29. Leah Mae
LEAH MAE
T here was something about a man with manners.
Jameson Bodine left a trail of melted panties from the mountains of West Virginia all the way to sunny California.
From the ticketing agents, to the waitress in the airport restaurant, to the flight attendants on our cross-country flight, to the hotel staff in L.A.
He said pardon me , and please, and thank you ma’am in that adorable Appalachian drawl.
Tipped his hat. Gave them his boyish grin.
Didn’t want to trouble anyone for anything, but sure was grateful for it all, even when they were just doing their jobs.
I caught at least half a dozen women watching him with dreamy eyes. The flight attendants fawned over him. The waitress at the airport looked like she would have slipped him her number if I hadn’t been there.
The farther we got from Bootleg Springs, the more pronounced the Jameson effect became. The woman who checked us in at the hotel fanned herself—actually fanned herself—as soon as he started talking.
Maybe some women would be jealous of their boyfriend getting so much attention from other women.
Not me. I loved it. It wasn’t that I needed other women noticing him to realize what I had.
It was just so adorable. He clearly had no idea the effect he had on women.
I was sure that to him, he was just being polite.
He didn’t seem to notice their reactions at all.
And yes, I did indulge in a little satisfaction over knowing he was mine. Besides, I could hardly blame them. I found him irresistible, too. I was just the lucky girl who got to keep him.
“The hotel’s nice, at least.” He put our bags down and surveyed the room, his hands on his hips, a battered ball cap on his head. “I reckon we’ll be comfortable.”
Our room wasn’t fancy, but it did have a big king-sized bed with a fluffy white comforter. I kicked off my shoes and hung up my garment bag with my dress for tomorrow night.
It was strange being back in L.A. From the moment we’d walked off the plane, I’d felt odd.
I’d been hiding away from the outside world while I was in Bootleg Springs, and here I was, smack in the middle of it again.
I felt like a different person from the woman who’d been living here with Kelvin Graham.
Leah Larkin had been convinced she wanted to be famous.
She’d clung to a little girl’s dream long past the time she should have moved on.
Going home to Bootleg Springs had opened my eyes. It had reminded me of who I was—who I’d been before agents and managers and fashion clients had told me who to be. And that girl—Leah Mae—knew there was a better life for her out there somewhere. And it wasn’t chasing fame in Hollywood.
I had no qualms about walking away from this place—this life.
Leaving L.A. for good and finding a new dream.
The problem was, I still didn’t know where I was going.
Back to Bootleg Springs? To do what? I couldn’t very well just live in Scarlett’s cabin, date Jameson, and do nothing else.
I’d run out of money, for one. I’d earned a good living as a model, but my lifestyle with Kelvin had been expensive.
I certainly hadn’t earned enough to retire at twenty-eight.
And I had my dad to think about. He was getting better, but I wanted to be able to help him financially if he did get sick again.
It wasn’t just the money. I needed something—a vocation or a career. I needed to be productive. Have purpose to my life outside of the man I was dating.
I was still adrift, floating in a sea of indecision and uncertainty. I’d taken aptitude tests and career path quizzes. I had interests, and ideas, but I still felt like I didn’t know what to do with the rest of my life. And how that life could be lived in Bootleg Springs.
I loved Bootleg. It was home in a way no other place in the world would ever be.
But jobs in a small town were scarce. It had been easy to get lost in Jameson, and in Bootleg’s magic.
Where time seemed to move slowly, and the cares of the outside world weren’t so important.
I’d indulged in that for too long now, and soon I’d need to make some hard choices.
Jameson stretched out on the bed, and I hung his suit next to my dress.
We’d gone into Perrinville to buy it a few days ago.
Bootleg Springs didn’t exactly have a store with formal menswear.
I almost hadn’t recognized him when he’d come out of the dressing room.
It was the one good thing about this studio event.
I was definitely looking forward to seeing him all dressed up. Jameson Bodine cleaned up good.
Glancing over at him, I smiled. His ball cap had shifted partway down his forehead, almost covering his eyes, and he’d fallen asleep. I wasn’t surprised. It had been a long day.
I climbed onto the bed next to him and got comfortable.
I wasn’t sure how to properly express how much it meant to me that he was here.
A part of me didn’t want to face tomorrow.
I wanted to stay hidden—cozy up with Jameson in his bedroom and pretend the outside world didn’t exist. That I’d never done that stupid reality show, and no one believed I’d seduced Brock Winston and convinced him to cheat on his wife.
But like I’d told Jameson, that would be admitting defeat. I needed to show my face. Smile for the cameras. Get through this one last obligation, and I could finally be free.
Jameson’s chest rose and fell slowly. He looked so cute, lying there in his faded blue Support Local Farms t-shirt and worn jeans. He was about as out of place in L.A. as anyone could be. And it made me love him all the more.
I shifted closer, and he reached out to wrap an arm around me—drew me against his chest. His body was relaxed and warm.
I curled myself around him, nuzzling my face into his neck.
The stubble on his jaw was pleasantly rough against my cheek and he smelled so good.
I breathed him in as he traced gentle circles on my arm.
My lips found the sensitive skin at his throat. The vibration of his low groan tickled, lighting little sparks that raced down my spine.
His muscles flexed, and he pulled me on top of him. I took his hat off and tossed it on the floor. Those brilliant blue eyes took me in, devouring me with just a look. I loved seeing my desire for him reflected at me. It heightened my senses, awakening my body.
Letting my legs slide down each side of his hips, I pressed myself into his growing erection. He took my mouth in a deep kiss, groaning as I rubbed against him. Our bodies moved together, slowly—grinding and rubbing. Intensifying our need for each other.
I broke the kiss and crawled down his body. When I got to his waist, I pushed his shirt up, revealing the hard ridges of his abs. He groaned again as I ran my tongue along his skin.
His belt buckle clinked as I unfastened it. I opened the top button of his jeans and lowered the zipper. He dragged his teeth over his lower lip, watching me.
“Darlin’, I like where this is going.”
I licked my lips and smiled, then pulled his underwear down.
His cock was thick and hard. I ran my tongue up his length, reveling in his sharp intake of breath.
Grabbing him around the base, I licked him, paying special attention to the sensitive ridge around the tip.
His eyes rolled back, and he groaned again.
There was nothing like hearing him moan because of me. I took his cock into my mouth and moved slowly, teasing him. Gradually, I moved faster, plunging down, taking in as much as I could. I worked the shaft with my hand, letting the tip slide in and out of my mouth.
He moved his hips and stroked my hair. I picked up the pace, squeezing the shaft while I drew his hard length in and out. His cock thickened, stiffening with his impending release. I tasted his flavor on my tongue.
The feeling of his growing climax was intensely arousing. Pressure built between my legs, warm and insistent. My heart raced, and my cheeks flushed as I kept drawing his cock in and out of my wet mouth. Harder. Faster.
“Baby, I’m almost there,” he said.
His rough voice sent a thrill down my spine. He was breathless, losing control. His muscles flexed beneath me, his hips thrusting himself deeper. I moaned, feeling his cock begin to pulse.
The first spurts of come hit the back of my throat and he groaned, a low sound that reverberated through me, setting me on fire.
I took him all in, every last bit, reveling in the way it felt to give him this pleasure.
I loved it. He was lost, his body stiff, jerking into me as the orgasm overtook him.
When he finished, I slid his cock out of my mouth and quickly swallowed. He was breathing hard, his eyes glassy.
“Good lord, baby,” he said between breaths. “That was unbelievable.”
“I’m glad you liked it.”
I adjusted his underwear and crawled back up his body.
He rolled me onto my back and kissed me deeply, his tongue sweeping through my mouth with lazy strokes.
My body trembled with a rush of anticipation as he slid one hand up my thigh, beneath my skirt.
He nudged my legs open and stroked my clit with gentle fingers.
“These panties are awfully wet,” he said between kisses. “I reckon I ought to do something about that.”
He slipped his fingers beneath my panties and teased my clit, making me shiver and moan. His touch was soft, leaving me desperate for more.
Without warning, he pushed his fingers deep inside me. My back arched, and I groaned. I bucked my hips against his hand, seeking more—more friction, more pressure. He pumped his fingers in and out a few times while he nibbled on my bottom lip.
“I want a taste of you,” he said, drawing his fingers out. He brought them to his mouth and sucked my wetness off, closing his eyes and groaning. “God, you taste good. I need more.”