by Laura Lee
“If it helps any, Jasmine’s mom may have been friends with my mom,” I offer. “There’s this picture I found in an old album.”
“Can you scan that and send it to me?”
I nod, then remember he can't see me, so I say, "I'll do it as soon as we hang up."
“Good. I’ll see what I can come up with.”
I start walking toward my closet to retrieve the photo album. “Are you looking for something specific?”
"I don't quite know yet," he says. "But I think there may be another angle we haven't explored. And if that's the case, Jasmine may be in even more danger."
“Fuck.”
"We'll figure this out, Kingston," he assures me. "Send me that picture, and I'll get back to you ASAP."
I hang up the call, forward the photo to John, and delete the text thread. I can't just sit on my ass, waiting for him to get back to me, so I grab my keys and head out for a drive.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
JAZZ
"What are you doing here?" I frown. "Please don't kill my vibe right now. I actually had a fantastic day, which rarely happens unless I'm with my sister."
Kingston was waiting in my driveway as Ainsley dropped me off. She drove off, mouthing, "Good luck" before I had a chance to stop her. I swear to God that if Kingston tries reaming me for going to South Central with Ains, I’m going to punch him in the throat.
“I’m so glad you and Shawn had such a fantastic time.”
I roll my eyes. “Seriously? You’re pulling the jealous boyfriend shit right now? Newsflash, Kingston: You’re not my boyfriend. I said I’d think about it.”
Ugh, I knew this was going to happen when Ainsley kept posting on Insta. She denied it, but I’m pretty sure she was trying to piss her brother off.
“Who is he?”
I look Kingston dead in the eye. “A friend.”
His nostrils flare. “A friend you’ve fucked.”
My eyes narrow. “Why does it matter?”
“Because it fucking does,” he growls.
“I am not having this conversation in my driveway.”
Kingston flips open the passenger door of his car. “Get in.”
I scoff. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
His eyes slide to the passenger seat, then back up to me.
“Yeah, not gonna happen.” I fold my arms over my chest.
Kingston’s eyes flash with rage doused in a side of lust. “Jazz, get in the car before I fucking throw you in the car.”
“I’d like to see you try.” I’m pretty sure my expression matches his.
My toes curl from the sheer alphaness on display, but Kingston should know by now I don’t appreciate being bossed around.
I squeal when Kingston's arms band around me, and he effortlessly lifts me off the ground. "Put me down, you ass!"
He tries setting me in the car, but I give him a good fight. I know damn well we're making enough of a ruckus to be heard inside the house, but I wouldn't be surprised if Charles was looking out the window, enjoying the fact that I'm being manhandled.
Kingston’s teeth clamp down on the fleshy part of my shoulder, giving him the element of surprise he needs to get me in the car. The locks immediately engage as I sit there in shock, holding the sore spot.
I lay into him the second he gets behind the wheel. “Did you just bite me?”
This bastard actually has the nerve to smirk. “You were trying to knee me in the balls. What was I supposed to do? Think of it as self-defense.”
My head slams back into the seat. “So, what? You’re going to abduct me now?”
He starts the ignition and shifts into gear. “Buckle up, babe.”
I’d like to keep my head attached to my body if we got into an accident, so I begrudgingly comply. “You’re wasting your time. I’ll just have Ainsley take me home, or I’ll walk.”
He glances at me as he turns left out of my driveway, the opposite direction of his house.
“That’s why we’re not going to my house.” He winks.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake!”
Kingston belts out a laugh as I release a string of curses.
“I’m glad I can be so amusing.” I flip him the bird. “Are you at least going to tell me where we’re going?”
He pulls through the gates that seal off this housing community from the main road and hooks a right. “Bentley’s. Reed’s there, too. Bent’s parents are on safari in Namibia or some shit like that, so we have the place to ourselves.”
“And why do I need to crash your little bromance party?”
Kingston waggles his eyebrows suggestively. “You’ll see.”
Crap, why did my mind automatically go to dirty places?
“Kingston, will you be serious?”
"We need to talk." Kingston's tongue sneaks out to wet his lips, which I'm totally unaffected by. Yeah, right. I can’t even convince myself.
“About what?”
"It's a lot easier if we're all together, so I don't have to repeat myself."
“Oh, c’mon, you can’t leave me hanging like that.”
His lips turn up in the corner. “Patience, Jazz. We’re almost there.”
I drill holes into the side of his stupidly sexy jaw. “You’re the last person who should be lecturing someone on patience.”
Kingston pulls up to the gate of another community and punches in a code. I'm sure the residents aren't supposed to openly share their access codes, but the fact that Kingston has one doesn't surprise me.
I've never been to Bentley's house before, so my eyes wander as we drive through his neighborhood. It's dark, and most of the homes are set further back from the road, so I mostly see shrubbery or expansive lawns, which is similar to the area Kingston and I live in. Kingston's car ambles down a long driveway before parking in front of a giant Spanish-style mansion. Kingston opens the heavy wooden doors like he owns the place, so I follow him until we stop in what appears to be the living room.
I shake my head as I look around, wondering if I’ll ever get used to the fact that my friends live in houses like this. Hell, or the fact that I live in a house like this. I’m not even touching the fact that the front door was left unlocked. I don’t care how safe your neighborhood supposedly is; that shit’s just stupid.
“Bent!” Kingston shouts. “Where’re you at?”
“Game room!” Bentley shouts back.
Kingston inclines his head toward the staircase to our right, so I take the hint and walk in that direction. Once we get to the second level, he directs me down a hallway until we reach an open door. I peek inside and see Bentley and Reed playing some special ops game in front of the largest television I've ever seen.
Bentley smiles when he sees me. “Jazzy Jazz!” He tosses the Xbox controller on the table in front of him, walks toward me, and pulls me into a hug. “You look good in my house, baby girl. You should come over more often, but next time, ditch the caveman.”
I chuckle, trying not to be too obvious that I’m sniffing his yummy cologne. “Hi, Bent.”
“Very funny, asshole,” Kingston mutters as he pulls me out of Bentley’s grasp.
Bentley gives Kingston a whatever look and busies himself at the corner minibar. “What’s your poison, Jazz? I have vodka, whiskey, tequila, beer, ganja—”
I hold my hand up to stop his ramble. “Just water is fine.”
“Bor-ing,” Bentley singsongs as he tosses a bottle of water in my direction. “Davenport?”
“Macallan.” Kingston’s eyes meet mine. “You sure you don’t want something stronger?”
“I’m positive,” I deadpan. Drinking alcohol around these boys always seems to lead to trouble.
Kingston accepts the drink from Bentley and downs it in one go. He holds the glass out for a refill and does it again. Meanwhile, Bentley is gulping down at least three fingers of scotch from his own glass. Yikes, it’s tense in here. It looks like it’s up to me to inject some levity into the situation.
“Whoa there, boys.” I poke Kingston’s shoulder. “Looking to get wasted so you can have your wicked way with each other?”
Bentley laughs. “Princess, if Davenport here wants to suck my cock, no need for the liquor. He just needs to tell me I’m pretty, and I’ll happily whip it out for him.”
Kingston scoffs. “Fuck you, Fitzgerald. If anyone is going to have a dick in their mouth in this situation, it’d be you.”
Bentley blows him a kiss, which earns him a middle finger salute.
I’m laughing as I notice Reed shaking his head, muttering, “Idiots.”
Kingston steps forward and gently grabs my arm. “Let me see it.”
It takes me a moment to figure out what he’s talking about. “It’s all covered up.” I nod to the plastic that’s taped over my new tattoo like some weird band-aid.
“So, take it off.” With the way Kingston is looking at me right now, I’m not so sure he’s talking about plastic wrap.
“I’m supposed to wash it and put some ointment on when I take the plastic off.” Geez, could I sound any lamer? Like he gives a flying fuck about my aftercare instructions.
“We’ll be right back,” Kingston says to the guys as he leads me across the hall to a bathroom.
Rather than embarrass myself again, I busy myself unwrapping the bandage and washing the tattoo with soap and water. Kingston comes up behind me as I'm pulling the sample tube of A&D out of my pocket, and I can see his smirk in the mirror when I shiver from the proximity. God, I hate it that I have no game around him. He turns me into this mindless bitch in heat by merely existing. I can't stop thinking about what happened after Peyton's party and how badly I want to do it again.
Kingston watches over my shoulder as I pat my arm dry and start spreading the ointment over my fresh ink. As soon as I’m done, he takes my hand and lifts my arm to get a closer look. His finger lightly traces around the design, careful not to touch the tattoo.
"That's jasmine, isn't it?"
“It is.” Not gonna lie; I’m impressed he knew that. “They were my mom’s favorite. She used to call me her sweet flower.”
My eyes get watery like they usually do whenever I recall a happy memory involving my mom. I hope one day I can think of her and smile, but right now, all those memories do is remind me I'll never have those experiences again. I'll never again hear my mom say a single word, let alone use her favorite term of endearment. God, I miss her so much, I physically ache. I briefly squeeze my eyes shut to force the tears back.
Kingston's still trailing his finger down my arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake. "It's perfect."
My lips curve in a soft smile. “That’s exactly what Ainsley said.”
I never bought into the theory that twins' brains are linked together until I met Kingston and Ainsley. As different as their personalities are, they have this uncanny ability to know what the other one is thinking. Ainsley once told me she can even sense when her brother is hurt or really upset. Their bond isn't something that can be explained by science, but they've made me a firm believer.
Kingston returns my grin in the mirror. “That’s because she’s smart. Obviously, my intelligence rubbed off on her in the womb.”
“How do you know it’s not the other way around?”
"Uh, because I'm older and bigger. I even have a picture somewhere that proves it. My umbilical cord was twice as thick as hers, which means I got more nutrients in utero."
I chuckle. “Why am I not surprised you sucked at sharing, even back then?”
The amusement fades from Kingston’s greenish-gold eyes as his fingers curl over my shoulders. “That’s a recent development. Never really cared about anything enough to feel possessive before.”
My eyes search his. “Why do I get the feeling we’re not talking about toys?”
“Because we’re not,” he says matter-of-factly.
He steps back slightly so I can turn around. “Kingston—”
“Jazz.”
My breath hitches when his hands bracket my hips, and he lowers his head. "Don't you...didn't you say you had to talk to me about something?"
Kingston nods. “I did.”
“So...” His hands flex, the tips of his fingers kneading into the globes of my ass. “Shouldn’t we, uh, do that? Talk, I mean?”
I can smell the whiskey on his breath as Kingston’s lips hover above mine. God, it’d be so easy to close the gap. “Yeah, we should.”
“If you’re about to bitch me out for something, you can save it.” Crap, why did that sound so breathy when I was going for stern?
“I’m not going to bitch you out, Jazz.”
Well, that’s a surprise.
“Really?” I’m sure the skepticism shows on my face. “You’re not going to read me the riot act for going to such a dangerous place at night with your sister in tow?”
Kingston’s head slowly slices to the left and then the right. “You know what you’re doing down there, and I trust that you wouldn’t put Ainsley in a compromising position.”
“Huh.” I blink a few times, not quite sure what to say. “So, are you gonna tell me what’s going on then, or stand there staring at me all night?
Kingston’s eyes meet mine. “Staring at you all night doesn’t sound like a bad way to pass the time, but I do have some new information to share. You know, in the interest of full disclosure.”
I pop an eyebrow. “Didn’t you say you wanted the guys to hear, too?”
“I did. But I need to do something else first.”
I bite my lip. “Okay, wha—”
My thoughts scramble when Kingston presses his lips to mine. The kiss is gentle at first, nothing like our usual frantic pairing. He takes his time, exploring my lips before demanding entry. Kingston groans as I slide my tongue into his mouth, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him closer.
Why is kissing this man such a full-body experience? All of my senses are on high alert. My panties are embarrassingly wet already. My heart beats wildly as Kingston’s mouth moves along the column of my neck. He stretches the cotton of my t-shirt, nibbling and biting a path to my newly bared shoulder. I don’t utter a single complaint as Kingston lifts my shirt over my head, tossing it to the floor.
He drops his head to my shoulder, groaning as I rub his erection through his pants. “Fuck, Jazz. I’m trying not to be a selfish prick, but I need you so fucking bad. I need to feel something good in the middle of all this fucked up shit.”
I know the feeling. Sex with Kingston is the only thing that gives me relief from the deafening noise running rampant through my head, at least temporarily. Instead of verbalizing that, I decide actions are louder than words. I pop the button on his jeans and slide the zipper down. My hand slips beneath his boxer briefs, wrapping around his cock and pumping up and down a few times. Kingston subconsciously juts his hips forward as my thumb swipes through the precum leaking from the tip.
I gasp when his thumbs brush over my nipples through my lacy bra. I moan as his tongue swirls around the pointed tips. I brace my hands on the counter and lean back, allowing Kingston better access as his mouth ventures south.
“Kiss me,” I pant.
He sucks on the skin right below my belly button, making my pussy throb. “I am kissing you.”
"Fuck." I throw my head back as he undoes my jeans and licks right above my panties' top seam.
“I’m about two seconds away from pulling my dick out and joining the party.”
I scream at the sound of Bentley’s deep voice. “Holyshitballfuck!”
Kingston instantly shields me with his body, so I have to peek over his shoulder to see Bentley. "What the fuck, man? Ever hear of a thing called privacy?"
Bentley scoffs. “First of all, you left the goddamn door open. Again. And we could easily hear you because you’re right across the hall. Secondly, I’m beginning to think one or both of you has some kind of freaky bathroom fetish. Third, it’s my fucking house.” He meets my eyes and shoots me a
cheeky wink. “Hot bra, Jazz. I especially like the see-through feature.”
I blush as Kingston growls under his breath. A muscle jumps in Kingston’s jaw as he and Bentley stare each other down. There’s too much damn testosterone in this small space. It’s giving me all sorts of ideas I have no business thinking. Like, you know, inviting Bentley in and telling him to lock the door behind him.
“Leave, Bent,” Kingston grits out. “We’ll be there in a minute.”
Bentley’s eyes travel back to mine. “Is that what you want, Jazz?”
“Uh...” My face is probably twice as red now. Why is it so damn hot all of a sudden?
Bentley grins. "I don't know, man, it seems like our girl here might want me to stick around." He's talking to Kingston, but his gaze is still locked on me.
Kingston steps forward and slams his hand into Bentley’s chest, shoving him backward. “Fuck off, Fitzgerald.”
“Ditto, asshole,” Bentley spits out.
Jesus, this needs to stop. I hate knowing I’m the cause of this rift between them.
I bend down to pick up my shirt and quickly pull it over my head. “Look, no need to hang out in here anymore.”
Bentley spins around and stomps into the game room.
Kingston’s nostrils flare as he scowls. “You’re not fucking helping the situation, you know. What am I supposed to do when you act like you wanted him to stay?”
I yank the zipper up and button my jeans. “Who said I was acting?”
Damn it. Did I really say that out loud?
His lips thin as he scans my face for something. “Just fucking forget it. Let’s get this over with.”
Kingston leaves the bathroom with me trailing behind. When we return to the game room, it's as if the air got sucked out of the room. There’s so much tension between Kingston and Bentley, it’s putting me on edge.
Bentley grabs the glass pipe in front of him and lights up the bowl. After taking a huge hit, he says, “Let’s fucking get this over with. Shall we? I’m sure Kingston is anxious to get his dick wet.”
I cringe as Kingston drops onto the opposite end of the couch, leveling his friend with a vicious glare. I purposely take the seat next to Reed, which happens to be across the room from the other two. I don’t know what Kingston has to share with us, but one thing’s for sure, this conversation is going to be super awesome.
