Crush
Page 6
Grammy had made a roast with potatoes and carrots. Jason sautéed a mix of greens with onions and spices. Grammy gave him the side-eye as he was cooking but when he handed her the spoon to taste, her face lit up.
“Baby, did you know he could cook, too?”
“Yes, Grammy. I know he can cook.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Do you, now? Well, Jason, do you know that my baby can cook circles around me?”
Jason raised a brow and looked at me. “No, ma’am, I was not aware that she possessed that particular skill.” I looked at him, blinking innocently.
Her eyes cut from him to me and back again. “Um-hmm. Jayla, you don’t have to beat that batter to death. Put the cake in the oven and then go see why I can’t get my e-mail to come up on that machine you insisted I have.”
Leave Grammy alone with Jason? Where they could exchange all manner of information? Not likely. “Um, Grammy don’t you need—”
“Girl, you heard me the first time.”
I sighed. “Yes, ma’am.” I poured the batter into the cake mold and walked over toward the double oven. I was close enough to Jason to whisper and have him hear me. “You behave out here, Mr. Jericho.”
“Or what?” he said teasingly.
“You do not want to find out. You remember, I’m a hood chick. I’m tougher than I look.”
“Bring it on, girlie.”
I closed the oven door, set the timer, and turned to see Grammy giving me “the look.” Feeling twelve years old all over again, I walked over and kissed her cheek. “You love me, Grammy.” I walked across the living room to her little home office.
As I booted up her system I heard her start in. “Now, young man, my Jayla is a special girl.”
“Grammy!” I called out, mortified.
“Mind your business, young lady,” she called back.
“Yes, ma’am. That is the exact word I used to describe her to my best friend. She’s special.”
He did? I strained to hear more of their conversation.
“Well, then, you’re as smart as I think you are. Now, her parents were never worth a damn. It always shamed me that I raised a daughter as flighty and useless as her mother, but I’ve given that situation up to God. When Janet left Jayla with me, I felt like I’d been given a chance to do it right. And I did. That girl is a product of me getting it right the second time around. Do you understand?”
“Yes, ma’am, I believe I do.”
“Her father was little better than a pretty sperm donor and only turns up nowadays when he needs a loan or to pretend he has a paternal gene in his body.”
Jason didn’t say anything and I felt myself getting a little misty.
“I don’t know all the details, but the last few boys she’s messed around with ain’t been a bit of good either. What I’m saying is . . . my girl is due some goodness. Someone real and someone who sticks. Is that you, or are you just a pretty face?”
“Ma’am, I stick. Given the opportunity, once I’m in. I stay.”
“You sound like you’ve been around a block or two yourself.”
“At least once or twice, Ethel Joy.”
“Well, all right then, nothing wrong with a little life experience. Helps you recognize landmarks on life’s little highways. Now, let’s get some food on the table. You do set tables?”
“Like a pro.”
“Baby, you can stop straining your ears and come get the napkins.”
I dried my eyes with a Kleenex. There was no one like my Grammy. “Yes, ma’am, on my way.”
9
Sunday
Sunday night Jason and I were just getting back from Ethel Joy’s. She talked us into staying the night (in separate rooms, of course) and going to church with her in the morning. We had brunch, took her to the movies, and played Scrabble. I couldn’t remember the last time I had enjoyed myself that well. Great company, great conversation, great food, and all without the spectre of having to be in the office at the crack of dawn the next day.
It was the most relaxed I had been in months, maybe even years. But by the time Jason and I got on the road and headed back to Wicker Park, the sexual tension between us had blossomed again. Stronger than ever.
You could ask me under oath to recount how we got from the parking garage around the corner to the bed inside my condo, but I could not tell you with any sort of clarity. What I can say is within thirty seconds of entering my home, we were both naked. Less than one minute later, my back hit the mattress and Jason was protected and inside of me . . . hot, hard, and deep. He swelled inside of me for a perfect, snug fit.
“Yes,” I hissed under my breath. He gave me exactly what I needed exactly when I needed it. No preliminaries, no foreplay this time, just that scorching friction and fullness scraping those sensitive nerve endings. Testing the both of us, I squeezed my internal muscles on his next upstroke.
He grabbed my hips and tilted them upward. “Oh, you want to play?” He ground down on me, hitting my G-spot from the inside and my pearl of pleasure on the outside. Circling his hips out, he slid down and repeated the motion, lifting my hips with the next stroke.
I strained my hips upward and circled tightly in the opposite direction, still squeezing him from the inside. My wetness was everywhere, running down my thighs and his, scenting the air.
“You do want to play,” he gritted out and slid a finger in between us to press teasing flicks against me.
Not even a full stroke later, I started convulsing. “Jason!”
“God, baby—you are so hot, so responsive, don’t close your eyes. I want to watch, I want to see.” He slowed his strokes to draw out my climax as he rode me gently, rhythmically.
My eyelids rose slowly and I met his gaze, allowing him to see the helpless passion exploding, the satiation flowing through me. My flagrant satisfaction triggered his response, and with a low groan, he began to come. Our eyes stayed locked on each other as we shuddered through to completion. The moment was electrical, sensual, and very intimate, especially for two people who were strangers three weeks ago.
Startled by the unsettling feeling of rightness, I snapped my eyes closed and turned my head to the side. I was unnerved. I felt exposed and vulnerable, not like myself. Breathing deeply, I struggled to come to terms with the events of the night and the whole weekend. It had been quite the ride. In more ways than one.
Jason rolled off me and lay on his back beside me. We both rested silently, staring at the ceiling. After a moment, he shifted onto his side and ran a finger down the center of my chest, down my stomach before circling my belly button. His hand rested low on my abdomen, fingers splayed wide. “This is . . .” He sighed, seemingly at a loss for words. His thumb stroked lazily back and forth, each time passing deliciously close to the top of my pouting, swollen lips. Unconsciously, I arched upward into his touch, causing that thumb to graze me in just the right spot. His thumb paused and pressed once as my juices flooded his hand.
We both groaned and I turned to look at him. “This is crazy.” I had never responded to anyone like this. Yes, it had been a while and yes, I was needy, but not even at my most passionate had I been this open, responsive, and insatiable.
He nodded. “It is crazy, mind-blowing, confusing, exhilarating . . .”
“Addictive and scary,” I finished for him, shivering a little before I rolled away.
He took my hand to stop me from going too far. “Are you scared, Jayla?”
I looked down at our joined hands before meeting his eyes. “No, I’m not scared. I guess I’m embarrassed.” I dropped his hand and walked into the bathroom to run a bath. My body ached in delicious places while my mind raced from thought to thought. Adding cucumber-melon-scented foaming salts to the water, I turned as I heard Jason come into the room.
Holding up a cold bottle of water, he said softly, “I’ll share the water if you share the bath.” He stood there waiting for my response.
I liked that in spite of all I had allowed this evening, he s
till respected boundaries. It was sweet. And it probably would’ve seemed old fashioned if we both weren’t standing naked in my bathroom like longtime lovers even though we were working with less than a month of acquaintance.
Settling into the large tub, I held out a hand. “Come on in, the water’s fine.”
He grinned, passing me the chilled bottle. “You reachin’ for this or for me?” He climbed into the tub and settled in behind me as if we’d done this hundreds of times before.
I took a long drink, set the bottle on the ledge, and leaned back against him with a sigh. The warm water felt great between my legs, soothing the swollen skin.
“Sore, baby?” he murmured, cupping water in his hands and sloughing it over my shoulders. His hands slid down my arms before landing on the top of my thighs.
“Just a little,” I responded, letting my head fall back against his shoulder. “It’s been a while.” As soon as the words came out of my mouth, I sat up and moved toward the middle of the tub. “I cannot believe I just told you that.”
He scooted forward and used his hands on my thighs to nestle me back up against him. “Jayla, relax. What did I say earlier?”
“Uh, which time? When you said, ‘Jayla likes it like that?’ ” One of the hottest things anyone had ever said to me.
He chuckled. “That, too, but seriously—I said I wouldn’t judge you and I won’t. So stop worrying about it. Stop being embarrassed, just enjoy.”
I liked that he was witty, and sexy, and gorgeous. “You can’t be real.”
“Why do you say that?” His long fingers traced circles on the inside of my thighs and I suddenly found it hard to concentrate on the conversation.
“You seem like a dream,” I said lazily, not really censoring myself. “You look like you look, you say those things you say, and the way you make love to me . . .”
“Yes?” His fingers stilled on my skin under the silky water.
I rotated until I was facing him, placing my legs on either side of his hips. “Something about you just makes me want to say things and do things . . . that I never ever do.” I leaned forward and licked his lips until he parted them. “You make love like one of my best dreams ever,” I whispered against his lips before plunging my tongue inside. I was aggressive with my kiss, diving in and darting my tongue around before nipping at his bottom lip with my teeth.
He wrapped his arms around me and dragged me closer, changing the angle of the kiss and giving me as good as he got. Crossing my legs behind his back, I brushed against his quickly hardening dick. I wrenched my mouth from his and leaned back, breathing deeply. “You kiss like a dream, too.”
My chest was rising and falling, my heart beating quickly. Without warning he tilted his head forward and took one of my nipples into his mouth, sucking it to pebble hardness. He traced the tip with his tongue, teasing and nipping with his teeth. Greedily, I held the other one up for his ministrations. “Jason, please.” As he switched to lathe the other nipple with his tongue, his hand came up to lightly pinch and twist so both nipples were attended to. Jolts of pleasure shot straight from my nipples along already jangled nerves. My hips started gyrating of their own volition.
Replacing his mouth with his hands, he sucked my bottom lip into his mouth. “You are so responsive, liquid. So damn hot. How are you holding all of this in, baby?”
“I’m never like this, I’m not like this.... It’s just you,” I whispered against his lips.
Reaching underneath the water, I grabbed hold of him and began squeezing rhythmically while sliding my hand up and down.
His hips twitched and he groaned in the back of his throat. Sliding backward, he stood up and pulled me with him. Grabbing two fluffy towels, he wrapped one around his waist before lifting me bodily out of the tub. Securing the towel around me, he carried me out of the bathroom, focusing on the quickest path to my bed.
“Oh my,” I said under my breath, literally swept away. It should have been incredibly corny and overdone that he was carrying me to bed. Instead, I thought it was hot and romantic.
He raised a brow, smiled, and looked down at me. “Oh my?”
“I don’t believe I’ve ever actually been carried off to bed before.” I glanced up at him through my lashes.
He stopped by the side of the bed.“Jayla likes that?” He set me down on the bed and started drying me off in soft, circular strokes.
I all but purred, “Oh yeah, Jayla likes that.” Leaning back, I took a second to appreciate the sight of him. Sculpted torso with arm muscles rippling as he leaned forward to tend to me. My glance fell lower and I saw the rigid outline of him at full attention, tenting the towel. My mouth went dry before watering. Reaching up, I slid my hands up his damp abdomen, trailing up over his pectorals, feeling across his shoulders, down his arms, and back up.
He paused and took a deep breath. “That’s nice.”
“Jason likes that?” I whispered.
His gorgeous lips quirked upward. “Jason likes that.”
“You’re really going to like this then. . . .” I put my hands behind his neck and pulled him down, twisting and angling so he was lying back on the bed with his legs dangling off the side. I unwrapped the towel like a child with a gift on Christmas morning, eyes sparkling, and breathless with anticipation. I reached down and took him in my hands, my eyes floating up to meet his eyes, which had darkened to an almost forest green color. Trailing my fingers up and down the shaft, I didn’t wait another moment before leaning down and taking him in my mouth. We both groaned in appreciation.
I alternated techniques, taking him deep into my throat with slow strokes before squeezing his base with my hand as I licked and flicked my tongue up the length, following with a quick nibble at the tip before starting the whole process over again.
“Jesus, Jayla.”
“Hmm.” I paused teasingly. “You want me to stop?”
Wordlessly, he reached down, placed his hand on the top of my head, and urged me back to task. I laughed quietly before sucking him back deep. As I pumped and sucked, his hips rose up to meet me and his quiet sighs became words of pleading.
“That is so good, Jayla, hmm—don’t stop, baby.”
The more he talked, the faster I went and the hotter I became.
“God yes, just like that,” he growled. “You suck me just . . . like . . . that.”
Giving him so much pleasure increased my own and I felt my body quickening again. At the same time, he reached down and tweaked my nipples with his long fingers. His fingers and my mouth echoed the same frantic rhythm and within moments he began to come. The thick fluid sliding down my throat triggered my own climax and I sucked him harder and deeper as I rode the sensation.
“Jayla,” he screamed as I determinedly sucked every last bit of fluid from him. He continued to shudder with aftershocks as I held him in my mouth. Finally, he reached under my arms and lifted me off of him. “Lord, woman, you could kill a man like that.”
I curled up next to him. “You’d die happy.”
He kissed the top of my head and my eyes drifted shut for just a second.
10
Back at Work
My eyes opened like a déjà vu. I registered a few things at once: It was very light outside, I was naked and neatly tucked into my bed, and the scent of chocolate and coffee was in the air. In other words, not a normal morning. I sat up and long-neglected muscles twanged in symphony to remind me of my extended weekend’s activities.
Monday, Jason and I had lounged around his house watching old movies before coming back to my place. Jason had spent the night teaching me things about my body that I had never known before and was determined never to forget. We had had another go-round in the bathtub and it was quickly becoming one of my favorite ways to get clean and be dirty all at the same time.
With a deep sigh, I realized it was Tuesday morning and time to get back to reality.
“Jason?” I called out to no response. Turning to my bedside table, I saw an insula
ted travel mug from the coffeehouse with a note propped up in front of it. Bold masculine handwriting filled the small sheet.
“Jayla, you looked so sweet sleeping; I didn’t want to wake you. Brought you some of my special white mocha, hoping after the past few days you haven’t had your fill. Thank you for an incredible weekend. See you soon, Jason.”
I read the note a few more times as an increasingly large smile spread across my face. He’d underlined “incredible” three times. Classy note from a classy guy, I thought. I flicked open the lid on the coffee mug and moaned . . . instant flashback. Cool green eyes smiling into mine, hot body pressed against mine, the thick feeling of fullness. Shaking my head, I took a sip. It was perfect, of course. And no, even after the past few nights, I had not gotten my fill. Not of this coffee or of Jason Jericho. I sat savoring the flavors exploding on my tongue and the memory reel playing in my head until my eyes fell on the clock.
Choking on my mocha I blinked, squeezed my eyes shut, and blinked them open again—8:15? I couldn’t even think of the last time I wasn’t at work by 7:30. I shook my head as if clearing it from a dream and headed into the bathroom with my coffee in hand. I saw that the bathtub had been drained and the towels from last night folded and stacked neatly on the counter. Jason wasn’t a dream but he was definitely too good to be true.
Jetting into work over an hour and a half later than usual had its benefits: I was so far behind schedule that I had very little time to dwell on my evening. Trying to play catch-up all morning, Kim had no time to do more than spend odd moments eyeing me suspiciously. At close to one o’clock, she came in with two salads and bottled tea. Closing the door behind her, she waited until we were situated at my small conference table to start the interrogation.
“Okay, what’s up?”
Innocently I blinked at her as I spritzed vinaigrette dressing over the spinach leaves. “What?”
Her eyes narrowed. “You were two hours late, you’ve been smiling all day, your hair is fluffy, and your eyes are shiny. . . . What’s up?”