” he goes on sadly.

  “Oh,” I breathe, wondering if I’m one of those six. I can’t be. He got the tattoo long before he ever knew who I was. The realisation saddens me. More than anything I’d like to be one of those six people.

  “Can you have only six?” I ask.

  He doesn’t say anything, just studies me. I hate it when he does this, because I don’t have the courage to ask again.

  “You look sleepy. You’re gorgeous when you’re tired.”

  “I am?”

  “Yeah. So fucking gorgeous.” He leans down and kisses the side of my mouth, then pulls away. Getting up from the bed, he pulls on his jeans, commando style, then grabs his shirt.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I’m just going to get us some stuff to clean ourselves up with. Don’t worry. I’ll be back in a minute.”

  He leaves, and I lie there, staring at the ceiling. I just had sex with Jay. My body knows it’s a fact, but my brain can’t work its way around the idea. I’ve never known sex could be like that. So intense you practically forget your own name.

  The door opens, and I quickly pull the covers over me, startled. It’s just Jay, though, returning with a damp cloth.

  “Come here.” He crooks his finger at me, and I crawl to where he’s perched himself on the edge of bed. His sexy eyes meet mine.

  I let my thighs fall open, and he uses the cloth to clean me. My heart hammers at how he does it, so careful, so full of affection. It’s the weirdest thing, yet so completely heart-warming. While his attention is focused on my body, the alarming sensation of falling comes over me. It’s not exactly surprising. Jay is so easy to fall in love with, even if he can be difficult, like Jessie says.

  I want to ask him why he called things off when he took me to the outdoor cinema, but I can’t. I’m too frightened of the answer he might give me. I want to stay in this moment, hearing his words over and over in my head and letting them be my truth.

  Because you’re mine.

  It might not be wise, but allowing myself to be his feels like everything I’ve ever wanted. I move to go in search of my clothes, but he stops me, getting them himself and dressing me. He slips on my knickers, then clips me into my bra.

  “Decided to wear nothing but red tonight, huh?” he asks huskily, referring to my underwear set, which matches my dress.

  “You like?”

  A smirk, his eyes on the lace. “I do.”

  “Good.”

  “Was that the intention?”

  “Perhaps.”

  His grin makes me tremble. “Not that it doesn’t kill me to go back out to the party, but I’ve got to give Jessie her birthday cake. You want to help?”

  “Sure,” I reply, standing and smoothing down my dress.

  Later on, after we’ve presented Jessie with her cake and the party guests start to trickle out, I find Jessie and Michelle on the couch, Jessie whispering seductively into Michelle’s ear. I seriously would love to know what she’s saying right now. As soon as they see me approach, Jessie asks blatantly, “What in the fuck’s been happening with you and Jay?”

  I stand a little straighter and tuck a wayward strand of hair behind my ear. “Nothing.”

  Michelle giggles and wags her finger at me. “Your makeup is virtually non-existent, and you’re sporting a different hairdo than you were earlier. I’m thinking a lot more than ‘nothing’ happened, Matilda.”

  “Okay, Mother.”

  “Oh, she’s blushing,” says Jessie. “A blush like that only indicates one thing.”

  “A good old-fashioned rogering,” says Michelle.

  “Jay serviced your pipes,” Jessie adds.

  I scrunch up my face. “Oh, God. Can you two please stop? I dislike both of those phrases. And I refuse to believe I have anything that resembles plumbing, thank you very much.”

  “But you two did…you know,” says Jessie, forming a circle with her thumb and index finger and then inserting another finger through the hole.

  “Okay, Danny Zuko. Thanks for that delightful visual interpretation,” I deadpan.

  Both she and Michelle burst into laughter.

  “What visual interpretation are we talking abou
t?” Jay’s husky voice asks from behind as he tugs me down to sit on his lap. Okay, now it’s pretty obvious that there definitely was some plumbing being serviced. I wouldn’t be sitting on his lap if there wasn’t.

  What? The plumbing image is stuck in my head now.

  “The old finger through the hole,” Jessie explains once her laughter has died down. Seriously, I don’t think what I said was that funny. Perhaps it was the way I said it.

  “Oh, you decided you’re not offended by the idea of sucking a cock anymore?” Jay asks, teasing her. I’m glad I’m no longer the one being teased.

  “Eh, nooo,” Jessie exclaims. “And the hole is clearly a vagina, not a mouth.”

  “This is the conversation we’re having, really? I must have forgotten we’re all thirteen-year-old boys now,” I say, talking mostly to myself.

  Jay’s hand massages my hip as he pulls me in closer to his body. He kisses my temple, then asks, “You want to get out of here?”

  “And go where?”

  “Home.”

  “Dad’s at home.”

  “We’ll be quiet.”

  I cock an eyebrow at him. He chuckles. “Okay, well, I do have a pretty fucking awesome car.”

  A laugh sputters out of me. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You know.”

  His hand is on my neck, his thumb massaging my throat again. Seriously, it’s probably the most erotic thing he could do to me in public without being obscene. My eyes flutter closed, and a heavy breath escapes me, my head falling to the side to rest on his shoulder.

  “I’m kind of tired,” I say. “You should probably just take me home.”

  His voice is tender when he replies, “Okay, darlin’, I’ll take you home.”

  Helping me to stand, we say our goodbyes and then take the elevator back down to the lobby. When I’m settled in the passenger seat of his car, I promptly fall asleep.

  A little bit later I wake up. The car has been pulled into the side of the road, and Jay’s outside, pacing and talking to someone over the phone. I look around. The only light is coming from the headlights of the car. Where are we that there are no streetlights at all? Nowhere on the route home, that’s for certain. I must be dreaming. And with that thought, I fall back asleep.

  Twenty-Two

  I don’t wake up until just before midday the following morning, in my own bed and stripped down to my underwear. I smile at the visual of Jay carrying me from his car up to my room and then pleasing himself by removing my dress. After my long hours of sleep, I feel rested. I’m a little disappointed that Jay didn’t stay with me, but that’s probably just because Dad’s home.

  I’m not sure how I’m going to broach the subject of being with Jay to Dad, but it’s early days yet. Perhaps we can spend a little while longer just enjoying the newness of it before we have to make any decisions about what exactly is going on between us.

  I get up and hop into the shower, wondering how I’m going to handle it when Jay moves out in a week’s time. I won’t have any more of his breakfasts or his flirting over breakfast. I won’t have the fizzy feeling in my belly of knowing he’s asleep on the other side of my bedroom wall.

  I wish there was some way that he could stay.

  I blow-dry my hair once I’m out of the shower and get dressed. As I’m about to head downstairs, I go by Jay’s room, and his door is open. When I look inside, I see he’s camped out on the floor again, books open all around him and a million papers scattered across the carpet. On the other side of the room, there’s an entire deck of cards spread out neatly, face up and sporting random numbers written in marker pen.

  Curiouser and curiouser. I don’t bother to ask him what he’s doing because I know he isn’t going to tell me. When I spot the bread basket beside him, which, might I add, he’s casually eating from, I fold my arms.

  “Is that the bread basket Owen gave me?” I ask in disbelief.

  His eyes travel to me, wandering up my body in appreciation before landing on my face. “Yup. You left it in my car. Possession is nine-tenths and all that. Want some? It’s good, too.”

  “You’re unbelievable,” I say, shaking my head at him but unable to keep from smiling.

  “That’s what you said last night,” he quips.

  “I did not.”

  “Maybe not, but we both know you were thinking it. Don’t be a stranger, darlin’. Come here.” He opens his arms to me, and I can’t resist going to him. I lower myself to the floor, and he pulls me into him, hugging me tight.

  “Morning. Did you sleep well?” he asks softly.

  “I did.”

  His hand moves up under my top, caressing my belly and lower back. Tingles go through me, and I can’t suppress a small shudder. Jay lifts some herby bread to my mouth, and I take a hesitant bite.

  “Wow. That really is good. I feel bad about Owen,” I say, frowning.

  Jay’s mouth flattens into a straight line. “Why would you feel bad? Do you like him?”

  “I don’t not like him. He’s a nice guy. He didn’t deserve to be used like that.”

  One eyebrow shoots right up. “Used?”

  Oh, God, did I just say that? My face goes bright red. Impossible to disguise, since I’m almost in his lap. His thumb brushes my cheek as I let my eyes fall to the floor.

  “Were you playing a little game with me?” he whispers, his mouth close to mine.

  “You rejected me. I didn’t want to go to the party by myself in case you brought a date. I would have felt awful seeing you with someone else,” I force myself to admit.

  “I don’t date. And I’m sorry for pushing you away. That was a shitty decision.”

  I look up, biting my lip. “Why did you push me away?”

  He pulls back a little and runs his hand through his hair. “Ah.”

  His face makes me backtrack. “No, wait, you don’t have to tell me. If the answer is bad, then I’d probably prefer it if you didn’t. I know I’ve probably been giving you puppy-dog eyes these past few weeks. It’s just difficult for me not to like you. I’m sure it’s difficult for any girl not to like you.”

  He smiles. “Don’t stop. I’m enjoying this speech.”

  I give him a light smack in the chest.

  “In all seriousness, though, it was nothing to do with not wanting you,” he goes on, his voice deep and rumbly. “It had to do with getting lost in you so quickly I was forgetting myself. I have a lot going on right now — you must know that. This case is taking all of my concentration, and when I’m with you, I want to give all of my concentration to you.”

  I tug at the collar of his shirt, a massive smile shaping my lips. “Don’t stop. I’m enjoying this speech.”

  He leans into me and gives me a soft, wet kiss. “Think you’re clever.”

  I don’t say anything, just kiss him back. He breaks it a minute later and continues talking.

  “I guess what I’m trying to say is, I wanna be with you, Matilda. Fuck, do I want to. I mean, I’m all in, you know what I mean?” He pauses and scratches at his neck. “Shit, I’m saying this all wrong.”

  My heart is in flutters. I never knew how cute he could be when he’s nervous. “You’re saying it right. Keep going.”

  “So, basically, I’m probably going to be contradicting myself with this next bit, but I want to take this slowly. I want to romance you, Watson.” He grins wide, and I clench my thighs. “Give you everything you deserve in a man.”

  “I like the sound of that, but you just said you didn’t date. And last night was anything but slow.”

  “Last night I was a being a jealous fuck, and I had to stake my claim. I don’t date, but I will with you. You’re the exception.” He bounces me a little in his lap, and I giggle.

  “Then I agree to your proposal, Jason,” I announce, holding out my hand to him. We shake on it.

  He squeezes my hips and pulls me astride him. “Yeah, ya do.”

  We kiss, and it’s real slow, his tongue sliding a
long mine, making me think wholly inappropriate thoughts for the hour of the day. I practically leap from his lap and to the other side of the room when I hear Dad come out of his home office and walk toward the staircase. I end up over by a shelf housing Jay’s music collection as Dad calls “hello” to him and continues his way downstairs, none the wiser about his daughter hiding within and her slatternly ways. Yeah, I’m bringing back the word “slattern.” Deal with it.

  “Not ready to tell your old man about me yet, huh?” Jay asks, smirking.

  Blushing, I shake my head and turn my attention to his CDs to try to distract myself from that kiss and how it sent my hormones into overdrive. I smile, noticing that he practically owns Eminem’s entire back catalogue. We have something in common. Jay must have gone through a rap phase, too.

  “You like Eminem,” I say as he comes over and sits behind me, pulling me between his legs.

  “I was an angry young man in the year 2000. Of course I liked Eminem,” he says. “Still do. The man’s a genius.”

  “I agree. I used to buy his albums and listen to them in secret because Dad never let me buy anything with a parental warning sticker. What’s your favourite song?”

  He makes a little humming sound in the back of his throat as he thinks about it, his hand brushing my inner thigh. His breath whispers across my nape, giving me tingles, and then he starts to sing the chorus to “Hailie’s Song” in a gorgeously low, husky voice.

  Oh, God.

  If I thought that kiss sent my hormones into overdrive, it has nothing on what Jay’s singing is doing to me. There’s something so incredibly appealing about his tone. My heart practically stops beating.

  He sings about feeling like the weight of the world is on his shoulders, and it steals a little piece of my heart. When he’s done, he kisses my neck, and I let out a heavy breath.

  “That’s the one about his daughter, isn’t it?”