Authors: Karen-Anne Stewart
A half hour later, we’re back in the van and going through a drive thru. Jensen’s in the driver’s seat again and my cheeks flush when I look over at him and he grins, like it was me who made him have the orgasm of his life…twice. And with just that one thought, my eyes immediately drop to his lap, causing the scarlet blush to blaze until I can feel the heat simmering on my cheeks and liquefying in places lower. I can’t help but wonder what it would feel like tasting every inch of Jensen’s hardened body before he makes love to me.
Andy clears his throat, and I snap my eyes back to the road, wishing I had a cold beer and maybe a cold shower, but that only leads to more deliciously wanton thoughts.
“You guys set the sheets on fire last night, didn’t you?” Andy cracks, raising his brow while slapping the back of Jensen’s shoulder.
“No,” I respond too quickly, and he eyes Jensen.
“Knock it off, Andy,” Jensen warns.
“You definitely did something. Princess’ cheeks are cherry red.”
“Andy!” Jensen’s growl deepens.
I can feel Andy’s understanding when he shuts his mouth. Now, if I could just figure out what meaning he just caught. Men say we’re hard to read, but even with my advantage, Andy still confuses the hell out of me.
Barely twenty minutes pass and Andy pops his head between the seats, “I’m bored and hungry.”
“Here,” I pull a granola bar from my bag.
“That will do nothing to satisfy me and will only make me thirsty.”
“Is he always like this?” I ask.
Jensen chuckles, “Yep. Pretty much.”
“Oh, like you exude daisies and chocolate, Princess Bitchy. If you’re not opening your big mouth, you’re busting someone else’s,” Andy pouts.
“Only the ones who are annoying,” I reply sweetly, batting my lashes and smiling.
“You should see what she does to the ones who really piss her off,” Jensen jokes.
“I have a pretty good idea. My nose is still sore.”
Jensen bursts into laughter, “That’s what you get for taping her to a chair, dumbass. I’m surprised you’re not one nut short now.”
“His nuts are perfectly safe. I have no desire to go anywhere near them,” I grimace.
“Only in your dreams, princess,” Andy smirks. “Can you at least turn on the radio?”
“If it will shut you up – yes.” Playing with the radio, I find a rock station and quietly sing along, getting lost in a Pink song when Jensen squeezes my hand.
He’s quiet, but I can tell he’s wanting to ask me something by the way his eyes soften when he looks at me. I love the way he does that. I’ve never seen him look at anyone else that way. Amira pops inside my head, along with all of the other girls he’s had, and it hurts like hell thinking he might have looked at them that way.
“Where’s your violin, Saige?” He finally asks.
“I don’t play anymore,” I answer softly, looking out the window at the passing cars.
He doesn’t let me off that easily. I didn’t expect he would. “You loved the violin. Did you stop playing because of me?”
I pause, not sure of how to answer, especially when his words are tinted with regret. “I just lost the desire.”
The way his jaw twitches when he slowly swallows shows he’s calling my bullshit. “Don’t let what happened take that from you.” His voice is soft, caring, “You love to play, and you can say what you want about your abilities but you can’t deny that your talent with the violin is nothing short of a gift.”
I remain silent. My curse is the reason I gave up my gift. Partly, anyway. Mostly, it was because thinking about playing reminded me of Jensen and how much it hurt that he was gone.
“That video I took of you and sent in with the application for the music school was just you playing around on your violin. They responded with an acceptance letter in the same week.” He shakes his head, his blonde hair hanging at the edge of his eye. “I wanted so much more for you than the assholes at school and your parents. You deserve to be happy and appreciated for your talents – all of them – and you deserve to be treated with respect. I wanted that for you at the new school.”
“You play the violin?” Andy asks, and I can feel his intrigue.
“She’s amazing,” Jensen proudly proclaims.
The compliment tints my cheeks again, but it’s the love and sincerity in his eyes that heals my heart.
“The violin is so elegant and sophisticated, though. You’re….you.”
“Shut-up, Andy,” I laugh.
Jensen nods his head towards his best friend, “Andy plays the piano.”
“I played when I was younger. I never got into it even though my teacher tried to get me to continue.” He gives a lopsided grin, “Apparently, that’s just another area where I possess abundant talent.”
“I’m amazed by how you keep all that bullshit contained in such a tiny spot.” I tap his head, “Careful it doesn’t leak and start shrinking other parts more than they already are.”
He goes to give a smartass remark but I shove the granola bar in his mouth. “You could’ve at least removed the wrapper,” he mumbles, ripping it off.
The snack seems to satisfy him for a while because his mouth stays shut. Jensen’s quiet for a long time as well. I know why. It’s for the same reason I’m not opening my mouth. Old desires are stirring back to life, making my fingers ache to play again. Closing my eyes, I let the warmth of the sunshine spilling through the window soothe me as the notes to the music I used to play fill my head. Other than Jensen, my violin was my only source of happiness.
“That smile looks familiar.” Jensen’s low, masculine voice awakens parts of me he wore out last night and this morning. The tingling heat revives my readiness for another round.
“Familiar?” I open one eye to peer over at him. But one is nowhere near enough to enjoy the full impact of how handsome he is. Those piercing green eyes sweep across my face and I take my time drinking him in, my smile growing bigger when the sinful thoughts of his firm, speckled jaw remind me of how the whiskered roughness felt as it brushed against my thighs and
there
.”
“You want to play,” he grins.
I do. I want to play in the way he’s meaning and in so many other ways.
“You never said where your violin is, Saige.”
My smiles fades. “My parent’s house.” And there goes his smile, too. Any mention of my parents is pretty much a guaranteed joy killer. Not wanting to think about my mother or father or how much they despise me, I turn up the radio and fixate my gaze out the side window.
Jensen takes the hint and doesn’t push for any more answers.
Five hours later, and with a desperate need to pee, I end up joining ranks with Andy and ask for Jensen to make a stop. The air is a stifling ninety degrees in whatever town we’ve stopped at in New Mexico. Andy immediately searches for food while I take care of necessities and window shop at a little strip of boutiques. I jump when two arms wrap around my waist and pull me backwards.
“Easy, pretty girl,” Jensen breathes against my ear, kissing me on the sensitive part of my neck that nearly reduces me to purrs and putty in his hands.
“It’s so not fair that I can’t feel you coming.”
“Oh, you’re going to feel me coming. Hard. Hot. Repeatedly. Very soon.”
Laughing, I slip my body around in his arms while he never lets me go. “That’s not what I meant, but I’m holding you to your promise.”
“I love to hear you laugh.” The way he looks at me is the best feeling in the world. Even when he’s talking trash, he treats me like I’m something special. His mouth lowers to mine, stopping when his lips are just brushing the fullest part of my bottom lip, “And, I never break my promise. Not anymore.”
Losing myself in his kiss, I slide my hands in his back pockets, pressing my body against his. His fingers tangle in my hair as he pulls me closer until I’m wonderfully crushed against him. The way he feels is perfect, from his tight abs to the comforting strength of his muscular arms surrounding me. At six feet, he’s not the tallest, just the right height, and proportioned to make almost any woman swoon. The looks of longing and lust he got back in high school made all the other guys jealous. Not to mention, every girl jealous that he was with me. My self-esteem wasn’t so low that it was unhealthy, but, for the life of me, I have no idea why he chose me.
Me.
All I know is, I’ll be grateful for the rest of my life that he did. And that he chose me again.
“Andy found a taqueria around the corner. You hungry?”
My stomach growls in response. “Starving.”
My fingers spread naturally in his when he takes my hand. It’s the simple things like the feel of Jensen’s hand holding mine that I missed so much. The aroma of cilantro, lime, and peppers makes my mouth water when we round the corner.
Andy’s already in line and calls to us, asking what we want.
Jensen places his hand on the small of my back, letting me order first. “Tacos de pastor with haberno salsa, please.”
“That’s going to set your mouth on fire. This I have to see,” Andy laughs.
“That’s why I’m going to order a milkshake at the ice cream shop.”
“Tacos and a milkshake?” Andy grimaces.
“It sounds disgusting, but it’s really good,” Jensen states.
“That’s just the love talking, man. Don’t worry, you’ll come back to your senses soon.”
“Don’t be such a hater and try it,” I challenge.
Andy shakes his head, “No, thanks. I’m sticking with a cold beer to go with mine. You can enjoy your nasty combos all on your own.”
The line moves and Jensen quickly chooses the beef nachos, three shrimp tacos, and a soda, since he’s driving.
My jaw drops when Andy orders our food in fluent Spanish. At least it sounds fluent; the only thing I know how to say in Spanish is how to ask to use the bathroom, and I’m not so sure I even remember that.
Jensen catches my expression and chuckles, “Andy’s grandmother is originally from Mexico. She lives with his parents, so Andy spoke both Spanish and English growing up.”
“God love his family. They had to listen to that mouth talking their heads off in two languages.”
“I heard that,” Andy smirks. “I told you I’m talented, a total Papi Chulo.”
We burst out laughing and I shake my head, pushing Andy away. I think it’s pretty cool he’s bilingual but there’s no way I’m going to encourage him to talk any more than he already does, even if I have always thought Spanish is a beautiful language. Memories of my grandfather tug the corners of my lips up. I can still hear him speaking in Italian. I loved when he would visit and tuck me in. Even though he knew I had no idea what he was saying, he would still always switch to his native language when he would say the good night prayers. His was the first death I sensed. When Nonno was gone, so was his love, my hope, and the prayers. I gained two of those back that day on the playground when Jensen came into my life.
Pushing memories and my failing faith aside, I go to get my chocolate shake as Jensen and Andy find a table. There’s an array of food spread on it when I get back. How they stay so fit, looking as good as they do eating like that, baffles me as much as it makes me jealous. I go to take a seat, but grief swallows my soul again and I place my hands on the table.
“I know that look, Saige,” Jensen rushes, taking my chin in his hand and pulling it to where he can look at me. “What are you feeling right now?”
“What’s wrong?” Andy questions.
“I don’t know yet.”
Jensen glances around before he looks at me again. I see his confusion as much as I feel mine.
“It’s gone,” I state, the despair fading before death gives me a hint of who it’s planning to take this time.
“Can someone please tell me what’s going on now?” Andy’s questioning eyes dart between Jensen and me, and I just shake my head.
Jensen gives him a nod and another one of those shared man moments that I can’t figure out, but Andy seems satisfied now.
I push my milkshake towards Andy. “Give it a try. C’mon, just one sip,” I tease, trying to get back to the carefree moment we had a few minutes ago.
Andy crinkles his nose but takes a bite of his taco then a gulp of my chocolate shake. His mouth stops moving and he looks like he’s going to spew before he finally swallows in a completely dramatic show. “Holy crap, woman. That’s the nastiest thing I’ve ever had in my mouth,” Andy gripes as he glues his eyes to the full backside of a passing woman.
“You just don’t have good taste buds, and I highly doubt what you said is even close to the truth.”
“What happened to the whole bit about southern girls being all sweet and charming? You’re single-handedly blowing that stereotype all to hell, princess.”
“At least I don’t have grandiose delusions thinking I’m something that I’m not,
Papi Chulo.”
Jensen’s soda spews across the table as he tries not to choke from laughing so hard.
“That girl of yours is just mean, man,” Andy grumbles, but I feel his good-natured cheerfulness.
Clouds begin to darken the sky as we finish lunch. Jensen opens the door to the van for me as Andy climbs into the back for a nap since we’ve decided to not stop at a hotel tonight and Andy’s going to take the night shift driving.