11. Jones
11
JONES
Jones:
How’s she doing today, Beth?
Beth (Nurse):
She’s doing well, Mr. Archer. She woke up happy and asked to go outside for a bit. We’re sitting in the garden now.
Jones:
That’s great to hear. Did the delivery come?
Beth (Nurse):
It did. That was very generous of you, sir. Your kindness does not go unappreciated.
Jones:
Thanks for taking care of her, Beth. See you soon.
I slept like absolute shit last night.
My mind was racing and my body was restless, unable to get comfortable enough to get the sleep I needed.
Meeting Capri was a surprise I never knew I’d appreciate until it happened. And boy, did it.
I’ve never felt nervous around a woman or even at the potential of a date. Although it’s been years since I’ve been on a proper date, I’m seasoned enough in age that I know the respectable basics.
Yet with Capri, I’m overthinking everything. I don’t know if I’d even call this a date, but I fully intend to fuck her across every inch of Capri.
I still ask myself: will she like the restaurant I chose for her? Does she have any allergies? Do I make her as nervous as she makes me?
Fuck. Feeling this way over someone after two days is a dangerous realm to be in. As much as I can tell my feelings to fuck off and stay out of this arrangement Capri and I have made together, it’s proving to be much more difficult than I anticipated.
There’s something different about her.
She may be young, but there’s a deep hurt I can see in her eyes that leads me to believe she never recovered from something substantial.
Substantial enough to take root.
It’s not my business to know; I’m just waiting on my brain to catch up to that reality.
Ding. Ding.
I settle on a casual fit for the day when my phone alerts me of a text message coming in.
Romeo:
How goes it, lover boy?
Jones:
This doesn’t seem important.
Romeo:
It’s not about work, therefore making it very important. You good? Heart fully intact from the bombshell that fucked you up inside yesterday?
Jones:
For someone who doesn’t speak English, you speak it too well. And I don’t know what you’re talking about.
Romeo:
Practice makes perfect. Brother, I could hear your growl from across the boat. You’re not fooling anyone.
Jones:
We’re just having fun.
Romeo:
I’ve known you for years and never once seen you have fun.
Jones:
This is different.
Romeo:
You mean SHE’S different?
Jones:
Sure. Think what you want. She leaves in five days.
Romeo:
All I’m saying is…it’s good to see you happy. Even if it’s only for five days. Your dick probably forgot how to operate.
Jones:
Works just fine. Fuck off.
Romeo:
Enjoy it, Jonesy.
Enjoy it.
Yeah. I intend to.
It’s two-thirty, which means I have thirty minutes until I need to be at Grand Luna to meet Capri. I have a taxi scheduled to arrive just in time for us.
I make myself a cup of espresso and sit idly at my breakfast bar, staring at absolutely nothing. This is my life. I come home to an empty house. The view of the city outside my grand window paints the picture of the full lives others are living.
I could be a part of that. But I’ve invested so much of myself in my company, and for what? I have nothing to show for it except for money in my bank account.
What’s the point of having all this money without anyone to share it with? I eat dinner alone every night unless I’m sailing with guests somewhere or if Romeo and Luca show up unannounced.
My penthouse has been articulately designed to my taste, but I can’t help but question if this really is my taste?
I look around me, examining the gray scale. Gray. Who invented the color anyway? A happy medium between white and black, but a color that feels stale. It seems useless.
I don’t even know what my taste looks like. I can tell you now, though, that it isn’t gray.
Meeting Capri has taught me one important thing: that it’s possible to meet someone I share a real connection with. Genuine connections aren’t just a fantasy—they’re something I can actually have.
My thoughts revert back to Hillary, my college girlfriend and truly the last woman I felt something other than lust for. I thought we would end up together, but our goals weren’t the same.
Being unequally aligned in the big things does nothing but set you up to fail at the small things.
It only took me three years of dating her to realize that.
All of my other relationships have been purely physical.
I do that for good reason. I protect myself and avoid getting hurt.
I’m limited to people who actually give a damn about me, so I’m particular about who I let in.
If only my mother was actually my mother right now, I could talk to her about the struggle I’m facing with myself.
I want to find happiness—to be happy.
But how? How can I devote myself to someone when I owe everything to my mother and father? I was a disgrace to our family, and this is my redemption.
Making his business succeed, even from the grave.
But today, I refuse to let my past weigh me down and decide to focus on my time with Capri.
I can enjoy her for a week and then say goodbye, right?
I’ve done it before, and I can do it again.
* * *
“So, what’s the plan, Captain? Don’t tell me this is where you kill me?”
I glance around the convertible taxi we’re shuttling in, pointing to the innocence of our surroundings. “Here? Too risky. Small town island and all that.”
Capri laughs, bringing a smile to my face.
I throw my arm around her shoulder, pulling her into my side and catching a whiff of her lavender scent. I picked Capri up right on time, and the sight of her in a pink mini dress with white sneakers had me questioning our plans.
I could take her back to my penthouse and fuck her senseless but that wouldn’t be much of a memorable trip for her.
I’ll take her on an adventure date and then fuck her there.
Preferably in this dress.
“Love the dress, mi amore,” I whisper into her ear. “Pick this out for me?”
She giggles, her breath catching at the feel of my steady stroke on her thigh. “It’s possible. You speak Italian?”
“Self-taught. I’m still pretty inconsistent, but I can get by. Romeo and Luca have taught me a lot.”
Capri nods. “I’d imagine living here would make it somewhat easy to catch on, so that makes sense.”
“Yeah. I’m American, so I came here knowing nothing.”
“I thought so,” Capri says, like things are finally making sense. “When we met in the candy shop, you sounded American, but I didn’t want to assume.”
“You assumed right. Born and raised. What about you?”
“Same. Nothing exciting. Actually, this trip was the first time I’ve ever flown on an airplane,” she tells me casually, like it’s not hard to believe.
“You’re kidding?” I gape.
Capri shakes her head, settling into my arm as we drive down the coast. “Never. I know…I was deprived as a child.”
I throw my head back and chuckle. “I’d say,” I reply, my thoughts suddenly drifting elsewhere. “Anything else you’re deprived of, sweetheart?”
“Mhm, lots of things,” she whispers, reaching to stroke the stubble across my face. I love how one small shift in our conversation can lead to a sexual pull we both need.
“Care to share?” I lean into the feel of Capri’s dainty hands, soaking up her touch. The wind blows her hair in every direction, while car horns and distant voices resound around us, yet her focus is solely on me.
It seems to always be like that when we’re together.
“I’m not sure you could keep up, old man.” The moan that escapes her lips makes me frantic.
“Is that so? I told you I was good at taking care of my things, Capri. This week, that means you.”
Her blue eyes stare back at me with just as much sincerity as lust. She wants me, but it’s obvious she sees more in me than that.
I’m not sure what to do with that epiphany.
“Permission to take care of me, Jones.”
“No hesitation?” I ask.
She kisses me on the cheek and moves my hand to the apex of her thighs. “None.”
Sleep must have done her good because last night’s reticence has vanished.
“I’m greedy, Capri. I don’t know how not to be.”
“I can handle it.”
My hand moves higher up her thigh. I can feel her heat from here.
“When I want something, I don’t apologize for taking it. It’s a flaw I haven’t tried changing.”
“Perfect. You can take me.” Her grin is stunning and alluring at the same time.
Where did this woman come from, and why would someone be stupid enough to let her go?
“Promise me you’ll speak up if it’s ever too much? I’d never want to hurt you.”
“You won’t. I’m not as fragile as I seem,” she whimpers.
“Nothing about you is fragile.”
I run my thumb across the center of her core, making sure I shield her from the driver catching a glimpse. “Is my dirty girl soaked for me? Does the thought of me fucking you raw make you wet, sweetheart?”
Capri moans and reaches for my cock. “I need you to touch me, Jones.”
At this moment, it doesn’t matter with who or where we are; nothing can stop me from giving Capri what she wants. Nothing. “Look ahead for me. Don’t make a sound. Think you can do that?”
She frantically nods before settling herself, anticipating my touch.
“Lay your legs across my lap, baby. Nothing crazy, just turn toward me,” I instruct, wanting her to appear relaxed as I touch her.
Capri shifts her legs, lifting them to cover my lap and goddamn it, she doesn’t need instruction, opening them slightly to make room for me.
“è una bellissima giornata, signore,” the driver calls to me, complimenting the weather, while I use the conversation as a buffer to drag my hand up the inside of Capri’s thigh.
Her body jolts, and her eyes never leave mine as I stroke the center of her core, ghosting the lace fabric of her panties. I pull her close and whisper, “Lean into me,” before responding to the driver as I slip my finger inside. “Sì. La brezza è fantastica.”
I’m just shooting the shit with him. Whatever it takes to keep him focused on the road ahead and less on the woman about to come in his backseat.
Catching Capri by surprise, I thrust two fingers into her center, and a sharp yelp escapes her lips, her body seizing. “Bite me,” I tell her calmly, trying to keep myself from ravishing her right here. “You feel like screaming, bite me here.” I point to my shoulder.
A wicked grin passes her lips, likely the idea of marking me more than satisfactory to her.
“Cinque minuti di distanza,” the driver tells us.
Excellent. Five minutes is plenty of time to take care of her.
Thrusting two fingers, I slowly pull out and circle her clit. Fuck, she’s so swollen. I can feel the heartbeat of her pussy, throbbing for relief. Capri’s sharp teeth penetrate my skin, and I have to fight like hell to not let my growl be heard. I cough, covering up the sound of her heavy breathing, and make quick work of bringing her to the edge.
Capri’s body weight sinks into me, her teeth latching on as I pinch her clit and shove a third finger inside. My hand curls, reaching for the spot I know will send her over.
She purrs in my ear, her body shaking and battling to thrust against my hand and cry out in pleasure.
“Look how good you’re taking my fingers, Capri. Holding in your sweet cries when I know how much you want to scream. Isn’t that right?”
She bites harder. “Fuck.” I exhale sharply. “Less than two minutes away, sweetheart. Give it to me.”
It’s as if that’s all she needed to hear, because the walls of her pussy close around my fingers, creating a death grip on me. Her squirming picks up, and I whisper quiet praises in her ear while she rides out her orgasm.
“Jones,” she whimpers against me, her breath heavy and her body succumbed.
I kiss her forehead and slide her off me, righting her panties into place.
“Siamo arrivati.” The driver pulls to a stop, and I turn to Capri, finding her eyes hazed with lust and entirely relaxed.
Knowing she’s waiting for me, I draw all three fingers into my mouth and suck her arousal clean, reveling in the squeal Capri makes watching me.
“Perfect, we’re here,” I say, unbuckling our seat belts and stepping out of the taxi to open Capri’s door.
“Grazie per il tuo tempo.” I thank the driver for his time, slip him a bill, and leave with Capri’s hand in mine.