Chapter Five Just for Tonight
SUTTON
I continue to follow Jayce out of the ballroom, and then into the open night air in front of the building.
It’s much quieter out here, save for the low hum of traffic in the distance, and I feel an instant sense of relief, like a weight I hadn’t realized was pressing down on me has suddenly lifted.
The open sky above helps alleviate some of the claustrophobia I hadn’t realized I’d been feeling until this moment.
Jayce’s hand around mine is warm and solid, anchoring in a way that’s keeping me from overthinking and second-guessing my choice to come with him.
He hands the valet his ticket, and a few minutes later, a sleek black sports car pulls up in front of us. Jayce opens the passenger door for me and helps me get inside. I sink into the soft leather seat as he makes his way around to the driver’s side.
“Where can I drop you off?” he asks once he’s settled next to me.
I hesitate, pulling my phone from my clutch and gazing down at the black screen. Mom and Dad will eventually wonder where I went, and if I just go back to the hotel, I can use the excuse that I got a headache or something and wanted to rest.
Except, I’m not ready for the night to end. Not ready for this feeling of relief to disappear.
“I don’t know,” I answer at last. “I just don’t want to go back to my hotel yet.”
He regards me for a moment, the corner of his lips quirking up.
“Want to go to my place? It’s not far.”
My heart races at the suggestion, but I instantly say, “Yes.”
His small, easy smile remains in place as he takes off down the road.
The drive is quiet, but it’s not an awkward silence.
I’m weirdly comfortable and at ease, which never is the case in situations like this.
I always feel the need to fill the empty space with unnecessary words because I feel like I’m falling short somehow if I don’t.
Like I’m not interesting enough, or trying hard enough to be charming and engaging.
Jayce doesn’t strike me as the kind of man who needs the quiet filled.
He seems comfortable with not speaking, so I lean into that and relax.
We arrive at his house less than twenty minutes later.
The tires crunch over the gravel as the car winds its way up the long, tree-lined drive.
I catch flashes of white stucco through the gaps in the towering oaks, lit up with soft lights illuminating the property.
As the road curves, the house comes into full view, and it’s rather impressive.
It’s not ostentatious in the way I expected a Silicon Valley mansion to be.
Sleek, modern lines. Floor-to-ceiling windows.
It’s an impressive piece of architecture and I can’t help but admire the angles softened by terraces, steel, and stone balanced with stretches of pristinely manicured greenery.
I can see the sweep of the bay off in the distance, the hazy outline of the city beyond, and it makes sense why this is here—why someone would pay a fortune for this view.
The closer we get, the more details stand out: the slate roof, the infinity pool that seems to spill off the cliff’s edge, the sculpture garden positioned near the entrance.
It’s all very curated and intentional, and whoever designed this place was a true artist. I’m so used to gaudy, over-the-top homes that shove the wealth of its owner down my throat, but Jayce’s home is minimalistic and thoughtful in the way it blends in with its natural surroundings.
It’s a lot like him, and I find it just as refreshing as his presence.
The car glides to a stop before massive double doors framed in black steel and warm wood and I catch the small vines carved into the curve of the entrance. The details of this place are exquisite.
“Your house is beautiful,” I murmur.
“Thank you,” Jayce replies, his voice a low rumble that makes me clench my thighs together. “I can’t take too much credit for it, though. It’s a family home. My mom oversaw the remodel.”
I turn to him with a grin. “She has good taste.”
He studies me for a moment, his gaze intense, his face lit up by the soft lights of the dashboard. I feel my cheeks flush under his stare and I’m thankful it’s dark enough that he hopefully won’t notice.
“Let’s go inside,” he says at length.
“Okay.”
We get out of the car and Jayce leads me up to the front door and opens it, stepping aside to let me go in first.
The inside of the house is as impressive as the exterior.
The ceilings are high, and a glass wall at the back of the open house frames a view of the valley and the glittering bay.
The floor is pale oak, smooth and warm. In the entry hall, a suspended staircase floats upward in graceful, glass-sided steps.
Directly ahead is the living room, and I can see a low-slung sectional in dove gray, a low, oak coffee table, and a stone fireplace.
I gaze around, appreciating the intricate details just like I did outside. I catch sight of the kitchen off to one side — stainless steel, marble. Expensive, high-end. Beyond that, another wall of glass opens onto a terrace.
“Make yourself at home,” Jayce says, snapping my attention back to him. “I’ll get us some wine.”
“Sounds good.” I watch him turn and head to the kitchen before I start wandering around, taking in more of the house. Aunt Delilah would love this place. Mom would too, but she’d declare it too modern for her tastes, in order to maintain her old money facade.
I find myself making my way toward the glass wall overlooking the backyard.
Finding the back double doors, I open them and step outside, and walk to the edge of the pool, which seems to drop off into the horizon.
The water is smooth and still, with deep blue lights deep inside, giving it an ethereal glow.
Gathering the skirt of my dress, I bunch it up around my thighs and sit down to dangle my feet in the water.
The pool is heated—no surprise—and for a moment, I’m tempted to strip completely and take a late night plunge.
It’s a warm night for March, but what would Jayce think?
He said to make myself at home, but I doubt undressing in his backyard and skinny dipping in his pool is what he had in mind.
“The pool’s nice, huh?”
I look up as Jayce steps next to me, two glasses of wine in his hands.
He’s taken off his tux jacket and loosened his tie.
The top two buttons of his shirt are undone and he’s rolled his sleeves up, revealing his muscular forearms. Good Lord, the man could be a fucking GQ model.
He hands me a glass of wine before sitting down.
I watch him set his own wine beside him, then methodically roll up his pants so he can dip his feet into the water as well.
His calf muscles flex as they slide into the water and I can’t help but stare a little.
I don’t think I’ve ever noticed a man’s legs before, but the hard ridges and power contained in his makes my heart beat a little faster.
“It is nice,” I choke out, remembering his question. “This is a really peaceful spot.”
“Yeah. I like the quiet out here.”
We fall into that comfortable silence again, sip our wine as we gently move our feet in the warm water. I feel so relaxed. So safe. It’s like we’re in our own little bubble and the rest of the world can’t get to us.
I don’t understand why Jayce makes me feel so comfortable, but I’m not going to overthink it.
Not tonight. It’s a nice change of pace because the only other people who can even make me feel close to this at ease are my friends, but of course, none of them live close to me.
Also, things are always so energetic and rowdy when I’m with my girls that it’s kind of nice to just sit and be calm with someone.
I really wouldn’t have guessed Jayce could be so at ease and laid back like this.
At Christmas in Estes Park, the few interactions I had with him, we were caught up in the energy of the group, the games, and activities.
I feel like I’m actually seeing the real Jayce for the first time.
“I wish every moment could be as quiet as this one,” I murmur, gazing up at the night sky.
He looks at me and gives me a small smile. “Hard to find some silence when your family is always buzzing in your ear, huh?”
Absolutely, but admitting that feels a little like a betrayal to Mom and Dad.
Plus, it’s not so much the buzzing in my ear as it is the storm in my head.
So I just shrug and don’t give him an answer.
The last thing I want right now is for him to find out that my brain is usually as active as a coked-up hamster on a wheel.
At the moment, it’s peaceful, and I want to savor that for as long as I can.
“I used to feel this peaceful when I danced,” I softly confess.
“You were a dancer?”
Grinning, I nod. “Yeah…sorry, that was so random. It just came to mind. I did ballet, jazz, and contemporary through college. It was kind of an escape, but I had to give it up to focus on my career and the company.”
“That’s too bad,” he murmurs. “I’d love to see you dance sometime.”
I glance back up at Jayce, and my heart starts pounding.
No man should be this beautiful. His nose is straight, his jaw chiseled and defined.
His lips are full, and I watch, fascinated, as they part so he can take another drink of his wine.
He drags his tongue along his bottom lip, catching a few drops that try to escape, and my breath catches.
What does he taste like? Are those lips really as soft as they look?
It’s been so long since I’ve kissed a man. Since I’ve wanted to kiss someone, but staring at Jayce, I find myself wanting to kiss him very, very badly.
He looks my way and catches me staring at him. His brow furrows.
“You okay?”
Throwing caution to the wind, I give in to my urge and reach up to cup the back of his head and pull him down toward me.
I kiss him, boldly and firmly. This is so not like me.
I flirt and tease, sure, but I’m not brave enough to make the first move.
Maybe it’s the wine, maybe it’s the fact that my mind doesn’t feel like a pressure cooker about to explode, but I feel brave right now.
I can tell Jayce is surprised by my kiss and he doesn’t move for several seconds, but then he pulls back, breaking the contact and gazing down at me with an unreadable expression. Oh, shit. Did I go too far? Did I let myself get confused by the peace and how comfortable we are with each other?
God, damn it! He was just being nice! I read this situation all wrong and now I’ve fucked up this situation like an idiot…
His gaze remains on me for several moments, curious at first, but then something shifts.
Heat enters his eye and he suddenly tangles his fingers into my hair and yanks me toward him.
His lips come crashing down on mine and I let out a small cry of surprise and delight.
I grab the front of his shirt and cling to him as he sweeps his tongue into my mouth.
He takes total control, dominating the kiss, and heat explodes deep inside me.
My pussy tingles then throbs, growing wet and needy in a matter of seconds.
Jesus, it’s been so long since a man touched me, I’m soaking my panties with just a kiss.
Jayce pulls back again, tugging my hair when I instinctively try to follow and close the distance between us once again.
“We shouldn’t do this.” His voice is gravelly and layered with hunger. “It’s not a good idea.”
He’s probably right. We have all our common friends, and things in my life are so complicated right now. I should just get up and walk away before I get myself tangled up in another mess.
I don’t want to, though. I don’t want to leave, and I don’t want to think about the possible consequences sex with Jayce Vaughn could have for me. All I want is to hang onto the quiet in my head and the comfort of his presence.
Curling my fingers more tightly into his shirt, I whisper, “Just for tonight.”
He releases a long breath and shakes his head. “Sutton, if you knew the things going through my mind right now that I wanted to do to you, you’d run.”
He might have meant those words as a threat, but I find them oddly titillating. What’s that mean? I wouldn’t be surprised if a guy like him has some secret kink—ways of achieving pleasure while working out the pent up frustrations from his day-to-day life.
Nibbling my lip, I murmur, “What if I run toward them, instead of away?”
He tenses and doesn’t say anything for several long moments. “Would you be willing to let me show you?”
I look up at him. Our eyes meet and he holds my gaze for several moments.
“Yeah,” I whisper. “Do whatever you want to me. I want it.”
I don’t know what exactly he sees other than my blatant desire, but he presses his lips together and nods.
“All right.” He takes hold of my wrists and pulls my hands away from his shirt so he can stand. He offers me his hand and helps me to my feet as well. When I’m standing in front of him, he murmurs, “We’ll do it my way.”
Removing his tie, he slowly wraps it around my head, blindfolding me.