Chapter 14
JASMINE
The morning sun penetrated the crack in the blackout curtains, a vertical column of light that made me squint.
I wiggled from underneath Kai’s arm enough to grab my phone.
Ten past eight. It dawned on me that I’d slept through the night for the first time since the attack.
Nine nights of nightmares was more than enough.
Maybe my nervous system was finally settling down.
There’d been no sign of the smugglers looking for their drugs.
No news was good news, right?
Scrolling through the list of notifications, I clicked on an Instagram DM from Max, my manager at the bar: Sold your pelican tonight. Money is in the safe with your name on it.
Had my sexy boyfriend not been sleeping beside me, I would have squealed. Instead, I typed my response in silence. Slay! Thanks, I’ll pick it up tonight.
That was two paintings sold this week, and now there were none at the bar.
I needed to finish my two works in progress today so they would dry before my shift.
I slipped out from under the covers and tiptoed from the room toward the kitchen.
I put the tea kettle on to boil and spooned coffee grounds into the French press before I wandered over to the two easels tucked into the breakfast nook where a table should be.
I’d moved it out to the living room my first week there so I could use the space with the best light for painting.
The good news was that they were both basically finished.
They could use a few more accents to make them better, but I should be able to knock that out in a few hours, tops.
With any luck, these would sell as fast as the last lot.
The shrill whistle of the kettle made me hustle back into the kitchen.
After pouring the water into the grounds, I lowered my nose over the steaming carafe.
I enjoyed smelling coffee almost as much as I liked drinking it.
While the java brewed, I returned to the easels and searched through my tray of acrylics, sifting through the tubes to find the colors that the paintings were missing.
A little periwinkle here, a little saffron there. This would be a piece of cake.
Balancing two mugs in one hand, I twisted the bedroom doorknob.
Kai looked so peaceful that I just stood watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest. He was the most beautiful man I’d ever laid eyes on, even sexier than his identical twin whom I’d rather forget.
His tousled hair spilled over the pillow.
Gently setting the mug on the nightstand beside him, I decided to let him sleep longer.
I was almost to the door when Kai’s voice rumbled low, “Where you sneaking off to?”
“I’m not sneaking,” I giggled, caught in the act. “I thought you could use the sleep.” The stress had taken its toll on both of us.
“I think that’s the most I’ve gotten in one run since…” He stopped himself, the words hanging unsaid, heavy between us. Our secret seemed slightly less dire in the light of day.
Kai propped up on his elbow and reached for the mug beside him, hair a tousled mess, eyes still glazed with sleep. “Aww, did you leave me this before you tried to sneak away?”
“You’re welcome,” I teased. “Now I’m going to sneak out to finish my paintings.”
“What’s your hurry?”
“Max texted me last night that he sold my last painting at the bar. I need to get the two I’ve been tweaking finished so they’ll dry before my shift.”
“That’s fantastic.” His grin was wide, boyish, genuine. “Come here, madame artist. Give me two minutes.”
I gave him a dubious look, but my lips curved as I walked back toward the bed. I had to smile at my inability to resist him as I sat on the edge beside him. “There. You happy now?”
“Getting there.” His brow arched, playful, as his arm slid around my waist.
I sipped my coffee, pretending not to notice his palm rubbing slow circles on my stomach. “Two minutes then I go paint.” After another sip, I nudged his roaming hand and tipped my chin toward his mug. “Better drink up.”
“Two minutes could be enough,” he said with a sheepish half-smile.
“As if,” I scoffed. “We haven’t managed a quickie yet.”
“First of all, we haven’t tried to have a quickie yet. And second, I haven’t heard you complain.”
He was right. I had no complaints. He always took his sweet time with me, and I loved every minute of it. “They say practice makes perfect, but I’m not sure a quickie is something I want to perfect with you.”
Mischief sparked in his hazel eyes. “There’s a time and place for everything. And there’s no time like the present.”
“Think you can weave another proverb or two into this thread before your time is up?” I teased, raising a brow over my coffee mug.
“It’s not about how bad you want it.” His lips curved as he guided my hand over the hard line in his boxers. “It’s about how hard you’re willing to work for it.”
I didn’t take the bait. “So I should make you work for it,” I said, drily.
“You should let me do all the work, beautiful.” He sat up, pried the mug gently from my hands, and set it aside. “Let me take care of you and start your day with a smile.”
“And by smile you mean orgasm,” I said, still feigning resistance, though my heart rate betrayed me.
“I mean toe-curling, ear-to-ear grinning because your whole body pulses with my touch.” He tugged me down to the mattress in one smooth motion.
My heart fluttered in my chest. Promise me orgasms and I was done for.
“Alright, but you don’t have to do all the work.”
“Will you just relax and let me do my job?”
“Your job? So romantic.”
“Am I going to have to kiss you to shut you up?”
I opened my mouth for a retort, but his lips caught it, stealing the words before they formed. He freed the knot in the belt of my robe effortlessly while his lips moved over mine, commanding submission.
His tongue teased down my neck, lingering at my collarbone before drifting lower. My skin prickled where his mouth had been, heat chasing in its wake. He kissed and sucked each nipple in turn, hand cupping and stroking, until my back arched without permission.
“Relax,” he coaxed, voice low against my skin. “I’ve got you.”
His mouth traveled down my belly, erasing any thoughts about canvases or deadlines. By the time he settled between my thighs, I was already trembling. He teased me first, just barely there, and I chased his tongue before he finally gave me what I wanted.
I fisted his hair, breath coming short. “Kai…”
“Mm?” His hum vibrated against me, teasing deeper.
“Please.” My voice cracked, raw.
He answered with his tongue, deliberate and unrelenting, until the pressure coiled so tight it snapped. I came in shuddering waves, his hands anchoring my hips as he prolonged the crest, coaxing every drop of release.
“One,” he murmured smugly, kissing the inside of my thigh.
I yanked him up and crushed his mouth to mine, tasting myself on his lips. “Come here.” My heel hooked behind his calf, pulling him over me. He pressed into me slow, eyes locked on mine as if it were a vow.
The stretch, the slide, the way I fit around him made my whole body sigh. He started steady, measured, then deepened when I rolled my hips in answer. That lazy morning rhythm felt endless, addictive.
“Tell me what you want,” he rasped, forehead against mine, sweat beading at his temple.
“Don’t stop,” I gasped, nails grazing down his back.
He didn’t. His hand slipped between us, clever fingers stroking, and my vision went starry at the edges. I clenched around him and he groaned, a broken sound that undid me.
“Jas—”
“I know,” I whispered. “With me.”
And we broke together, his body taut above mine, mine shaking beneath him, both of us laughing breathlessly as we stilled.
He tucked me under his chin and stroked my hair while our hearts settled. I traced lazy shapes on his shoulder and tried to remember why I’d thought painting was urgent.
“Two minutes, huh?” I said, voice sated and raspy.
He laughed into my hair. “Artist time is different.”
“Mm. Keep talking,” I teased. “I like the sound of you justifying yourself.”
He kissed my temple. “I like the sound you make when you forget your own name.”
“Shut up and drink your coffee, Rodman,” I said, stern, but I was smiling so hard it hurt.
He rolled to the side, propped on an elbow, and handed me my mug. My hand was steady again. That felt like a small miracle.
“Running total?” he asked, eyes dancing.
“Two for the morning,” I said primly, taking a sip. “You’re behind schedule.”
His grin went wicked. “Challenge accepted.”
I swatted his chest and slid out of bed, legs a little wobbly in a way I was absolutely not going to admit. “If you want that hundred, you’re going to have to let me finish my paintings first.”
He lay back, arms folded behind his head, watching me like I was a sunrise. “Deal. I’ll keep you supplied with coffee and orgasms. You make the art.”
“Romantic,” I deadpanned, grabbing a hair tie. But the warmth in my chest was real. Safe. Seen. “Now go shower, menace. I’ve got brushstrokes to chase.”
He caught my wrist as I passed and pressed a kiss into my palm. “And I’ve got an orgasm number three to plan.”
I rolled my eyes and escaped to my easels, grinning like I hadn’t in days. The canvas looked easier suddenly. Maybe it was the caffeine. Maybe it was him. Probably both.
“Alright, alright,” he called, amusement still thick in his voice. “By the way, how long does it take you to do a painting start to finish?”
“It depends on the size,” I answered absently.
“Size matters.” He smirked, giving me a squeeze as he walked past.
“Definitely,” I snickered. “For a medium-sized canvas like the ones I’m finishing, a couple of days if I’m in the zone.”
“And the smaller one like I bought?”
“I can crank out two of those on a good day.” My lips twisted to one side and I studied his expression. “Why do you ask?”
“Just curious about your work, babe. Aren’t you ever curious how many fish I catch in a day?”
The question had never occurred to me. “Is it terrible to say no?”
“It’s not terrible,” he said with a shrug. “You only want me for my body, I get it.”
“I do enjoy your body very much. But that’s just the cherry on top. I’d love for you to teach me about fishing sometime.”
“You would?”
“It’s what you love, so I’d like to learn.” I tiptoed to kiss his cheek.
“Alright. Maybe we can look at the schedule tomorrow night and plan a trip, when we’re at the marina for my family barbecue…”
This was the first I’d heard of the dinner plan he was trying to rope me into, and it invoked a sudden surge of panic. “Like, your whole family?” I stammered, my face flaming.
Kai cocked his head, eyeing me. “Yeah. They don’t bite, I promise,” he said cautiously. “You already know Reef and he’s the worst behaved of the lot.”
Avoiding Reef was part of my hesitation, but it didn’t explain my major case of cold feet to meet the rest of his family. “I’m sure they are all lovely.”
“And they will all love you. Please say yes.” He smiled into my eyes, pulling my hips in close. I couldn’t say no to that ask.
“Yes,” I said, chuckling again at his persuasiveness. “I’m going to hop in the shower. Do you want to go first?” My single-stall shower wasn’t quite big enough for both of us. We’d flooded the bathroom trying.
“I think I’ll shower at home and hang with the dogs before my charter.” He paused, locking my gaze. I could see the love in the hazel depths of his stare. “I’m getting used to waking up next to you,” he said, gently brushing a lock of hair off my cheek.
Flooded with warmth, I felt like I was melting in his arms again.
I was getting used to all of it, maybe too much. Kai had been practically living at my bungalow for the nearly two weeks since we met. We didn’t mean to move so fast, but here we were. “I’m feeling better. You don’t have to stay with me every single night anymore, if you’d rather be at home.”
“Would you feel comfortable staying there with me?” He flashed a pleading grin.
“I don’t know…” I said with hesitation. But the constriction in my chest and throat told me that I did know. I wasn’t ready to go back there.
“That’s okay. Until then, I’m here with you.”
My brow crinkled. “I just don’t want you to feel obligated.”
“Taking care of you is my obligation, beautiful. And my pleasure.”
“Wow, obligation and job,” I said with a laugh. “You sure know how to make a girl feel special.”
“It’s my obligation to take care of my woman, and I take that job seriously.”
The feminist in me wanted to bristle at being called his woman. But every other part of me lit up like fireworks.