I detour from nibbling and softly suckling his lower lip to pressing kisses along his jaw, his neck, and back up to his ear before pulling his lobe with my teeth. His sharp intake of breath clues me into the fact that he likes what I am doing. My nose presses into the side of his neck and I inhale his scent. He smells like cedar and spice, the intoxicating aroma sending my hands into a frenzy as my need to touch him, to feel his warm, fragrant skin, becomes irresistible.I’ve been worrying that I wouldn’t know what to do or how to make him feel as good as his kisses make me feel. This is all new for me, and I know it’s new for Jayson as well. I love the fact that we will learn each other's bodies, what we like and don’t like, together. Being each other’s firsts is a heady feeling.
As I nibble his neck and run my hands over his back and chest, Jayson’s right hand starts to move down my body. The slow glide of his knuckles along my side causes my body to jolt and my skin to prickle. Once his hand reaches the hem of my tank top, it slips under, and his fingertips glide up until his hand stops to span under my right breast. He teases the skin under my bra and then skims lower to rest his palm flat against my stomach. Memories of the night at the Fields when he pulled me away from Elijah and started stroking my stomach crash into me. That’s when I feel a hardness press into my pelvis, and without my permission, my legs fall open and wrap around his waist.
I clutch at the front of his shirt as he pushes down heavier into my center. I moan.
“Liz?”
Before anything can happen, Freda knocks on the bedroom door and our bodies jump apart at lightning speed. By the time she pushes the door open to bring in the tray filled with food, Jayson and I are sitting at opposite ends of his bed, him at the head of the bed and me at the foot.
“Hey you two. Here,” she hands Jayson two pills, “take these and eat your soup. Liz, I know you said you weren’t hungry, but I brought extra just in case.”
She places the tray down on the bed between where Jayson and I are sitting.
“Your dad wants to talk to you after you finish eating, so unfortunately, Elizabeth, you’ll need to go home soon.”
“I understand Mrs. Jameson. I promise I won’t stay much longer.”
“You can come back tomorrow if you want to, but he’s still grounded for the next six days. I have a feeling you two will be texting and videoing anyways,” Freda comments as she pauses at the door. “Oh, and an open-door policy is in effect from now on when there’s a girl in your room.”
“Mom! Oh my God.”
We can hear Freda chuckling all the way down the hall.
Chapter 8
Ryder
I’ve been keeping to myself the past few days mulling over Julien’s words, still angry at Jayson, missing Elizabeth like crazy. It breaks my heart when I see her name light up my phone before I hit decline. She’s been calling and texting constantly, begging me to talk to her. I’m hurting her with my silence but I’m not ready to face her yet, because I know I will have to facehimas well. Julien has checked in on me a couple of times. He stopped by the house last night and we just hung out. Hell, even Elijah came over saying he wanted to get my opinion on how to tweak his dirt bike. I have a feeling Julien had a hand in that visit.
My dad and I talked for a long time the night. He’s an old romantic at heart. Told me that if Elizabeth was the one, then I should be patient and give her time to explore her feelings, that we are young and things change as we grow older. Well, my sixteen-year-old self says fuck that. I’d been waiting for seven goddamn years already.
We’ll be leaving for the beach in a few days and knowing that I’m going to be stuck in the same house with all of them, seeing Elizabeth every day, seeing Jayson and her act like boyfriend and girlfriend, being forced to put on a happy face when all the while I want to ram my fist down his throat. It’s going to be utter hell.
To help keep my mind off everything, I’ve been working with Dad in the garage from morning to night. He totally surprised me yesterday when he drove a Hellcat into the work bay, got out, and threw the keys at me.
“That’s one sweet-ass car. Custom job order?” I inquire, thinking that it’s one of his clients who wants some upgrades done.
“Nope, it’s yours.”
My mouth drops open and closes like a fish.
“No fucking way.”
“Hey, language. We’re in a place of business.” His mouth tips up in a half grin. “Your mother and I decided that you shouldn’t have to rely on always having to borrow one of our cars, and we wanted to get you something that you could work on and truly make your own. I’ve seen your drawings, Ry, your designs. I would like to help you create your dream car if you would let me.”
My dad is the fucking greatest. I go over to him and pull him in for a hug.
“Thanks, Dad. I love you.”
He thumps my back hard three times. “I love you too, Son.”
It’s a gorgeous car, and I am itching to begin working on it. I know exactly what I want to do, down to the paint color and interior. Hell, I’m taking this bad boy out to the Fields as soon as I’m done with it and tearing the hell out of that track. After so many days feeling like shit, it’s nice to have something to feel good about. Something to work toward.
I’m looking over the car, clipboard in hand, making notes of the things I want to change, replace, or modify. I don’t know how long he’s been standing there, hands pushed deep in his back pockets, shoulders hunched, when I notice him.
“What the fuck do you want?” I growl.
He flinches as if I hit him. The urge to do exactly that is overwhelming.
