Wicked Gentleman

by Christy Pastore

Focus, Stevie.

  I was all set to settle in for the evening and binge watch a few episodes of Good Bones. Gran’s kitchen was in serious need of a makeover. The current palette of mustard yellow, forest green and rich browns was too dark and it made the space feel small. I’d found these cute white and teal retro barstools at an antique store and the colors inspired me to brighten up the space. Bought them right on the spot, and after that I started recording anything was home renovating inspired.

  When the door slung open, my thoughts scattered like the crumbles of blue cheese over the lettuce.

  “Hey, lady,” Megyn said, dropping her handbag to the counter.

  “Hey, are you hungry? There’s plenty for two.” I shook the bottle of dressing and then drizzled a fair amount over the bed of greens. If there is one thing I cannot stand it’s too much dressing on salad. I can’t eat things that are soggy. Like when people drown pancakes, waffles or french toast in syrup. I don’t get it. It feels as if they are taking away from the purity of the food.

  She lifted a brow. “We’re meeting Krystle at Pints and Paints tonight. We have to be there in like twenty minutes.”

  Oh shit.

  “I totally spaced that was tonight.”

  Popping a cherry tomato into her mouth, she breezed past me towards the hallway. I shoveled a few bites of salad into my mouth and then washed it down with half a bottle of water.

  “Get your buns in gear,” she called from her bedroom.

  So much for my night in, oh well, going out with friends will keep my mind off Jax, his lips, his hands and his whereabouts.

  “Does this look like two flowers?” Megyn asked pointing to her canvas.

  Krystle laughed. “It looks more like two mirroring vaginas.”

  A laugh bubbled up from my throat causing me to cough. I choked and sputtered on my beer. They both turned to face me staring at me wide-eyed and then Krystle rubbed my back.

  “Are you okay?” Megyn asked, pushing to her feet.

  I took a paper towel from the bin, and then wiped mouth and chin. Luckily the apron I was wearing caught most of the beer remnants. It was borderline criminal to waste this perfectly lovely pale ale.

  I tossed the dirty paper towels into the garbage. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  “Okay good, now back to the mirroring vaginas,” Krystle said, and pointed her brush at Megyn’s art piece.

  I pressed my fist to my mouth to keep from smiling. Heat spread over every inch of my skin, and I shifted in my seat.

  “What is with you and the giggles?” Krystle asked, before taking a sip of her beer.

  “I am not giggling.”

  Megyn pointed at me with her brush. “Something is definitely up. Her face is as red as that paint.”

  Krystle glanced at me sideways. “What was it that got you all choked up?”

  A few thoughts circled around my brain. First, and for obvious reasons, was Jax. My thighs burned but in the most delicious way. Like a psycho, I stood in the bathroom staring at the marks on my skin for a good ten minutes. Second, I could ask them their thoughts on Milo Moiré, the Swiss artist, and her “Mirror Box” performance piece. Krystle would call bullshit on that.

  “Oh my God, you had sex and with him,” Krystle stage-whispered.

  The ladies at the table next to us tossed glaring glances in our direction. My heart hammered its way up my throat, and my palms misted over with sweat.

  “Him who?” Megyn asked, waggling her brows.

  “Would you two keep your voices down?” I asked, rolling my shoulders back. I wanted to shove Krystle’s face into the palette of paint and wipe the smug look off her face.

  “For your information, I did not have sex. However, an orgasm was involved. Actually, there were two and they were both mine.”

  Krystle stood in a rush, taking her apron off in the process. “That’s it. Come on we’re leaving, let’s go to Quench. I need all the details and like now.”

  Our drinks practically poured themselves and our conversation took a hard left from demanding details about my evening of oral delight to Krystle confessing her displeasure of committed relationships.

  “This one here turned down friends with benefits because it was too much commitment,” Megyn said, pointing her fry at Krystle.

  Krystle lifted her shoulder. “At that point when you’re scheduling sex, you might as well be married.”

  I laughed. “So you never want to get married?”

  “I’m much too young to think about marriage,” she huffed. “I have a travel bucket list a mile long.”

  “And let’s not forget her bingo card,” Megyn reminded, arching a brow. “Krystle still has to sleep with a Spaniard, an Aussie, and if memory serves she still needs two of the Canadian provinces to complete the card.”

  Krystle tossed a fry at Megyn. “Three provinces, for your information.”

  “Okay, okay, but let’s get back to the matter of Stevie . . .” Megyn eyed me over her mug of beer. “Getting hot and heavy with Jackson James Hart.”

  “Yes, it is a fascinating story,” Krystle said, tapping the side of her beer glass. “Stevie catching the eye of the guy who was at the top of Florida Business magazine’s forty under forty list, last year.”

  I shrugged. It was the first time I really thought about Jax being older than me. I guess age shouldn’t matter though, unless it comes to cheese and wine. “Since when do you read business journals?”

  She lifted a shoulder. “What? A girl can’t stay informed with the happenings of the business world. I have career aspirations too, that is precisely why I signed up for community college for the spring semester.”

  I shot her a wide-eyed look. “That’s awesome, Krystle. What are you studying?”

  “I think I’ve narrowed it to either business management or accounting. But, nice try, back to Jackson James Hart, is he a good kisser?” she asked, tearing her chicken strip in two pieces.

  Waggling my brows, I tilted my head in her direction. “What do you think?”

  Megyn pulled out her phone and started furiously tapping away. “He’s so handsome. I read an article where he attended a fundraiser for the Children’s Hospital earlier this summer. He had a hot brunette on his arm. Guess she’s history now that he’s gone down on Stevie.”

  I closed my eyes at the memory of his lips on mine and his fingers inside me. Were Jax and I exclusive? We’d only had a few dates, but I really liked him. From the events that transpired I gathered that he liked me a lot too. I sounded like a teenager with a crush.

  “Jackson Hart is the kind of man you allow the pleasure of taking your ass virginity,” Krystle declared.

  And once more this evening, I nearly choked on my beer. Little did Krystle know that I’ve finger fucked myself practically every night since meeting him. The sounds Jax made while he licked and sucked my skin were burned into my memory. Still today, I could feel his hot mouth on me.

  I shot her a pointed look. “Ass virginity, wow, have you ever let a guy take your ass?”

  Krystle shook her head. “No, I’ve not met anyone that deserving, yet.”

  Megyn cleared her throat. “If you’re quite finished talking about the ass play, let’s get this conversation back on track. The guy attends practically every swanky party on the planet. Here’s a picture of him at a scotch tasting at the Ritz.”

  Krystle grabbed the phone from her hand. “Oh my God, some of those bottles cost as much as I make in a year.”

  I barely registered the rest of the evening’s conversation. My thoughts bounced back and forth between the differences in our age and social backgrounds. Jax was the CEO of a resort, a company that he’d built from the ground up and at such a young age. There was also the fact that he was my boss, while not directly, the lines had been blurred.

  On my drive home, I thought that perhaps I needed to reinforce them—the blurred lines. The fear of not being able to fit into Jax’s world crept in, and I never thought I could ever feel unsure about any re
lationship or in my case potential relationship.

  When did I become this insecure girl?

  I SAT IN THE BACK of the room watching Jason as he shuffled his shackled feet across the dull brown carpet. The guards escorted him down the center aisle to his seat where he was greeted by his lawyer, Mick Stano. My brother looked as if he’d aged ten years since the last time I saw him three years ago. There wasn’t too much of my brother that I recognized, at least not the brother I’d known. His skin was ashen, and he was at least twenty pounds thinner.

  As Jason scanned the room, his haunted dark eyes met mine. The wrinkles in his forehead were more pronounced, as were the creases around his eyes, affirming the years of doing hard time had taken their toll. He nodded giving me a tight-lipped smile.

  My leg bounced up and down as I stared at the clock on the wall. The parole board could begin this little soiree at any time. The sooner the better, and then I could be on my way back home and away from this hell hole.

  The board members recite various statements all involving the same words—murder . . . drugs . . . robbery . . . killed . . . mother.

  I’ve heard the story for what feels like a hundred times and it never changes. My brother was armed with a gun, and robbed two drug dealers, Joshua King and Anthony Flores, at a home in the Coral Way district. Jason managed to escape, but the dumbass stopped off at a convenience store where his Escalade was spotted. A call was made—a call for his murder.

  “You murdered the two men who killed your mother, do you feel any remorse?”

  Waiting for him to say the words, I squeezed my eyes shut tight.

  “No, I do not feel any remorse for killing the two men who murdered my mother.”

  “You do realize that you are admitting to this board that you have no guilt about taking two mens’ lives.”

  His lawyer leaned into him and Jason shook his head. “They took my mom’s life, eye for an eye.” The words were delivered cold and flat.

  Stano pushed to his feet, and cleared his throat. “My client’s brother is here today to speak on his behalf.”

  Jason grabbed his wrist and shook his head. They exchanged a few words, I couldn’t hear exactly what was said, but it was clear that I had wasted the trip.

  “The state of Florida hereby has no choice but to deny you parole at this time.”

  I stood and then strode towards the door. “Mister Dennison, please wait,” Stano called out. I turned to face him, and he stopped short of me to straighten his jacket.

  “Don’t you want to say anything on Jason’s behalf?”

  “It’s Mister Hart to you, I cut out the Dennison part a long time ago. If Jason wishes to remain in jail, then who am I to change that?”

  It was just after eight in the evening when I landed back in Amelia City. A heavy rainstorm kept us from flying out of Lawtey on time. My first thought was to call Stevie, but I wasn’t sure unloading family baggage was the right thing to do this early in our relationship.

  Stevie probably had a wonderful family. I could only assume since she had been so close with her grandmother that the rest of her family was tight knit. Once I hit the interstate, I flipped on the Bluetooth and called my sister. She’d want to know how things went down in court today with Jason.

  “Hey, Jax, I didn’t think I’d hear from you until tomorrow.”

  I smiled at the sound of her sweet southern accent. After graduating high school a semester early, she moved to Austin for college, then onto law school and never left. “Hey, Sis, how are things in Legal Aid these days?”

  “Still fighting the good fight, I am one step closer to getting my client out of her abusive relationship.”

  Janessa decided that it was her destiny to help people. Instead of becoming an entertainment lawyer she shifted to Legal Aid.

  “That’s good news,” I replied, while merging lanes.

  “Is Jason out of prison?”

  No beating around the bush for Janessa, she was always direct. Just like a lawyer to get right to the matter. “No, he showed no remorse for his crimes. I think he wants to die in there.”

  She sighed heavily. “The last time I visited him, his eyes were soulless. His light just burned out. Not that he really had any before.”

  “I know what you mean.” I ran a hand through my hair. “I didn’t even speak on his behalf. Jason must have told Stano he didn’t want me to.”

  “I’m sorry, so what do we do now?”

  I blew out a harsh breath. “As hard as this is for me to say, I think we have to let him go. He obviously doesn’t want us in his life or our help, for that matter.”

  Janessa would never admit it, but the sniffling told me that she was in tears. If I knew my sister she’d pour a glass of bourbon and flip on her favorite country station after we hung up. I hated the thought of her being sad and alone, but she’d handled everything up to now with incredible strength. There was no reason to think she’d crumble upon hearing what we’d already suspected from Jason.

  “Okay, Jax, what if he calls?”

  “Then you decide whether or not you want to take the call. I’m not going to tell you not to have a relationship with our brother,” I answered truthfully.

  There was a long pause, and finally she said, “Well, that settles it, it’s just you and me from now on.”

  “Seems it’s been that way for quite some time.”

  She huffed out a quiet laugh. “Yeah, I suppose it has.”

  “Hey, let’s chat sometime next week about you coming out here for Thanksgiving,” I interjected, shifting the topic to lighten the mood. “That is, if you don’t have plans already.”

  “I’m not sure. I’ll have to let you know a little closer to the holiday.”

  I ran my hand along the steering wheel. “Fair enough.”

  Janessa didn’t particularly enjoy coming to Florida. Usually, I stopped over in Austin whenever I could. At best we would see each other a few times a year.

  “That’s my other line, Jax, I need to go. Love you.”

  “Talk to you soon. Love you.” Twenty One Pilots’ “Heathens” filled the car when my Bluetooth disconnected. Despite the fact that this had been one long ass day, I had a ton of energy. I wanted to work out the energy with Stevie, but instead I opted for a workout in my home gym. Forty minutes later, beads of sweat poured down my face as I pushed myself on the last mile of five on the treadmill.

  My lungs burned and my quads ached. It was as if I was training for the New York City Marathon. I ran it once during college, and I vowed never to do it again—merely a bucket list moment. It was no wonder I was working so hard, I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Stevie. Ever since I tasted her, I wanted more. Needing to cool down I slowed my pace to a jog. Pulling out my earbuds I directed my attention to the television. The Business Insider came on and they highlighted a story about the Maddox Hotel in London filing for chapter eleven bankruptcy.

  Shit. I wanted that hotel. It was a perfect piece of real estate to launch Hart Hotels internationally.

  I hit my lawyer’s number on my cellphone. “Pick the fuck up, Gael,” I muttered.

  “Good evening, Hart. It’s nice to hear from you at this late hour,” he drawled in his elegant Spanish accent.

  “Hello, Gael. That is why I pay you the big bucks to take my calls whatever the hour. I need everything you can get me on the Maddox Hotel in London. It’s ripe for the taking and I want it, but at a very inexpensive price.”

  “Of course, that is no problem at all. I’ll get right on it.”

  I killed the call and stripped out of my sweat soaked clothes and headed for the shower. I thought about jerking off. Instead I took a cool shower and tried very hard not to think about Stevie’s sweet lips wrapped around my cock. I hadn’t been this amped up over a woman since my ex, Alison. I’d been heartbroken when she’d been offered her dream job in Paris, but she said that we could make the long distance thing work. For about eight months we had been able to, but our phone calls
became few and far between and trying to plan weekends together proved to be even more difficult.

  There had been a fair amount of women since Alison, but I was only interested in an hour or two between the sheets and they were only interested in my bank account. I know, poor me.

  After my shower I slipped into bed foregoing my usual scotch and cigar nightcap, even though after today’s events I could have used that drink. It had been a day of hard truths. I hated reliving the details of Mom’s death, and seeing Jason broken into a shell of a man didn’t help matters. I let out a deep sigh and pushed the darkness out of my mind. Then I did something I hadn’t done in a long time, I sent a goodnight text to a woman, that woman being Stevie. Tomorrow couldn’t get here soon enough.

  GOODNIGHT, BEAUTIFUL, I’M LOOKING FORWARD to our date.

  Jax’s words, so simple and I couldn’t stop staring at them on the screen. They lingered in the back of my thoughts leaving me feeling edgy and excited. I spent most of the morning distracted, but a phone call from my mother snapped me back to reality.

  “Hey, Mom, how are you feeling?”

  “I’m good,” she answered through a cough.

  “You okay? Is Dad helping you out?”

  “Yes, nothing to worry about, just allergies. Your father is at work. Tell me what is going on with you?”

  Mom sounded tired, and it was a safe bet that Dad wasn’t helping her as much as she would have me believe. I should make plans to visit her soon.

  “Do you want me to come home on my next day off?”

  “Do not be silly, I am fine. How is your job, sugar? Have you heard anything from the museum lately?”

  “The job is good. I can’t complain. I haven’t heard anything from the museum yet, I am hopeful.”

  I’d been so pre-occupied I hadn’t checked to see what was happening at the museum. I walked into my room and stared at my closet. Should I wear shorts over my bikini or the striped dress? I thought about telling my mom about Jax, but I just wasn’t ready. Instead, I filled her in on my remodeling plans for Gran’s place.