Jade
Chapter sixteen
It's the lack of noise that wakes me up; it always does when I sleep at Addie's. No neighbors yelling or cars racing down the street. No loud ass television seeping through paper-thin walls.
The quiet isn't empty though, it's comforting.
Coop is asleep next to me, so I carefully reach for my phone on the nightstand. Six oh three. It's Saturday, why the hell am I up so early? I should go back to sleep, but I have to pee.
I climb out of bed carefully and take my phone to the bathroom with me so I can see if Addie sent me the photos she took last night.
Last night was a lot of fun. It was nice to hang out with my friend and not worry about Coop.
Because I didn't. Not once. I pee and wash my hands and then lean back on the counter to check for the pictures.
What I don't expect is a text from Mateo.
Mateo
If you ever want to stop playing with boys, you know where to find me.
What the fuck?
What does that—oh.
Okay, no. Just confront him, Jade. Confront him and tell him no. It's not on the table. Why? One, he's Addie's brother. Two, he's too old for me. And three, he's my fucking boss. I'm sure there are more reasons, but my brain is still asleep.
I listen but don't hear anyone else moving. Yup, we're going to go wake his ass up and tell him no. But first, I'm going to brush my teeth.
I won't analyze why I care about my breath.
I comb my fingers through my hair and put it in a quick messy bun. No reason. It's habit.
The stairs don't creak when I walk down them.
Yet another difference between my apartment and this house.
I step carefully anyway, not wanting to wake anyone.
Except Mateo's in the kitchen when I get downstairs.
His bare back is to me. Those fucking gray sweatpants hung low on his hips.
He stretches his arms over his head, the muscles in his back flexing with the movement.
I want to trace them with my fingers. No, I want to draw them. Silently, I snap a photo with my phone.
For the art.
Or to pick on him for being a Calvin Klein ad. Either works for me.
"Coffee?" he asks, looking over his shoulder and meeting my gaze.
"How did you know it was me?" I ask, shaking my head no and walking around the island to face him.
"Process of elimination," he says. He takes a mug out of the cabinet and pours himself a cup of coffee. "Addie or Cooper would've clobbered down the stairs, and there's no way Mom and Dad are up this early after not getting home until one. And besides…" He shrugs. "You smell."
"Excuse me?"
He laughs and walks to the fridge, opens it, and pulls out a Red Bull and half and half.
"Not bad," he says. "Distinct. Brown sugar and cayenne, sweet but spicy." He knows what I smell like? I can't do this. Nope, I'll quit. I'll go back to bartending. It's worked this long. It can keep me and Coop going.
He cracks the Red Bull, slides it over to me, and adds cream to his mug. No sugar, which is diabolical, but whatever. I take a sip from the cold can and lean back on the counter.
"What the fuck is this?" I ask, opening my phone to his text and holding it out to him.
"What the fuck is what?" He takes my phone from my outstretched hand.
I try to read his reaction, but I'm not sure what I see there.
He drags his tattooed hand over his jaw, which is no longer covered in scruff, but a full-grown beard.
Is that a smile he's hiding? He places the phone between us on the counter and sips his coffee.
I wait.
And wait.
He puts the mug down and places his palms on the counter, leaning forward. The muscles in his shoulders flex.
"Hello?" I say.
"I like you, Jade. And behind that bad bitch exterior, I think you like me too." His blue eyes search my face, and he licks his lips.
This isn't happening.
"I think we're drawn to each other, and listen, if I'm way off base, we can move on. But if I'm not?" His head tilts in question.
I narrow my eyes at him, but he's not meeting my gaze.
No, his eyes are zeroed in on my lips. I stop playing with the ring, and he snaps his attention back to me.
Fuck, he looks like an animal waiting to be released from a cage, and my body is begging for it.
I gulp down any pride I had before I walked into this room.
"If you're not, we're two consenting adults," I say.
"Two consenting adults," he repeats. "I'm drawn to you. You're drawn to me." He straightens and rounds the corner of the island, moving closer. Instinctively, I step forward. I stopped backing down a long time ago.
"So friends with benefits?" I ask. "No feelings. Strictly sex?"
"No feelings?" he asks, closing the distance between us.
"It's not a relationship. And Addie can never know."
"What if that's what I want? A relationship…with you?" He tries to cage me against the counter, but I hold up my hand to stop him.
"You don't," I tell him.
"I don't think you know me well enough to know that." Mateo gently takes my wrist and pushes it aside, closing in on me.
"I'm a mess."
"One that I desperately want to kiss." He bites the corner of his lower lip.
"So what's stopping you?" I ask. A challenge.
"Feelings."
"No feelings," I say.
"No promises," he counters.
"When's the last time you got laid?"
He grins, his mischievous one, and I can see the younger man he used to be.
"You want to fuck me. You want to ride me," he says in a sing-song voice.
"I want an orgasm I didn't self-inflict, there's a difference," I say.
"If I say no feelings, can I kiss you now?"
He must get the answer he wants from the look on my face because suddenly his lips hit mine.
And I'm kissing him back.
He tastes like coffee, and although I've never had a taste for it before, I think it's my new favorite flavor. His lips are soft, tentative at first. But then his tongue sweeps across mine, and he pulls back, sucking the hoop in my lip into his mouth with a groan.
Mateo presses his forehead to mine.
"I've wanted to do that since the moment I saw you," he admits.
"What else?" I ask.
"Oh, Storm Cloud, I've got plans for you."
"Then you should stop talking and start doing."
He licks his lips and shifts to standing tall, placing his hands on my waist and lifting me to sit on the island. I'm not a small woman so the move is shocking. My height alone is enough to stop most men from picking me up, and yet he did it injured.
"Dude, no, you're still—"
Mateo pushes my knees apart with his hands and steps between my legs.
"Tell you what," he says on a breath. "Call me dude any other time you want, but not when I'm about to make you come."
"We'll see about that, Mateo," I say his name pointedly and watch as his eyes darken in the morning light.
"Yeah, you need to work on that one," he says.
Need to work on, what? He doesn't let me linger on the thought for long as he sweeps his tongue down my neck. He skates a hand up my bare thigh, and I watch as it disappears beneath the leg of my sleep shorts.
"Back on your elbows," he whispers.
When I don't move, he removes his hand and gives me a pointed look.
"I can go back to my coffee, and let you take care of this yourself," he says.
"You're an asshole," I say, leaning back.
Mateo slides his hand back up the leg of my shorts, and I'm grateful I packed these yesterday and not a tight pair.
He brushes a finger over me, and I suck in a breath.
I can't remember the last time I let someone touch me.
I should be concerned I'm sitting on my best friend's kitchen counter while her brother—oh god—pushes my panties to the side and grazes a finger over my clit.
A small moan escapes my lips, and Mateo silences it with a hand over my mouth.
"Quiet," he says, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. His voice is firm, deeper than usual.
My body has a mind of its own as it presses back against his fingers between my legs. He removes his hand from my mouth, trailing it down my chest, cupping my breast over my T-shirt.
He pushes a finger inside me, and I bite back a cry. His chest rises and falls, slowly, almost calculating.
"Are you holding back for me or yourself?" I ask. "I won't break."
Because I'm already broken.
Mateo pushes my shirt up over my breasts, his eyes trained on them as he adds another finger and increases his speed.
He drags his thumb across my clit as he pumps.
His touch is electric on my skin, bringing nerve endings to life that haven't felt a man's touch in ages.
I'm so close, and it takes me by surprise.
He's beautiful with his hair a morning mess, and I hate how badly I itch to draw him. The beard makes me desperate to have his face between my legs, working my clit with his tongue instead of his finger.
"Fuck." I bite down on the word, muting it.
Mateo's eyes meet mine, and he flashes a lopsided smile revealing his imperfect perfection. The fucker knows I'm close, and I hate him for it.
He shifts his angle and moves his other hand up my stomach, settling on a naked breast. He teases it, swirling his thumb around my nipple. I swallow, and he applies pressure to my clit, curling his fingers inside me.
My entire body shudders as I come.
He pulls his hand from between my legs and tugs at my nipple with the other.
"So friends with benefits," he says. "Does this mean we're friends?"