“You think so?” He looks at me like that is impossible. He shudders. “Kids.”
“Who knows?” I’ve already lost interest in Emma’s ‘best friend.’ “I guess it could be a stomach bug.” I roll my eyes for emphasis, just in case he didn’t pick up on my sarcasm.
“Maybe,” he answers in more of a question than a statement, still not grasping my condescending tone.
I look up to the balcony, and see Emma hanging over, looking down at the crowd dancing below. Her friends are around, and she is watching someone walk in. I look at her line of sight and freeze when I see Jameson approaching Eduardo’s office. Mateo catches my eye.
“What are you doing, Evie?” I want to get up and run after him, but I can’t. My fist is clenched, and the other holds on to the barstool, preventing me from running after him. I look back up and see that Emma has returned to her friends.
“Let’s wait and go back to see what we can learn from there.” I go to stand, and Mateo grabs my hand. He must see the anxiety rising to the surface, coming over in waves. I take a deep breath to calm myself.
“Come on, sis. I got you.”
We leave the club, and I hold onto my brother like a lifeline—the only man who has been there for me.
We waited but never saw Jameson and Philip exit the club. I did see another man they called Eli drive off with Emma andthe girls, undoubtedly to take them home. Mateo followed them, and I took off to our apartment alone.
Instead of going there, I detour, taking the on-ramp heading to Jameson’s place. I’m parked outside, stalking him, and I’m excited to see him. I didn’t think it would be this long before I saw him again, but here I am debating on whether or not to end the torture I’ve felt, not being able to reach out to him because I was out of the country.
Seeing him walk into the club, and how good he looked made me stabby—even seeing my sister taking him in sent jealousy coursing through me. She has her own man, but the reminder of her legs wrapped around him at the beach sends a bolt of anger rushing through me as my face begins to feel too hot. I turn up the air conditioning and adjust the vent to hit my face, trying to calm the surge of anger.
He pulls into the parking lot, and I watch him jump out of the car and lock it with the key fob. He’s sending a message, and I immediately wonder who he is messaging. I look down at my phone. Nothing. It’s not me, but why would it be. I’ve left him hanging.
I rub at my temples, with the impending headache that threatens to erupt. I open the app where my text message was sent to Jameson some time ago.
‘Come.’One word has me shivering from head to toe. Goosebumps break out along my arms. I know he sent the message like that because he knew how it would affect me. I have been recounting the events of our first evening together—reliving the experience with Jameson.
My connection with him was one that I have never felt before or with anyone else. I have never allowed myself to become attached to anyone, but with him, I want to try. He makes me feel so much, too much, and that in itself is a scary thought.
Eve
I’ll be there as soon as I can. Leave the door open and the lights off. Be a good boy and wait for me naked in your room ;)
I grab the mask I wore the last time I was with him at the Heavenly Pearl Club. I shouldn’t even be seeing him. I should stay away, but I can’t.
I get out of my car. I parked down the street from his house, and the lights have been off for over an hour. I take in a deep breath, as I open the door, fighting all of the reasons why I should get back in my car and just drive away. Instead, I push open the door and walk into his place.
The lights are off, and I touch my mask to ensure it is in place. I lock the door behind me and take in my surroundings. I walk over to the balcony where I saw him standing weeks ago and take in the view. I want to see it from his point of view. I imagine myself watching him from my car and him looking out, unaware of me.
I touch his sofa. My hand brushes along the soft leather. Its coolness nips against my skin as I walk down the hall toward his bedroom.
And there he is. Lying on his bed. Just as I asked, he is naked and lying flat on his stomach. His even breaths let me know that he is asleep. Did he go to sleep thinking that I had stood him up, that I wouldn’t come?
I go to his chair and sit across from him, staring at his perfect form in front of me. His muscular ass is barely visible in the dim moonlight coming in through the window blinds.
When I look back up to his face, I see his eyes open and looking right back into mine. A small smile plays on his lips, and I can’t help but reciprocate. I reach down and take off my combat boots. I shimmy out of my knee-highs and leather skirt. My tank top is pulled over my head, and I stand there in nothing else except my lacy black bra and a matching thong.
Jameson turns over without breaking eye contact, and his fully erect cock is there for the taking. His tip glistens with precum; I salivate at the thought of tasting him. I reach around and undo my bra, letting it fall to the floor.
I pull down my thong, and wetness pools around my center. The sight of him turns me on.
He groans. “Eve, you’re killing me here.”
I walk over to him and crouch over his body. I lick at the tip of his thick erection as a milky drop leaks from the slit, and I lap it up, tasting his saltiness. He lifts his hips, and I take him in my mouth. Before he can grab my hair, I release him with a pop.
I move slowly up his body, leaving kisses along the way, and when I reach his neck he grabs my face between his hands and he kisses me with everything he has. Our kiss turns sloppy and hungry as if he can’t get enough of me. I understand the feeling. I run my center up and down his dick, soaking it with my wetness. I line him up and drop down onto his thickness, feeling so full.
“God, Jameson, I’ve needed this,” I admit shamelessly, showing him a vulnerability that I refuse to give anyone else. I want him to know that he is different, that what I feel for him means something to me, and that in turn, he means something to me.
