Southern Seduction (73 page)

I rolled to my side so I was facing Wesley. “You told me JR was no good, told me to stay away but you talk to him too. Why?”

“Do you like him Maddie?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you feel like you know him?” Wesley glanced down at my shirt and my naked legs.

I shifted trying to hide more than was possible with JR’s shirt. “I feel like I’m getting there.”

“Good.” Wesley ran his hands through his hair. “Reverse psychology,” he mumbled.

“What?”

“Brayden told you the story, but he didn’t tell you it from my side.” Wesley straightened, looked around and then said, “Come on, let’s go somewhere quieter.”

He opened the door next to JR’s and ushered me in. I kicked off from the railing to follow him in. When I brushed by him I said, “Let’s be fast I don’t want to get caught out of bed.”

Wesley nodded and closed the door behind him. We were inside a rather small empty room, except for two ottomans near a wall. Maybe it was in the process of being renovated or maybe they just ran out of ideas for rooms. I crossed my arms and stared at Wesley, “Let’s hear it.”

“Dang why do ya’ll sound so mad?”

“I don’t care for games.”

“I wasn’t trying for games. Really I wasn’t, but nobody ever listens to me when I’m honest. Even when I was alive nobody listened. I don’t hate JR, okay that ain’t true I did in the first few months after I died …” yep it was always going to be weird talking to the deceased, “… but then when I saw just how much he was beating himself up over something that really was out of his hands … well it became a lot harder to hate him.”

Wesley rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed. “I mean my drug addiction certainly wasn’t JR’s fault but it takes awhile to see your own troubles. And even when you do, you want to blame someone else. Then, one night during one of my aimless wanderings I found him, JR that is, he was wandering along those same trails where he found you, and you’re welcome for that—”

“What are you talking about?” Had Wesley sent JR to find me? Oh god no wondered he’d acted weird later that night in my room.

“Let me finish, I found him there holding my obituary, crying. And I don’t know exactly what happened, divine intervention maybe, but he looked up and he saw me. His eyes went wide and he stepped backwards, stumbled over his own feet and fell. Then he pointed at me and said “Wesley.” Once he got himself together he apologized a hundred more times. It was then I realized it wasn’t his fault and I forgave him. I also decided he’d suffered enough so when you came along and saw me well I figured you and him would be good together.”

I cocked my head, “So you’re saying, because we could both see you, you decided to set us up?”

Wesley nodded, “Not exactly, but maybe.” His voice changed. He’d gone from deep and demanding to quiet and innocent. “That first day you showed up at your dad’s and I walked up to you and said hello … I didn’t expect you to answer. I’ve said hello to hundreds of people no one ever responded until you. You just started talking to me like I was your best friend,” he shook his head and removed his hat, “decided I ought to be, figured I’d help you reconnect with your family.”

Whether it was totally his doing I made up with my family or not, didn’t matter I had. “Thanks,” I said before giving him a hug. He hugged me back.

“You mad?”

I shook my head against his shoulder, “No.”

He squeezed me tighter, “Good.”

When we let go I asked, “Does this mean I won’t see you anymore?”

“Oh no, you’ll see me,” he gave me a wink before turning around and walking to the door, he paused and looked over his shoulder at me, “you’ll both be seeing me,” then he shimmered and disappeared.

I stood there for a minute chewing my nail and thinking. My dad wasn’t perfect but he loved me. Brayden was perfect but he accepted me. And then there was Uncle Ollie … we had a year or more of lost time to make up for. Family stuck by you through thick and thin. Yes, they did. They would be here for me and I would be there for them. I started smiling.

It wasn’t a decision, there was no choice about it. Mom would understand, at least I hoped she did. My smile grew wider and then I was running back to JR’s room. Breathless as I closed his bedroom door behind me. He was still sleeping in the exact same position I’d left him in. I unbuttoned his shirt and let it fall to the floor at the edge of the bed.

Then with as much stealth as I could manage, I climbed under the covers and slid over to where JR’s body was sound asleep. It was time for him to wake up and I knew how to do it. I admired his sleeping face a minute longer before placing a chaste kiss on his cheek. Then another on his neck, and another a little lower and lower until I was placing two small delicate kisses right at that sexy as hell V of his. When I took a little bite of that V, I heard a groan and then he was at attention.

It took a second of my mouth on him before there was another groan. I looked up and saw those grey eyes peering back at me. “Oh damn Maddie,” he said, starting to sit up. I splayed my hand across his chest pressing him back to the mattress. He laid back, his eyes stayed on me, his fingers twined into my hair. His moans fed me on, I loved the sounds of his pleasure.

“Maddie I’m about to—” his words broke and he tried to pull away but I kept going until his hips bucked beneath. ”Oh SHIT Maddie,” he growled. I kept going until he was spent. He shuddered and ran his hands through his hair. I sat up unable to hide my smile. Flustered JR was even sexier than sleeping JR.

I lay back on the pillows still smiling, his grey eyes trained on me. He snaked an arm around my waist pulling me to him. He brushed the hair from my face before kissing me hard and deep to the point my toes curled. When he pulled back he was breathless and smiling. “You said you were only staying for the summer?”

I nodded.

“It’s gonna be one helluva summer.”

I nodded again. No use discussing my intentions of staying indefinitely right now. And there was definitely no reason to discuss my feelings which grew each time I learned a little more about JR. I ran my hand along his cheek, “I see,” he said, and closed his eyes rubbing his cheek against my palm. When he opened his eyes again his stare was intense making me squirm. He moved so he was on top of me looking down into my eyes, “That’s not gonna work.”

I couldn’t manage much more than, “Huh,” with his body pressed against mine.

“One summer, that’s not gonna work for me, I guess I’m gonna have to persuade you to make it more than that.” With that he kissed a trail down my neck and across my chest where he paused, “Like maybe forever.”

I lost my virginity at age thirteen. I know what you're thinking, and the answer is no. I wasn't raped or molested. Nothing horrible happened to me. I didn’t have a daddy complex or a shit life I needed to be rescued from. I just happened to like boys...a lot. I like them all. Tall, short, skinny, buff, light hair, or dark—I don't discriminate. My favorite kind, though, are the ones who like other boys too. Hey! Don't judge. Have you ever seen two completely straight guys making out just because you asked them to? They are willing to do anything to be with you, even if includes sharing you with another man. That's all right in my book.

I realized early on that one man isn't enough for me. It's a simple mathematical fact. Why have one man when you can have two? Any more than two gets complicated. Hell, half the time even two gets complicated. But it’s worth it. Sometimes every woman has to make an exception though—two crappy losers or one fuck-hot man.

The night I laid eyes on Hunter Coy, I made my choice. At least for a little while.

"Lacey!" my best friend, Lydia, screams from across the bar.

I'm chatting up two strong sevens when she catches my attention. I level her with an 'I'm busy!' glare, but her wide eyes have me abandoning my two mediocre sure things and heading her way.

"What the hell, Lydia?" I question her.

"Oh, you're going to want to see this," she says, tipping her beer bottle toward the front entrance of the bar.

Damn if she wasn't right. Walking in is the hottest country boy a drunken redneck sperm ever produced. I don't do cowboy. It's just not my thing. Their jeans are always too tight, and I can't get down with flannel. I purposely avoid county bars like the plague. This is backwoods Georgia, but there are still some places you can go to forget that you are surrounded by hicks. However, if this fine specimen of man is any indication of what I'm missing, I might have a few new hangouts soon.

"Fuck," I unintentionally breathe.

"Please tell me you are going ride that tonight," Lydia whispers, never taking her eyes off the man handing his ID to the bouncer.

"Like a rodeo queen." I continue to stare as he walks into the bar.

He has to be at least six foot one, black hair, and even in the dim light of the bar, I can tell his eyes are dark. I can only hope he is half as dark as the attitude he's giving off. It's been a while since I have taken a bad boy for a ride. His jeans are tight enough to outline his toned thighs, and he's rocking black cowboy boots like it's his fucking job. Oh, he knows every woman in the room is watching him right now, the same way I know there isn't a man here who can peel his eyes away from me.

"I'll be right back." I hand Lydia my beer and make my way over to tonight’s main attraction.

Just as I get within steps from him, he lifts his head and makes direct eye contact. His dark glare levels me and renders me completely unable to move. Damn it, I've never frozen for a man before. He does a quick head-to-toe assessment over my body before turning back to the bar, completely ignoring me.

My sevens catch back up to me and begin pushing me toward the bar. I just need to escape for a minute and figure out what the hell just went down. Cowboy openly judged me and apparently found me lacking. With any other man, I would have marched over, grabbed him by the balls, and made sure he never made that mistake again. However, this guy, well… He has me tucking my tail and walking away. I'm trying to shake off the guys who are urging me back to their table when I hear a deep rasping bark from behind me.

"How old are you?"

"What?" I ask, confused and slightly irritated by his tone. I have no idea who this guy thinks he is, but it’s obvious he thinks pretty highly of himself.

"How old are you?" he repeats very slowly, implying that I'm stupid.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?"

"Hunter Coy, and you are, sugar?"

"Did you just call me sugar?" I snap.

"Do you have a problem with that?"

"Not if you're my ninety-year-old paw paw, but judging by the arrogance that is currently dry humping your overly inflated ego, I'm going to say yes, I very much have a problem with you calling me sugar."

"Is sweetheart any better for you?" he asks, amused by my rant.

"You're getting younger, but you still sound like a sixty-year-old bartender with a bad comb over named Sunny. You may have nice hair now, but with a vocabulary like that, you are only a few years away from asking him for his barber’s name."

He doesn't even try to fight back the laughter. Wouldn't you know his flipping laughing is sexy too?

"Okay, let’s try this again. You know, before I start going gray like your paw paw or start balding like Sunny the bartender. What's your name?" he asks while sporting a crooked grin.

Still annoyed from earlier, I roll my eyes and walk away. I don't make it very far because just a few steps away I come face to face with my worst enemy—my sister, Abby.

"Lacey, you little whore." She reaches forward immediately on the attack.

Luckily, after the last few years, I'm skilled at avoiding her bitchiness. I quickly step to the left as she topples over forward, narrowly missing the sevens. There is no question that she is drunk. Hell, she's always drunk.

I take three giant steps back into the wall. Only it's not a wall at all—it's Hunter fucking Coy.

"You okay, sugar?” He looks down at me with a smirk.

"I've got to get out of here." I speed walk away as fast as my four-inch heels will allow. When I find Lydia, she is trying to ignore some guy she wouldn't even let refill her gas tank if she were stranded on the side of the road. "We need to leave. Abby is here."