I tugged on his hand, needing to grab my backpack and my bag with my clothes in it. He stopped and turned to me.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Nothing. I just have to get my bags,” I answered with a knowing smile on my face. Zane smirked at me and he loosened his grip on my hand.
“Where are they? I’ll grab them. You head down to the car,” he held out his hand and finished, “give me the keys to lock up.”
“They are on my bed. And here…” I handed my apartment keys to him. It seemed like he had his ways to get my keys whenever he wanted. However, this time, I got the keys to the Chevelle. At that point I needed to get control over my body again. A little space before being confined to a car with him would do us both some good.
Zane’s car was sexy as fuck, even if it wasn’t very good for the environment. Really, I was kidding myself with my Prius. My car was about the only thing I tried to be eco-friendly with. I wasn’t a vegan like most of the people in LA. Meat was something I couldn’t live without. I tried, but at least I recycled. That’s what I told myself anyway. Inside, the Chevelle was pure black from the dashboard to the bench seats that still smelled like genuine Italian leather. I started the beast up and listened to it roar to life. Then I almost went deaf since Zane had the music up so damn high, I mistakenly thought I was at a Def Leppard concert.
Zane always had a thing for classic rock. I always had an eclectic taste in music. One day I could listen to the great divas of our lifetime like Celine, Mariah, and Whitney. The next, I could have Alanis Morissette’s “You Oughta Know” on repeat or Trisha Yearwood on loop. I was more of a mood music girl. And the mood I was in right now was sex. So I synced my phone to Zane’s Bluetooth and took over control of his stereo.
Just as he got in and threw my bags in his back seat, Ginuwine’s “Pony” started. He slammed his door harder than I’d expected, since he adored this car, and looked at me with murderous lust in his beautiful green eyes.
“If you think for one second I don’t know what you are up to, Josselyn, you are very, very mistaken. And when we get home, you’ll pay for this,” he deadpanned.
Zane was worked up and I was pressing his buttons in more ways than one.
I couldn’t wait to see what compensation I’d have to give when we got to his place. Whatever it would turn out to be, I knew that without a doubt, I’d pay up.
It would probably ruin me again but I didn’t care anymore.
The pain in the end would be worth all the pleasure of the here and now.
I mean, I always heard that pleasure is born of pain anyway.
CHAPTER 14
Dream Kitchens Not Booty Calls.
Mac
THE DRIVE TO my place was full of sexual tension and my dick felt like it was going to explode. Josselyn was playing with a fire I had no intentions of putting out, and she was going to burn in the most beautiful way. Just having her next to me, knowing what the promise of her was, remembering her mouth on mine, made me feel like I needed to do everything in my power to keep her close. Joss had her reservations but I was working toward breaking through them all. We’d progressed quicker than I ever thought and I knew, looking over at her profile and seeing the small smile grace her lips, I was one of the luckiest bastards on this fucking planet.
As I pulled into my driveway, I wondered to myself if this was a smart idea. My nerves were ratcheting up to scary levels, but I wanted Joss to see there was never a time when she wasn’t the one I thought of. Not even when I was married did a day go by that the vision of Joss didn’t pop into my mind. It was a shit thing to do to Bibi, and an even shittier thing that I married her in the first place. But I digress.
Most of the time, Hermosa Beach homes were a bit modern and over-the-top, but not mine. When I renovated the house that was here before, I knew I wanted a Spanish-style vibe with a beach view. It took a ton of work and money, but in the end the beige stucco exterior, with black metal wrought-iron details around the balconies and windows, became the dream home. This property was a steal to be situated on a corner lot and included a backyard so I can’t say I wasn’t proud of this place. Pride is not something I lack; yet I had never been so damn scared to bring someone here. Plus, I am not sure how she is going to respond.
With a deep breath, I turned off the car and told Joss I’d get her door for her and to stay put. Thankfully she didn’t argue or give me a smart-ass reply. I’d like to show a modicum of gentlemanliness since my dick was urging me to take her on the hood of my car. Which, will happen without a doubt. Maybe even with that damn Alanis song playing just to prove I am, in fact, invited into her warm, tight, wet…
“Earth to Zane,” Josselyn brought me out of my sexy little fantasy and back into the moment.
“Sorry,” was all I said in response and moved. Once I’d grabbed her bags, I escorted her into my home, resting my hand along her lower back, craving any kind of contact with her. Between the make-out session in her kitchen, the damn sex playlist she tortured me with on the ride here, and where my mind just drifted, I couldn’t seem to focus on anything else.
But first dinner.
Be a fucking gentleman, dickhead. You asked her over here for dinner and to trust you. Pushing her up against the door and fucking her senseless is not going to accomplish either.
I unlocked and opened the door for Joss and motioned for her to proceed. I stood back just enough to gauge her reaction to my home. The door we entered from off the driveway led into my kitchen. As I watched Josselyn move around my space, she ran her fingers along my granite countertop island that consisted of gray swirls under a glossy sheen, situated on top of the whitewashed wood I picked out to match the rest of the cabinetry and stainless steel appliances. Joss made her way over to the window that looked out in the direction of the beach, and just stared. I took that moment as my cue to go to her.
I wound my arms around her waist from behind and rested my chin on her shoulder. Without a fight, Josselyn embraced me back the best she could and shocked the shit out of me.
“Mac.” It was a breathy whisper again. My dick was instantly on high alert and my pants got tighter than I had ever felt them before.
“Do you like it?” I asked her.
“This is exactly what I used to dream about. Down to the red accents in the backsplash and the view of the beach. I’ll never forget the night when we stayed up and talked about our dream homes. I told you ever last detail of the dream kitchen I would want. And now, I am standing in the middle of that kitchen. Zane, you recreated everything down to every last detail. How in the world did you remember?” Joss turned, wrapped her arms around my neck, and I stared down into her beautiful eyes.
“There isn’t a word you’ve spoken to me over the years that I don’t remember,” was my reply. Josselyn’s eyes got soft and I knew I scored big time.
“But why?”
Still staring into her eyes I told her, “Because, Josselyn. It’s always been you. One day soon, when the time is right, I’m going to move you in here. Giving you everything has always been what I was good at. You have wanted this kitchen since you were a teenager. I decided you’d have it, but you’d have it with me.”
“God, Zane. You gave me everything but then you snatched it away. I never thought I would survive what you did to me. Then you showed up at my radio show, all broody and sexy, and snaked your way back in to my life. Little by little you are hammering away at my brick fortress, but I need you to know that the kitchen isn’t the only thing I have wanted since I was a teenager.” My heart is beating fast because I know where I want this to go but am still so unsure of Joss.
I cup her cheeks in my hands and lower my mouth to hers. Lightly, I brush my lips over hers; just enough to acknowledge I heard what she was saying and whispered, “Josselyn.”
“If we do this, promise me you won’t walk away again without talking to me,” Joss begs me with her eyes and words.
“Baby, I can promise you, the only way I
will ever walk away from you again will be if someone is forcibly removing me.”
“Kiss me, Mac.”
Fuck. Those three words completely undo me.
My mouth crashes down on hers with a hunger I have never felt. My tongue swept out and instantly, she opened for me, allowing it to dance along hers, sucking and devouring. Joss let out a whimper and my control snapped. I moved my hands to her ass and lifted. Josselyn’s legs automatically wrapped around my waist and I carried her over to the farm-style table where I set her down. My dick was going to hate me for this but I didn’t—no I couldn’t—fuck this up with her. It was unfathomable how much I wanted her, I just wasn’t sure she was ready for this step.
Once I had her, she was mine.
There would be no taking it back, no way I’d come out the other side if she was the one who walked away.
“Josselyn, while I’d love nothing more than to take you on this table, I didn’t bring you here to fuck you. I just want to spend time with you. Maybe hold you after I cook dinner. It’s a big step and I won’t let myself have you unless we are solid and any doubts you have about me are gone.”
“Are you seriously turning down sex?” Joss asked me incredulously.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but yes, I am. Again, it’s not that I don’t want you. In fact, I am pretty fucking sure my dick will have a permanent zipper indentation from straining against it every time we are sharing the same airspace. There’s no rush. Like I said, I want you to have absolutely zero doubts when it comes to us.”
“So, let me get this straight. You brought me here to show me the kitchen I dreamed up as a teenager, which you just happened to make into your kitchen, that totally took my breath away you even remembered it, and you won’t allow me to show my appreciation in sexual gratitude?” Joss’s eyebrows raised and she seemed extremely confused. It was quite adorable, really.
“That about sums it up.” I kissed her nose and she smirked. “Now, how about I make dinner and then we watch a movie or binge something on Netflix?”
“All right. But, Zane? Is there going to be kissing? Because I kind of dig making out with you.”
“Yeah, baby. There’ll be kissing,” I answered. There most definitely would be kissing. Without a shadow of a doubt, I know my lips would need hers and who was I to deny them?
_______________
There was an annoyingly loud noise blaring from somewhere in my living room. It sounded like my cell but in the fog of sleep, I had no idea where I’d left it and I didn’t recognize that ringtone. Half asleep, I realized Joss was wrapped around me and we were on the couch, precisely where we settled in to binge a show called Stranger Things. It wasn’t my thing, but Josselyn seemed very excited to watch. Plus side was, she kissed me frequently throughout.
After I made the decision to slow things down in the kitchen, I got down to making our spaghetti dinner. It wasn’t anything fancy, but I was never really a good cook so it would have to do. Besides, Joss wasn’t the type of woman to demand anything fancy so it all worked out. Dishes loaded in the dishwasher, I showed Josselyn the rest of my house. She made little comments as we entered each room that told me she was impressed, but nothing matched her reaction to the kitchen, not that I thought it would. Her second favorite room seemed to be my office. Joss said it was sexy to see a man like me had a library since she loved to read. Wasn’t sure what ‘a man like me’ meant but I let it go and we got comfortable on the couch.
Trying not to wake her, I maneuvered her arms off my stomach and slid out from under her to try to find the source of what woke me up. As I followed the noise, I found that it was coming from Joss’s backpack that she had left in the kitchen when she had asked to see the rest of my pad.
It stopped playing what I had realized was a clip of a song talking about licking it before they kicked it. Then it started up again. Maybe I shouldn’t have gone into her bag to get it, but two things were running through my mind. First, who the fuck was calling my girl? Second, why this song for this person calling my girl? As I held her phone, I saw the name Jackson flashing across the screen and it took everything in me to not crush it.
Who the fuck was Jackson? Did she work with this clown or was he someone in her life who meant something to her?
At that moment, I knew I needed to calm down. It was three in the morning and Jackson was calling my Josselyn.
“Mine,” I growled.
“What’s yours?” Josselyn scared the shit out of me by asking.
“Who’s Jackson?”
“What?” she asked, seeming confused. Or maybe she was just shaking off sleep.
“Jackson. Who is he? Particularly, who is he to you and why is ‘Lick It’ his ringtone?” I knew I sounded angry. But pissed wasn’t even close.
“You answered my phone? Why would you do that?”
“Answer my fucking questions, Josselyn. As for yours, no. I didn’t answer your phone. It woke me up and I was going to silence it until I saw this asshole’s name pop up on your screen at three in the morning.”
“Jackson is none of your business. I wasn’t a virgin when you decided to reenter my life, as I’m sure you weren’t. So much for trust, huh? Give me my phone, Zane,” she held out her palm and demanded.
“Trust works both ways, Josselyn. Don’t make me out to be the bad guy here because I want answers. As much as I hate it, I know there were guys before me. What I want to know is why does Jackson not know that you are no longer available for 3:00 a.m. booty calls since we both know exactly that is what that call was?”
“Fuck you, Zane. Maybe, if you’d have asked me like an adult who Jackson was, this conversation would be going very differently right now. But since you felt the need to come at me all growly and jealous, you have no right to know shit. And you know what? You’re right. Trust does work both ways. Had you not gotten your ego bruised, I would have trusted you and told you that Jackson and I haven’t spoken in months and I had no intentions of answering his calls,” she rightly schooled me. Fuck. I was a bastard and right now, fucking this thing with Joss up stupendously.
Joss walked out of the room and two minutes later came back with her overnight bag. She went to her shoes and put them on.
“I’m leaving. I can’t be here right now. Thanks for dinner. I’ll order an Uber because I don’t think I can be in a car with you right now.” On that, she put on her backpack and started toward my door with her head down. Before she got there, I grabbed her upper arm and gently said, “Don’t go. I’m an asshole.”
“We don’t trust each other. This isn’t going to work. I have to go,” she choked out like she was holding back the tears and shrugged out of my hold. Joss was out the door and down my driveway before I knew what was happening.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
What the hell just happened?
This was not how this was supposed to go.
Josselyn was supposed to get dream kitchens not booty calls.
She was wrong. This thing with us was going to work. I just needed to prove it. Again.
CHAPTER 15
Who Was Wes Moretti?
Joss
TODAY WAS SHOW day, which meant it was Thursday. Prep was all done and I was excited to interview this blogger. Her name was Ryanne Bishop, former Olympic skier, and she blogged about women in sports, before, during, and after their careers. She’d done a piece on me a few years back, so when her rep reached out to us, I was stoked. There was nothing better than a fellow woman who knew what it was like to be in a man’s world and succeed, or how to transition when your career ended for whatever reason.
For me, it was time. For Ryanne, she felt that getting married and starting a family was more important than continuing skiing. I admired her for her decision because it’s not easy to make the choice between your love of career and love of a good man. Fans rarely understood, especially when they had been with you, following your career since the beginning.
Ryanne was the consummate professional
and the interview—basically me asking her the types of questions she asked for her own blog turned back on her—went spectacularly. It was fun, educational, and of course, on my show, sexy. Afterward, we exchange personal numbers and promised to get together off-air so we could hang freely without work stuff in the way.
My phone had been on silent since I left Zane’s house. In the Uber on my way back to my apartment, I texted Soraya. It was later in New York, but she’d most likely be up. I had asked her if she could talk. She was one of the only people in my life, besides Arden but she still wasn’t feeling good, who I felt comfortable talking to about emotions and feelings. It still wasn’t easy for me to do, however in this situation, I knew Soraya had some experience. When I received her text back, I snorted.
SORAYA: Of course, bitch. I’m always here for you. Call when you get home.
ME: Okay. Thanks S.
So when I got home, I called her. I explained about the phone thing and Jackson. Soraya just listened…until I let it slip about the kitchen. Then it was like a flipped switched in her and it was her time to school me in all things romance and men.
“Are you fucking kidding me? The Zane MacIntyre, the one my husband says is a more ruthless bastard than he is, built you your dream kitchen in his house, there was no sexual gratitude given for said kitchen, and then you threw it in his face that your booty call called your phone, and woke him up, which pissed him right the hell off? Do I have all that or am I missing anything? Oh, wait. I am. You also threw out you didn’t trust him in his face.” Damn. Soraya just went in.
“I mean, when you put it like that…” I trailed off.
“Look, Joss. I can’t tell you what to do here. You have a history that he obviously remembers and is in tune with. Should he have gone all alpha caveman angry on you? Hell no. But what you have to understand about guys like Zane and Graham is that once they deem you theirs, there really isn’t much you can do about it, and they will get ragey when an another man calls their woman’s phone.”
Ruthless Renovator : A Hero Club Novel Page 10
