16. Mia
CHAPTER 16
Mia
Fuckbuddy
Need to blow off some steam. You around?
Me
Sorry. I’m in Colorado.
Fuckbuddy
Colorado? What the hell for?
Me
Remember my dad had a stroke? I’m helping him at his store.
Fuckbuddy
Oh shit. That’s right. How’s he doing?
Me
Good. But I’ll be here all summer.
Fuckbuddy
Fuck.
Googling flights to Colorado.
J ones has been avoiding me for the last half hour. It’s probably in his best interest. My mind is buzzing with ludicrous thoughts. Jones with another woman. Women.
I’m not na?ve. Jones is insanely hot. And I’ve been gone a long time. It’s not as if I thought he saved himself for me until I came back. But did I have this silly daydream that he did? A little.
The image of Jones naked with another woman causes a fiery rage to burn inside me. Another woman riding his cock. Another woman grazing her hand over the Aster tattoo on his chest. The whole idea of it makes my stomach sick.
I play a round of cornhole with Nico while Rosie waits for Ben to make our margaritas. It’s fun and it gives me a chance to get to know Nico. I can see why Rosie fell for him. Not only is he sweet and muscled, but he’s also a charmer with that sexy Southern accent.
Nico is telling me about his family’s ranch in Texas and how his best friend is currently running it despite having his own family farm to tend to. I bend to pick up my beanbags and when I straighten, I catch Jones’s stare on me. My face flushes, but I look away. If he’s jealous again, I don’t much care.
“That must be tough on your friend,” I say to Nico as the two of us head toward our friends surrounding the outdoor bar.
“It was supposed to be temporary. Ya know, while I figured out what my plan was here…with Rosie,” Nico replies, his gaze falling on Rosie with warmth. “But looks like we need to come up with a different plan. My little sister, Amelia can’t handle it on her own.”
“So that’s it, you’re just not going back?”
He’s still staring at Rosie as he says, “What do I need to go back to? Everything I need is right here.”
His response is so pure. It causes my heart to swell. But also makes my head race. I love Jones, I’ve always loved Jones. But I don’t know if I can just leave my life behind in Connecticut. I have friends and a job.
“What do you need, cowboy?” Rosie interrupts.
“You, Kit-Kat. Only you,” Nico drawls.
“You bet your ass that’s all you need,” Rosie teases, giving Nico a quick kiss before handing me an orange-colored frozen drink. “Here, have one of The Pine’s famous peach margaritas.”
“Actually, it’s Jones’s recipe,” Cammie adds.
Peaches.
As I accept the glass from Rosie, I flick my attention to Jones, and we lock eyes. His fixed stare ignites a deep ache in my core. A longing only he can satisfy.
And suddenly, I don’t care about the other women he’s been with. I don’t even care about the other women who have seen or touched his tattoo.
Because none of it matters.
That tattoo is meaningful to me . And that margarita recipe is mine . And Peaches is my nickname.
I slip around Nico and Rosie and when I reach Jones, I push up on my tiptoes to kiss him. His gaze is frantic at first until all at once, they soften and he pulls my body in, and I mold to him.
It’s daring. It’s public. It’s spontaneous.
And I don’t care.
When I pull back from him, he gazes at me in wonder and a smile pulls on my lips. The voices of our friends sound out around us, and I settle against him. He slips an arm around my waist and hoists me closer.
“What was that for?” he whispers finally.
“You made a drink for me?” I say it like a question.
He passes me a sheepish look. “I did,” he admits. “Part of me never expected you’d find out.”
A ball drops in the pit of my stomach.
“But a bigger part of me hoped that you would.”
Relief washes over me, and I rest my head against her shoulder. He kisses me on the side of my head.
“You know, Peaches, you’re the only woman for me,” his voice rumbles softly in my ear. “We share something that will tether us together forever.”
He’s not wrong. That is our reality. Our shared grief is something that connects us. In a twisted sort of way, it binds us together.
But the words that come out of my mouth still surprise me. “I don’t want to be alone anymore, Jones.” My chin quivers as I let it drop to my chest.
“Hey?” he mumbles.
Reluctantly, I lift my face to look at him.
“You don’t have to be. Not in this. Not anymore.” The kiss he gives me is clipped. It’s deliberate. It’s firm.
“Okay, that’s enough,” Rosie interrupts our moment. “Whatever’s got you two so uptight, it’s time to leave that crap at the door. Because we’ve got more pressing matters.”
“Yeah? And what’s that?” Jones quips.
“Cornhole of course.”
“I swear, no one takes cornhole more seriously than you, Rosie-Posie.”
“Let’s be real here, it’s not just cornhole. Rosie’s competitive in everything,” Nico says.
Cammie swoops in and slips her arm around Rosie’s waist. “And that is just one of the many reasons why we love her.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah…let’s see how much you love me when Nico and I are crushing y’all.” Rosie snatches the beanbags from Nico’s hand, giving him a cheeky grin as she sashays away.
“That feels like a challenge,” Jones says, taking me by the hand and following Rosie and Nico.
Cammie snorts a laugh. “Oh shit,” she drags out in amusement. “It’s on now.”
We close the bar down. Our friends are the last to leave at 2 A.M. Besides, Ben, who closes with the help of two other employees. The alcohol has already run through my system, and I’m exhausted from a long day. Base Camp is the busiest in the winter and summer seasons.
But after Ben locks up and leaves and it’s just Jones and I alone, I’m suddenly wide awake. Jones passes me an untamed look from across the bar that sets fire to my skin. I love how he makes me feel. Love how he makes me feel about myself.
Wanted, desired, needed.
Jones shuffles toward a pool table, not once taking his attention off me. He picks up a pool stick and raises his brows in insinuation. I’m tired, ready to turn him down and take him upstairs to his apartment where we can collapse in each other’s arms till late morning. But there’s something in how he’s being persistent about this that has me curious.
I nod and a wide smile appears on his lips while I shuffle toward him.
“Just one game, then sleep,” he promises, pressing a kiss to the side of my head.
Warmth expands in my chest. Jones can read me like a book. He knows when I’m mad or sad, or like tonight; exhausted. He knew earlier when I was jealous.
Just the thought of another woman being with him makes me feral. Another woman touching him, pleasuring him, and seeing his tattoo. Heat travels through my limbs at the images I’ve conjured up in my brain.
His hand cinches at my waist before he releases me, sliding it nonchalantly over my ass and giving it a light smack.
Deep down, I know he’s mine. If even for the rest of summer.
“You wanna break them?” he asks, setting the balls in the triangle.
“I’ll let you. You’ve always been better at breaking than me.”
He leans over the table with the pool stick in his grip, focusing on the cue ball and I can’t help but check him out. His forearms go taut as he lines up his shot. The precision of the pool stick in his hands makes me a little jealous of it. I need those talented hands on me. Just thinking about the things they are capable of causes my core to tighten.
The cue ball crashes into the others, sending them flying in all directions across the table and breaking me from my imagination. It’s no surprise several balls sink into pockets. Jones is good at everything he puts his energy into.
“Here ya go, beauty. Your turn.” He hands me my own pool stick. “You’re stripes. I got one in for you by accident. You’re welcome.” He winks.
Rounding the pool table, I say, “Thanks, but I don’t need any favors. If you remember, I used to be pretty good at this game.”
“I remember.”
I bet he does. He seems to remember everything.
It takes some contemplating, but I find the best logical shot and line it up. Bending, I choke up on the pool stick and close an eye to get a better visual of the shot. I pull back the stick in my right hand a few times before releasing it and smacking the tip of it against the cue ball.
At the same time, Jones says, “What I wouldn’t give to be that pool stick.”
It nearly scratches at his interruption.
I groan but snort a laugh. “That’s cheating.”
He shrugs and his expression is adorably guilty. “I’m not trying to cheat. I really do wish I was that pool stick. Correction: I wish my cock was that pool stick.”
The way he looks at me like I’m his next meal, sends goosebumps racing down my arms.
“Easy boy, we’ve just started the game.”
He takes a few slow strides toward me, not once taking his eyes off me. A swoop low in my belly causes me to clench my thighs together. Leaning close, he looks down at me with fire in his gaze without touching me.
“You sure you wanna play the game?” he growls.
Looking up at him and seeing how much he wants me makes me feel a million different sensations. It makes me feel powerful, loved, and desired. I want to drink in this moment. I don’t know how many more we’ll have. I soak it up and bottle it, in an attempt to savor it.
“Because I can think of a different game we could be playing.”
“What’s wrong, you don’t like playing pool with me?” I try to play coy. But he knows me better than that. Probably knows I want him as much as he wants me.
“I love playing pool with you,” he says, a crooked smile on his lips. “Especially when you’re choking up on that pool stick and imagining it’s my cock.”
I snort a laugh. It’s a line if I’ve ever heard one. But it still riles me up.
Jones always riles me up.
“I hope I treat your cock a lot nicer than that,” I say, quietly.
My words turn him inside out. In an instant, his eyes are flickering with lust and his jaw ticks.
“Stop being so nice, Peaches. Because what I want you to do with my cock is anything but nice.”
“Yeah? And what do you want?” I challenge, licking my lips.
His blue-grey eyes are animalistic. “I want to stuff my cock down your throat and choke you with it.”
My legs tremble.
“But now I’m so turned on I’ve lost all my patience.” With that, he unzips my pants and shoves them down my legs. I inhale in a whoosh of breath.
He lifts me at my waist and sets me firmly on the edge of the pool table, the wood ledge bites at my skin. But as soon as he lowers to his knees, all the discomfort floats away.
“Look at you, you’re so fucking horny for me, you’ve already soaked your underwear.”
It’s the truth. My hard-up pussy can’t deny it. It throbs for attention.
His attention.
Jones answers. He sucks my clit through the silky fabric of my thong. Intensity erupts and sends bursts of pleasure racking my body. I can’t hold in the moans or the whimpers of his name from my lips. Every nerve ending is hanging on by a thread waiting to come unraveled.
As soon as he tugs my thong down my legs, I’m antsy. I tether my fingers into his hair as he buries his face between my legs. It’s the epitome of surrender. To relish in pleasing me, taking care of me, cherishing me.
All my emotions tangle and weave and I can’t tell which way is up or down or who is in control anymore. All I know is I need him. All of him. Inside me, now.
“Jones, I don’t want to fall apart until you’re inside me,” I admit, my voice soft and raspy.
He peers up at me, over my breasts, and skims his hand across my belly. “You sure? Because once I sink my cock into your pussy, there’s no stopping. I will fill you with my cum until it’s running down your legs.”
Holy shit that’s hot.
I let my head fall back, my breathing too fast.
“Eyes on me, Peaches. I want you to watch and see what you do to me when I fuck your irresistible cunt.”
“Jones,” I shriek, tossing a hand over my face.
“That’s it, you can say my name just like that while I pound into you over and over.”
I snort a laugh, even though I know he doesn’t intend to be funny. It’s just there are too many emotions working through me all at the same time and one way or another I’m going to explode. My hope is, it’s by way of a mind-blowing orgasm.
He drags the tip of his dick over my entrance, once, twice, three times, and each time I hiss a sharp inhale of breath until he finally dives into me. I gasp as he fills me to the hilt. Tiny bursts of stimulation buzz straight to my core.
“Fuck. Jones,” I cry.
“Yeah, Peaches, just like that. Cry it out each time I slam into you. Let the entire town of Maple Ridge know you’re mine.”
I let the comment slide. Because tonight, I am his.
“Jones,” I shout as he thrusts harder, faster, I clamp my thighs around his chest, holding him to me so he doesn’t even think about stopping.
“Yes, Mia. You’re mine. This pussy is mine.” He dives deeper, I didn’t even think it was possible. But he does. He reaches me in places no one else ever has. He has me seeing stars.
“Yours,” I cry in admittance.
It seems to be the exact thing he needs to hear because his expression shifts from lustful to adoring.
“You’re going to come with me, Mia. Not a second sooner.”
I buck against him, my breathing erratic, my legs thrashing. I’m going to lose my fucking mind if he doesn’t let me come.
“Now, Mia. Come for me now like a good girl,” he growls.
And I do. I collapse, giving into the pleasure, giving into the descent. I shatter and disintegrate into a billion pieces at Jones’s mercy and held in his embrace.
“Fuck, fuck, fuuuuuck,” he drags out the last word on a strangled breath before stifling his screams into my shoulder, biting his teeth into my skin.
Our breathing is irregular, but we share in it. We revel in it. His shoulders shake and apprehension snakes in my gut.
Is he crying?
But he lifts his chin and I catch the playful, crooked smile stretched on his. He chuckles. Relief fills me.
“That was…probably the best it’s ever been.”
He spreads lazy kisses starting at my shoulder and works them up my arm. “Mia, you continue to amaze me, you know that?”
“Hopefully in a good way.” My glance shoots away from him, suddenly embarrassed and I don’t even know why.
“I mean it in the only way it can be intended.” He lifts my chin in his hand so I can’t look anywhere but at him. “You’re amazing. You’re beautiful. You’re perfect. You’re mine.”
A lump works its way up my throat. I want to correct him, but at this moment, I can’t think of any reason why.