Jayson: A New Adult / Coming of Age Romance (14 page)

“Damn it, Kit,” he growls. “I’m trying to hold out for you.” He gasps. I feel his cock get even harder in my hand. I didn’t know that was possible. It’s like steel wrapped in silk. My clit throbs in response, and I finally take his swollen member and guide it into my slick flesh. At first there’s a sting. I brace myself for the pain of last night, but it doesn’t come. He slips the rest of the way inside without any trouble although I feel myself widen, taking him. A languorous moan spills from my lips as he pushes his erection deeper inside of my receptive body as if he was made to fill me and only me, as if we were one being. As he moves, he seems to touch every erogenous zone.

My nails dig into his back and shoulders, and my legs tighten around his hips, the heels of my feet pressing into the back of his thighs. I strain forward, delirious with sensation. My back rolls away from the cool tile wall as my hips push forward to accept him. Then, we dance the dance that takes us where we both desire to go. My sheath swallows him, releases him, sucks him back inside. It’s like every fantasy, every dream of desire, but so much better, so much richer and more surprising. “Yes, Jayson!” I scream. “Yes!”

Sobbing with rapture, I explode yet again. My body shakes uncontrollably, thighs tightening around his hips as my hot, throbbing womanhood jerks and spasms. Crumpling with weakness, I go limp in his arms. He batters my body, pumping faster and harder, deeper. The movement teases my still-pulsating sex to come again at the very same time he lets out a primal growl, mad with pleasure. I gasp his name as he tears away from me. My feet fall to the floor. I hold myself up by the rails, reach out a hand to cup his. His hand and my hand squeeze down his shaft, and he collapses against me, spewing his seed against my stomach. It’s hot and copious. He keeps coming, and as he comes undone, he hoarsely yells my name over and over. I feel possessed by him. I feel like I am his—and there is nothing sweeter in this world.

“
D
o
you like your eggs scrambled or what?” I ask. I think I already mentioned to Jayson I suck at cooking, but since he gamely asked for breakfast, I decide to give it my best shot. I turn around, holding up the whisk I’m about to use to scramble the eggs.

“Surprise me,” he replies with a grin.

I giggle. “Okay, but I don’t want to hear any complaints when you get your plate. It’ll be a surprise, alright.”

It’s late Sunday morning after our tryst in the shower, and I don't have a single thing planned for the rest of the day. I don’t have to go to work. I don’t have to go to school. And, even though I have a little studying to do, that can wait. Instead, I look across the bar and study the man sitting there. His hawkish nose casts a shadow over his shapely lips. His almond-shaped eyes are the color of whiskey. His skin is deeply tanned, and his dark crewcut gives him a military look, supremely confident and competent. He’s all male and yet still, somehow, gentle. I trust him. It’s hard to believe someone I’ve only known about a month and a half can make me feel like this. I shiver deliciously.

“Jayson, I hope I’m not holding you up from anything important today. You don’t have to stay if you have things to do.” My hurt feelings of earlier got salved in the shower. I can let him go now, if he needs to go. I just want to make sure we’re on the same page. No point in planning a lazy day in his company if he’s not free to linger.

Jayson arches a brow. “Hmm, I’ve always got something or other to do, what with work and my younger brothers, my mom and all that…but it’s nothing Cast or Dev can’t handle. Ashby stayed over at my place last night to be with Momma, who I’m sure is tickled pink that I didn’t make it in last night. You’ll have to meet her. She’s a big fan of us seeing more of each other.”

“You told your mom about me?” I ask in surprised pleasure.

“Technically that big mouth, Cast, told her.” He chuckles. I try to picture Jayson and the rest of the Zephyr brood together under one roof. Jayson would be the sober, serious one trying to take charge of everything. From what I know of Castiel, he’d be the joker of the family. I don’t know Devon well, and I haven’t met Ashby at all.

“I want to meet your family,” I say wistfully. Then I wonder if I’m taking things too far too fast. But he did say I’d have to meet his mom. I push aside my fears.

Jayson snaps his fingers, as if remembering something he forgot. “Hey, that stuff we bought at the estate sale is supposed to be delivered today anyway.”

“Perfect! With you here, I won’t have to throw my back out trying to put everything in place.”

Jayson moves away from the counter to step up behind me at the stove. He pulls aside my white blond hair and nuzzles his face against the pale curve of my neck. We’re almost the same height. I thrust my buttocks back against his pelvis and feel the growing ridge of his erection. Delicious, tempting thoughts of making love again surface.

“There are perks to having a guy like me around.”

“I’ll be sure to list each and every perk off to my mother when she finds out about us. She seems to think I can do better than you.” I grin as he pulls away. I notice his pained expression and realize I spoke out of turn. “Wow, I didn’t mean that the way it sounded,” I try to explain.

Jayson puts up his hands, smiles at me. “It’s cool. I have a pretty clear idea of what your mom thinks of me.”

I look around. It’s funny how life works. If it weren’t for the charming house in Western Addition, I probably never would’ve met Jayson. This is the house that bad decisions built, if you ask my mom. Now, everything is changing. I started out keeping Jayson at a distance because I knew my mother wouldn’t approve. I was going to follow her orders and sell my house. It took my best friend Grace to show me what a big mistake I was making. If this was supposed to be my chance to prove I could do things on my own, then why let my mother dictate everything? I decided to keep the house…and after last night? I’m deciding to keep Jayson, too.

“It doesn’t matter what my mom thinks of you,” I say as I set his plate in front of him. “She thinks I won’t make it over here on my own, too. She’s wrong. We’ll prove it to her.”

P
rofessor Schwartz lectures
from the podium, displaying an obvious fascination with the subject of Monday’s lesson. It’s one of the reasons she’s my favorite teacher; the woman knows her stuff. Making obscure weaving techniques come to life with a flick of her wrist and point of her stylus, she enthralls the rest of the class with a slideshow. At least, they remain more convincingly attentive than I do, for a change, even though I’m arguably the teacher’s pet. Ordinarily I would be hanging onto her every word. She’s my mentor, my design and décor idol, my favorite professor in the whole university. But, at my table in the front row, I have a hard time paying attention to a word she says. When she mentions the section she’s currently covering will be on the final, I studiously snatch my wayward thoughts away from my amazing, unforgettable, life-changing weekend with Jayson to take notes.

Jayson stayed with me until deep into Sunday evening after taking me to the estate sale on Saturday and spending the night. We shared meals and movies, made love and had long conversations about design, construction, love, life, and dreams that left me simultaneously satisfied and unfulfilled. Waking up without him this morning made me miss him more than I thought I would. More than I thought I
could.

I’ve had boyfriends before. Well, one boyfriend. He went to the same prep school as me and took me to school dances and stuff. Mom liked him because his father was a neurosurgeon and his mother was a state senator. His name was Andrew, he was into Japanese culture, liked the tilt of my eyes, and that’s all I remember. Oh yeah, we kissed once. I wondered what the big deal was.

Other than that guy, I didn’t devote much attention to love or relationships because it seemed pointless. All my girlfriends ever talked about was how stupid their boyfriends acted. I guess I created a mental picture of men as either boring or brutish, needy or selfish. Why would I want that in my life while trying to accomplish my dreams? Yet, Jayson has me throwing out my preconceived notions. He’s not a part of my plans for my future, and now I can’t even see a future without him.

Sighing, I get to work. These notes aren’t going to write themselves. I put thoughts of my new significant other out of my head and spend the last half of the class actually focusing on what I’m supposed to be doing.

After class, Professor Schwartz beckons me up to the podium for a word, and I nervously step forward, wondering if I’m in trouble. Did she catch me daydreaming? Did she notice I wasn’t paying attention? Worse, maybe I dozed off during class. I did go to bed pretty late last night. “Yes, Professor?”

“Ah, Kit, we’re coming up to the close of the first semester, and I’m really looking forward to seeing your final project for Textiles.” I think of the assignment that’s half-finished and make a mental note not to get too wrapped up in Jayson to get it done.

“I think you’ll be pleased,” I say proudly. “I started working on it at the beginning of the year, and I put a lot of extra effort into it. I’m nearly done.”

“Wonderful, wonderful!” she coos. This is the woman who makes freshmen cry. She has to see something in me to be so dedicated to my success. That thought makes me smile. I have the
It
factor, and I intend to stay in her good graces. Professor Schwartz continues, “I’d like to see you in my office when you have a free minute, okay? I want to talk to you more about that internship. I only gave the application to students I felt would be best for the position, and I’m rooting for you in particular.”

I hesitate as I shift my backpack on my shoulder. Meeting with my mentor? “Um, I’d love to meet with you again. I’m sure I can free up some time,” I reply. I don’t know how I’ll do it, though. I mentally check my schedule. Between work and school and trying to be around Jayson Zephyr, I hardly have any room for very important talks with my college professors. I seriously contemplate what, besides Jayson, can be cut. Of course, I realize it’s completely empty-headed of me to prioritize a guy ahead of my schoolwork. It’s laughable.

Professor Schwartz seems oblivious to my inner struggle, for which I’m grateful. I don’t want to send the message that I don’t need her. She’s one of the few people who have shown any confidence in my dream of having my own show on HGTV. Not even my own mother has faith in that. I wave goodbye and trudge out of her classroom with the rest of her students.

It’s my last class of the day, and I drive across campus to the student union to meet Gracie so we can grab smoothies together. I spot her waiting outside for me, and we hurry indoors to escape the damp chill of early December. Once inside, Grace puts a finger up to stop me before I can say a word. “Nope, I don’t want to hear it,” she complains. I quirk a brow, half-smiling.

“What’s gotten into you?” I scan the smoothie menu as she grabs a tray and gets in line next to me. Grace keeps mum, making a point of ignoring me. “Grace…Grace!” She shakes her head resolutely. I’m bursting to spill the beans, but she gives me the silent treatment. I
so
want to tell her all about what happened with Jayson, but I have a hunch that’s why she’s holding a grudge. My psychic bestie probably had a vision or something. “Alright, what’d I do?”

We get our orders and get all the way to our table before she deigns to address me. “Since when do we keep secrets from each other, Kit?” she asks with mock sternness.

I erupt with laughter. “It’s impossible to keep anything from you,” I say with a snort. “How’d you find out? A tarot reading? My horoscope? Did you see it in a dream?” I tease.

“Humph!” Grace sips from her smoothie and studies me with a side-eye. “Well, I was talking about why you couldn’t take any of my calls yesterday. I figured you were trying to keep it a secret you spent the day with one of the lovely Zephyr brothers, but from the look in your eye, something tells me there’s more to that story! What should I have seen in the cards or your horoscope?” The late afternoon sun lights up her soft, golden-brown face, and she’s all eyes. And ears.

Giggling I cover my mouth. “Uh-oh! Have I given myself away?”

“Looks like you have!” Grace tosses her auburn ponytail and leans closer, pushing both our smoothies aside. “Tell me everything,” she presses with an excited smile.

I whisper directly into her ear what happened, glancing left and right to make sure no one hears what I tell her. Grace’s eyes get larger and larger. Her mouth drops open. She looks at me in scandalized amazement. “Oh, my friggin’ God!” she yelps. “You did what?”

“Shh!” I hiss, putting a hand over her mouth.

Grace shakes out of my hand and pins me with an incredulous stare. “Girl, this house thing…I think it was just what you needed to come out of your adolescent cocoon and embrace your fledgling adulthood. You’re transforming right in front of me. It’s amazing, Kitrina Ann!”

“Yes, it is! And, the s-e-x? Oh, Gracie, it was so…” I still don’t have the words. I sigh, tremble, look skyward and shake my head. Grace crows with laughter.

“I totally get it,” she says. “So, um, are you and him together-together now?”

“Eh…It’s complicated. I hate to throw around titles willy-nilly strictly because we slept together, but I got the impression he wants us to be together-together. He didn’t say it expressly,” I say with sudden doubt. It seemed to me Jayson was pressing for more than casual sex, based on everything he said, but on the other hand, it’s not like we set anything in stone. I groan. “Grace, I honestly don’t know. I might have to find out by checking his social media, see if he changed his relationship status or something. Ha! Damned twenty-first century dating woes. We kind of just have an
understanding
. Tell me I don’t sound like one of those foolish girls who overestimates their importance in a man’s life, Grace. I keep hearing my mother’s favorite words: big mistake.”

Grace reaches across the table and squeezes my arm. “Keep it together, hot stuff. Everything I know about Mr. Zephyr tells me you’ve met your match, in a good way. Only thing I worry about is how you’re going to have any time for him!”

“I’ll make the time,” I say brazenly. I don’t know how, but I will.

Grace and I leave the student union and head to work at Devil in the Details. Hanging out in the break room, I tell her more about how things got so serious with Jayson. I tell her about how he asked if we could be friends instead of client and contractor and how he took me to the estate sale and bought just about everything I wanted. I can confess to her my serious doubts about moving forward with him because I didn’t want to disappoint my mother. It’s stuff Grace understands. She doesn’t seem the least bit surprised that I ultimately went against the grain.

“You’re at a stage in your life where a lot of life decisions have to be made, and Mrs. Schneider can’t make them for you. You’re realizing that. I think it’s great you didn’t act rashly and just go on attraction alone from the get-go. It shows maturity that you thought it through and made a sound decision based on reasoning.”

“You think so? You’re more used to this doing it on your own crap. You got the hell out of Dodge as soon as you got the chance to go to a university out of state. You don’t have your mother breathing down your neck, making you question your decisions.”

Grace bubbles with laughter. “She tries. There’s not a lot she can do by phone. I had to show my parents they did a good job raising me. It’s as scary for them to let us do it by ourselves as it is for us. As for Jayson? I could tell right away when I met him that he had a thing for you, and it’s easy to see why. He’s got great taste. Remember that wallpaper he picked out?”

“Oh, speaking of which, your guest bedroom is finished!” I announce. Grace claps gleefully. “Late Sunday a delivery truck dropped off my furniture from the estate sale. Granted, a few repairs might have to be made, and it won’t hurt to reupholster some of the pieces, but finally everything is beginning to come together. So, as soon as we get out for winter break, you’re staying with me!”

“Hell, yeah! This is going to be the best Christmas ever! Wait, wait, what am I saying? What are
you
saying? You have a boyfriend now,” she pouts. “I love you and all, but it’ll be super weird to hear you guys bumping and grinding in the room upstairs while I’m trying to get to bed early so Santa can bring me a sexy firefighter for Christmas.” She waggles her eyebrows lecherously at the mention of her every Christmas wish. Grace has been asking for a firefighter for Christmas for as long as I’ve known her. I sniggle at the idea, especially the part about hearing Jayson and me “bumping and grinding.”

“I have a boyfriend but that doesn’t change anything. It’s not like he lives with me,” I protest. “You’re always welcome at my place, and—scout’s honor—you will never have to hear us doing the nasty. I’d be too embarrassed at the thought of you being subjected to my debauchery. I bet Jayson will bring over Castiel for you, so you won’t have to feel like a third wheel. I just better not hear you, either!”

She snorts in amusement. “Pfft! Me bump-n-grinding with Castiel? Why do you insist on lumping us into the same category as you and Jayson?” Grace puts her knuckles together under her chin and smiles at me, bemused. “I do think it’s so cute that you don’t know how these things work.”

“What are you talking about?” I ask. “How what things work?”

“I’m talking about relationships,” she says, glancing at her watch. “Oops, we don’t have time to discuss this right now. Gotta clock in. Just know, Kit, whatever happens, I won’t hold it against you when you get all wrapped up in the love and forget to make time for our friendship.”

“I’ll hold it against me. That’s why it’s not happening,” I adamantly deny. She hops up from her chair at the break room table and comes around to hug me tight before she pulls on her work vest. I put on mine, too. I don’t know where Grace gets the notion I’ll kick her to the curb just because I have Jayson in my life, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. I don’t operate like that.

We both dash out onto the storeroom floor where Grace takes up her position at the register, and I mill around, looking for anyone needing some assistance. The place is bustling with activity, rounding out the year with storewide sales that draw more customers than usual. Cinnamon and apple scent satchels blend with other holiday smells that permeate the air in Devil in the Details. The assortment of décor runs the gamut from style essentials like elegant lamps and mirrors to seasonal favorites like wreaths and Christmas decorations. The store’s soft, yellow lights make everything look enchanting, the sort of detail that elevates the boutique to a higher level of sophistication. It’s why I love where I work.

I come across a kindly older woman looking lost and overwhelmed by the vast selection in the fabrics department, a clear sign she could use help from me, the tastemaker. I tsk sympathetically out of her earshot and make a beeline for her. “Welcome to Devil in the Details. I’m Kit, your friendly sales associate. Can I help you find anything?” I ask brightly.

She squints at me through bifocals. “Yes, hello! I’m looking for doilies—you know, the adorable little lace circles? I can’t seem to find them anywhere. You see, I have a lovely antique coffee table with just a few coffee rings here and there, and I’ll be entertaining guests for Christmas. I want the house looking its very best. I imagine if I put the doilies over the watermarks, the table will be like new!”

She looks so optimistic that I hate to break it to her. “What a lovely idea! But I don’t know about it making the table look like new.” I gently grasp her shoulders and steer her towards our furniture section. “You don’t want to buy doilies, Mrs…”

“Irene. But, I most certainly do want to buy doilies. My mother, God rest her, used to make exquisite ones. I’d have them on hand if it wasn’t for the fire in sixty-seven. I know, I should’ve replaced them when I had the chance. I’m afraid my eyesight isn’t what it used to be, or I’d try my hand at making them myself. They seem to have fallen out of fashion. Do you even have any here?”