Jahleel (41 page)

I
was Chad’s.

At the tour’s end, I went straight to him, as directed by his mandate.

That was four months ago.

We dated under the radar because Chad didn’t care for the media, plus he was private to the utmost, even with me. We spent a lot of time together, and I got to know him… but at times it felt as if I didn’t know him at all.

There was the Chad I knew—smooth, suave, with undeniable sex appeal. Other times, it was Chad, the authoritarian—in command with a different posture, different aura. I wasn’t sure which Chad was the real one.

High instincts told me he lived a double life, but I was too caught up with my own demanding life to pay attention to small details. A girlfriend who cared would’ve dug into it, right? Well, I didn’t care enough to dig or ask questions. In addition, the man had a certain air of intimidation that deterred people from confrontation.

Did I love him? Maybe.

He was amazing. Attentive, most of all, and serious. Probably too serious sometimes. But we were great together. No drama, no complications. He loved having me at his place and I loved being there, not just because of him, but Alina, too.

For my birthday two months ago in May, he took me to Bora Bora. Stole me from the world for an entire week. Work and technology left behind. Just us. It was heaven.

Sexually, things were off the charts—as I’d always suspected it would be with him. Chad could make me speak in languages that didn’t exist. He even topped my best-sex-ever ex, Tex. And Tex was damned hard to top.

Emotionally? Well, it was quite possible feelings were being forced. The raw, natural connection wasn’t there like it was with…
him
. But that was irrelevant. Real love isn’t something we fall into, it’s something we grow into. Right?

Right.

Weird enough, for the four months we’ve been together, I never once ran into Jahleel—not that I wanted to run into him, but they were best friends. Chad assured me all was well when I questioned if their friendship was still intact.

So, that was that.

At present, I was in Chad’s living room, bonding with Alina, eating Honey Nut Cheerios from the box, while he engaged in never-ending conference calls in his office. He did that sometimes, stayed wrapped up in phone calls that went on for hours.

Alina was watching some new adult crap show on T.V. while she filed her nails with a bright pink nail file in her
LOVE PINK
pyjama set and pink toenails. Typical teenager.

She stopped filing her nails and breathed out a dreamy sigh, “Ian Somerhalder is sooooooo hot.”

My eyes rolled. “What is it with you girls and this bloke? I don’t get it.”

Alina gaped at me in horror, as if I were some monstrous creature about to eat her alive. “You can’t be serious.”

Popping a handful of Cheerios in my mouth, I spoke around them, “I mean, sure, he’s undeniably good-looking in the face. Striking even. That jawline, wow.
But
he’s short, and puny, and probably couldn’t lift up a woman who weighs over a hundred pounds without farting or shitting himself.”

Alina snickered.

“Now if you’re talking about a real man,” I went on, “hot both in looks and body build, you’re talking men like Henry Cavill.”

Alina scoffed. “You’re just bias because he’s British.”

“Maybe,” I said around another mouthful of Cheerios. “But what about Chris and Liam Hemsworth? Now those are
men
.”

“Oh yeah,” Alina agreed in a swoony voice. “I’d definitely want Liam to lift me up in those long, strong arms.”

I grinned at her, then glanced around to see if Chad was anywhere nearby to overhear us. He was strict with his staff and especially Alina, and I knew this was a conversation he wouldn’t want me having with his cousin. “You have a boyfriend, Alina?”

She resumed filing her nails and remained silent for a long while before answering. “Guys are afraid to date me.”

“What? Why?”

Alina shrugged, but it was a shrug that told me she couldn’t, or shouldn’t talk about it.

“But there’s someone at school you have a crush on, right?”

It wasn’t normal for a girl her age to
not
have a crush. Or at least sneaking around with someone.

“Not at school,” she spared. “Guys my age repulse me. They’re brainless idiots. Think they can tell me anything and I’ll drop my panties for them. They’re hairless, muscle-less, half-brained fucknuts—sorry for swearing.”

I laughed as I stuffed more Cheerios in. I seriously loved the fuck out of her and contemplated kidnapping her and moving her in with me, what with Ferbie and Timber all on their own now. “Oh. I was worried for a minute there. Thought you were some abnormal weirdo.”

She giggled, then fell silent, leaving me no choice but to watch the pointless vampire crap on T.V. Until she whispered, “JK.”

Wondering if I heard her right, I shot her a side long glance. “What’s that?”

She kept her voice in a quiet hush, “Cousin’s best friend. He’s my crush.”

Oh.
“Oh.”

“You should see him,” she gushed, eyes twinkling. “He’s so freaking hot. He has tattoos and his hair is, like, long and perfect. And his eyes, oh God…you should really see him.”

Trust me, I’ve seen him. And felt him. Fingers, tongue and cock.

“Oh, wait!” she said, snapping her fingers.

Uncrossing her legs, she leaned to the side to lift up the sofa cushion, pulling out a magazine hidden beneath it and handed it to me.

GQ
.

And who was on its cover?

JK.

In all his panty-burning glory. How on earth did he land this one? Lion, no doubt.

Jahleel was a ball of steam, smoke and testosterone on the cover, in well-faded jeans with rips in both knees, no belt holding up his jeans, leaving it to hang tantalizingly, illegally, temptingly, dangerously low on his hips, showing off that V.

Oh, for the love of all things perilously sinful…

With that, he wore just a black biker jacket, no shirt beneath, leaving his glorious abs and pecs on display, designed to drive women right out of their minds, burning holes in their knickers. He had his asshole face on—fierce, no hostages—gold eyes mesmerizing, lips parted, both hands raking back through his hair which had grown a descent length past his shoulders.

Swallowing past the giant lump in my throat, I handed the magazine back to Alina. “Does he feel the same?”

Her eyes widened, staring at me as if I just asked her the world’s dumbest question. “God, no! He
can’t
know. Did you not hear me say he’s Cousin’s best friend? If he knew I had a crush on him, it would most likely make him uncomfortable and he would stop coming around. I sure don’t want that to happen.”

Alina was a lot smarter than she appeared. She was definitely from Chad’s lineage. “He comes here? Huh. Strange, I’ve never seen him here.”

“You know how private Cousin is. Whenever JK stops by, it’s either before you come here or after you leave,” she informed me. “I guess Cousin plans it that way.”

Seemed Chad was sparing us from awkwardly running into each other. Good thinking.

Just as I was about to bombard her with more questions, Chad sauntered into the room. Tall and sexy, in nothing but a silk, champagne-coloured pyjama bottom, the dragon tattoo tail on his back wrapped around his left side, the tip disappearing just beneath the waist band.

This ridiculously scrumptious man was mine, and mine alone.

His presence shifted the energy of the room in a major way, and he looked to Alina. “Can I steal her for a bit?”

Alina rolled her eyes as she stood up, deftly hiding the magazine behind her back. “All yours, Cousin. I was just heading off to bed, anyway.”

Chad watched her retreat from the room, then without warning, he lunged at me, scooping me up from the sofa, throwing me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and raced off to his bedroom.

At the sudden and unexpected action, I squealed.

Chad smacked my bum. “Stop being such a girl.”

“I am a girl, caveman!”

Entering his bedroom, he kicked the door shut and threw me down on the bed. His weight was on me next, tongue plunging into my mouth, rubbing against mine.

When we parted for air, he husked out, “I missed you.”

“You’re the one who thought work was more important than me.”

“Ah,” he hummed, tracing the curves of my lips with the tip of his tongue. “I had the television muted on
Late Nite with Dee Jones
while in the middle of a conference call. This gorgeous dark-haired beauty walked out on stage to perform, provocatively dressed, with a riot of stubborn raven curls billowing around her. Her smile, like sunshine. Her voice, like an angel’s. Her legs, to murder cold-blooded for. And there I was, deaf to the conference call, thinking, ‘Fuck, she’s fucking hot.’ My cock hardened as I swore, ‘I’d give
anything
to have her inner thighs pressed on either side of my face, to have her clit on my tongue.’”

He tore my top off.

“Then it hit me. I
can
.” He trailed slow kisses down my neck, down my stomach, hooking his thumbs in the sides of my shorts and knickers, peeling them off in one go. “Because that fiery hot, raven-haired minx is only a room away…waiting for
me
.”

Pushing my legs further apart, he sprinkled pepper hot kisses along my inner thighs then stopped where I was aching for him, wet for him, impatient. “So, what do I have to give to have her?”

Fighting to speak through ragged breaths, I said, “Nothing. I just want you…your tongue…on me.”

A swear word, a groan, and then his tongue was on me.

Chad and I, the following night, with much time on our hands, attempted to bake a cake for Alina who had passed her End of Term exams with bright red A’s. The cake was Chad’s idea, because I would’ve just ordered one.

We had no idea what we were doing. But the fun part was in trying. I could cook well, but was inept in the baking department. Chad had no culinary skills whatsoever. All we did was laugh and make a mess of the kitchen like two idle teenagers. Flour everywhere, all over us.

When we got bored with it, Chad set me up on the counter top, standing between my thighs with the bowl of batter between us. We dipped in, licking the batter from each other’s fingers, forgetting completely that the cake was supposed to be for Alina.

As Chad brought my chocolate covered index finger to his mouth, sucking and licking it clean, I heard the elevator doors open. Alina had been out, so I knew it was her returning.

Except, she wasn’t alone.

“Stop teasing, JK!” she whined, in a voice that had an underlying ‘
tease me, tease me, please don’t stop teasing me’
tone. “I so hate you right now. Like, totally abhor you.”

“And I think you’re an adorable nerd. Straight A’s, Ally?” Jahleel’s voice teased. “Seriously, who uses the word ‘abhor’ anymore? Oh, that’s right,
nerds
.”

Both Chad and I froze, listening to Alina and Jahleel bicker, their voices getting closer and closer to the kitchen.

Chad looked at me, suddenly disconcerted and uneasy. “I, uh—do you want to go to the bedroom until he’s gone,” he asked quickly. “I’m sure you won’t feel comfortable seeing him.”

Knowing it wouldn’t do me well to see Jahleel in person, now or anytime in the future, I nodded and set the bowl aside.

But it was too late.

As Chad placed his hands on my waist to help me down from the kitchen counter, Alina breezed into the kitchen with Jahleel dragging in behind her. His head was down as he typed on his cellphone.

The next second, my cellphone vibrated on the kitchen counter, but too much was happening in the moment to check it.

Alina stopped when she saw me, and her eyes widened in fear. She was so afraid of Chad and I was yet to understand why.

“Oh my God, Cousin. I’m so sorry,” she rushed out. “I didn’t know she was here.”

But Chad said nothing, staring guiltily at Jahleel, who, at Alina’s sudden rush of apology, turned his attention from his cellphone and glanced up. Saw us.

Chad, shirtless and worn jeans. Me, in a sports bra and Chad’s boxers. Sitting on the countertop with my legs apart, Chad wedged between them.

For about a million minutes, there was nothing but intense silence.

Jahleel glared at Chad, never at me. Myriads of painful expressions flitted across his face, betrayal more prominent.

Chad looked away first, and no one uttered a word.

My brain ceased sending out messages to my organs the second my eyes landed on Jahleel. My heart, I heard it crack again. My eyes, they burned with forced-back tears. My hands, they shook with the need to touch him. If only with just the tips of my fingers.

He was Jahleel Kingston. He was everything. He was my happiness, my meaning, and my purpose. He owned me. Body. Mind. Soul.

Just one sight of him,
one
, and every piece of fake happiness I’d carefully manufactured, shattered. Into a billion tiny pieces. None of it was real.
He
was my real. I loved him. I never stopped.