Dirty South (A Blue Collar Bad Boy Romance) (21 page)

Chapter Ten

I glance nervously between Andrè and Silvio as they approach
me behind the bar during a lull in service.

"Bree, we have to ask you about something
serious," Silvio says. I clear my suddenly dry throat. Shit, do I seem
different? Is it possible that people can actually tell that I had my first
non-solo orgasm last night? And that it was from my future stepbrother?

"Is your mom gonna sell the place?" Andrè asks.
They wait for my answer, hands folded over their white aprons.

"Oh! Oh my gosh, for a second—never mind. No, no! Why
would you think that?"

"Well, she married a billionaire. We figured…"

"She'd never sell ABC Diner," I assure them.
"Building this place up saved her. And besides, you really think she'd do
that without letting you guys know?"

Silvio shrugs. "Rich people are crazy," he tells
me flatly. "You never know what they're going to do. And your mom, and you
know I love her, but now she's one of those rich people."

"She is not!" I defend her, as though they've
called her a bad name. "Wait, you don't think of
me
like that, do
you? Like I'm gonna turn into some stuck-up crazy rich person?"

"You? No, never. But just in case, we're hanging onto
those eighth grade graduation photos of yours," Andrè says with a
delighted grin as they head back into the kitchen.

"You did not keep those!" I call after them.
"You know we couldn't afford the smaller braces!" I close my eyes,
trying to banish the thought of my cheeks, still chubby with baby fat,
surrounding my crooked teeth with braces on top and bottom. Maybe being an
introvert isn't solely to blame for the fact that I've held on to my virginity.

I take a rag and absentmindedly wash down the bar as the
front door dings with incoming customers. Am I a member of the one percent now?
Surely having a bank account with three digits in it means I can't be, but I do
live in a mansion. I pull my notepad out of my pocket as I put the rag away and
head for the table that just walked in. I'm just a few feet away before I
realize who it is.

"Miles, hi," I say, pulling my pencil from behind
my ear.

"Hey, Bree," he replies in his quiet, hoarse
voice. "I forgot you worked here."

"Oh, right." I flip my pencil between my fingers
nervously. "So, how are you?"

"You know, good…"

"You have a job at a photography studio, right?" I
ask. Shit. Is it creepy that I know that? He didn't tell me himself, I only
overheard him talking about it with his friends.

But he doesn't seem phased. "Yeah. Honestly, it's a lot
more grunt work than I thought it would be. Running errands, measuring
chemicals…pretty boring. But you have to start somewhere, right?"

"Yeah, that's what they say. So, what can I get for
you?"

He eats his lunch by himself, and we make small talk every
time I go over. I'm still too nervous to actually make a joke or say anything
intelligent, but it's by far the longest conversation we've ever had. When he
leaves, I give him a small wave, then quickly turn around to hide my giddy
smile.

On the drive home, or back to Ray's house, I turn the
conversation over and over in my mind. Did I smile too much, or not enough?
Should I have been more forward? Maybe thrown in a casual, "come back
anytime?" I have to admit I did better with him than I have any other
time, though. I hope he comes back.

When I head into the house, I can just hear voices emanating
from the kitchen. "I'm sorry you had to see it," Jack is saying as I
walk in.

"Shouldn't you tell someone in the league?" my mom
asks, worry deepening the lines around her eyes.

"Tell them what?" I inquire.

"Hey, honey," my mom greets me as I join them at
the counter. "Do you need dinner?"

"I ate there. Tell them what?" I repeat, not
letting her get away with changing the subject.

"Nothing." I raise my eyebrows at her. It was a
terrible lie, and she knows it. She sighs. "Jack got a threatening letter.
I was just going through the stack, and opened it by mistake."

"That's weird. How do they even know you're staying
here? Wouldn't they have just sent it to your penthouse?" I point out.

"Fans have a way of finding out everything," Jack
says, rolling his eyes.

"What does it say?"

"It's not important," Jack responds quickly. He
picks up the letter and envelope and walks over to the gas range. He turns the
dial, and lights the paper on fire, holding it up as it catches and then
dropping it in the sink.

"It was quite graphic," my mom says quietly.

"People bet a lot of money on these games," Jack
says with a shrug. "They can fixate all their anger on one person when
they lose." My mom smiles sadly, and I know she's thinking about my
father. Jack quickly realizes his mistake. "Sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"I know you didn't," my mom says quickly.
"I'm so glad my family's going to get a little bigger, but it does mean I
have more people to worry about," she says, rubbing Jack fondly on the
shoulder before heading for the foyer.

"Huh," Jack says quietly, almost to himself.

"What?" He has such a funny expression on his
face.

"She…it's been a while…my mother died when I was pretty
young," he finally says. I nod, not wanting to press him further. He
shakes his head, flicking away the remnants of whatever emotion or memory it
was. "Work was good?

I grin. "Really good."

He cocks his head. "What happened?"

"Miles came in. He forgot I worked there, but—"

"No he didn't," Jack interrupts me.

"He said he—" I insist.

"Trust me. He went back to see you."

"OK, whatever," I reply, dismissing the possibility
out of hand. "But it went pretty well, I think. Like, I made conversation
the whole time." I pause. "Sorry, this isn't weird to talk about,
right?"

"Not at all," he replies nonchalantly. "Or
maybe it is, but I don't care. You got any plans?"

"What, now?"

"Why not?"

Chapter Eleven

I wait five minutes after Jack goes up to his bedroom, then
go find my mom in the first floor den where she's watching TV and tell her I'm
going to bed early. On my way up to the third floor, I turn off the overhead
light inside my bedroom and shut the door behind me. I tiptoe up to Jack's
room, where his door is slightly open. I slip inside and shut the door behind
me, looking around to find the man himself.

He emerges from the bathroom, running a towel through his
damp hair, and wearing only a pair of gym shirts. "You showered for
me?" I joke, though my stomach just did a flip-flop at the sight of his
bulging muscles.

"I worked out twice today…trust me, it was only polite.
You ready?"

"Well, if tonight is about what I think it's about, can
we start with you first? It seems only fair."

He grins. "I mean, I'm not going to argue with
you," he says as he approaches me. I walk forward too, and we meet in the
middle of the room. He reaches down and cups my ass, lifting me up and against
him in a practiced move. Our lips meet and begin to explore each other's, our
tongues probing into each other's mouths.

Gradually, he lowers me, and I point my toes until they
touch the lush carpet. I kiss his chest, as high as I can reach, and then begin
to move down, letting my instincts take over. Maybe I haven't done this before,
but I am curious to see if I'm any good at it.

I'm beginning to bend at the waist, when I realize we're
going to have a logistical problem. His legs are far too long for me to kneel
and be able to reach him. I take his hand this time, feeling the rough
callouses on his palms, and lead him over to one of the white armchairs. He
sits, and I bend over, finding his nipple with my tongue and tracing circles
around it, like he did with his fingers on me last night. I move down again,
kissing his hard abs, and spreading my hands around the trunk of his torso as I
go.

Just below his belly button, I feel his hair grow coarser,
and I follow it down to the top of his shorts. I pick up the stretchy band and
realize he's not wearing any underwear. With a deep breath, I begin to pull
them down. He reaches down to help me, guiding my hands out and away before
pushing them down. As he picks up his hips to push the shorts to the floor, I
can see why.

His manhood springs out, curving up and against his stomach.
My mouth goes dry for a second as he readjusts himself in the chair. I've never
seen one in person before…and this one is a lot bigger than I thought it would
be. I bend my head down, kissing his lower stomach and then moving down to his
thighs. I tentatively reach my hand up and along the pink shaft of his penis. I
hear his breath change as my fingers wrap around it…OK, that's a good sign.

I slowly move my hand up and glance at his face. His eyes
close and his head tilts back slightly. When my hand is about to reach his tip,
I move my head over and wrap my mouth around it.

I know to keep my teeth tucked carefully behind my lips –
that much I overheard in the girl's bathroom at school. I slowly move my mouth
down, following my hand toward the base. I don't actually make it there,
because his tip hits the back of my mouth and I can't take any more of him in.
So I move back up, and at his tip again, I swirl my tongue around him. He
groans as I hit the underside of his tip, so I flick my tongue back and forth
there, delighted to have found a sensitive spot.

I work my way back down again, and look up at his face as I
continue. His jaw is clenched, and he's breathing deeply, almost like he's
trying to hold himself back. I'm surprised to feel a wetness grow between my
own legs…something about this is majorly turning me on.

I begin to move faster, tasting my own saliva mixing with a
saltiness that seems to come from him. I glide up and down his shaft and switch
hands, trying to vary up the experience for him. He grunts, and I take him as
far back in my mouth as I can.

"Oh, fuck, I'm gonna cum," he moans, and his hips
buck. My mouth fills with liquid and I almost stop in surprise, but
instinctively swallow it and keep going, moving up and down a few more times
before leaning back and discreetly wiping my mouth. I watch as he rather
drowsily picks his head up and looks at me, his eyes blinking slowly open as I
kneel between his legs, my arms resting on his bare thighs. "You're a
natural, Bree."

I smile and lean forward, placing a soft kiss on his sternum
before pausing just in front of his mouth. "Is it OK to kiss you
after…?"

He takes my face in his hands and runs his lips over mine.
"Of course. So, what did you think?"

"I…I liked it, actually," I admit. "I didn't
think it would turn me on, but it did. And the taste…it's not like anything
else, is it?"

"I wouldn't know," he says with a laugh as he
reaches forward and picks me up under the armpits as he stands up. "Your
turn," he says, and picks up the bottom of my t-shirt. I lift my arms and
he pulls it off my head. I immediately reach down and unbutton my jeans,
wiggling them down to the ground and stepping out of them. When I look up, we
both smile at the same time, and I shiver excitedly.

Suddenly he leans over and picks me up, tossing me over his
shoulder as I let out a yelp. "I think you weigh as much as one of my
thighs," he observes as he tosses me on my back on the bed. I squirm as I
watch his gaze pass over my body. "Take your bra off," he tells me,
his voice suddenly quiet. I slowly reach behind me and undo the clasp, then
draw it down my arms and drop it on the mattress next to me. "If you
thought last night was good…just wait," he whispers as he leans over me.

His mouth goes straight to my right nipple, sucking on it as
my back arches. I bite my lip and my toes begin to wiggle in pleasure as his
tongue darts over and around it before moving to the other side. He starts to
move down my stomach, going straight down the center, gently biting my skin
just below my belly button on the way.

I feel his hands on my knees, and then they slide up my
thighs, cresting over my underwear and then pulling them down just a millimeter.
His tongue traces over the newly exposed skin, and my body goes very still. I
almost feel like I'm in a trance as he pulls down my panties ever so slowly. I
feel every breath, every stroke of his tongue. Finally, he pulls my underwear
down over my thighs. I pull my knees together so he can slide them off, then
feel his hands between them, pushing them back apart even wider.

My breath is fast now, and my eyes closed. My body hums with
energy. I gasp as I feel his mouth on my inner thigh. Even though I felt his
hands down there last night, this feels somehow much more intimate. He licks
across my lower belly and I feel his palms on top of my inner thighs, holding
them out and down onto the mattress.

Suddenly I feel his tongue curling against my clit, and I
let out a cry. Holy shit…I dig my fingers into the soft duvet cover as he blows
cool air against me, then envelopes me with his warm mouth. His tongue begins
to circle around me, and I feel an orgasm building up in me even faster than
before. I feel a slight pressure at my opening and bite my lip as he presses a
finger inside me, swirling it around as his tongue flicks back and forth. I
begin to ache with the building desire, and feel an unfamiliar pressure as he
slips a second finger inside me.

"Oh my god," I breathe, my breasts arching high
into the cool air as his every movement is enough to send another shot of
pleasure blasting through me. He begins to move faster, his tongue and fingers
working together. The pleasure reaches a painful apex inside me, and I feel
myself crest over it. It crashes over me and I leave my body for a moment,
absolutely consumed with pleasure.

I vaguely feel his tongue flick over me a couple times more
as I descend from the heights, brushing a strand of hair off my sweaty
forehead. He flops down next to me and I curl toward him.

"That was…I have no words. When can we have sex?"
I murmur, not completely aware of what I'm saying. All I know is, I want more
of this feeling.

He laughs quietly. "Soon. You're pretty tight. I mean
you're small, and a virgin, so I figured…but I don't want to hurt you. Let's
build up to it a little more."

"Fine," I sigh, shifting slightly. My thigh bumps
up against something, and I frown. "You're hard again," I say in
surprise as I look down.

"Watching you…it's fucking hot," he replies.

"Well, I'm not tired," I say, putting my hand on
his stomach and sliding it downward. "You?" I ask, as I wrap my
fingers around his shaft.

"Nope," he says, with a grin.