29. Capri
29
CAPRI
I feel the itch to rearrange everything.
My desk. The chairs. Circle time. All of it.
It’s the first week of school for teachers before students come back, and I’m working tirelessly to prepare my classroom for a new set of kindergarteners.
Kindergarten is the fun year for kids, but also the year that is pivotal in starting their primary years.
It’s the year teachers find out how well preschool equipped them, or didn’t, in some cases.
I love it.
I love developing relationships with kids on different levels and doing what I was taught to do in order to make learning fun for them. Something I didn’t get much support in growing up.
I remember my middle school math teacher calling me stupid in front of the class. It’s a horrible memory I’ll never forget. I can tell you exactly what I was wearing, what Mrs. Duncan was wearing, and what we were learning.
Those are the traumas I vowed to never let a child experience on my watch. I do it for Stevie, but I also do it for me.
I specialize in working with children who have learning differences and need the tools and skills to reach their fullest potential.
My classroom is a hands-on station for every type of learner.
Colors and patterns linger everywhere that meets the eye.
Right now, I’m putting everything into this bitch of a desk, trying to move it to the other side of the room.
“Just a little further…” I breathe out, giving it my best effort, only for it to move nowhere.
“Don’t work too hard.”
I whip my head toward the door. “You.”
“Me.” Jones grins. “Nice room.” He walks in like he owns the place, much too big for a child-size classroom. Thank God for that because I could use a man’s muscles right about now.
“How’d you find me here?” I smile.
“Small town.” He smirks. “Didn’t take much asking around to find out which school was yours. Figured I’d help you out.”
Big, beautiful butterflies soar through my belly faster than my heart can catch up.
“Come make yourself useful then, old man.”
His smirk does things to me. “Put me to work.”
Oh, I’d love to. In more ways than one.
Jones helps me rearrange my entire classroom to perfection. I hardly lift a finger and get to enjoy the view.
His thick, muscular thighs are hugged by formfitting jeans, accompanied by work boots and a plain black tee. I’m not sure if it’s possible, but he looks bigger. Stronger than even the last time I saw him.
Maybe it’s because he’s in my classroom doing the Lord’s work and all that.
At the last minute, I purchased a new fridge for my room. Technically, we’re not allowed, but most of the teachers have them and administration has yet to say anything about it.
I’ve been wanting one, so I finally splurged.
But this thing is a pain to move. It may be small, but it is mighty. “If we can just fit it into that space right there,” I say, pointing to the little nook in my supply closet. “We’ll be done.”
“I got this,” Jones says, and I hang back, watching him manhandle the fridge like it’s nothing.
He tucks it into place, plugs it in, and makes sure it’s running. It’s the little details of care I notice with him.
His intentions.
“Perfect,” I say, glancing around the small closet.
“Almost.” Jones reaches into his pocket, pulls out a white square, and places it on the center of the fridge. “There. Now, it’s perfect.”
#1 Teacher. Did he…? “Did you pick this out for me?” My breath gets caught in my throat.
“Nah. Bought it for Romeo. He’s got a thing for hot teachers.”
I giggle, the gesture not lost on me. “Funny thing is, you’re not wrong.” Jones laughs, and I stand in front of him, unsure of how to best articulate how much it means to me.
The smallest gestures mean everything . Often more than the big.
“You thought of me,” I tell him, a smile cresting my lips.
Jones nods. “Are you surprised by that?”
“Not one bit,” I say honestly. “Thank you for the most thoughtful gift.”
“It’s nothing,” he says. “I know it’s nothing fancy, but it made me think of you.”
“I don’t need fancy. Just you.” That’s the most honest I’ve been about my feelings toward Jones yet.
I can tell my words cause him to stumble slightly, likely thrown off by how forward that was of me. I’ve been adamant about keeping my feelings in check, but I’m struggling more than I imagined to keep quiet about them.
Jones gives me a few seconds to take back my words. “I’m gonna kiss you now. Tell me to stop…” he murmurs quietly, the tiny closet making this moment feel that much more intimate.
He leans in, and his large hands cup my face like I’ll flee if he doesn’t hold me with everything he has.
Not a chance, Captain.
“Make it a good one.” I smile, and that’s the only confirmation he needs. Jones’ mouth meets mine, and it feels like coming home. Like waking up from a dream and finding my happiness at the end of it.
“Fuck. I missed this,” he groans. His hands sweep through my hair as his tongue collides with mine. Our kiss is needy. The intense longing has broken, and we’re finally back in sync.
My moans echo throughout the closed space, and our lips never part. Just when I think we’ll take it farther, Jones pulls away, kissing me lightly and pulling me into his chest. “God, how I’ve missed you, Capri.”
“It feels good to be missed,” I reply.
Although, I never want to be missed by him again.
* * *
“I’m impressed by you,” Jones tells me as we plop down on my bed. “I would have loved to have you as a teacher,” he says sincerely.
After finishing up in my classroom, I insisted Jones come back to my place for some celebratory beers. Everything is rearranged and ready for the new school year.
“Thanks,” I say proudly, thinking back to how great my classroom looked when we left. “I’m really proud of it. Just a little stressed, but that’s normal before the first week.”
“About what?” he asks before I run to the kitchen and grab a six-pack of beer, placing it between us. Jones smirks. “Always trying to get me drunk, sweetheart.”
I laugh, propping myself up against the soft comforter. “Hey, I’m a tired teacher who deserves this beer. However much you decide to drink is on you,” I tease him.
Jones takes the lead, twisting off our caps and handing one to me. “Cheers, then,” he says, clinking our bottles together. “Tell me what’s making you so stressed.”
I shrug, deflating a little. “I always feel like this before the year starts. The summer is such a nice break from teaching, and when it comes to an end, I almost feel depressed.” I chuckle lightly. “Feels silly to say, but this summer was a really great one.”
I don’t miss the smile of pride Jones gives me. He knows it’s because of him. Our time in Capri and the last month he’s been here.
“I get that. That’s how I felt after you left Italy. Like a lost puppy or some shit.” He laughs, and it’s full and inviting.
“The feeling was mutual.” There’s a moment of silence between us. Our time together in Capri feels sacred. Something we both clearly cherish but know is touchy to bring up now.
I continue, “I think the stress comes from the unknown. New year, new challenges and all that. I’ve been running myself ragged all week and the school year hasn’t started yet. I’m just tired.” I exhale, feeling more exhausted than ever.
My conversation with Collie the other night only adds to the anxiety I feel. I won’t tell Jones that, though.
But I’m questioning everything. Overanalyzing everything.
It’s what I do.
What if I open my heart to him? Will he leave, and that will be the end of us? Or would we both prioritize each other enough to make it work? Does Jones actually want to be with me, or does he just want to fuck me?
There’s a difference, and I’m scared to be vulnerable again to know the answer.
My gut tells me Jones is not that man. Kissing him earlier today did me no favors, but it did make wanting him a hell of a lot easier.
“Wanna know what I think?” he asks, and I nod my head.
He turns to set his beer down and reaches for my hand. “I think you’ve spent enough time doing things on your own. Uncontrollable stress is too much for one person to carry. Don’t carry it alone, Capri.”
He always knows the right thing to say.
“I wish I was wired like that,” I snort. “I’m not sure I can.”
“Do you trust me?” His green eyes are filled with so much understanding. I’ve never met a man who gets me like Jones does. To the point where no explanation is ever needed.
I’m quick to respond because I’m pretty sure there’s no man I trust more. “Yes.”
Jones lifts himself from the bed and stands before me, intention laced in his heated stare.
His confident voice has my body buzzing. “I want you, Capri.”
I could die hearing those words alone and be happy. “Lay back for me, sweetheart. Okay?”
“Jones,” I whisper, knowing where this is going. If he touches me like I think he’s going to, I’ll be done for. There will be no ‘will I fall for him or not?’ I’ll be a goner.
Signed, sealed, and delivered to Jones Archer.
I told him I trust him, and now it’s time to show it. He grabs my beer and sits it on the nightstand before looming over me again. I’m awkwardly still, unsure of what to do with myself.
But Jones has plans.
His large hands lift my legs to keep them bent in front of me, the rest of my body sprawled across the bed. He uses our proximity to his advantage and runs comforting strokes up my calves.
“Relax for me,” he says, his voice soothing.
The setting of the sun gives the room a sensual ambiance. But it’s the tone of Jones’ voice and the command of his hands that transport me to complete tranquility.
“Just clear your mind. Don’t think about anything else but what my hands are doing to your body. Okay?”
“Okay, yeah…”
I close my eyes and let him lead. It feels incredible to hand it over.
His hands find the top of my thighs, rubbing soft circles around my knees then massaging the muscles in my calves. “That feels nice,” I whisper.
Jones travels his hands to the globes of my bottom and gives them a gentle squeeze, kneading circles into the tense muscles. “Am I hurting you?” he asks caringly.
“Not at all.” The buzz running through me sends warm tingles up my spine.
I’m trying not to let my mind drift into off-limits territory, but my core is throbbing. I haven’t been touched since Italy, and he’s been what my body is missing.
All that kiss did was stir me up inside. Tease me.
A moan slips from my lips, and my eyes bulge open, checking to see if he heard me or not.
Spoiler alert: he did.
Jones swallows slowly, and my eyes follow the Adam’s apple at his throat as it throbs steadily.
Fuck. I want him so badly. To consume me.
“Helping?” The edge to his voice tells me he’s fighting. Fighting the urge to take things further and touch me how he wants to.
Fortunately for him, I’m also tired of fighting.
Right now, I want to feel good, and I want Jones to be the one to make it happen.
Gathering the courage, I let my legs fall open, the fabric of my shorts riding up the apex of my thighs.
Jones doesn’t miss it for a second, his eyes drawing to my center and his teeth biting his lip in restraint. “Capri,” he lets out on a strangled groan.
“Please, Jones.” I whimper. “Touch me. Make me feel good.”
“Sweetheart…I thought…I don’t want you to feel pressured to?—”
“I want you, Jones. I’m just…tired of fighting it. Fighting how much I want you. Please.”
That seems to be the only consent Jones needs before his palms meet the inside of my thighs and head straight for my pulsing core. “I’m gonna give you what you need, Capri. But I want you to promise me you’ll speak up if it’s too much.”
“Never.”
He chuckles. “Fuck. I’ve missed you like this. Christ.”
I’m still fully clothed but I’ve never felt more exposed. In the most glorious way, too.
Carnal Jones is my favorite version of him.
He pulls the band of my shorts, dragging down my panties along with, and leaving me bare before him. “Fucking hell.” His thumbs separate the lips of my pussy and he drinks in the sight of me.
Pink cunt spread wide and glistening with need for him.
“You’ve felt so far away.” His words are hoarse, straining between us as the tension intensifies. “All I’ve wanted to do is pull you close and never let you go. See you let go of control and let me have you. Show you what it feels like to be with a man who will adore you.”
The moan that escapes me is full of pleasure and anticipation. It’s been too long, and I need him to do with me what he claims he’s wanted to do.
Make me his. Again, that is.
Jones settles himself under my legs and inhales the scent of my arousal.
I feel feverish. Like the only thing that can cure the ache is his mouth.
“Jones,” I cry out.
“Right here, sweetheart. Just soaking in the sight of you. Pussy quaking and needy pink lips begging me to have a taste.”
“Oh, god.”
His tongue swipes up my center and my body is brought back to life. Resurrected from the fucking dead and made right with the man my heart has searched for all this time.
Jones is relentless. Ravenous for all of me. A growl erupts from his lips with a vibration that causes my body to tense, and I feel my orgasm spring on already.
“I’ve fucking missed you. Missed this pussy.”
His tongue makes delicious work of my center before spearing my opening and plunging deep. “I want your cock,” I tell him because my mind is not my own at the moment. “No one…no one can fuck me like you do.”
The urge to come is too great.
“You’re damn right, sweetheart. This is what giving over control feels like. Feels fucking freeing, huh?”
“Yessss.” He laps up my wetness and his eyes lift to meet mine. Although we’re both lost in a haze, the sincerity in his eyes isn’t lost on me. Jones gazes at me like someone would a person they spend every hour thinking about.
Someone they adore.
Someone they care deeply for.
Someone they see standing on the edge of eternity with.
It’s an unfamiliar feeling for me. I spent years pouring all of myself into a loveless marriage, and all I ever wanted in return was an equal partnership.
One like Jones has offered me from the start. It may not have been a serious relationship in the beginning, but he accepted me as I am, and even then, I never once felt alone.
“Let it all go, Capri. Let yourself feel.”
Two thick fingers enter my opening and curve, meeting the spot that sends me over the edge.
“Ohhhh. Jones. I’m…I’m…”
He finds my clit and rolls the swollen bud between his teeth. My whole body rolls in waves of euphoria as tingles rush down my spine and my toes curl.
“Yes you are, beautiful girl. You’re coming on my tongue as you should.”
Once my breathing steadies, I expect Jones to pull away, but he doesn’t. He licks me clean, leaving no trace of my cum behind. He sucks his fingers to the knuckle and I’m ready for round two.
The bulge in his jeans confirms how turned on he is, and I feel like a cheat. I nod before saying, “Let me help you out with that.”
Jones grins and runs a hand through his thick locks. “Up.”
I love when he demands things from me. He pulls my panties and shorts up, righting them into place before placing a soft kiss on my stomach. “Next time.” He grins. “Consider it an IOU.”
“But it won’t take long,” I argue, clearly starving myself.
He laughs. “Oh, I’m aware. Pretty sure I could bust in my jeans right now.” Jones pulls me in for a hug before whispering into my hair. “We have nothing but time, sweetheart. I want you to be ready. That’s important to me.”
How can I even argue with that?
He’s saying everything I could ever want.
“Okay, then. Consider me in your debt.” I smile.
“Just one more thing.” My brows rise.
“Permission to kiss you again? Cause I’d really fucking like to, Capri.”
The light in my eyes is all the confirmation he could ever need.
Kissing Jones again feels right. Like I’ve waited my whole life to be kissed like this.
My only worry is, will it last?