Last Call (14 page)

Oh, fuck! I really hope she’s not talking about
the
Cain Management.

“Cain, as in Jason Cain?” I ask, knowing what the answer is but needing to hear it from her mouth.

“Of course, silly! He’s been sought after for the last six months as he’s been transitioning out of his old contract and shopping for a new firm to represent him. I’ve been working round the clock to secure his business, and finally, he agreed to go with our firm today. My boss practically kissed me when Jason left. It. Was. Awesome! When his old contract is up, we will make the deal and I will get a bonus. I’m pretty amazing!” Giselle pats herself on the back and smiles with pride. She moves into the kitchen, pulling glasses from the cupboard and filling them with wine.

What the hell? How am I supposed to react to that? I need to keep my private life away from what Jason and I have, but now it seems to be knocking on each other’s doorstep. However, Jason never met Giselle prior to their business meetings, so he wouldn’t know we are friends. Would he? 

“Although, Mariah”—Giselle turns to me, handing me a glass of red wine—“he did ask me about you.”

Fuck! I thought too soon.

Inwardly, I am smiling and dancing in the streets because Jason Cain just asked about me. He is interested beyond what we have already established, isn’t he? These are the conversations I want to have with my friends, but per my agreement with Jason, I choose to keep my mouth closed.

As nonchalantly as possible, I ask, “Oh, yeah? How does he know we are friends? It’s not like I introduced you when we were at the club.”

“He remembers seeing Shelby and me when you guys hooked up that night. I think he’s sweet on you. You should have seen the way his eyes lit up when he said your name.”

I proceed to guzzle down the wine, desperately needing the drink. I don’t want them to find out about us. They can’t know. I’m not sure why, but it just feels wrong. I don’t want their judgment or concern, yet I can never keep things from my friends.

“Jason’s sweet on one thing we know of!” Shelby crudely interjects. I return her comment with a slap to the back of her arm. “What? Damn! It should be flattering he wants your ass, not only once, but twice.”

While I roll my eyes and finish drinking my glass of wine, Giselle thankfully changes the subject and asks Shelby about her new relationship. I take the opportunity to zone out and think about what Giselle has said and my newly realized feelings. In the back of my mind, I always felt there was going to be something different about Jason’s and my relationship, yet I couldn’t fight my attraction toward it. He was open and honest with me, giving me a rare glimpse of his loneliness and maybe he sensed mine, as well. We don’t really talk about anything unless it has to do with us coordinating a date and time to meet up; therefore, I wouldn’t know for sure.

There’s something unsettling about our relationship now. It’s been four weeks since we’ve made our arrangement, and I have enjoyed every second of our time together, but is that enough? Will a relationship like ours be enough? And if it’s not, will he be willing to make it more? Do I want more with Jason? The questions are all consuming and knotting up my stomach into a tight ball.

I snap back to the conversation when Shelby cracks me on the arms, pulling me from my thoughts. “Where’d you go, dude?”

I simply shake my head and smile then move to the kitchen to pour my second glass of wine. I cannot think of Jason anymore. He should only be in my thoughts when I want to get my next earth shattering orgasm. I need to simply put him out of my mind. What we have now is good. It’s perfect, actually, and I can’t let my girly, romantic desire screw that up.

M
ariah

S
mitty’s has taken on a life of its own over the last month ever since a few offices opened up around the corner. The lunch rush is exactly that, a rush. We are busy by eleven and swamped by noon. I am always scurrying around to take orders and deliver food to the patrons, but now it’s not just old regulars; it’s men and women eating a quick bite before they go back to work.

Howard, the owner, has got to be raking in the dough. Paul and I are making a generous amount in tip money and have begun to wager more. For example, there’s this man who comes in everyday and orders a bacon cheeseburger with extra mayo and ketchup. Our bet is to see how many times this man will drip the saucy combo on his white shirt and then curse under his breath. It never fails, the moment he bites into his sandwich, a little will drip from the bun and onto his shirt. I really like working with Paul. He’s like the crazy uncle I never had.

Every Friday we are slammed from the time we start serving lunch until after three in the afternoon. My feet are killing me and I’m exhausted by the time I slip away to use the restroom and check my phone, seeing if I’ve missed a text message from Jason. My heart flutters slightly as I hold my breath. It happens every single time I see Cock-a-doodle-do scrolled across my screen.

Jason: Missing you.

Me: Missing what, exactly?

Jason: For starters, your perfect tits in my mouth
.

I flush. I love it when he puts my breasts in his mouth. There is something about his tongue my nipples crave. He is very comfortable sexting me now, and does it all the time during the day. He knows I’m busy, but it doesn’t stop him.

Me: Sounds intriguing.

Jason: Let me show you how much I’m missing you. What time do you get off work?

Me: Seven

Jason: See you then.

And just like that, Jason has swooped in and taken me over. He barely said anything and I fell into his trap, wanting to be a part of his world. I will be with him after I get off work then, fifteen minutes after we have sex, I will be in my car and on my way home. This is the routine we’ve developed. I shake my head over what’s to come and fix myself in the mirror.

I walk out of the back door exactly at seven-fifteen and find the black escalade parked next to my old Chrysler. The SUV has become my sanctuary of sexual desire. Lately, I’ve been spending more and more time inside, falling victim to anything Jason subjects me to. I walk behind the car and open the back passenger door. Sitting on the cool, leather seats is the man who’s been the focus of my life behind my son.

Jason looks dangerously sexy, wearing a pair of khaki cargo shorts and a plain, black T-shirt. His short, black stubble is groomed around his cheeks, causing my palms to itch wanting to touch him. I climb into the car beside him, feeling my heart melt as his black eyes burn with desire. He is aching and so am I.

Jason gives me no time to say a word before he is latched onto my body. His kiss crashes into mine, devouring me. I waste no time and return my needed desire for him. Clothes are being yanked off and the condom is rolled over his cock. I go to straddle him, only this time Jason turns me around. It’s my back to his hard chest as we move in unison to our very own sexual dance. Slowly, tortuously, we move and lose ourselves in the sensations we create.

Jason wraps his strong arms around my waist and his other arm snakes my torso, his palm cupping my chin. As my head tips back, I can feel his lips on my ear, sucking my lobe into his mouth and nipping little bites. I let go of a moan and completely fall victim to him. He is taking over my very existence with every movement he gives me. I am lost, yet I’m found. And this is when I know I will officially become broken.

I’ve been fighting my impending feelings toward this man. As we move together in this intimate way, though, I know I am falling hard. What’s more, the thing that scares me the most is, once I finally land, the crash will be my undoing. What the hell am I going to do?

My thoughts become clouded when Jason picks up the pace. He tightly holds my hips, and the next thing I know, I am spinning out of control. Every ounce of my body is screaming in euphoria as I come. Jason releases a growl as he, too, meets his climax then falls still underneath me.

I take a moment to lay my head back on his shoulder and catch my breath. I’m feeling completely overwhelmed with what we’ve just done and my growing feelings. It’s making my head cloudy and my heart ache.

“Oh, Mariah, I never thought, when I first saw you, this would be us today.” My heart skips a beat. Does he feel the same? “But, man, am I glad I met you. You’re the best fuck buddy around,” Jason says then laughs into my back, the tickle of his faint beard marrying with the anxiety of my forming feelings.

Just like that, for the first time in months, Jason has made me feel like an honest to God slut. I am merely here to keep him company when he wants to fuck, that’s it. I know this is the relationship I chose in the beginning, but now, it feels incredibly wrong. And I just want to go.

I say nothing as I climb off his lap and proceed to get dressed. The entire time, Jason keeps that ridiculous smile on his face as he puts his pants back in place and pulls his shirt over his head. The wolfish grin he’s giving normally ignites my inner vixen, but tonight, it pisses me off. What pisses me off more is that I don’t have the right to be angry. I made my bed with him, so to speak, now I have to lie in it. He was very clear when we got together about this being only sex. I’m the fucking idiot who thought I could handle that when, as it turns out, I can’t.

When I finish situating my clothes and move for the door, Jason pulls on my arms, looking so incredibly sexy and happy. Ugh, I fucking hate him right now.

“Another wham bam thank you ma’am type of night, Mariah?” I turn my scowl to him and glare. Nothing he says to me is going to make me happy, especially when he’s in douche bag mode.

“Fuck off, Jason!” I shout as I pull open the back door and slam it shut.

Like any girl who storms out of the room on a guy, however, I secretly hope the man will realize what he’s losing and pursue his lady. We all want to be storming down the street, maybe in the pouring rain, only to hear him running after us. Then, once he’s pledged his love and the true feelings of his heart, we’d kiss and all would be well. I curse the person who first mentioned that kind of man to our world, and I curse myself for conforming to the sappy love shit when my rational brain knows that is not real life.

I’m a damn fool for even allowing that thought to cross my mind because Jason doesn’t make a move. He merely gets out of his car and tugs on the bottom hem of his shirt. Then, as I stand at my driver’s door, he gives me his trademark, panty dropping smile and gets into his car and leaves. He leaves me standing in the empty parking lot, stewing in my anger and wallowing in my self-pity.

I can feel my ego shatter to the tiniest shards and it hurts. Then the rage builds inside of me. I am livid with myself. How could I be so stupid to think this thing with Jason would be perfect for me? I saw one second of vulnerability in his eyes and fell victim to it. However, now it will be me who’s vulnerable; it will be me who’s going to suffer once this is all said and done, not Jason.

I flop down into my car and angrily drive from Smitty’s parking lot. The feelings of anger and emptiness flood over me, and the next thing I know, I am crying. It feels foreign at first. I never cry, ever. The last time I cried was when I found out I was pregnant with Royce, which makes me even more upset. I am crying over a stupid asshole that will never be the man I now realize I want. I’m the Goddamn moron who thought otherwise.

I speed home with angry tears falling from my eyes and resting on my cheeks. Once I pull into the parking space, I wipe the moisture from my skin. Taking a couple of deep breaths, I then look in the rearview mirror. Man, I look like shit. No wonder I hate to cry. My face is red and my eyes are bloodshot and glassy. I look like I’ve had a rough night at the bar. Fuck, I need to look a little better before I go into my apartment and face Giselle.