Jayson: A New Adult / Coming of Age Romance (15 page)

“We may, but why don’t you take a look at our coffee tables, Irene? We just got in a new shipment of furniture this week, and I can get you a deal too good to pass up, with this great twenty-five percent off sale we have going on. I know what you really want to do is replace that beat-up, old scarred thing you’ve got back home with something fresh and new to show off to your family and friends.” I beam confidently, positive I can convince her a new table what she needs. I know some people have a harder time parting with sentimental junk, thinking some pieces are antique simply because they’re old and falling apart. However, Irene looks like a sensible woman. She’ll be happier with the end result if she listens to me. “I bet I have something that will work perfectly. Check this one out.”

I show off a squat, square table painted white. It’s a table that would equally suit a modern living room or one with a more dated look. I’m guessing Irene’s leans more to the latter. I turn up the sales pitch, showing off the table’s versatility. “The future is here, Irene. No sense living in the past. This coffee table is made with a brand new plastic polymer that won’t stain or swell with moisture. You can do away with your coasters and even your furniture polish. Just a swipe of a damp towel is all you need to keep this surface glossy enough to see your reflection.”

She shakes her head. “No, you don’t understand—.”

“This is a steal at a little over five hundred dollars. You won’t find another one like it at that price, and I happen to know personally it comes from a reputable line of furniture. Sturdy as all get out.” Irene squints at it skeptically.

“No, no, no, dear,” she refuses again. “Like I was trying to say, my coffee table has been in the family for generations, and I don’t want to replace it. Besides, I’m on a fixed income; I can’t afford anything like this. Thank you, but I’d really like to see those doilies I asked about.”

I try a different tack. “You’re looking at the upfront cost, aren’t you? Let me put it to you this way. If you buy those doilies today, you’ll have to replace them in another few weeks. They’re so delicate they tear easily and stain easily. Add up the cost of all the replacements, and you’ve practically bought a new coffee table. Plus, we have wonderful payment plans.”

“I don’t want a new coffee table,” she says stubbornly.

“Or,” I amend quickly, “if you can’t swing the cost this evening, you can sell the coffee table you have to a salvage store.” It’s a great idea, in my book. (I admit I was only half-listening to what she said before about it being a family heirloom, or I never would’ve suggested selling it.) I picture her rickety old coffee table back home covered haphazardly with doilies and cringe. “Just think about it,” I urge.

She frowns deeply, trembling slightly. I pull back, surprised. She looks so upset. “Thank you for your help,” she says quietly.

I watch, dumbfounded, as she turns away from me and shuffles out the door of the store. Then, I realize she must be taking my advice. She’s going home to think about it. She’ll probably be back tomorrow.

Smiling brightly, I put my fists on my hips and scope out the store for someone else to rescue. As I speed-walk off in the direction of a frazzled-looking woman trying to corral three small kids, I barely notice Grace eyeing me with a concerned expression. Before I have time to wonder what that’s all about however, I’m on to my next task, finding the perfect wall mural for a kid’s room. On days like this, I really love my job.

A
fter the mind
-blowing weekend with Kit I find it next to impossible to go back to my normal routine without thinking about her every five seconds, but in my busy life, I don’t have much room for distractions. I yell across the warehouse floor to my new hire to watch out for the forklift, mentally noting a safety meeting might be in order with all the new people on the job. Dev pops in my office to report progress on a job site out east with a demanding client. We shoot around ideas for how to keep the customer happy. Then, I take a break to do inventory and check with my assistant to make sure the invoices I dropped in her box got entered into the system.

Within a few hours, my humdrum life is back up to speed. I feel myself being pulled in a thousand different directions, exactly like usual. Castiel calls to announce he and his crew finished another room of Kit’s house, and I don’t mention that I had my own personal open house tour already, although I know he knows something is up. Ashby had to stay with Mamma while I spent the weekend with Kit.

I entertain the idea of telling Castiel about how things took a turn for the better between me and the comely college coed, since he’s the one who advocated hardest for me to get the girl. But, at the last minute I change my mind. In the back of my head, I wonder if it’s too soon to make any definite claims. Everything’s too new to say for certain whether it’ll last.

“Alright, thanks for calling in the update, Castiel. Just make sure you log it in the progress notes. And, another thing, can you check and make sure the boys are clocking in and out right? Last week our timekeeper had trouble making sense of the punch cards since so many people made errors. I’ve got some meetings scheduled over the course of the next month to get everybody on track, though.”

“Will do. By the by, did you happen to leave a, um, watch over here? Found one in the bathroom.” Castiel snickers.

I roll my eyes. The cat’s out of the bag. “I hope you haven’t been snooping around Kit’s house. She has a right to her privacy, you know. Leave the watch there. You never know who it belongs to.”

“No, I’m pretty sure it’s yours,” he says, trying to suppress his laughter. He doesn’t let me off the hook. “I was wondering why she was in such a good mood this morning. Now I know.”

“Castiel,” I say in a warning tone.

“Fine, fine. I’ll leave it here for you to pick up whenever you make your way back. How are things between you and the client?”

“She’s happy with the progress of the house, and I told her we’d be wrapped sooner than later. In other words, you don’t have time to be prying into my personal life right now. Don’t you have a job to do?” I complain, which only causes him to laugh unabashedly. “Get to work, super sleuth,” I command. He hangs up the phone, and I get back to the contract I was looking over before I was so rudely interrupted. The jackal probably only called to mention the watch anyway. I chuckle. What would my life be like without my brothers?

I’ve lived so much of my existence being there for them just so I could shield them from the dangers I had to face, figuring out shit on my own. It takes some getting used to for all of us—the prospect of me having a personal life. Prior to Kit, my family was my life.

It’s not until late in the evening I get enough of a break from work to finally pick up the phone and call her.

Here’s the thing. I’ve had relationships before. Clearly, this isn’t my first turn on the dance floor. In the past, however, my relationships were on my terms. The women I dealt with knew my family came first, my work came second, whatever else was important in my life came next, and they got whatever was left, usually not much It’s different with Kitrina. I don’t know why. It makes me uncomfortable to think I let a whole day go by without a calling her.

She answers on the first ring in a bubbly, excited voice that tells me she was waiting to hear from me. “Hey, beautiful,” I murmur, leaning back in the leather office chair. I run a hand over my crew cut and smile, picturing her pretty face. “I’m sorry I couldn’t call sooner. It’s been a Monday, busy as hell and still kicking long after it oughta be done for. I don’t think I’ll be able to leave the office for another few hours. But, how was your day?”

“From the sound of it, about like yours. I had the hardest time concentrating in my classes today, and I have finals coming up. That doesn’t bode well for me.”

Grinning, I respond cheekily, “Oh, yeah? What was on your mind that made it hard to concentrate?” I envision her svelte body in the shower while we made love yesterday morning, the passionate way she responded to me.

She giggles guiltily. “You,” is all she says. The way she says it makes me feel important, special. I sigh in pleasure. It’s a different kind of feeling to care about someone who reciprocates the affection. I can’t say I’ve ever had that before in a relationship. Things were always one sided. Either I cared too much or not enough. This thing here…it’s mutual.

“You were on mine, too,” I confess. “I want to see you again soon. I don’t know how, but I’m gonna make the time. What are you doing this weekend?”

Kit groans, and I sit up straighter at the disappointment in the sound. “I’m sorry. Am I moving too fast for you?” I ask gently. “We can see each other on your terms. Just tell me when you wanna see me again.”

“Right now,” she replies. “I want to see you right now. You have no idea. It was hell sleeping without you last night after having you next to me for two nights in a row. Unfortunately, all this week I’m swamped with work and school, and this weekend is projected to be about the same. Like I said, I have finals coming up. Even my free time isn’t free right now. I have to study.”

“Of course you do, and I wouldn’t dare get in the way of that,” I murmur. “Don’t beat yourself up about it. We both knew from the very beginning that we had these busy schedules. It’s alright.”

“Is it silly of me to fear life will get in the way of us spending time together? That’s what worries me most. This is new for me. I don’t want to mess things up, but I can’t turn away from everything I’ve been working on to get to where I am. You understand, right?”

I reassure her that I do, and it’s the truth. Lord knows, if she was like my ex who nagged and complained about me having to work, things would go nowhere fast. “How about this?” I propose. “I know you work on the weekends, and I work through the week. If we want to spend time, we’re going to have to make it happen. So when you get off work Friday night, while you’re studying, what if I come over and hang out with you? We can run flashcards or something.” I chuckle, picturing me helping her study. It’s comical, but it’s a way to be together. We’ll have to multitask. “I can make arrangements to be free the entire weekend and stay, if you want.”

“I think that’s a brilliant idea, Mr. Zephyr. My, my. You are sexy and smart. What a winning combination,” she purrs. Laughter burbles up at the affectation.

“I was thinking the same thing about you, Ms. Schneider.”

I
wake
up in a cold sweat, shaking from the nightmare. In the dream, I was back in the juvenile detention center. Only this time I wasn’t a truculent teenager without the wherewithal to understand the far-reaching consequences of my actions. I knew exactly what I was putting at risk, what I was giving up. The crushing weight of my failure to be a solid example for my younger brothers stands out in stark relief as I go back over the details. But, the worst part of the dream wasn’t that. The worst part was the look on Kitrina’s face when she saw me behind bars. There was so much horror, so much judgment there.

I sit up in bed and wipe my brow as I try to steady my racing heart. The dream felt so real. Things I had forgotten about that place come back to me in high-definition—the revolting smells, the drab colors, the sheer hopelessness smeared over each and every one of us young men in the center who felt we didn’t have a future. It takes me a minute to compose myself and realize I’m no longer locked up.

I’m in a king-sized bed in a nice apartment in the better part of San Francisco. My surroundings aren’t the urine- soaked cell of yesterday. I defied the odds. I used the detention time to reevaluate my choices and make better decisions. Rebellion for its own sake is no longer my calling card. It’s a thing of the past. I’m a responsible adult now, one who learned how to motivate myself to get the things I deserve in life. I did it. “I’m out!” I repeat aloud to myself in the darkness. I sigh, shaking off the fear of the dream. I’m out of the system, out of the situation, out of my self-imposed criminal mindset.

It occurs to me there’s a lot about my past the impressionable young woman I want to date doesn’t know. Kit’s giving me a chance to be a significant part of her life, the opportunity to reveal all my darkest secrets. Do I want to do that? I think about that look on her face in the dream. It’s not too farfetched to imagine she’d respond exactly the same way in real life. The answer is that I don’t want to tell her. I want to keep her far away from any hint of that life…at least until I know for sure she can accept me, past and present.

“
I
want
to take you out.” Jayson’s voice comes across the smartphone speaker. The device is nestled in a mount attached to the dash of my car.

I quirk a brow as I flash on my blinker to make a turn, stuck in traffic on my way home from work. It’s a dark Thursday night, but the city is lit up with strings of holiday lights circling every light pole, and there’s a festive feeling in the air. Store windows boast mannequins in winter gear with confetti snow and stuffed reindeer or banners announcing sales. I pass a toy store and remember how magical Christmas used to be when I was a kid. Everywhere I look, there’s that magic. “I feel like I deserve a break,” I answer Jayson. “I spent all day up to my elbows in coursework and assignments and all evening at Devil in the Details. But, tonight?” An incredulous smile tickles my lips at the very notion of him taking me out now. It’s already eleven thirty. Where would we go? What would we do?

“Momma used to say after midnight nothing’s open but legs,” he laughs as he says it. “It’s getting late tonight. What do you say I pick you up tomorrow?”

“Funny, my mom used to say the same damn thing. Um, I guess we can see each other after I get out of class, and I get out early tomorrow. So, where do you want to take me?” A frisson of excitement zings through me. I wonder if he knows this will be my first real date as a grownup.

Conversations with Jayson always leave me bursting with anticipation, no matter what we talk about. It’s his voice. It’s the way he drawls his words and puts his sentences together, laid back and unrushed. Like he’s been waiting on me all day, and he has all the time in the world to indulge me. But this time I shiver, wondering what he has in mind for this date. “I can’t tell you that,” he says to me. As I try to guess, we hammer out the details of what time he’ll pick me up, but he refuses to give any more away.

“Just tell me,” I press again. “What’s the big mystery? You know we don’t keep things from each other. This is setting a bad precedent for our relationship.” I can’t help but laugh out loud at the shameless guilt-tripping. Jayson chuckles sexily. I think he might change his mind.

“Ooh, you have a point. But, how was school today?” he changes the subject.

“Jayson Zephyr!”

“What? You don’t want me to be interested in your future? I’m trying to show you care and affection, Kitrina Schneider,” he teases.

I park on the street in front of the house. Running inside to escape the cold, I continue the chat. “Oh, c’mon. Well, if you won’t tell me, I won’t know what to wear. I guess I’ll have to go naked.”

“That sounds appealing…but then we probably won’t go anywhere because I’ll be too busy admiring your birthday suit. Now, how was school?”

I
wake
the next morning with a flurry of butterflies in my stomach, a jaunty skip to my step. Instead of lingering around in bed until the final hour like I normally do, I get right up and get dressed to meet the day. I have a date. I have a boyfriend. I have… “A class assignment due.” I smile to myself as I grab my portfolio and exit my bedroom.

It’s the lightest course day of the week, with only two classes for the whole day. I have to work later, but there’s plenty of time in between to fool around with Jayson. I think about what my mom would say about me using the break to go out instead of as extra time to study. I haven’t talked to her since Thanksgiving. However, it doesn’t matter what she would say, I remind myself. I’m an adult—fumbling around at it, but I am.

Humming a pop song, I march down the stairs and greet Cast and crew setting up in the main room of the house to complete the last details of the renovation. The men from Zephyr Brothers Construction remind me of the seven dwarves, diligently working every time I see them. But, their industrious nature is paying off for me. My house is the bee’s-knees. The entire lower floor is complete and nearly furnished, needing only fine details to bring things together. My vision for my home is taking shape.

“You guys are amazing. I know I say it all the time, but you keep surprising me with how fast you work and how well you get the job done.” I flash two thumbs up as I stand beside the sectional in the living room and look around at how things are coming together. Upstairs, they have only my bedroom to finish, which they’re slated to do today.

“Good mornin’!”

“Hey, Kit.”

“Kit!”

I get a chorus of greetings from the guys. “Hi-ho, my lovelies. You guys want some breakfast?” I ask graciously.

“Kiddin’ me, doll? Last time you offered us breakfast, you fed us lumpy pancakes and runny eggs,” an old-timer whose name I always forget says to me.

I sassily put my hands on my hips and fix him with a mock scowl that loses effect when I laugh along with him. “Well, as I recall, I warned you all in advance I wasn’t the best in the kitchen, but, for your information, a certain favorite client of yours picked up donuts last night just so I could have something edible to offer you hungry men.” I materialize a box of sugary, delicious donuts kept fresh for them.

Castiel ambles over to take first pick. “Morning, Ms. Kit. Ready for us to get out of your way yet? Almost done here. We’ll be saying our goodbyes soon, just in time for Christmas,” Castiel says. His eyes crinkle mischievously with his smile. He’s like the older brother I never had.

“Are you kidding me? Say goodbye to waking up to power tools? Humph…Nope, not ready at all. I’m actually gonna miss you guys,” I answer honestly. I snag a donut before they’re all taken, nibbling at the crusty sweetness. “Will I still be seeing
you
around?” I pin him with a look and a smile, knowing damn well Castiel and Gracie have more going on between them than the casual friendship they want me to believe.

“I’m sure I won’t disappear off the face of the earth,” he says with a grin. “Tell Grace I said hello.”

I wave goodbye and jet out the door. “Grace, Castiel says hello,” I speak into my phone a few minutes later.

“Kit! Just the person I wanted to talk to. I’ve got some good news and some bad news. Mom and Dad got me a plane ticket. Looks like I’m going home.”

“Aww, Gracie,” I pout. “Don’t go! What about our plans?” I whine at the idea of not spending the holiday with her. I know I’m being selfish. Her parents haven’t seen her in months.

“Yeah, I know. I was totally psyched up to spend the whole winter break at your place. But, it’s the parents we’re talking about here. I bet Jayson wants to keep you under the mistletoe the whole time anyway.”

“Speaking of which, guess who has a bona fide date this afternoon? Jayson says he’ll swing by campus and pick me up.” I announce. Then I remember something. “Oh, Christ! You and me already had plans to hang out! Grace, I totally forgot. I am so sorry.”

She pauses, and I can’t tell if she feels cast aside or if she’s simply preoccupied with something else while talking to me. “Don’t worry about it, Kit. We can do something another time. Anyway, I’ll see you on campus, homie. Drive safely.”

D
espite agreeing
to see each other later, we don’t. I get stuck in the library doing last minute research on a term paper I forgot was due, and by the time Jayson arrives to pick me up, I officially feel like the world’s worst friend.

“She probably doesn’t mind, Kit,” says Jayson after I explain things to him.

“That’s not the point. I told her this wouldn’t happen, and it’s happening anyway.”

“Do you want me to take you back? I don’t want you to feel bad.”

I stare at him for a second but ultimately decline the suggestion. “You really are a sweet guy,” I whisper, more so to myself. To think, I almost let him get away. “You and I barely get any time together as it is. Let’s enjoy this!”

He ends up taking me to a hotel, which is the last thing I expected. When I walk into the five-star room, the interior designer in me swoons. Every detail falls in line—the black platform bed, the orange couch, the tasteful spray of flowers. Rose petals adorn the white comforter and trail from the bed to the bathroom. In awe, I follow the trail and find a massive hot tub already filled to the brim.

He moves past me and lights candles, and from a hidden sound system comes a sensual love song. I drop my backpack in the center of the main room and stare at him in shock. “You set all this up just for me? Just for a handful of hours?”

Jayson grins and steps close to put his arms around my waist and stare down into my face. When his mouth slants across mine, I kiss him back with heated arousal. He gently disengages. “Actually, I set up all this just for you for the next few days while the guys finish your room. That way you can rest in comfort. When was the last time you slept in a bed anyway?”

I giggle. “Almost a month ago. Oh, Jayson, this is too much.”

“It’s not enough for you. You deserve more than a couple of relaxed nights. It’s the least I can do.” He glides the tip of his tongue along the bow of my bottom lip. I press my chest to his, feeling the warmth pool between my thighs. His spicy cologne enthralls me. His capable arms carry me over to the bed where he quickly pulls my sweatshirt over my head. His mouth burns kisses from my lips to my breasts. I let out a gasp of pleasure. His fingertips hook into the hem of my jeans, and he rips the button free, dragging the pants off of me.

Jayson grabs my ankle and effortlessly flips me over onto my stomach. I look back in surprise. He’s being rougher than what I’ve come to expect of him, but…I like it. I smile deliriously. Watching him carefully unwrap a condom, I marvel at his awesome size and girth. The fact my body molds to his is a thing of beauty. He doesn’t fully undress. He comes to me with his pants lowered to his thighs and his member swinging proudly.

I rebel against the unspoken order for me to stay where I am, ready for him. I turn around and dauntlessly reposition myself at the foot of the bed. As I sit and look up into his eyes, I see the questions. I have questions of my own. There’s so much he can teach me, and so much I want to learn. The way he satisfied my needs with his mouth the other day plays back in my head, and I wonder if I can do the same to him.

Jayson pauses with the condom. I wrap my warm hand around his smooth, hard shaft. I blush as we make eye contact, but I don’t stop. I slowly lean forward to flick my tongue against the slit of his erection. “You,” he whispers shakily, “are a force to be reckoned with.” He drops the condom and sinks his fingertips into my hair at the back of my head. At his gentle pressure, I slide my hot, wet open mouth forward inch by inch, swallowing him to the midway point. The way he visibly shakes bolsters my confidence as I pull back. I close my eyes to get to know him by taste, scent, touch and sound alone.

I have no idea what I’m doing, but it’s as much a pleasure for me as it seems to be for him. I experience the thrill of his heated erection in my mouth, the way his veins engorge and pulsate. His tangy sweetness spills on my tongue. His skin smells clean, but manly—something I can’t describe. I inhale deeply and groan greedily as I try to quiet the slurping, suckling sounds of my hunger. There’s no hiding how I delight in what I’m doing to him. “Oh, fuck,” he growls in erotic anguish. I smile around his hardness, squeezing him with my hands. I experiment with rolling my tongue around in dizzying circles just beneath the head of his manhood. The texture of his skin captivates me. I lick it wetly, using my tongue to discover him.

“Kitrina, please, please…” He begs me in a tortured voice. His hand presses the back of my head more insistently even as he tries to tell me to stop. I get into the flow. I work my head up and down and my lips tighten around his swollen shaft. I move faster. My hand follows my mouth, swirling my wrist to explore every inch of him. His hips reflexively jerk away. I hurriedly clutch the back of his thighs and pull him back to my mouth. Between my legs, a wonderful rain waits to drench him with my desire. The lust within me builds as I pleasure him.

Incoherent sounds of ecstasy erupt from him. Jayson forcefully pulls out of my grasp. He holds himself. The evidence of his completion gushes over his fingers. I reach for him, but he dances away. “W-wait,” he stammers, breathing heavily. “Baby, just wait.”

“Did I do it right?” I ask timidly.

He exhales, chuckling. “Did you do it right?” he repeats. He looks down at himself, nodding. I giggle, covering my mouth.

“What a wicked thing I’m becoming with you,” I whisper in amazement.

Jayson disappears into the bathroom to clean himself up. When he comes back he says, “No…Not wicked. Womanly.”

He eases me back onto the bed. Then, he grabs me by the hips and flips me back over into the position he wants me. My legs dangle over the edge. “What now?” I ask.

“Do you even need to ask? It’s my turn.”

As I lie on my stomach, he slides an arm between my body and the bed and boosts my bottom up into the air. Nudging my thighs open, he kneels behind me to make good on his promise. I close my eyes and moan almost immediately, at the very first mind-blowing flick of his tongue against my soaked panties. He eases them down and licks me again.

I realize then that I’m in grave danger of losing myself to this man. It scares me. Yet I welcome it. There’s no going back now. I’m already his.