Chapter 33 #2
This woman, a delicate China doll, signs autographs for a group of besotted fans. Every movement is languid and classy, speaking to well-bred manners and private schools.
One of the fans gushes, “When does the next Scarlet Shen movie come out?”
The woman, Scarlet, tinkles a laugh. “March. The month I move to Hollywood.”
Another fan squeals her approval. “We so need more Asian representation. Do us proud.”
JC, who's been listening in, tightens his hand around mine like a vise grip and blurts out, “Jasmine!”
It’s crazy what you can see in a flash. Scarlet pretends not to hear him, but a little muscle works along her jaw. And her eyes flicker—not toward him but because of him.
Then I notice it: a black mark on her neck, beneath the curl of her ear.
Strange. Nothing about her perfect poise screams tattoos.
I can’t make out what it is in the murky light, but it’s like a man in a five-thousand-dollar suit sitting down and crossing his legs, and a hot pink novelty sock with a clown face grinning up at you.
More to her than meets the eye.
“Autograph line starts there,” the Asian muscle grunts, jerking his chin at the mob of fans waiting patiently between velvet ropes.
Ignoring him, JC shouts her name a second time. This time, everyone hears. Everyone looks. Like a swan deciding to acknowledge you, Scarlet slowly turns her regal head. The frozen look in her eyes says she was quite happy living life without ever seeing JC again.
His breathing shifts, short and uneven. Angry, if I didn’t know any better. “Where the fuck have you been all this time?”
Something changes in her face. She touches the emerald pendant necklace draped around her neck, and I notice the faintest tremor of her hand. “I’m sorry. Do I know you?”
“You know me, Rhys, and Sawyer.”
Holy shit! It suddenly dawns on me who this is. Jasmine King. Sawyer’s old girlfriend. The one who disappeared. The one Sawyer never talks about. No wonder JC looks like he’s seen a ghost.
“Back away.” The bodyguard chest-bumps JC, then lifts his shirt to reveal that he's packing. “We don’t want any trouble.”
“Let’s go,” I whisper urgently. Guns are a real reason to get the fuck out of here.
I drag JC out to the elevators, him stumbling behind me in a silent daze. The change of scenery, the sudden quiet, snaps him out of the dark cloud that settled over us.
“Sorry,” he says absently. “She’s the last person I expected to see.” He smiles, but something is radiating off him, his sweetness curdled into something dark.
“It’s her, right? Sawyer's Jasmine.”
“Yeah,” he says in that slow, thinking voice I now recognize. “Now Scarlet Shen.” I can see his mind working overtime, trying to piece it together. He whips out his phone and promptly gets lost in a minute-long Google session.
He eventually looks up at me with a blank expression. “It doesn’t make sense.”
“What?” I crane my head for a look.
Glossy photos of Scarlet/Jasmine fill his screen. I tap to read one of the articles. She's the go-to actress of every famous Hong Kong auteur. Has built quite a reputation.
Now I understand JC’s confusion, even before he says, “They’re in the same industry. How does Sawyer not know?”
I search his pale face. “Are you going to tell him?”
“Yeah, of course. But not tonight.”
He hammers the call button for the elevator, mouth clenched from the intensity of the encounter.
In one way, Jasmine has me wondering. She exuded power—an inner strength that went beyond confidence.
The kind of vibe you don’t mess with. Dark, a little wild.
And I always watch the eyes; they usually tell the truth.
Hers were cool, detached… until they weren’t.
For the briefest second, I caught a flicker of something held down.
A bird trapped in a gilded cage.
“Hey, sorry.” JC hugs me tight, muttering into my hair, “She threw me off. But not enough to forget it’s all about you.”
His words defuse some of the tension, but not all of it. If there’s one thing I know about JC: he protects his brothers like worker bees protect their queen. I’m dying to know more and have this knot of questions inside me give the slightest bit, but smart enough to keep my mouth shut.
But he’s true to his word.
True to his queen.
Back in our hotel room, he undresses us both, his kisses crawling down my neck into the hollow of my collarbone.
I arch into him, begging for more. Then his fingers glide between my legs and dance along the thin wet fabric separating us.
He groans, peeling my panties off slowly, taking his time to guide them over my ass to let them drop on the floor beside his boxers.
He kneels in front of me, mumbling, “Oh, Gia,” and my eyes flutter shut from the heat of his breath on my trembling core.
My fingers tangle in his hair, every inhale of air burning my lungs. “Am I making you emotional yet?”
He looks up with a wicked smile and says, “Almost,” before his head dips between my legs, and I hold on, fighting not to scream as he circles my clit, licking and sucking.
It’s too much, too hot, too fast. I try to wiggle away, but he holds me tight, his mouth working me, until all I feel is my body about to blow apart.
“Fuck! JC. Slow.”
Just as the last shred of my control is about to unspool, the pressure relents. The bright electric stars behind my eyes fade into blackness, the entire room spinning as JC staggers to his feet, cups my ass, and carries me blindly to the bed.
He fumbles with a condom, roughly spreads my legs, and buries himself in one dominant thrust.
I gasp and feel myself clench around him.
“Shit,” he hisses. “I can’t go slow. Sorry. Not this time.”
His lips brush against mine for a deep, bruising kiss before he finds a steady rhythm, picking up pace as he exploits every angle, rolls his hips to go deeper, on a one-man mission to chase away every shred of worry from earlier.
I dig my nails into his back and hang on for dear life.
The climax builds like fire in my belly, moans ringing out so loud he reaches up to cover my mouth with his palm.
His eyes find mine, and so many things pass between us as the ache crests, my fists twisting in the sheets, every muscle pulling tight, before the cascading waves of pleasure consume me.
His own release powers through him, and then we’re both falling through light and shattered shadows, crying out each other’s names.