“Are you still going to graduate early?”
“I am.” I can hear the pride in Misty’s voice and it makes me smile.
“She’s going to graduate and get a bad ass job in New York,” Josephine adds. It makes me smile wider. The Canó sisters have always been thick as thieves, much like my brothers and me, and it’s something we’ve always silently respected about one another.
“Misty, let me know what building it is.” I turn onto the street she plugged into my GPS.
“You forgot your way around here?” Misty asks with a tsk. “The Cruz brothers move to New York and forget their country roots.”
“We moved when I was thirteen,” I remind her. “And I normally don’t drive on enemy territory if I can help it.”
“Enemy territory.” Misty laughs. “You can stop up ahead to the right.”
I do as instructed and wait for her to gather her jacket and purse and the bag of leftovers we were each given to take home. Once she does that, she kisses Jo on the cheek and makes her promise to text her when she gets home, taps me on the shoulder and thanks me, and walks over to the passenger side window to kiss her grandmother good night. We wait until she’s inside the building and waving at us before I drive away.
“Your turn, Nana.” I glance over at her with a smile.
“So, tell me, Jagger, how is New York these days?”
“It’s . . . New York. Always hectic, always exciting.”
“So you don’t see yourself staying here after graduation?”
“Probably not.”
“He’s a city boy through and through, Nana,” Jo says from the back seat with a yawn. “Besides, he may go to the NFL and if he does he’ll have to go to whatever city gives him a better contract.”
“Are we boring you, Josephine?” Nana asks.
“No, ma’am. I can’t think about anything more exciting to talk about than Jagger’s plans for the future.” She yawns again. I shake my head, fighting a smile.
“What are your plans for the future?” I meet her gaze in the rearview.
“I’m just trying to survive this semester.” She glances down at her hands again. “I had all these elaborate plans, but after the summer I had, I just want to focus on one day at a time.”
“That’s fair.”
“Smart,” Nana says. “But I still haven’t heard what exactly happened this summer. I can’t believe they kicked you off the volleyball team!”
“I’m surprised you still live all the way out here,” I say, trying to change the subject, for Jo’s sake even though I’m dying to hear details about her summer.
“When Henry decided to move here and Ray and I followed, there was nothing out here. I liked that. It reminded me of my farm back home, but now, now look at this place,” she says as I pull into her driveway.
“You have everything right in front of you.” I nod, looking at the plaza across the street. There’s everything from a grocery store to a popular makeup chain.
“It’s preposterous, if you ask me. Ray would be annoyed by all of the traffic if he was still here. And our new neighbors, don’t even get me started on them. They complained about my chickens, as if we don’t have enough land between us.” Nana starts getting out of the car, but Josephine beats her to the door and I scramble to get out so I can walk her up the few steps, not that Nana needs my help. She’s a grandmother, sure, but I’d bet money she’s as agile as a twenty-year-old. She says good night to Jo before walking up the steps and I follow. “Thank you for the ride,” she says after unlocking her door. “Next time I need to go somewhere, I’m calling you so you can pick me up. Josephine’s car is entirely too uncomfortable.”
“I’ll be here.” I wink and jog back down the steps.
Josephine’s sitting in the passenger seat now, reaching over and messing with the radio. For a second I wonder if our moment is over, if the kiss was just a fleeting lapse of judgment, but when our eyes meet through the windshield I feel a spark and I know moments with Jo, if not taken for granted, could never be fleeting.
Chapter 20
Josephine
My phone buzzes on my lap and I see a text from Bobby that says, It was nice to meet you. Let’s go out soon. Misty dutifully gave him my number when she ran back inside to get my food. I smile at the text because guys don’t normally text the same night. Or do they? I don’t even know anymore. After Lawrence, I haven’t dated anyone, and Lawrence and I started on Instagram, so it’s not like he texted right away either. I look at Jagger, who’s focused on driving.
“Do guys usually text the same night they meet someone?”
“Bobby texted?” He slides his eyes over to me and back to the road. “I thought we agreed you’d use my body.”
“Use your body?” I laugh.
“That’s what a casual hookup is.” He shrugs a shoulder.
Is it? I wouldn’t know. I glance out the window and focus on the trees and houses and strip malls. The kiss we shared is still tingling my lips. The thought of more is causing a burning deep in my stomach. I’m living with him though. How will that work? Will we hook up in the living room and then sleep in our respective rooms? Uneasiness starts to take over the previous burning feeling.
“I think we need rules,” I blurt out.
“Rules?” He parallel parks in front of our shared house.
“Yes. Rules. Like are we going to hook up and then go to our separate bedrooms?”
“What do you want to do?”
“I think it’s best we stay in separate rooms.” I lick my lips. “Just in case.”
“Just in case?” His mouth twitches but he doesn’t push. “Okay. What else?”
“Will we still be allowed to date other people?” I unbuckle my seat belt, but instead of getting out of the car, turn to face him in my seat. He does the same.
“I don’t date.” He says it with a look on his face that almost looks bewildered by the mere idea of dating and makes me believe him.
“You don’t take the women you hook up with to dinner?”
“Not if I can help it.”
“Why?” This makes me laugh for some reason, the ridiculous fact that he sticks his dick in someone’s vagina but won’t share a meal with her.
“I don’t know. They want to fuck a football star. They don’t care about dinner.”
“You’ve asked?”
“I don’t have to ask, Jo. It’s pretty obvious when someone grabs your dick in public that they’re not thinking about food.”
“Hm.” That gives me pause, but it makes sense.
When I was dating Lawrence, women never stopped flirting with him and I thought maybe they wanted to date him but that obviously wasn’t the case. He cheated on me more times than I realized and he still wasn’t dating any of them.
“I thought you wanted casual,” Jagger says after a moment. “Dating isn’t casual.”
“Just because I go on a date with someone doesn’t mean I’ll sleep with them. I just want to set ground rules so that this doesn’t become a problem if I decide to go grab coffee with another guy.”
“You can grab coffee with whomever you like.”
“Okay then. What about sleeping around?”
“What about it?” He raises an eyebrow.
“Will you still hook up with other women?”
“Do you want me to?”
“I’m not sure.” I bite my lip. I’m really not. I don’t consider myself a jealous person, but the times I’ve seen Jagger with other women I have definitely felt something. “Maybe we should revisit this one.”
“Okay.” He searches my eyes. “Are we done talking?”
My pulse leaps. “I think so.”
“Good.” He switches the car off and walks outside.
I grab the bag of leftovers at my feet and set a hand on the door, but he’s already opening it for me. When I step out of the car, he grabs the bags from my hand and pushes the car door shut. We walk into the house in silence, anticipation growing with
each step. I really haven’t done this in a long time and I don’t know how to start. Normally, with Lawrence, we’d both be in bed getting ready to go to sleep and it would start gradually. With Jagger it seems foreign, like I’m completely starting over and don’t know what to do. He tosses his keys on the entrance table, sets the bags of food on the table, and looks over at me.
“You seem nervous.”
“I am.”
“Are you nervous because it’s me or . . . ” He starts walking toward me.
“I don’t know.” My heart is pounding so hard, my chest hurts. I’m one thousand percent nervous because it’s him. I try to envision this moment with someone like Bobby and I know I wouldn’t be reacting this way.
“This doesn’t even feel real.” He lifts a hand up and cups my face, his thumb brushing along my bottom lip. My mouth parts with an inhale. “I’m half expecting someone to show up and end this before it even starts.”
“Maybe we should,” I whisper. “Maybe that’s your conscience telling you this shouldn’t happen.”
“What is yours saying?” His eyes darken with the question.
“I can’t hear it. My heart is roaring too loudly and drowning it out.”
“Aren’t you supposed to follow your heart?”
“I don’t know.” I gasp when his hand moves and tightens on the nape of my neck, pulling me forward until our lips almost meet, but not quite.
“You need to decide,” he whispers against me. “I don’t want you to regret this in the morning.” He pulls away slightly to search my eyes as if he knows that’s what I’m worried about and he’s looking for some sort of confirmation. I decide that I won’t allow myself to regret this. I want him too much. I need him right now.
“I want you,” I say, finally, and he crashes his lips to mine, growling as he deepens the kiss, his fingers wrapping into the hair at the nape of my neck and pulling as he walks me backwards.
My knees hit the couch and we both come crashing down on it. He lets go of me just in time to catch himself from completely landing on me and pulls away from the kiss. Hooded eyes look down on me and my chest suddenly feels full, a heaviness of inexplicable emotions ricocheting. Instead of giving them attention, I focus on unbuttoning his dress shirt, my hands shaking with nerves, with desire, with the absolute need for this. He brings a hand to my face, his long fingers running along the side of my neck, his thumb on my chin, brushing over my lower lip as I reach the last button. I tear my gaze from his and look at his torso, tanned and toned, every single muscle cut and defined as if he were etched. He lifts up and finishes taking the shirt off, tossing it on the floor. Instead of coming right back down, he stays sitting back on his heel and stands up.
“I’ll be right back.” He leans down and kisses me in a way that renders me speechless and leaves me writhing even as he pulls away. “Don’t move.”
He rushes off, I assume to get a condom. I sit up, take my shirt off, shimmy my jeans down and stay in the black bra and black boy shorts I’m wearing. When he jogs back, he stops short by the armrest, his toffee-colored eyes blazing like fire as they rake over me slowly. He licks his lips, a move that shoots straight between my legs, and tosses the condom on the table beside us as he closes the distance between us.
“Damn,” he says, a hoarse whisper followed by a swallow.
He begins taking his pants off, unbuckling the designer belt before working on the button and zipper. There’s a large bulk that’s impossible to miss and takes my breath away just a little at the memory of what’s hiding underneath. Maybe it’s because he was my first, but I’ve never forgotten how beautiful and perfect his cock is. Granted, I only have a couple of others to compare it to—the guy from high school I jerked off in the back row of the movie theatre and Lawrence. Neither compare to Jagger’s. That’s a terrible thing when he’s not only just my rebound but also someone who only does casual. He finishes undressing and soon he’s completely naked in front of me and I feel wetter than ever as I take in his physique. I decide casual dick shouldn’t be this magnificent. It’s unfair, really, but at least I know it’s casual going into it. When he meets me on the couch again, his lips are soft against mine, but still hungry, his calloused fingertips grazing over my bare shoulder and down my arm, the other snaking underneath my bra strap and then to my back where he expertly snaps it off with two fingers, a move that speaks volumes. He did it the first time, the only time, we were together, and even then it gave me pause but I find that the only thing I want to do is give in to him and there isn’t much he can do or say to stop that from being the case.
His lips leave mine and his gaze flickers to mine as he drags the straps of my bra down my arms slowly, not looking away even after he tosses the bra aside. His hand caresses the side of my face, and it feels so intimate that I have to fight the urge to pull away and plead with him to just fuck me and not take his time with me. A part of me wants to. A part of me knows that this is why he leaves a trace of casualties behind. He takes his time. He makes you feel like you’re the only one, the most important one, and maybe I am right now, for a moment. I decide to get lost in that reality, and it’s the way he kisses me and touches me ever so gently, with that fire in his eyes, that makes me stop overthinking this. He brings a hand between my legs and tucks it into my underwear, groaning when his fingers slide against my slickness.
“You’re so ready for me.” He presses his lips against mine, moving so that he’s off the couch and slipping my underwear off with one hand as he continues to play with my pussy with the other.
His mouth leaves mine and explores my body, my neck, my chest, my nipples as his fingers dive inside of me with such force my entire body bends off the couch in a gasp. His thumb presses down on my clit as his fingers go deeper and I find that the only thing I can do is grind against his hand, my eyes rolling to the back of my head as the first sensation of the orgasm washes over me. His mouth is still locked on my nipple when he slides his fingers out of me and wipes his hand, slick with my desire, over my thigh. I think I make a sound, a pout, saying I don’t want him to stop, but that’s before I hear the condom wrapper and my eyes pop open to see him sliding it on. He leans over me, one arm over my head, holding on to the couch, the other hand guiding his cock between my legs.
“I want to take my time with you,” he says, pausing to bite his lip as the tip teases my clit. “But I can’t right now. I’ve waited so long, Josephine.”
He begins thrusting inside of me, inch by inch, his stroke slow as he fills me, and once he’s completely in he stops moving, the hand he’d used to guide himself into me now gripping my waist, his eyes shut as he breathes through his nose roughly.
“Fuck, you’re tight.” He bites his bottom lip, eyes still closed, and I feel my chest constrict.
The need for him to move is too great, and even though I know he’s savoring this, having him inside me, filling me like this, and not having him move is absolute torture, so I swing my hips once, earning a groan from him, twice, making his eyes pop open and find mine, three times, making his grip tighten more so, but it’s that third time that makes him move, really move. He fucks me hard, my head hitting the top of the couch with each thrust. He presses against me until he hits my pelvic bone and slides out in such a way that I find I cannot breathe. He brings his hand between us and starts playing with my clit as he slams into me. I try and fail not to make embarrassing sounds, but I feel myself shatter beneath him just as my words get louder, and it’s the scream that rips out of me that makes him come undone.
The aftermath is awkward, for me, at least. Jagger pulls out of me slowly and I wince, feeling every bit of his absence. He helps me get on my feet and once I’m up, I pick up my things and idle for a second. Thankfully, he walks to the bathroom and I disappear into my bedroom and wait until I hear him finish with the bathroom before I go in there. While I’m washing my hair, I try to figure out everything I should say to him when I see him, but come up blank. I don’t know what it is abou
t him that makes me think I can’t do casual with him. Maybe it’s because he was my first and they say you never forget your first. Maybe I actually like him more than I want to admit. My answer comes when I walk out of the bathroom and Jagger’s nowhere to be found. This is good. I don’t have to say anything at all. This is what I want. I just didn’t expect it to make me feel this empty.
Chapter 21
Jo
I couldn’t sleep. I got up at five and noticed Jagger’s door was ajar and he wasn’t in the house, and that made me go down a rabbit hole of what-ifs, one I’m all too familiar with, since it’s the same what-ifs that haunted me throughout the majority of my relationship with Lawrence. What if I did something wrong? What if he decided what we did was a stupid mistake? What if he regrets me? I left as soon as I could, taking an Uber to the restaurant to pick up my car and gathering my thoughts on the way to math class. Now I’m sitting here, chewing off my cuticles, wondering if I should’ve come today. Needless to say, no thoughts were gathered on the ride over.
I keep replaying last night in my head. The way he looked at me, the way he kissed me, the way he touched me, and I can’t stop feeling things I’m not ready to feel. I can’t remember feeling this way with Lawrence, although I’m sure I must have in the beginning, but that was before everything that happened to spoil what once was and in truth I can barely remember how things were before they turned tumultuous. The class started filling in and I spot Jessa talking to a friend as they take their seats in the middle of the room. I wonder if things will be awkward or if she’ll just ignore Jagger altogether. Why do I care? I don’t know, but I do.
Jagger walks into the room just seconds later and my heart launches into my throat. He’s wearing a black T-shirt and jeans and his hair is slicked back, obviously wet from a shower. I bite my lip just thinking about what’s underneath all of those clothes. I bite it harder when he turns those eyes in my direction and holds my gaze. He doesn’t smile, doesn’t do anything at all that screams we had sex last night, and yet, as he walks over to me and takes a seat in the empty chair beside me, I feel like everyone knows.
Fall in Love Book Bundle: Small Town Romance Box Set Page 99
