“At Jamie’s wedding, I might have implied your heart wasn’t into meeting new people because he was holding you back,” her mother said defiantly.
“Mother.”
“It’s true.”
“You’re right, it was true,” Jiya said, holding on to her patience. “Believe me, he didn’t need extra reasons to keep me at arm’s length. Please don’t meddle like that ever again.”
“I don’t meddle,” her mother scoffed, cradling her forehead. “The Chauhans will never invest in the restaurant now, Jiya.”
“Yes, I know. I’m so sorry,” Jiya said, guilt sticking her in the side like a thorn. “I need you to know that I thought hard about letting the restaurant go. I didn’t take the chance for granted, but I would have been forcing myself to trade professional success for happiness. And it’s probably too much right now, on top of everything else. On top of the broken engagement. But you’re already disappointed in me, so I’m just going to get it out there.” She swallowed. “I wouldn’t be happy running a restaurant forever, mother. I love being at Spice because it’s something our family built and maintained. It makes me proud. I just don’t know if it’s mine. My life’s work. The accomplishment I’ll attach to my name.”
She looked at Jiya for long, tense moments. “Don’t tell me this is about the airplanes.”
Her tone opened a pit in Jiya’s stomach. “Andrew bought me the lessons, you know. He wasn’t going to tell me. I found out by chance.”
Again, there was a softening around her mother’s eyes. “There is such a thing as dreaming too much. Dreaming beyond what is possible,” she muttered. “That is what you are doing. And it already pains me knowing where it will leave you. Nowhere.”
That blow left Jiya unsteady on her feet. “Try and remember that you were once in my shoes, mother. Do you regret choosing my father, despite your parents’ expectations?”
Her mother let out a soft expulsion of breath.
“I’ll be in late this morning to the restaurant,” Jiya said. “I’ve already asked the other waitress to help with prep and setting up the dining room.”
As if she hadn’t heard, her mother left the room without looking back.
With her windpipe the size of a straw, Jiya picked up her tote bag and walked out the front door, closing it softly behind her. As soon as she stepped off the porch, she saw Andrew’s face in the kitchen window of his house. He gave her a lopsided smile and held up her cup of coffee—and she remembered that she hadn’t only made the best decision for her.
She’d made the only decision possible.
She’d fought for what she wanted and she wouldn’t stop now.
*
While Jiya had definitely missed her morning routine with the Prince brothers, it had been forever altered. Sure, there had always been a heaping dose of tension between herself and Andrew, but she couldn’t have sawed this new tension in half with a machete. As soon as she walked in the door, her nipples beaded at the sight of her man at the kitchen sink. No shirt, just a pair of black sweatpants and a royal blue, backwards hat.
Heaven help her, even the cuts and bruises on his face—as much as they enraged her—added an undeniable masculinity to Andrew that made her all too aware of the hem of her dress, where it brushed mid-thigh. She’d woven her hair up into a high bun and her exposed neck felt sensual, erotic. Especially when Andrew turned to hand her the cup of coffee and did a double take at her high beams.
“Sweetheart,” he said in a gravelly voice, setting down the coffees. “Why aren’t you dressed for work?”
“Are you complaining?”
“Fuck no.” His eyes took on a dark edge. “Are you wearing that to go see him—”
“No.” She held his gaze. “I’m wearing it for you.”
Wariness danced into Andrew’s expression, his chest started to heave. “Jiya…”
She filled her lungs. “I broke the engagement last night.”
His body stilled, gaze sharpening. “You…did what?”
“You heard what I said. I can’t marry someone else.” Her chin started to tremble, but she firmed it. “You exist. You exist, so I could never be happy with anyone else. I’d be with you right now, if you weren’t so stubborn.”
He lunged toward her and stopped short. “Hold on, I’m just…God, I want to tell you breaking the engagement was a mistake, but I can’t. I fucking can’t, because you are mine, sweetheart. I can’t be anything but relieved, even if it makes me a selfish bastard.” He paced away and came back. “Jesus. The restaurant, Jiya—”
“I’m gaining so much more with you than I could ever give up,” she whispered.
He reached a hand toward her, curling his fingers into a fist before he could touch her. “Your happiness is what gets me up in the morning. Every day of my life. So I’ll ask you one more time. Are you sure?” He paused, the vibration of his tone lingering in the air between them. “I haven’t really looked for a way out yet with Handler. Not hard enough, anyway. Maybe because…I thought there was so much more than that keeping us apart. What I did. It’s always been there, telling me I can’t have you.”
“You already had me. You’ve had me forever.” Jiya watched her words sink in, watched hope bloom in his face. Her heart sang in response, but she kept her features schooled. “Now that we’ve straightened that out, there are some things I need to do around the house this morning. I know it’s a beach day for you, but—”
“Be quiet, Jiya,” he rasped, coming closer. So much closer. Keeping his hands at his sides, Andrew buried his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling roughly against her ear. “Christ. Christ, I didn’t deserve you doing that, but I’ve been a walking dead man since I found out. You just brought me back to life.”
Her cheek nuzzled his jaw. “That’s how I felt when I found out you bought my flying lessons.” She smoothed her hands up his chest and listened to him groan. “I knew you’d been full of shit all along.”
“So full of shit, sweetheart.”
“You wanted me. For keeps.”
“Forever. Past forever.”
She bit his ear hard. “I can think of a few ways to torture you for keeping your feelings from me. If you can get the morning off.”
“Torture—” A violent shudder wracked his strong body. “No, we can’t, Jiya. I’m not touching you until I’ve got a clear path forward. Until I can walk it with you. I’m not taking you to bed again until I’m sure I can make you my wife, Jiya. I’m not backing down on that. You’re not some hookup. I have no excuse for what we did in my bed. It was so goddamn perfect, but it was the wrong time.”
“It should have been on our wedding night?”
He growled into her hair. “Yes.”
“Get the morning off. Come find me.” Jiya pulled back and blinked up at him innocently, though she felt anything but. “Maybe I won’t let you touch.”
“Jesus.” Andrew’s breath came out hot against her forehead. “How am I going to make breakfast in this condition. Look what you did to me.”
They both dropped their attention to his erection where it pushed up and out of the waistband of his sweatpants. “I see,” she whispered, moisture slicking between her thighs. “You’re going to leave it hard. That’s how I want it.”
Looking pained, but turned on like nobody’s business, he nodded. “Okay.”
There was an exchange of banter at the top of the stairs and footsteps heading in both directions from the bathroom. Jamie, Marcus, Rory, Olive. In a matter of minutes, they’d be piling down the stairs looking for breakfast. Jiya rose on her tip toes and rubbed her lips against Andrew’s ear. “Get the morning off.”
His eyes were hot as they broke apart and took their usual places at the counter. Jiya grating ginger and Andrew taking the lentils out of the pressure cooker where they had been soaking. At one point, he went to his bedroom and came back with a shirt on to cover the situation in his pants, poking her in the ribs when she smirked. “I fucking missed you.”
“I’ll do whatever it takes to have you, Jiya.”
“I know.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Going to Jiya’s house was a bad idea.
Her parents were at Spice, meaning they would be alone. His erection still hadn’t subsided, not since hearing the word torture in her breathy, beautiful voice. And he had a pretty good idea that Jiya found his no sex vow ridiculous and was in no way committed to helping him keep it. So he really shouldn’t have asked Jamie to run point at the lifeguard hut that morning. He really shouldn’t have showered and put on aftershave.
But here he was. Standing at her door with a hard cock and his tongue practically hanging out of his mouth. What he wouldn’t give for the freedom to plant one on her the second she opened this door. He’d do it right with Jiya this time around, though. She deserved a man who could keep it in his pants for one afternoon.
Andrew had almost started believing that was possible when she opened the door, still wearing that dress from breakfast. Except she’d made a few not so minor alterations.
He stepped over the threshold. “You lose your bra somewhere?”
“My what?” She patted down the bodice of her dress. “Oh my bra.” She shrugged a sexy shoulder. “I can’t seem to keep track of that slippery thing.”
“God. Don’t say slippery.”
A laugh bubbled out of her. “Is there a list of words I should avoid today?” She numbered them off on her fingers. “Thick. Hard. Dripping…”
“Tight. Wet.” His gaze ticked down to the juncture of her thighs. “Smooth.”
Her cheeks darkened. “We’ve come a long way from dick jokes.”
“Isn’t that the truth?” He tore his lusty attention off her and scanned the entryway and the parts of the house he could see from his position. Eagerness licked at his veins at the chance to do something for her. His favorite pastime was being given a job to complete from this girl. Doing it, pleasing her, making her smile. Hell, if she’d invited him over just to torture him sexually, he’d let her. Whatever she needed. But he hoped like hell she’d make him work. Working for her pleasure fulfilled him in a way nothing else did. “You said you need some things done around the house?”
“Yes.” She hedged. “You’re not hurt anywhere besides your face, are you? No sore muscles or anything?”
“No, sweetheart,” he assured her quietly.
“Oh good,” she breathed, her throat working. “My father wants the stone plantar fixed around the tree in the backyard. It’s kind of lost its structure over the years, with all the rain and snow. Having it organized would make him happy—”
“And that will make you happy. Done.”
Her color deepened. “I was thinking we could stack them up again.”
Anticipation lowered the pitch of his voice. “I’ll stack them up again.”
“I don’t mind helping.”
“I don’t mind that, either, but…” The foyer seemed to lock up around Andrew and Jiya, push them closer together. “Don’t punch me in the face for this, but I’d love you to sit somewhere—where I can see you—while I handle what you need done.”
Her lack of bra gave him an up close view of her nipples turning into little points. “Why do you love doing things for me?”
“Because I love you.” They both look a long breath. “But it’s even more than that. Something you own. In here.” He patted his abdomen. “You asked me to put sunscreen on your beautiful back at the community pool when you were a freshman. I was a sophomore. You remember that? I can still feel that…twist inside me. I wanted doing anything you asked to be my purpose. Even when I’m working hard in the bar or on the beach, it’s for Jiya.”
“I admire you,” she whispered, expression dreamy. “I have pride in you.”
He had to clench his hands into fists to keep from reaching for her.
“The way you put me in charge when we touch gives me courage. I don’t know, I—if it had this particular effect because I flew for the first time soon after, but…”
Lord, the expression of wonder on her face almost dropped him to his knees. “What?”
She opened her mouth and closed it. “I can do anything. It’s been this way all along and now that certainty has been knocked loose and…I want you. I want to fly. And I will have both.”
Hearing her claim possession of him, witnessing her confidence made his heart swell in his throat. “Tell me you love me, Jiya. I never want to stop hearing it.”
“I love you.”
Happiness had taken root in his chest the first time she said those words in his dining room. Now it spread its branches. “Good. Then make me work for you. That’s why you brought me over here, isn’t it? To make me sweat for a glimpse of your tits without a bra?”
“Yes,” she gasped.
“Then we’re on the same page, sweetheart.” He took a step in her direction and leaned down, taking a long inhale of her neck. “I’ll be in the backyard. Look pretty for me.”
It physically hurt to walk with his cock so hard, but he made his way to the yard, standing over the haphazard stones for a few moments to come up with a game plan. The morning sun was beating down and Andrew stripped off his shirt in deference to the heat around the same time Jiya joined him outside. She sat down slowly on the back step and leaned back, lifting her face to the sun with closed eyes. The position stretched the dress over her breasts, and if he wasn’t mistaken, she’d opened more buttons since they’d spoken inside. Her cleavage was pushed up into two separated curves in the V of her neckline, so delicious they were more responsible for his sweat than the sunshine.
“Christ,” he rasped, turning around his hat so the brim cast a shadow over his face. He did his best to focus on the job, but she was a golden brown treasure in the sun and he wanted to bury his dick between her thighs more than his next breath. To distract himself, he worked with determined focus, stacking stones, finding ways to fit them together so they would remain upright and not topple over. Kind of like his self-control. And every time he looked over at Jiya, which was often, another one of those buttons had slipped free.
He swiped a hand across his open mouth, battling the need to mosey over and get a closer look at the skin she was putting on display for him. But he loved this, too. Toiling in the sun for her satisfaction. Being her work horse made his balls feel heavy, made his mouth dry up. What an honor it would be to become the man who gratified her in every way imaginable. To know exactly how and when she needed sex. To anticipate her needs outside of bed, too. To be the reason she never went unsatisfied for fucking or food or rest. To complete any and all menial jobs that needed doing. I’ll do them. Hell, he’d get off on doing them. Because they made her rely on him and Andrew wanted that trust. Wanted to be the man she depended on. Wanted Jiya to know she had him wrapped around her little pinky finger and exploit that fact.
Just thinking about her trailing a finger up and down his bare chest and asking for something, anything, made him desperate to reach into his shorts and beat off into the dirt. She was watching him now, relaxing as he took care of business and fuck, God help him, he loved that. He knew Jiya wasn’t the kind of woman who would be happy depending on a man for everything—and because it wouldn’t make her happy, it wasn’t what he wanted either. No, it was the sparing nature of her requests that made him even hotter. In between those times she asked him for things, the anticipation built and left him as he was now.
Hot and horny and prideful.
“Are you thirsty?” she asked him, her husky voice floating across the yard. “Do you want a Diet Coke? Or a beer?”
“Better stick with soda.” Impairing his senses would be a huge mistake with her looking so inviting and his hunger cranked to the highest setting. “Thanks.”
With an effort, Andrew went back to work, having nearly completed half of the stone circle. But his concentration snapped in two when Jiya returned with the damn dress unbuttoned halfway to her wa
ist. Without the benefit of a bra, he could catch little hints of her nipples every time she took a step and they swayed around in the open neckline. “It already looks a million times better,” she said, handing him the cold can. “If you want to take a break inside where there’s air conditioning, there are some things I need done in my bedroom.”
She turned on her bare foot and strutted back toward the house, disappearing through the back door with a sexy swish of ass.
Don’t you dare follow her, asshole.
With determination he didn’t know he possessed, Andrew continued working on the plantar—for a whopping two minutes. But try as he might, there was no way to continue assembling the stones when he knew she was inside waiting for him. Wanting his presence. It was like denying the most basic part of himself. Go to her. Do what she needs.
In the end, God himself couldn’t have stopped Andrew from following her inside, although he was determined not to break the promise he’d made. No touching.
He’d soon regret making that vow more than he could have imagined.
*
Jiya’s shameless behavior was all Andrew’s fault.
She’d invited him over because she needed to be around him. Needed to spend time with this man she’d seen far too little of lately. And yes, she’d wanted to explore this dynamic they’d unearthed on the beach and furthered that night in his bedroom. Something had sparked inside her. Something wicked. Not exactly a dominant side. More like an ultra-feminine second skin that melted over her like hot wax and never hardened.
Andrew liked her sitting pretty and watching him work.
He liked being told what to do in bed.
This man who she’d always assumed did things for her to be nice, because they were friends…it actually pleased him to be her servant. He loved doing for her. Loved her taking the liberty of telling him what she wanted. Of him. From him.
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