by Unknown
He’s lost in his own mind. Endless seconds pass, and he keeps staring at me, as if he’s looking at me for the first time. My eyes flutter and close; I’m not good at this type of game. I don’t know how to play. I don’t even know what the purpose of the game is. Actually it’s plain and simple: I don’t want to play.
The little patience I have left is quickly spent, so I break the silence, and ask, “Did you get a divorce?”
I see the shadow of a smile on his mouth. He wanted me to start. He looks into my eyes and nods.
“My turn,” he says. “Did you wait for me?”
I bite back with more questions, “Is this a game that we’re playing? Because, if it is, I’d like to know the rules. How many questions do we each have?”
“No game, just a talk, my sweet Jade, and you did not answer my question,” his tone contradicts the affectionate term that he used.
I nod and close my eyes, “Of course, I waited. For endless weeks, I waited.”
“Look at me, Jade; this is a yes or no question.”
I open my eyes and blink several times to chase away the tears that are threatening to come out. I will not give him the satisfaction of seeing what he’s doing to me. It’s nothing short of torture. I’m so turned on by his touch that if he so much as breathes on me tenderly, I will crumble.
With a jagged breath, I ask “What precisely do you want to know?”
Through clenched teeth, he says, “Did you let that guy touch you?”
“Didn’t you hear what he told you?”
“I don’t trust the man; I want to hear from you.”
“He tried.”
“What do you mean ‘he tried’?”
“How much detail do you want?”
“Every single one.”
“What in heavens for?”
“Because my imagination is probably worse than reality.”
“I’m sure it is. It was nothing, really.”
“I want to know every single hot and dirty thing he did to you so I can do it better and erase him from your memory.”
My heart is soaring; I so love his jealousy. It’s my turn to hide a smile. He’s so hot when he’s mad like this.
“That shouldn’t be too hard for you.” I touch my lips with a finger, and say, “He kissed me once, and, while he did it, he had one hand on my hip and the other on my breast.”
Oliver stares at my lips, and asks, “That’s it?”
“No, there’s more,” I taunt him because he’s tortured me enough, and now it’s my turn.
“It happened in my bed, and, after I pushed him back, he fell asleep, nestled against my shoulder. The next day, he went back to bang our admin, who he’s been fucking silly since he arrived.”
His mouth remains open, as if the words he was about to say won’t come out. I push him away and walk out of the bathroom. He follows me into my bedroom as I lock the door that leads to the living room. I lean against it, and then I march to him, pointing an accusing finger.
“You say you want to talk, then let’s talk. Tell me, Jade Master, what do you want from me? I want you; I want you so badly that, even though I’m quite literate, I can’t find the words to describe how empty I’ve been feeling without you.”
I keep on walking until he’s trapped between the foot of my bed and me. He can’t back up anymore; it’s my turn to crowd him.
“So, do you want to be with me, or not? Because if you do, I will probably be the happiest woman on Earth, but, if you don’t, then I want you to get your ass right out of here and never come close to me again.”
This is exhausting. I’m totally out of breath. I push him away to the side and sit on the corner of my bed. I close my eyes, swallow hard, and wait for his answer.
There are a few seconds of silence, and then Oliver takes a few steps. He does not go to the door, but instead, comes to me. He rests his hands on my knees and his forehead on mine. He’s kneeling in front of me, and his erection is the first thing I see when I open my eyes again.
“I don’t know why you need to ask. I want you. I know that I have been the first man in your heart, your bed, and your life. I’m not content with that because I want also to be the last. Hell, I want to be the only one you’ll ever want and need. I want to go to bed with you every night and wake up with you every morning. I’m crazy about you.”
He kisses me, and I slide to the floor onto his lap. He’s as ready for me as I am for him. His penis is beating like a drum between us. I can feel its heat and pulse through the cotton of my shirt. I cling to his shoulders because his kiss makes me feel whole, again.
When he pulls his mouth away from mine, I wrap my arms around him and ask, “But why the silence?”
Another kiss, and he says, “I wanted to come back to you totally free, so you wouldn’t have any reason to push me away again.”
I raise my hands over my head, look into his eyes, and say, “Look at me. I’m not pushing, am I?”
“No, you’re not. I can see that now.”
“So, what are you going to do?”
“I’ll start by giving you a choice. Do you want to stay on the floor, let me take you against the wall, or move to the bed?”
A thousand other possibilities cross my mind, like the kitchen table, the balcony, the shower, or even the Jacuzzi. I also like the bed; it sounds like the most comfortable choice, but I’m so charged that I can’t waste another minute. If I don’t have him in me now, I’ll die of frustration.
I raise myself and tilt my hips enough to make him slide into me. My answer is clear.
“Here. Right here, and right now.”
“Jade,” my name comes out in his breath like a prayer, and it’s my turn to silence him with a kiss.
He grabs a fistful of my hair as my lips cover his. I love it when he does that. My hearts pulses harder as I straddle him. The tilt of my hips against him is hard and slow.
He lifts my mouth away from his, and says, “Open your eyes and come for me, Jade.”
I open my eyes and lose myself in his gaze. I never realized how amazing it feels to be wanted so badly. A tidal wave of lust has taken over the two of us. We’re so consumed by it that we’re both sweating profusely in the frigid air.
He thrusts up into me. My eyes flutter as he takes me higher and higher. I fight to keep them open, even when I reach my final destination and cry out.
He pauses for an instant, waiting for the pounding of my heart to slow down, and then he goes again. I thought that I was spent, but an incredible sensation swirls through me, and, as it does, moans escape my mouth. My entire body is trembling with a renewed need.
Oliver’s touch is gentle, at first, like butterfly wings caressing my back, but then his finger digs into my butt as he tilts us over.
I’m lying on the bedroom carpet, and his entire weight is on me, pressing me against the floor, as if he wants to melt into me. His arms slide under my knees, and he’s gritting his teeth. He pulls out, and then slams into me with all his strength, again and again, until he growls, and I finally scream. My nails are in the back of his neck as I feel his final throbbing.
I’m so sore that I can’t move.
I’m so sated that I will never want to make love again.
I’m so happy that I want to freeze this instant.
I tell him, and he sweetly mocks me, saying that this is the first of many such mornings, and I’m never getting rid of him ever again.
It’s when he pulls out, and a flow of liquid drenches my legs that I realize we have not used protection. He watches the expression on my face change, and waits for me to freak out. Strangely, I don’t.
He smirks, shrugs his shoulders, and says, “Worse things could happen.”
That’s when I know for sure: this was no accident. He did it on purpose because he’s here to stay.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
IT’S NOON WHEN OLIVER AND I come back to the pool. We had a long talk, and now we have a game plan: we’re moving to New York.
He’s been hired as a consultant by the CMM, the Chinese Museum of Manhattan, to study and catalogue their extensive jade art collection. He has sold his shares of the mine.
Chanlina’s coming, too. She’s applied to the best dancing schools in the country, and she’s been accepted to one in New York. She’s going to give it all she has, and, should it not work out, it will be time enough to pick a more traditional college education. I don’t see how she could fail when it’s her passion, though.
We’ll both be students; I’m going back to school. In four years, when I graduate from med school, Oliver will start traveling and mining again with his own personal physician in attendance.
That’s what we have planned, but we know that the best laid plans can be tossed aside when life happens.
Lyv may get another grandchild sooner than I would like. Actually, Lyv could also become a great-grandmother, as well. There has been an instant connection between Nathanael and Chanlina. But I’m wary; he’s so fickle.
I need to have a talk with Nathanael to let him know that I’ll be watching him like a hawk. I will explain what I’ll do to him if he messes up with Chanlina. It’s better me than Oliver, since they didn’t really start off on the right foot.
For some strange reason, I feel that this could work. Not only because she’s just his type—dark, long, and thin—but because they are both damaged in a similar way. There’s a childhood crack in both of them. It would be perfect if they could complete and fix each other.
Lyv has lunch all set out. She’s wearing a bathing suit with a cute little skirt over it. She’s her usual lively self as she participates in the conversation. Every so often, she looks in the direction of the pool gate.
Okay, one guest is missing.
The barbecue has been heating up forever, and we’re all starving. Lyv pulls out the ears of corn she’s roasted with the leaves on, and she sets the burgers on the grill, asking us all how we want them cooked.
I stand next to her by the grill, and ask, “When did you figure it out?”
“About you and my son? The first day I saw you.”
“Really?”
“Yes. He had written to me about you. He does not write often, so I took it seriously when he did email me to say he had finally found the gem he was going to settle down with.”
“Cute; I’m a gem.”
“Yes, you are,” she winks at me. “You know, I did not raise him to believe in fate, but he said something about your name. I can’t remember how he phrased it, but what he meant was that destiny had made sure that he would not overlook you.”
“My name got a lot of smirks from his crew.”
“Right, and there are not too many Jades around, especially with PhDs in biology, so it had to be you. Thanks to you, there’s another one, now.”
“What do you mean?”
“He did not tell you? When she is one hundred days old, Sirikit’s daughter is getting two names. One will be a traditional Thai name picked by her family according to the old-fashioned customs, and the other will be Jade.”
I have to blink a few times because tears are pooling in my eyes again. Shit, I’m turning into a regular fountain.
Lyv puts a hand on my shoulder, and says, “I am proud that you made him do what was right for that woman.”
We don’t say anything for a while, just flip burgers.
“What time did you tell your boss to be here?”
“Am I that obvious?” She smiles, but it’s a sad smile. “I just told him to come on over for a barbecue at the pool. I was not very specific.”
“So, he could still show, right?”
“Somehow, I doubt it. It’s been getting a bit ugly.”
“I’m sorry,” I say. “Wanna talk about it?”
Very softly, she tells me, “He was going to lose his business to his sister-in-law. The bitch is out to destroy him and the club. There’s a shitload of unsolved sibling rivalry crap that I have yet to figure out. Anyway, I bought her out, and now Ian and I are partners.”
My smile gets bigger as she tells the story. She trusts me enough to curse her heart out. It is funny how she can remain ladylike even when she speaks like that.
“That’s cool.”
“That’s what I thought, too, but no. He’s a fucking Irish macho ass. His pride gets in the way. He hates that he was rescued by a woman,” she growls. “You’d think he’d be happy, but no; he’s mad as hell, and not at her, at me!”
She’s slapping the burgers with the set of cooking tongs. Luckily the beef’s already dead; otherwise, I would feel obligated to call the humane society.
She’s swearing under clenched teeth, and now I know who Oliver got his temper from.
Behind us, the pool gate opens, and I recognize the Irish ass.
“Maybe not as mad as you think,” I say, taking the tongs away from her before she does any more damage to the meat.
“Oh, yes he is.”
“Then you’d better get ready for another fight. He just walked in.”
She does not turn around to check, but simply looks at me, and asks, “Seriously?”
“Yep.” I turn around to grab a few napkins from the table, and hand them to her. “Now wipe the sweat from your face, and take a deep breath.”
She does, and then asks “How do I look?”
“A bit red, but that’s to be expected, since you’re slaving over the grill. Otherwise, good enough to eat.”
“Okay, wish me luck,” she says. I observe his face as she turns around and greets him. That poor man is done for: he’s swallowed the hook, line, sinker, pole, and then the entire boat.
Oliver’s oblivious to the lust in the gaze of his mother’s partner, as he’s gotten into a heated conversation with Nathanael. Chanlina is following their exchange intently while pretending to be reading a book. She notices my watching her and winks.
Maybe sometimes everything does turn out for the best.
The End
ABOUT OLIVIA RIGAL
Born in Manhattan, Olivia Rigal spent her youth going back and forth between the United States and France. She lived and studied in both countries. While studying she kept herself busy with a variety of jobs. She worked in the Clignancourt Flea Market as well as in a Parisian recording studio. In Manhattan, she was a dog groomer and then an administrative assistant in a famous English auction house. Olivia settled in France to raise her family. She travelled throughout South East Asia and has a special fondness for Laos and Thailand. When her law practice does not keep her busy in Paris, she runs away to write novels in her Florida home next to MacArthur Beach State Park.
In December 2012 she started publishing short novels in English as an independent. Early 2014, she began translating them into French.
The story she tells stands alone.
However her characters often meet so you can run into them again in several stories.
She loves to chat with readers so go hang out with her on Facebook.
Kings of Asphalt
By Alexx Andria
Club Chrome series, Book One
By Alexx Andria
KINGS OF ASPHALT
By Alexx Andria
© 2014 Alexx Andria. All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher. All characters are fictitious and any resemblance to an actual person is purely coincidental.
The following novella is approximately 41,000 words and an original work of fiction.
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ONE
The roadside bar reeked of cheap whiskey, spilled beer and bad judgment but Zoe Delacourte wasn’t
about to turn tail and run even though her knees were practically knocking together like two castanets in the hands of a Spanish dancer. This was her chance, her big break, her opportunity to show her editor that she could deliver the real deal, a solid story the readers wanted to read about. Maybe even a Pulitzer. Okay, maybe not a Pulitzer but this was some serious journalism and she had chops to prove.
Okay, so technically, no one knew she was doing this but all the more reason to make it count. Fortune favored the bold, or so they say. Time to put that saying to the test.
She’d been blessed — or cursed, depending on how you look at it — with a nose twitchy for information. Her mom called it downright nosiness but whatever, that quality was exactly what was required in the newsroom and when she happened to run across a small blurb about an execution style murder on the west end of the city that sent her nose to tingling, she couldn’t ignore the urge to scratch further. A little inquiry here, a little digging there, and she’d found quite a few tantalizing leads that she couldn’t help but try and chase down for the bigger story. The problem? No one wanted to touch it. Not that she blamed them. Not even the cop reporter wanted to dig into a possible retaliation hit between the two most notorious motorcycle clubs, The Kings and the Road Dogs, for fear of ending up on the wrong end of a bullet but where others saw a one-way ticket to the morgue, she saw a golden opportunity to finally make her mark.
