Watching You: KJ Elite Inc. (14 page)

I knew when he came upstairs and stood in the doorway, by the way a deep yearning and awareness grew in my tummy. I have always felt him before I saw him, always. It was an electric pull, beckoning me to him. His presence was a small piece of the puzzle that made up my heart and without it, I felt so cold and incomplete.

A knock came on the door while I was in the bathroom brushing my teeth and replaying the image of Tommy naked over and over in my head. Lord he sure looked fine; the years apart had been too damn good to him. If anything, he got better looking.

The jerk.

Another knock and then the door swung open.

Well, well, well, thinking of the devil...

“Why didn’t you answer when I knocked?” He asked annoyed, looking around.

“Uhh...” I couldn’t exactly speak so I just pointed to my mouth, my toothbrush hanging out, shooting him a look like he was clearly an idiot.

“You could have spit and said something.”

So I turned back to the hers, of his and hers, sink, spit, rinsed and turned back to him, saluting comically.

“Sorry sir, I’ll make sure to be much quicker next time, sir.”

He stared at me, quiet, nearly fuming. Served him right. I should be angry that he was giving me the most amazing orgasms of my life in my dreams but only snarled at me in real world time.

“Is there something you needed?”

“I wanted to know what you want for dinner tonight.”

“That is what was so damn important?” My mouth may have hung open a minute.

“You need to eat.”

Now he sounded like our mama’s.

“Pass. I’m feeling a little sick.”

I walked around him, making sure not to touch him.

“What’s wrong?”

He caught me instantly and put one hand on the small of my back pulling me to him with no effort. With his spare hand, he put his wrist to my forehead, feeling for a temperature.

“Nothing, I just don’t feel like going anywhere tonight. I’m a little tired and could use a whiskey induced nap.”

“A little tired is an understatement. The bags under your eyes are weighing your whole body down.”

“Thanks, you look fantastic yourself.”

My face twisted into a sour expression of disparagement. What was it with the men of my life telling me how shitty I looked?

I crawled back into bed and he stood there, still as a statue, watching me with a suspicious eye.

“Ought I to get your mama over here?”

He wouldn’t dare.

“Ought I to hurt you? Keep everyone out. That’s your job, isn’t it?”

I waved my hand dismissively and closed my eyes, trying my hardest not to grin, knowing the wave would have royally irked him.

He mumbled something incoherent and walked out, half slamming the door.

I sighed to myself, rolling over and grabbing the bottle of whiskey. Who needs a glass?

The whole week we had been here, I spent making a very solid effort not to touch the drink, but I was about at my wits end and couldn’t stand being ignored by my supposed husband anymore or worrying when my mother would find out I was a three to five minute walk or drive away. I still hadn’t told them and I was trying to hold off as long as possible. When Matt wasn't visiting with me, he enjoyed his time off learning how to farm with Noah.

I looked to my hand and said, “Oh hello, Jim. You’re always there when I need you.” I took a long pull from the bottle and immediately regretted my actions.

“Yech!” I spat, dragging my tongue up the hoodie sleeve.

Mental note, whiskey and toothpaste - worse than orange juice. Holy crap!

After drinking myself halfway to a Whiskey Lullaby ending, I had passed out and awoke with a start in the pitch black of the night, tangled completely in the sheets and blanket. I heard someone shift beside the bed and instinct kicked in. Apparently I went with fight instead of flight and reached for my guardian, under the pillows.

“What the fuck, what the fuck?” Panic unwillingly bled into my voice.

I threw all the pillows and found no gun but found an abundance of fleeting courage. Then my gut gave me that twisty feeling of near completion. Apparently it was there, with a fight, through the alcohol induced haze.

“Don’t worry, its right here.” He stated in a soothing tone from the shadows of the room.

Tommy lit up the oil lantern, basking the room in a soft glow. He was sitting on a rocking chair just watching over me, or so it would appear. Maybe it was just me but seeing a man in jeans and barefoot...hot damn. Throw in some brooding with a side of protective and I was instantly damp.

“Why did you take it?” I asked, a lot less tense knowing who was here and where my gun was.

“Don’t want you to shoot me. I prefer having an ass to sit on.”

I laughed openly. “You’re joking right?”

Though he did have one hell of an ass. The perfect bubble butt; a butt girls paid big bucks for.

“Do I look like it?”

No, he didn’t, actually.

“Why on God’s green earth would I shoot you?” Apparently I looked stupid but he didn’t elaborate, not really.

He just shrugged. “Plenty of reasons.”

The glow upon his face and body, cast half of him in total shadow, but I could tell how big he was. My lady parts awoke and slipped right into a puddle.

Now, remember that whole I’ll do something stupid later thing? Yep, let it commence.

Finding my legs and untangling myself, I followed the liquid courage streaming through my body; I stood and walked to him. If liquid courage is available, always go with that.

“What are you doing?” He asked me, unmoving, a rasp to his deep voice.

“Whatever I want.”

I managed to sashay over to him without stumbling, tripping or making a fool of myself. Dressed in only a hoodie and lacy bikini cut panties, I was feeling pretty sexy at this point.

“You always did.” He laughed faintly and looked me up and down.

That look though. Like I was his final meal for a starving man.

So much for not seeming desperate.

“Why do you keep walking away from me?” I asked standing before him, hands down at my sides and gripping the bottom of the hoodie. “You’ll give a girl a complex.”

“You’re no girl, Annie and you’re the one who walked away.” Did he have to keep repeating it? I was there, I know what happened.

“I’m here now.”

I placed my hands on the arms of the rocking chair and balanced my weight, sliding my legs between the openings on either side of his lap, settling down on top of him.

He looked into my eyes and placed his hands on my waist, not pulling me in but holding me back.

“You’re drunk, Tay.”

Duh, what good would it be when I was sober and too tempted to knee him again. This need I felt for him, burned and swallowed me whole. I wanted to slap him silly, knock him right on his ass but at the same time, I wanted to kiss, lick, and touch every square inch of his hard body; I wanted to torture him. Every single emotion and movement seemed to be made by someone else. This was an inner battle that I couldn’t control; the need to make him hurt like I had, but to make it all better afterward, it was insane. Knowing I should just stay on the offensive and leave him alone until this blew over was biting at my conscience, but I knew that whenever and wherever Tommy was concerned, would be my undoing, every single time, until the end of time. He was my kryptonite and he was only illuminated by the bright glow of the amber liquid.

“So? I’m already embarrassed and ashamed enough, why not?”

I forgot how Jim also forced me into speaking the truth without actually knowing what you were saying until it tumbled out.

“What could you possibly have to be embarrassed or ashamed about?”

The look on Tommy’s face spoke of honest confusion and a dash of disbelief.

“Let’s start with the fact that my own husband doesn’t want a thing to do with me. Sexually or otherwise.”

“Is that what you think?” His brows came together.

I nodded in the dark, chewing on my bottom lip.

His grip tightened on my waist almost painfully and he pulled me forward, pressing my sex against his rock hard erection.

“Does that feel like I don’t want you?” He grated out through clenched teeth, fighting for control.

His resolve was slipping, that much was clear, even in my drunken haze.

I shook my head and let it fall back, moving my hips to rub up and down against him. I moaned from memory’s rushing forward and such close contact.

Tommy’s inhale was sharp and quick, making me all the more ready. His hands moved to my ass and he pushed down harder.

“Fuck, I can’t do this when you’re drunk Taylor. It’s not right.” I could actually feel the wall he put back up.

He shook his head and I shook back at him, running my hands up his chest, under his shirt. There really wasn’t a finer feeling than all that ripped muscle, stretching beneath my palms, silky and tough.

“Don’t think about it.” I whispered so low I wasn’t even sure he heard me.

Lowering my head and letting go of my own lip, I pulled his in, nibbling lightly.

Rocking against each other, he slipped his tongue in my mouth, and slid one hand up inside my sweater while the other gripped my ass.

He groaned into my mouth when he found nothing but skin; taking my breast in his hand, he began kneading and rolling my nipple between his thumb and forefinger, expertly. Everything he did to me seemed to be done expertly, knowingly, like not one day had passed since I had been in his arms. We kissed like we would die if we couldn’t meld any tighter together. I needed him inside me like I needed my next breathe and I would lose my mind if I didn’t get him.

I’m quite certain my eyes had just disappeared into the back of my head when his cell phone ring pierced the silence of the room, halting our movements. It vibrated again my leg and I knew he’d have to take it.
Cursing, he picked me up and stood me in front of him, then pulled his phone from his pocket and answered. His eyes hovered at the hem of the hoodie which was riding high just below my newly uncovered, slick sex. My new underwear lay ripped at his feet. Well, that was a surprise. I didn’t even realize it was missing until I saw it laying there. Without meaning to, a lazy grin spread across my face, painting me pleased. Almost as if his eyes guided me there, my fingers slid to my core and I rubbed myself, teasing him, daring him to come and replace my fingers with his.

“What?” He snapped into the phone mic.

“Grouchy are we?” The voice taunted.

“What do you want?”

“Wow, you need to get laid.”

When he just ground his teeth, I fought desperately with myself not to giggle. I watched him intently beneath my hooded eyes, assuming it was one of his brothers making him so annoyed.

“Alright, look, I think we might have a lead on who this fuck face is, but we also have a little dilemma.” That caught my attention, and I stopped touching myself.

“Like what?” He barked and a new light was lit through his eyes. I couldn’t tell if it was from being turned on to a scorching degree or from his newly developed fury. I reached out to run my fingers through his hair unconsciously remembering how it calmed it. His eyes closed and he leaned into my hand so minutely, I would not have even been able to tell if I wasn’t studying his every move.

After a brief moment of silence, what sounded like Lucas, asked, “How is Tay holding up?”

TJ simply grunted and Luke took the cue.

“Asta.”

He hung up and ran his own fingers through his longer than normal hair, then he placed the phone on the nightstand and I queried, “Who was that?”

“Luke.”

So I was right.

“Is there any news?” I already knew – Luke was not the quietest of talkers.

“Yeah, you.” He looked back up into my eyes, fire still blazing.

I looked at him curiously and still a little, okay a lot, inebriated. At first I thought it was a sexual pun but then I saw his expression intensify with a wildness.

“Wait, what?”

“Apparently some arrogant fuck stick thinks he should seek you out and employ the media to assist in his search.”

“Sorry, I-I’m confused.” I shook my head animatedly trying to sober myself up a bit.

“That Hollywood boyfriend of yours is chasing after you and pretty damn hard. He held an interview where he stated that if anyone spotted you, he wanted to be the first to know if you were safe. Or something to that effect.”

Thinking on his words, I mumbled, “Oh, Jason” exasperatedly and noticed how Tommy tensed up.

“Lucas said there are reporters or paparazzi or whatever the hell they are, lurking around town and looking for dirt.”

“All of this is so messed up. How do they even know my real name or where I’m from?”

“That’s their job Tay. You didn’t exactly leave without a trace; if we had extracted you like planned, no one would have been able to track you down – well, not this easily or quickly. I’d bet lefty that you jumped in Bessie and punched it until you pulled up out front.” Psh, like he knew me. I rolled my eyes on the inside and stomped a foot. Damnit.