by Laura Lee
“When my dad called her over to us, and she dropped to her knees right there, I knew I couldn’t say no, but I also wasn’t going to actually let her touch me. That’s when I asked if we could go somewhere more private. I think my dad was going to argue until he saw Madeline practically drooling over my open fly. I don’t know what his deal is with her, but I do know my dad doesn’t like competition.”
I clench my jaw. “Kissing is touching, Kingston. And you still followed a naked woman into what I assume was a bedroom.”
He sighs. “You’re right; I did follow her to the bedroom. Where there weren’t any cameras. My dad assured me that room wasn’t being filmed, but since his word means shit, I checked with my detection device to confirm.”
I scoff. “And what about the prostitute?”
“The second we got in that room and I knew it was clear, I threw a blanket to her and told her to cover herself up. That nothing was going to happen.”
“And she was perfectly okay with that? What about when your dad asked what happened?”
“At first, I was just planning to pay her off, but then she asked me if I was gay, and I went with it. Told her that I was afraid to come out of the closet; that my dad would never understand and disown me. I played on her sympathies. Asked her to pretend we fucked, and she agreed. We stayed in there for a while and made appropriate noises so it’d be believable. Then I took off.”
“How can you be so sure it worked? That she went along with it?”
“Because she told me her little brother was gay and he was in the same boat with their parents. Wound up committing suicide at fourteen. She said she’d do it for him.”
“Kingston, why should I believe anything you say?”
“Because I’m telling the truth.”
I shake my head. “I saw how you looked at her. How you kissed her. You sure as hell looked like you were into it.”
“Because I had to look like I was into it!”
I’m glad the windows are closed to muffle the volume because our voices are becoming increasingly louder.
Tears prick at my eyes. “I’m not going to be the stupid girl who’d rather feign ignorance than accept that her boyfriend is a cheater.”
“I’m not a fucking cheater!” His eyes are manic. “I’ve never been a cheater. Jesus-fucking-Christ, Jazz. You think I liked kissing that woman? I was trying not to fucking vomit! The thought of kissing someone else, being with someone who’s not you, makes me physically ill! It was all part of the act!”
“How do I know this conversation isn’t an act?” I flick my finger between us. “That everything you’ve said to me isn’t an act?”
“Because if you’d get out of your own goddamn head for a second, you’d see the truth staring you in the face. You just need to look, Jazz.”
“And what’s that?”
“That I fucking love you, all right? I didn’t want to. God knows I fought it, but I couldn’t stop it. I. Fucking. Love. You.” Kingston rakes a hand through his thick hair. “If you don’t want to take my word for it, my mic was on the whole time I was in that house. Listen to the recording.”
I blink several times. “I don’t know what to say, Kingston.”
My head falls back against the seat as I close my eyes, processing. I open them again when I feel Kingston’s thumb brushing against my cheek.
“Jazz.” His voice is raspy. When our eyes meet, I see that his are also filled with tears. “Don’t shut me out.”
I put my hand over his. “I don’t want to, but it fucking hurts. I can’t just bleach the memory of you with that girl out of my brain.”
“I know, baby. And I’m so fucking sorry.” He scoots closer and rests his forehead against mine. “I need you, Jazz. We’re so close, but I can’t do this without you.”
I pull back and check my reflection in the mirror. “We need to get Belle. She’s been waiting in there for too long.”
“Are we good?” Kingston brushes some hair away from my face. “Because I can’t ever have you take off like that again. I was scared to death.”
I turn my face into him. “If you’re ever in a situation like that again... you need to find another way, Kingston. I won’t be okay with you touching someone else—not even kissing—even if it’s all part of the front. I can’t.”
“I swear on my fucking nuts. It won’t happen again.”
I jerk my head toward the house. “Well, then, let’s get Belle to that museum. We can talk more later.”
He nods. “Okay.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
KINGSTON
The last twenty-four hours have seemed like days. When I had no idea where Jazz was, I imagined the worst. Then, when Bent told me she called and that he heard some dude’s voice in the background, I wasn’t exactly relieved, considering what she witnessed earlier in the evening. I spent the rest of the night wondering if she was going to seek refuge in some other guy’s arms because she thought I fucked someone else.
When I saw her sitting in the car with her asshole ex this morning, I was even more concerned and instantly irate. Jazz wouldn’t be the first person to fall back in bed with an ex because the familiar provides comfort. I still don’t know what happened, and quite frankly, I don’t think I want to after she was struck silent when I dropped the L-bomb. I didn’t mean to blurt it out like that—hell, I didn’t even realize it until the words left my mouth—but once it was out there, it was too late to take it back.
The fact that she had nothing to say in return... well, fuck. I don’t know what to do with that. I’m not surprised she didn’t immediately return the sentiment, but I also can’t say I’m not butthurt by that. I’ve never said those words to any woman besides my mom or sister. And with Jazz, they carry an entirely different meaning. Fuck, I’m so tied up in knots over this girl, it’s not even funny.
“Are you sure you don’t want to just go pack a bag and stay at my place?” I shift my car into park in front of Callahan’s mansion.
“I’m sure, Kingston. Just like I was the first five times you asked.” Jazz unbuckles her seat belt and turns toward me. “Thank you for making another Sunday special for my sister.”
My eyebrows lift. “Special for Belle... but not for you?”
She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth. “I’ve just got a lot going through my head right now. I had a nice enough time, though, so thanks.”
“A nice enough time,” I repeat. “Just what every guy wants to hear when he takes his girlfriend out for the day.”
Jazz sighs. “Goodnight, Kingston. Don’t worry about me in the morning. I’ll have Frank give me a ride to school.”
I watch, dumbfounded, as she hikes her backpack over her shoulder and exits the vehicle. Jazz doesn’t look back once as she approaches the front door or steps inside the house. I’m not sure how long I stare at that door, waiting for her to come back before I launch into action. I use my key to go through the side door and make my way over to the staircase. I don’t run into anyone on the way, but unfortunately, my luck runs out when I reach the upper level.
Peyton freezes just outside her bedroom as she sees me. She pulls on the doorknob, shutting the door behind her. “Kingston. W-what are you doing here?”
I take in her disheveled hair, kiss-swollen lips, and sticky skin. Based on her appearance and the distinct smell of sex wafting from her, it’s obvious Peyton isn’t alone in her bedroom. Usually, she’d rub that in my face, because she’s holding out hope that one day I’ll care, but Peyton’s being oddly cagey right now, which tells me she doesn’t want me to know who’s in there.
“We’ll get to that. I’d like to know what you’re trying to hide first.”
She balks. “Why would I try to hide something from you?”
I jerk my chin over her shoulder. “Who’s in your bedroom, Peyton?”
Peyton glares. “None of your business, Kingston. Unless you want to be in my bedroom, you lost the right to ask.”
“What if I said I d
id want another chance? Would you let me in?”
Her eyes widen. “Uh... I mean, I’d have to think about it.”
I scoff. “You’d have to think about it, huh? So, if I told you to turn around, walk back into your room, and bend over the bed so I can pound you into the mattress, you’d have to think about it?”
Peyton’s nipples harden through the short, silk robe she’s wearing, telling me she likes that idea very much. I, however, am trying not to lose my dinner all over the floor.
“Well... I mean... if you really wanted to...”
“All you need to do is tell your current company to leave, Peyton.” I finger the collar of her robe. “Then, I could remind you what a solid fucking really is.”
Her cheeks pinken. “Uh... if you can just give me a few minutes.”
I lean against the opposite wall and cross my arms. “I’ll be waiting right here.”
Peyton slips inside her room, and within seconds, I hear a deep voice shouting. Not too long after, a seriously pissed off Lucas Gale steps into the hall, flashing a venomous glare in my direction.
“Fuck you, dude. Not cool at all.”
When the door opens again, imagine my surprise when the piece of shit I beat up at that Malibu party comes out. I laugh when Barclay Baker scurries by without a word. After about a minute, a third and fourth guy—this time Christian Taylor and David Wright—come out. They, too, can’t get away from me fast enough.
“Jesus Christ,” I mutter to myself. “Peyton’s pussy is like a goddamn clown car.”
Peyton finally returns after another minute, looking a bit more put together, with a giant smile on her face. “So... uh, maybe I should shower first or something. Do you want to join me?”
I shake my head. “Peyton, you really are dumber than you look. I had zero intention of touching you beforehand, but I definitely wouldn’t be interested now even if I had. Maybe if you get on your knees and grovel, it’s not too late to call your harem back.”
Her entire face reddens so much, it’s nearly purple. “You’re an asshole!”
I give her a wry look. “So everyone likes to tell me. If you’re going to insult me, at least put some effort into it.”
“Why are you here, Kingston? Did you just come here to cockblock me?”
I smirk. “Nah. That was just a bonus. Although, while I have your attention, I’m going to do you a solid and give you some advice.”
She parks both hands on her hips. “What?”
“You don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into with these... alliances you’ve formed. You may think you have it made because you have some powerful people behind you, but let me assure you, Peyton, you’re just a measly puppet on a much grander stage.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She averts her eyes like she always does when she’s lying.
“Sure, you don’t. But while you’re in denial, think about this: If you—or anyone on the wrong side of this war you’re waging, for that matter—fucks with what’s mine, the meanest, most dangerous motherfuckers you’ve encountered thus far will be like kittens compared to what I’ll do to you. If you’re smart, you’ll tuck tail now and move on with your life. Because if you don’t... you might not live to see another birthday.”
Peyton makes another loud screeching sound as her eyes fill with tears, but I’m not sure she’s actually forming words.
Jazz’s head peeks out of her bedroom. “Kingston?” Her eyes bounce between Peyton and me. “What’s going on?”
I incline my head in Jazz’s direction, but I’m still looking at my pathetic ex. “Now, for the real reason I came here. If you’ll excuse me.”
“I hate you!” Peyton screams, before slamming her door shut.
Jazz steps aside when I approach, to let me into her bedroom. “What the hell was that about?”
I shrug, shutting the door behind me, making sure I turn the lock. “That was me being unable to resist fucking with her.”
She shakes her head. “As amusing as that is, why are you still here, Kingston? I was just about to take a shower before heading to bed.”
“Perfect.” I back her into the bathroom, shucking my shirt along the way.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
I don’t miss the way Jazz’s eyes darken as she looks over my naked torso.
“I’m solving our problem.”
Jazz rolls her pretty brown eyes. “Not everything can be magically solved with sex.”
“Maybe not,” I agree, raising her arms so I can remove her shirt. “But with us... it seems like the most effective way to cut through the bullshit and communicate.”
I step out of my shoes and pants next, while Jazz does the same, clearly agreeing with my statement. I reach behind her and turn on the water, right before I lose my boxer briefs. Jazz licks her lips, eyeing my erection as it springs free. I shove her panties over her hips while she unclasps her bra and tosses it to the ground. I back her into the shower, directly under the spray, until she’s pressed against the tile.
Water drips off her inky lashes as I crowd her against the wall. “You don’t get to run from this, Jazz.” She gasps when I cup her pussy. “You don’t get to run from us.”
I watch her face as my fingers slip inside, while my thumb works her clit. There’s so much honesty in her expression—pure need—and I’m sure she can see the same reflected in mine.
“I wasn’t running,” she argues. “I just needed time to think.”
“What’s there to think about?” I pull her bottom lip with my teeth. “I. Fucking. Love. You.” I punctuate each word, thrusting my fingers in and out. “What’s so complicated about that?”
“It’s not.” Jazz gasps as I drop to my knees and start tonguing her pussy. “I...just...”
“You...” Lick. “Just...” Lick. “What?”
“I... just...” Her hands slam against the wall. “Fuck! Right there!”
I smile against her heated flesh, licking and sucking her into a frenzy. “You like that, baby?”
“God, yes,” Jazz groans.
I get her to the brink right before I stand. Without any prompting, Jazz jumps up and wraps her legs around my hips. At the same time, I thrust into her in one smooth motion. I pinch her clit between my fingers, and she’s instantly spasming all around me. Jazz digs her nails into my shoulders, chanting my name over and over. When she relaxes, I pick up the pace and continue toying with that bundle of nerves until she’s once again choking my dick with her tight cunt.
“Fuck.” I rest my forehead on Jazz’s shoulder, watching the spot where our bodies are joined.
“Kingston.” Jazz cups her hands over my jaw, lifting my gaze to hers.
I slowly work my cock inside of her, in no hurry to get to the finish line. “Yeah?”
She traces a finger over my eyebrow. Fuck, I don’t know why, but I love it when she does that. “I’m sorry I didn’t say it back.”
My lips curl upward. “Say what back?”
Her eyes lift to the ceiling. “Oh, God, you’re going to make me work for it, aren’t you?”
I thrust harder. “It seems like I’m the one doing all the work right now.”
I can’t help myself when Jazz’s chest juts forward, putting her pretty brown nipples on display. I seal my lips around one, sucking hard enough that I know I’ll leave a mark behind.
She holds me to her chest like she never wants me to stop. “God, that feels good.”
I release her with a pop and lift my head. “Let’s get back on topic. Now, what were you saying?”
Jazz’s chocolate eyes twinkle. “You’re a pain in the ass.”
I slide my hand between Jazz’s round cheeks, dipping lower to gather her arousal before pressing an index finger against her puckered hole. “I’d love to show you what a pain in the ass really feels like. Although, I promise the pain part won’t last long.”
Jazz squirms in my arms as I work the digit in, the water making our bodies extr
a slippery. “Fuck. If it feels even close to that good, I’ll let you do it in a heartbeat.”
I move the finger I have in her ass in tandem with my dick in her pussy. “Have I ever made anything not feel good when I’m inside of you?”
“Nope,” Jazz pants. “You’re definitely great at the sexing.”
I laugh. “Good to know. Now, you were saying?” My finger slides out of her ass, my palms cupping the firm globes as I stop moving entirely. “Jazz. Look at me.”
She cups my jaw again, leaning forward to kiss each one of my eyelids, then my cheeks. Our lips touch briefly before she pulls back and meets my gaze. “I love you, too, Kingston.”
I couldn’t fight the smile stretching across my face if I tried. “Yeah?”
Jazz nods. “Yeah.”
“Good.” I squeeze her ass cheeks. “Because if you didn’t, that would’ve been really fucking awkward.”
She laughs, which makes her pussy vibrate around me.
I groan. “No more talking. Let’s finish up here so we can go back to my place and do it again.”
“That sounds like an excellent plan.” Jazz winks.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
JAZZ
“Hello?”
“Hi, is this Jasmine Rivera?”
“It is,” I confirm. “But please, call me Jazz.”
“Hi, Jazz. My name is Misha. I’m the manager at Calabasas Coffee. Are you still interested in the barista job we have open?”
“I am,” I say excitedly. “Very much so.”
“Great. When can you come in for an interview?”
“I get out of school at two-thirty each day, so any time after then would be fine.”
“Perfect. How about three o’clock tomorrow afternoon?”
“Awesome. Thank you for the opportunity.”
“I look forward to meeting you, Jazz.”
I end the call and set my phone on the breakfast bar.
“Who was that?” Kingston slides a plate of scrambled eggs in front of me.
“The manager at Calabasas Coffee. I have an interview tomorrow at three.”
He frowns. “Why do you have a job interview? I didn’t even know you were applying for jobs.”
