Becoming a Jett Girl (The Bourbon Series) (32 page)

BOOK: Becoming a Jett Girl (The Bourbon Series)
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I leaned over and patted Jett on the cheek, “Oh how little you know, dear sir.”

I pulled out the napkin I’d shoved down the front of my dress as a bib and wiped my mouth before crumpling it and throwing it down on my plate.
 

Jett just shook his head and said, “Quite the lady you are.”

“Hey, just be happy I’m not picking my damn teeth with my fork right now.”

Jett gestured with his arm, “By all means, pick away. It would go right along with your napkin fashion statement.”

“Why Jett Colby, you are truly showing your inner snob right now and it’s not the least bit flattering.”

A brief flash of pain crossed his face as he took in my statement. I was about to say I was only kidding when he waved his hand for the check and pulled out his phone. “I need to make a call, I’ll be back.”

At that moment, I was jolted out of the infatuation haze that I had been in ever since I saw Jett leaning against his car back at the house. I wondered if I’d said something wrong, if my comment actually hurt him. I was only kidding, but clearly he didn’t get it with the way he fled the table, as if I had dragon breath and he couldn’t stand to be around me anymore.
 

Questioning my state of breath after raw oysters, I cautiously blew into my hand and took a quick sniff. Not minty fresh, but not a shit mouth either…alright, couldn’t be the breath. I pulled out my compact and took a look at my face and didn’t find any stray boogers or eye goops.
 

Sooo…it must have been my comment. Now feeling guilty, I waited impatiently for Jett to come back to the table. He was a hard man to read. At one point, he was tenderly kissing my shoulders, my cheek, my hand, but then the next minute he was retreating, physically and emotionally. I was getting mixed signals and, frankly, didn’t know what to do about it.
 

A part of me wanted to throw caution into the wind and press my lips against his and take what I wanted. It wasn’t lost on me that he hadn’t kissed me on the lips yet. I could see that he wanted to, but he never did…which, being a woman with needs, his limited action were driving me crazy, as if he was doing it on purpose. Fucker.

I saw him walk back as he looked down at his phone with a crinkle in his forehead.

“Everything okay?”

“Yes.” He sat down and grabbed the check the waiter left. He put more than enough cash in the black check folder and got up.
 

The mood between us dramatically changed and I didn’t know what to do to make it better. I felt stupid for saying something that wasn’t to his liking. I felt almost ignorant for not knowing how to act like a “lady” around him. I knew the bib napkin was a little much, but I didn’t want oyster juice all over my pretty dress.

I threw the strap of my purse over my shoulder and fiddled with my dress before I stood up. The minute I looked up, Jett was at my side, holding his hand out for me.
 

I gripped his hand with mine, not knowing what to say or how to react as he pulled me up next to his body. I raised my hand to his cheek and said, “I’m sorry if I offended you…”

“You didn’t. I’m sorry I freaked out for a second. You were right, I was showing my inner snob to you and it was the last thing I wanted to do, to make you feel less than me because that is not even close to the truth. You are so far above me in so many ways; it’s not right for me to make you feel less.”

I snorted, not meaning to offend him. “I am, by no means, above you. Hell, I used to have sex for money.”

The side of Jett’s cheek clenched as he took in my words. “I am aware and that won’t be happening again, especially now that you are mine.”

We were walking out of the restaurant when he casually said I was his. I pulled on his hand that was holding mine and looked him in the eyes. “Jett, what is this?”

“What is what?” he asked, seriously perplexed.
 

His car pulled up to the curb and the man who met us at the beginning of our date now opened the door for me and shut it for me as Jett got in the driver side.
 

I thought about dropping the subject, but the inner annoying girl in me was starting to come out, thanks to a couple of drinks…so I asked again, “What is going on between us?”

Smoothly, Jett pulled out into the streets and started working his way toward the Garden District, indicating that our night was over.
 

“I still don’t understand? Do you want a definition of our relationship?”

“Well, I guess so…”

“That was made clear when you signed the papers to be a Jett Girl in training. Do you need to go over them again?”

The cold Jett Colby had reappeared, putting me in my place. It was foolish of me to think that there was a possibility of something else going on between us, even though at times it felt like Jett wanted more, like he wanted me, needed me for more than just a booty call at night. I guess I was reading him wrong.
 

“No, that’s okay,” I responded, as I looked out the side of the car, watching the dim lights of the city pass by. We rode in silence for the rest of our date and what felt like forever was only minutes until we pulled into the driveway of the house.
 

I opened my door, not waiting for Jett to open it, not wanting him to open it. Why would I, if we were only bound by a contract? I walked toward the house as Jett called out my name.
 

“Goldie, where do you think you’re going?”

“To my room,” I replied, not turning back around.
 

I heard him walking toward me and my brain was telling me to keep going, but my treacherous body didn’t move.
 

“We’re not done here. I have something else planned for us,” he said right next to my ear, sending a chill up my body.
 

“I’m not in the mood for the Bourbon Room, Jett,” I lied.
 

“I’m not talking about the Bourbon Room.” His hands ran up my arms and he gently turned me around. His eyes were laced with insecurity as he said, “Come with me.”

Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t say no. There was no way of denying him what he wanted when he looked at me like that. His soulful eyes had a power over me that was unmistakable; he owned me.
 

I nodded my head as he led me up a back set of stairs that ran up the outside of the house. Once we got to the top, there was an old Crosley record player set up next to a picnic basket, a mini telescope, and an assorted mountain of blankets.
 

He turned to me and said, “Will you join me?”

I couldn’t help but smile as I nodded my head. “I never took you for a star gazer.”

“I’m not,” he said matter-of-factly as he helped me down onto one of the cushioned blankets. “You’d be surprised at the things people do, not thinking they’re being watched.”

I threw my head back and laughed. “You’re a peeping Tom, a Pervy McPerv-ee-son, you are a total creeper.”

He shrugged nonchalantly and said, “Guilty,” with no hint of embarrassment.
 

He sat down on the blanket after he turned on the music to some classic New Orleans jazz. Once he settled, he said, “This won’t do.”

“What won’t do?”

He dragged me over in front of him so I was nestled between his legs and leaned against his chest.
 

“Much better,” he said into my ear. “Are you cold?”

Ha! More like my pussy was on fire from the way he kept whispering seductively into my ear, but I didn’t say that. Instead, I just shook my head no.
 

“If you get cold, let me know. There are plenty of blankets. I don’t need my little one freezing her nipples off.”

I laughed as he grabbed the picnic basket and pulled out a bottle of wine and two glasses.
 

“Now listen, I have seen you drink and the effect it has on you, so I am limiting you to one glass, I don’t need you making out with any girls or speaking into your shoe, calling me vagina face.”

I whipped my head around and said, “Vagina face? What are you talking about?”

He laughed to himself and said, “Remind me to show you some security footage later.”

“Oh Jesus. Can’t wait to see how big of an ass I made of myself that night.”

“I got a good laugh out of it.”

“Glad I could entertain.” He handed me a glass and I took it, making sure to take small sips, unlike the normal gulps I was accustomed to. “So, who are we going to spy on first?”

Jett picked up his telescope and popped off the lens cover. “Let’s see if the Mastersons are up right now.” He looked straight ahead and I could feel the vibration of his chuckle against my back as he studied what was in front of us.
 

“What?” I asked, completely curious.
 

“Looks like Mr. Masterson is practicing his scarf dancing again. Damn, you are going to get a good show.”

“Ooo, let me see.”

He handed me the telescope and pointed me in the right direction. It took me a couple of seconds to focus because, once he let go of the telescope, he wrapped his arms around my body and rested his chin on my shoulder. I tried not to think about the intimate position we were in, but it was hard not to when I had his strong body wrapped around me.
 

“Do you see him?” he asked, as he snapped me out of my haze.

Pushing back my thoughts, I focused on what was coming through the telescope. There was a balding man, who was significantly overweight, with man-fupa and titties almost bigger than mine prancing around a classically decorated living room, flinging scarves around like a damn belly dancer.
 

I pulled away and said, “That is so wrong on so many levels and, frankly, it disturbs me that you watch this.”

“Just keep watching,” Jett said, as he tickled my side.
 

“Knock that off,” I said, as I tried to focus.
 

My eye caught something that kept reflecting light, but I couldn’t tell what it was.
 

“What is that…?”

“Keep looking,” Jett encouraged, while placing light kisses around my neck.
 

“If you are trying to turn me on by me watching Mr. Tubby over there make it rain with his dance moves, then you have the completely wrong idea.”

Laughing, Jett said, “Just keep watching.”

I rolled my eyes and returned to my post. I kept seeing the glimmer of something reflect off of the lights in his place, but for the life of me I couldn’t figure it out until I saw who I assumed was Mrs. Masterson walk into the room. She was also a well-fed lady with a sizeable bush that, frankly, it looked like she was proud of. I guess I would be proud of that forest too if I let it spread to the sides of my thighs.
 

“That’s some impressive lap broccoli Mrs. Masterson has going on,” I commented as I continued to stare.

“Shit,” Jett chuckled, “You owe me for that visual.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll make it up to you.” I paused for a second and then continued, “What the hell are they doing? And why does Mrs. Masterson have a fishing pole?”

The minute “fishing pole” came out of my mouth, she whipped it back and then cast the rod right at Mr. Masterson’s manhood. I saw her hook snatch and grab ahold of something, signaling to her that it was time to reel in her catch. She was now sitting on the couch as Mr. Masterson started walking toward her.
 

“What the fuck…is that a…aww fucking Christ,” I said as I pulled away as Jett started laughing from the pit of his belly. I looked back through the telescope and confirmed that Mr. Masterson had, in fact, pierced his dick and had a hoop going through his flesh that Mrs. Masterson hooked her fishing line on and reeled in her catch, which only led her to start sucking her husband off.
 

“I think I might puke.” I turned around and playfully whacked Jett in the chest. “Why would you make me watch that?”

He was still laughing as I downed my glass of wine. “I get another glass for that shit. What is wrong with you?”

He was wiping tears from his eyes. “Quite the fisherman, Mrs. Masterson is, don’t you think?”

“I hate you.”

I started to get up, but Jett grabbed me and pulled me down on his chest as he lay down. My belly pressed against his and our faces were mere inches apart.
 

“You don’t hate me,” he said with a smile.
 

“Don’t be so sure of yourself.”

His hands ran up to my face as he looked me in the eyes. The laughing was completely gone as he stroked my cheeks with his thumbs, making me revel in the way he so gently touched me, making me think that there was the possibility that there might be more to us than just a Jett Girl contract.
 

He glanced down at my lips and my stomach churned at the thought of him actually kissing me. I instantly started to get nervous as he lowered my head down to his and carefully placed a whisper of a kiss across my lips. The contact was so light that I thought for a second we didn’t even touch, but when he went back for second helpings, I knew that we did.
 

BOOK: Becoming a Jett Girl (The Bourbon Series)
13.92Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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