Crave Page 5

  “No.”

  “No?” she asked.

  “With all due respect, don’t ever try that again. I don’t pay to play.”

  She tilted her head and brushed a hand through her hair. “What about for free?”

  I jerked my head back, surprised that she was bold enough to ask me that. “Not interested.”

  Her gazed dropped to my cock. I’d lost my hard-on.

  “I’ll leave you in privacy, then.” She walked out of the cabin.

  Once I knew for certain that I was alone and would not be bothered, I lifted Bryn’s phone off the seat beside me and smelled it, taking in a faint scent of her. Then I rubbed the damn thing against my cock. Instead of making me feel embarrassed, it made me horny as hell. I undid my pants and envisioned my dick charging into her silken haven. I’d never forgotten how that felt. With one deep inhalation along with a squeeze of my cock, I was experiencing Bryn Christmas anew.

  Twice, I finished to memories of making love to the one woman in the world I craved. The act wasn’t satiating, though. I needed more from her—the total Bryn Christmas. But at least I got a few hours of shut-eye. Before my flight landed, the stewardess’s voice came over the intercom, asking whether I was ready for her to clear the cabin for landing.

  With a woozy head, I said yes. I wasn’t a slob, so other than a general walk-through, there wasn’t much to clean. The stewardess avoided eye contact. I was fine with that. I’d probably never see her again. As I was disembarking, she stood by the door to say goodbye, in customary fashion. Before I made it out, she stepped in front of me and grabbed my cock.

  “One day, after you marry your boring, pretentious, uptight wallflower, you’re going to want to fuck for real. I just slipped my card into your pocket. Call me. I want you.” Then she walked past me. I didn’t turn to get a look at her.

  I wondered why the hell she’d said that to me. What did she overhear while servicing Boomer? What does she know?

  I had to get independent faster than I’d planned. Landing Pedro as a client was more than a wish—it was a necessity. I had a feeling my father was cooking up some sort of scheme with the Lovells. I never wanted to see any of them again, especially Jimmy. And Bree left a bad taste in my mouth too.

  Before I’d made it down the ramp, my phone rang. I was certain it was Boomer. I couldn’t put him off any longer. He wouldn’t stop calling until he got ahold of me. I knew he wanted to know how Newport had gone.

  “Hello,” I said.

  “Is this Jamison Cox?”

  I stopped before my feet hit the concrete. I knew the voice because it was my job to recognize it. “This is he. Is this Mr. Santiago?”

  “It’s me.” He sounded weary, and that worried me. “Sorry, but I’m going to have to cancel our meeting in the morning.”

  I stood straighter, but that didn’t feel like the right position, so I tilted my head back to gaze up at the overlit LA sky. “Well, do you want to reschedule?”

  “No. That won’t be necessary.”

  My jaw was so tight it threatened to lock on me. “I don’t understand.”

  “Thank you for thinking of me, but I can’t use your services.”

  His words felt as if they punched me in the gut. “Can I ask you why?”

  Pedro paused for a few beats.

  “Is it because of Mr. Christmas—Jasper Christmas?” I asked.

  “Who’s that?”

  I rubbed my eyes, experiencing some relief. Pedro was a young and idealistic candidate, with good ideas and the energy to fight for them. He wasn’t familiar with those who were woven into the establishment. That was why I needed him. He would be my first step in a different direction. And because old candidates wanted to appeal to new generations, they would seek me out too. Boomer would get pissed. He would want to cut and run, and I would let him. Peace the fuck out, old man.

  “What is it, then? Because, Pedro, we can win this. I can win this for you.”

  “It’s your father,” he said abruptly. I heard bitterness in his tone.

  “My father? He’s not in this. It’s only me…”

  “Just, I’m out. Let it be.”

  “Wait. What happened?” I asked.

  “Good night. Good luck.” Pedro hung up.

  I wanted to wring Boomer’s neck. The driver in the motorized cart sat behind the wheel, waiting to take me to my hired car. I needed a moment to figure out what to do next. I was back to square one. It would take months to find another viable candidate. Then it hit me. I knew what I needed to do.

  I talked to the pilot. We couldn’t fly out to Colorado that night, but we could head out at eleven o’clock in the morning. I took that deal and stayed in a hotel near the airport. Once I got settled in my room, I saw that Bryn had sent a huge gift—the address of where she was staying.

  Chapter Seven

  Bryn Christmas

  The echo of our footsteps in the hallway disturbed instrumental music that sounded like indie rock playing in the background. I was trying to think of something to say. We’d gotten all the formalities out of the way at the airport the other day. Even though Jamison was his usual drop-dead-gorgeous self, I could sense something had changed since we last saw each other. I was contemplating asking if everything was okay when we made a right and walked down a short set of steps, and the girl at the hostess station, dazzled eyes pasted on Jamison, welcomed us to the restaurant.

  “Just the two of you?” she asked Jamison.

  His tired eyes lapped me up, and I pressed my lips together, still wondering what was going on with him.

  “Somewhere quiet,” he said. “We have, um, a lot of catching up to do.”

  I rubbed the side of my neck. My skin felt flushed as I looked away from him. I was too attracted to him to win the battle against keeping it casual. I glanced at the steps that led away from the dining room. There lay my last chance for escape.

  “Okay, please follow me.” The girl started walking.

  Jamison wouldn’t move until I stepped in front of him. Why am I so afraid of my attraction to one man? I needed to get a grip and grow up, so I smiled and followed the hostess.

  She took us to a table near the window. Jamison pulled my chair back. I leaned away from him as I sat, but he leaned toward me, refusing to lose the opportunity to be close. The hostess told us the glass was warmed, so we wouldn’t feel the chill from outside. It was dark out, but the haze from that morning had lifted enough to give us a majestic view of snow-covered mountains.

  The hostess glanced at Jamison. He was staring at me, so she set her focus on me too. “Your waiter will be with you shortly.” She’d just gotten her attention redirected by a pro. It reminded me of the biggest reason I’d fallen for him—because Jamison was smart and so damn good at influencing people. I often pondered how I’d gone from having a fleeting interest in him to admiring him to finding him so scorching hot that I could hardly look at him without wanting him to do me.

  “Thanks for always being a gentleman,” I said as I got comfortable in my seat.

  “You smell good.”

  So do you. I smiled. “Thanks.”

  “How was your day?” he asked.

  A picture of Dale and Eden standing beside each other came to mind. I wanted to groan and complain about how I’d felt ambushed by Dale and completely believed Eden had nothing to do with it. However, seeing him sitting there brought another question to mind. If we were going to sit down together, have a meal, and reconnect, then it would be ludicrous to ignore the past.

  “Um… fine.”

  “You never told me who your client is.”

  “Jamison,” I blurted.

  He snapped back in his chair. “Yes, Bryn?”

  “We didn’t leave things on good terms a few years ago. I know you had your issues with my brother, but if you cared for me, you could’ve called me, come looking for me, or something. We had such a great connection that night, I thought.”

  He frowned thoughtfully. “Well, I
did call you, but you didn’t answer my calls.”

  “But that was after I lost my cell phone four days later. You could’ve called me the day after we made love.”

  His body tensed up. “We were up all night, remember?”

  “I do.”

  “I wanted you to get some sleep. However, I was going to call you later that night and invite you over, but then all hell broke loose.”

  I frowned as my memory came up with a rebuttal. “But you didn’t learn about Spencer’s endorsement of Mike Black until the following week.”

  Jamison sighed. “We had some intel about Spencer being in the desert. Boomer went straight through the goddamn roof about it.”

  The fatigued expression that had been on his face when I encountered him in the lobby returned at the mention of his father. “But you remember what you said before I left, don’t you?”

  My confusion intensified. “Enlighten me.”

  “You said, ‘Let me call you.’”

  My mouth fell open as I tried very hard to remember how Jamison and I had parted that morning. Shit, I did say that. I’d been afraid of what I felt for him. It was too much too fast.

  “Good evening. I’m Brent, your waiter for this evening.”

  My head felt floaty as I turned my attention to the tall and lanky waiter named Brent. Jamison’s explanation had left me breathless, and I was still recovering from that. I’d never tried to view what had happened from his outlook, only from the one that supported him being selfish and willfully letting whatever we’d been building collapse.

  “Can I get you started with drinks?” Brent asked after spying our closed menus.

  I already knew my order because I’d been dreaming of it all day. Only, I’d planned on scarfing down my burger and fries with a glass of wine while uploading new catalogs into the design app from vendors who sold furniture, lighting, and home-decor items that would better suit the choices we were making for Eden’s home.

  “I’ll have iced tea, unsweetened, and truffle fries with a cheeseburger.” I restrained myself from ordering alcohol. I didn't want anything to lower my inhibitions.

  “An Angus cheeseburger?” the waiter asked.

  My mouth watered. “Just a big, fat, juicy cheeseburger with grilled onions, ketchup, and nothing else.”

  Jamison smiled bemusedly at his menu. “I’ll have the T-bone steak with the house salad.”

  “Anything to drink?”

  “Just water.”

  The waiter thanked us and walked away. We were alone again, and Jamison’s explanation hung in the air, ready for me to respond.

  “By the way, I’m sorry,” I said.

  He narrowed an eye. “For…?”

  “My part in our demise.”

  After a few beats, Jamison cleared his throat. “I have a proposition for you.”

  “Okay,” I whispered.

  “How about we forget the past? At least for tonight.”

  I inhaled sharply. He was asking me to forget that his father and my brothers had a lot of contention between them. And what about his trip to Newport? I still suspected a woman was involved. At least, that was what my instincts were telling me. I could’ve been wrong. And what did he mean by “At least for tonight”?

  “Are you still working for your father?” I asked, since Boomer was the real reason another attempt at relationship between us would be strained.

  He looked away from me to scowl at the dark. “Yes.”

  “What’s going on between the two of you?”

  Jamison faced me, the sides of his sexy mouth turned down. “We shouldn’t talk about him either.”

  I felt my eyebrows flit upward, and I forced myself to bite my tongue. I’d hit a nerve. The curiosity about what was going on between Jamison and Boomer was killing me. But I was one for respecting boundaries.

  “Okay.” I was thinking of what else to say when the waiter interrupted us to serve my iced tea and Jamison’s water and then let us know that our dinner would arrive soon.

  Then Jamison said, “So… interior designer, huh? I thought you would go into politics. You were good at having your brother’s back.” He chuckled.

  “No, I was just…” I pressed my lips together.

  “You were just…?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know, proving myself to my brother.” I held my breath as his gaze explored my face. “What?”

  He shook his head. “And did you?”

  I couldn’t look away from his sexy mouth. Small talk wasn’t helping to quell my lust for him. “Did I what?” I whispered.

  “Prove yourself to your brother?”

  “Oh…” I adjusted in my seat. The answer was part of a long story regarding my relationship with Spencer. I’d been wrong to want to prove that I was worthy of his love and acceptance. “I didn’t have to.”

  “Knowing Spencer, I don’t think you had to prove yourself to him either. He put a lot of trust in you.”

  “Yeah… he did.”

  We were staring at each other again. My pussy was quivering, begging me to let down my defenses so that Jamison could enter me, screw me, make it feel alive.

  I abruptly shifted my position in hopes of getting rid of the tingling. That didn’t help. “What about you and the girlfriend you were visiting in Rhode Island? Whoever she is must have the Boomer stamp of approval.”

  Jamison snorted as he looked down at the table, once again proving to me that I was right about there being another woman. At least his response took the eagerness out of my pussy.

  “There’s no girlfriend,” he said, looking up again.

  “Whatever you say.”

  “You don’t believe me?”

  I shook my head slowly. “I don’t.”

  He smirked, making his dimples more pronounced.

  Damn, he’s sexy.

  “That’s because you don’t want to believe me.”

  He was wrong—very wrong.

  “Bryn, I still like you. A lot. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. I think there was something… I don’t know, pretty fucking amazing happening between us. Don’t you?”

  I swallowed the lump in my throat. Jamison was reeling me in yet again. He was an expert at it. I couldn’t think. I had to change the subject.

  “What about you?” I cleared my throat. “What have you been working on recently?”

  Not until he sat back did I notice he’d been leaning in toward me. Jamison shook his head. “More bullshit.”

  I grunted thoughtfully. “Are you still working with Agent Tammy Preston?”

  He looked confused. “Who’s that?”

  “Kristen. I mean Bree. That was her real name.”

  “Bree Lovell? Why are you referring to her as Agent Tammy Preston?”

  “Twin Peaks?” I said as if the answer was obvious.

  “What’s Twin Peaks?”

  I raised a finger, chuckling. “Give me a second.”

  Jamison wiggled his eyebrows. I could feel him studying me as I searched for a clip of Agent Tammy Preston on YouTube. Brent returned with our dinner.

  “How about a bottle of your best red,” Jamison said.

  “Mes Fleurs première classe?”

  “We’ll take it,” Jamison replied.

  I looked up with a grin as Brent walked away. “Then you’re going to drink a whole bottle of wine by yourself?”

  Jamison focused on my mouth and then wet his bottom lip. I narrowed my eyes at him even more. Goodness, he is a dangerous fire to be playing with. Who am I kidding with that question? Not him.

  I had the video ready to go and handed him my phone. “Here you go.” I cleared the frog out of my throat. “Press Play.”

  His long, strong fingers brushed the back of my hand as he took my cell phone. “This is a good sign.”

  “What’s a good sign?”

  “I give your phone back to you, and you give it back to me.”

  “Why is that such a good sign?”

  “We’r
e building something here,” he said.

  I had no idea what he meant other than that we both had large grins pasted on our faces. After a few seconds, he looked away from me to view the video. I felt released from his spell as I watched him.

  I shouldn’t do this. I could do this. I want to do this.

  He let out a laugh. “Shit, she does have Bree’s mannerisms,” he said, still watching.

  I sniffed. “I know. It’s crazy.”

  When he gave me back my phone, I made sure our skin didn’t touch. “She was jealous of you,” he said. “She tried to convince me to fire you from the campaign several times.”

  I scoffed. “Spencer would’ve never let that happen.”

  “That is true.”

  “Plus, not only did she want to bang my brother, but she wanted to bang you too. I actually thought the two of you were getting it on.”

  Jamison sneered at me. “Are you fishing, Miss Christmas?”

  The smoldering look in his eyes made my heart beat faster. I tilted my head, going with the flow, willingly playing the game of cat and mouse. “Maybe.”

  “Never.”

  “You’ve never had sex with her?”

  He shook his head.

  “Have you wanted to have sex with her?”

  Again, he shook his head. “She’s not my type.”

  I snorted. “Not into banging Agent Tammy Preston?”

  “I prefer Helen of Troy.”

  “She’s a myth.”

  “So is Tammy Preston.”

  “Not as far as Bree Lovell is concerned.”

  Jamison chuckled. “Touché.”

  Brent was back with the wine and poured a glass for Jamison and one for me too. I didn’t refuse my glass and didn’t want to. Jamison was saying something about Bree having several personalities. Suddenly, I saw him and me together. My breath hitched as I visualized his hands roaming my body and his mouth stimulating my erogenous zones, finding hot spots I never knew existed. My womanhood was experiencing a sense memory of his girthy erection plunging in and out of my ready depths. I shut my eyes tightly, pushing the image out of my head.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, sounding concerned.