Jayded (29 page)

“
She asked me the same thing today. What did you tell her?
”

I grab my wineglass off the coffee table.
“
I told her I wasn
’
t sure. I had to leave my options open in case someone special wanted to hang.
”

“
As far as I
’
m concerned, my nights are all booked up until future notice,
”
he states. He is adorable. He looks at me like I
’
m the most beautiful thing in the world. His smoldering brown eyes glisten and twinkle when he looks my way. I
’
m not too sure he even realizes this, but I feel as though I look at him the same.
             

It
’
s getting late, pretty close to nine o
’
clock. He downs the rest of his wine and then stands up, offering me his hand. I place mine into his, and he pulls me up.
“
I think we should get warm in bed. We don
’
t have to cuddle, but we can lie next to each other for body heat,
”
he teases.

Did I really freak out that bad? I guess cuddling isn
’
t that serious. Friends do it all the time. Friends with benefits do it more often than normal. But where does the line end?

I smack his shoulder after emptying my wineglass. He walks me over to the bathroom, reaches in his drawer, and hands me a brand new toothbrush. My eyebrow raises. I don
’
t even have to ask, because he already knows.

“
Yes, I keep extra toothbrushes around in case my company needs one. It
’
s called being prepared.
”
He puts toothpaste on his and turns on the water to wet it.

He begins brushing.
“
You know, this is kind of sick, but I do have to give it to you on the player meter,
”
I say.
“
But what happens with the toothbrush after? Do they leave it, hoping it will be there for the next night they spend over, or do you tell them to throw it out so they know this isn
’
t a regular thing?
”
I question while he rinses his mouth with water.

He holds up his finger for me to wait. After he
’
s done spitting, he moves over and allows me to take his spot.
“
I tell them to throw it away or take it with them,
”
he answers honestly.

My brows now furrow. I finish brushing and rinsing.
“
Wow. You
’
re pretty ruthless. I think I
’
m going to take mine with me, if that
’
s okay?
”
I start walking out of the bathroom, but he stops me. He takes my toothbrush out of my hand and places it in the cup next to his. He doesn
’
t say another word. He just grabs my hand and pulls me toward the bed.

I
unconsciously begin to moan. Whatever it is I
’
m moaning about feels so damn good. This is one
hell
of a dream, and I don
’
t want to wake up. My body rocks with pleasure. Light kisses are applied on my skin below my neck. I want to open my eyes, but they feel so heavy. I
’
m stuck in a haze. Everything I feel is heightened by ten, so dream-like. The build-up in my core is going to bust at any moment. I hear a voice through the thick muck. It
’
s far away yet so close and so familiar. I begin to crack my eyes open. I break free from the fog and everything around me is pitch black.

“
Hey, there. You
’
re awake,
”
he says, still applying light kisses up my neck.

I can
’
t even talk. I allow my body to guide me and take control of my emotions. I push him over and climb on top of him. He lifts me up and strips off my panties. He
’
s already stripped himself of his own clothing. I lean down for a kiss. Our lips connect and our tongues collide. He
’
s waiting at my entrance for me to make the move. I can
’
t wait any longer; I need him inside of me.

I guide my weight down as he enters me. We both hiss with anticipation as I stretch to accommodate him. I don
’
t stop until I am filled to the max with him. My sex is throbbing around him. He holds me still as we kiss so he can gain control of himself. Any small movement from me might make him combust.

His lips leave mine to travel down my neck while directing me with his hands. He rocks into me slowly, guiding me while he
’
s deep within me. I can
’
t take this slow shit any longer. I break free, anchoring my hands on his chest, and roll my hips in wild, untamed movements. Every thrust revvs me up and builds the tension. When his thumb grazes over my delicate skin, I can
’
t hold back any longer. I begin to scream his name, riding him with a vengeance. As I become completely undone, he follows, filling me to the brim while yelling my name. Nothing pleasures me more than to hear his cries as his body convulses inside of me.

I drop against him, nuzzling my face into his neck. He strokes his fingers up and down my spine. We lie here together, connected, until we almost fall asleep.

“
I have to clean myself up,
”
I whisper.

“
Grab me a towel.
”

He whines when he slips out of me. I throw him a towel and head to the bathroom. By the time I come back, he is sound asleep. He looks so peaceful and so magnificent. My heart aches with the thought of someday not being this close to him anymore. He
’
s becoming a small fixture in my life. Who says goodbye first?

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

Kyle

I roll over to grab Max, but she
’
s not there. The sheets beside me are cold as though she
’
s been gone for a while now. I sit up, pissed. Her clothes and purse are gone.
She
’
s
gone. I slam my body back down on the bed and begin sulking. Why does she do this? It
’
s like she
’
s always running, but why?

Just when I think we understand each other, this happens. I just don
’
t get it. She wants boundaries and rules, but who are they for exactly? If she sets them, she doesn
’
t get attached or she won
’
t feel as guilty when she decides to walk away.

If she does decide to walk away, will I be able to let her go? I
’
ve never had a problem letting go before, but the big question is
—
will I have a problem now?

I jump in the shower and allow the steam and hot water to loosen my tension. The knots in my back begin to unravel and the anger slides away. It is what it is. She
’
s made it clear we are friends with benefits, and I made the decision to accept that. So I
’
m going to stand by my word.

I dry myself off and wrap my towel around my hips. I hear my phone ring in the other room. It could be Max, so I hustle to grab it, only to find that it
’
s my mother. Go figure.

“
Hey, Ma.
”

“
Well, good morning to you. You don
’
t sound like your normal self. Are you not feeling well?
”

No, I feel terrible.
“
I
’
m alright,
”
I answer.

“
Maybe you should stay home today,
”
she states.

You know what, maybe I
should
stay home today. I
’
m aggravated and don
’
t feel like being bothered, and the last thing I want to see is Jonathan hitting on my girl. Shit! My girl? This is worse than I thought. She
’
s right. I should stay home.

“
I guess you
’
re right. I
’
m not feeling that great, actually.
”

“
Okay, you stay home and rest. Do you need me to bring you anything? Do you have any medicine? Or I can bring you some chicken soup for lunch?
”
she asks, concerned. What would I do without my mother?

“
I
’
m fine, Ma. I
’
m just going to sleep it off. I
’
ll be rested for tomorrow,
”
I tell her.

“
Okay, love. Call me if you need anything.
”

“
I will.
”

I end the call, throw my boxers and sweatpants on, and sprawl out on my couch. Today is going to be a don
’
t-bother-me day. I just want to veg out in front of my TV and snooze all day. I switch my phone to silent and toss it lightly on my coffee table. I
’
m not looking at it until tomorrow morning. Everyone can just screw off today.

I end up drifting in and out of sleep all afternoon. It
’
s four o
’
clock, and my stomach is growling. I look over at the kitchen, but I
’
m definitely not in the mood to cook. Maybe I
’
ll just order some takeout. I lift up my phone to order and realize I have five missed calls and three texts
—
all from Max.

The first text:

“
I
’
m sorry I didn
’
t say goodbye. I didn
’
t want to wake you. You looked so peaceful.
”

Second text:

“
Are you okay? Your mom said you
’
re not feeling well. Text me if you need me to grab you something.
”

Third text:

“
I
’
m on my way. You better answer your door.
”

Before I can even text back, my buzzer goes off. It
’
s Max. I open the door and head back to the couch. She can let herself in; she sure knows how to let herself out. I hear her heels click across the room and then stop. I look up at her, and she has her hands on her hips.

“
It
’
s not even five o
’
clock yet. You should still be at work,
”
I say.

She huffs.
“
I left early to check on you. You won
’
t answer my calls. You won
’
t respond to my texts! Are you even sick? You don
’
t look sick!
”
she observes, slowly raising her voice.

“
You would have known had you been here when I woke up,
”
I snap.

She rolls her eyes.
“
So that
’
s what the cold shoulder is all about. I texted you about why I left. I woke up early and went back to the hotel to get ready. I went into work early, and I didn
’
t want to wake you!
”
she yells.

I stand up, now heated.
“
No, you woke up in a panic just like you did the last time and the time before that! You
’
re running from something. What are you so scared of? That you might actually like me? That you might actually feel something for me?

“
Well let me lay it all out for you:
I
like you, and I most
definitely
feel something for you. What? I don
’
t know, but it
’
s something, and I
’
m not going to run like a coward. You
’
re worth it enough to find out what that something is exactly,
”
I reveal to her.

I sit back down, calm. She stands in front of me, clearly unsure of what to say. I reach out for her.
“
Come here.
”
She complies and takes a seat on my lap. She leans her head against my shoulder.