Chapter 7 Outside the Room #2
She dragged her palm down my chest. Her fingertips crossed my stomach and stopped at my waist, just above my trunks. Her wet hip settled against mine. The cold water on her skin had already warmed, and the weight of her body made my cock start to harden.
There was no innocent explanation left.
Jessa knew it too. Her eyes dropped to the front of my trunks, then rose to mine with open satisfaction.
Across the pool, Kit caught my eye. She didn't stiffen or call me over. She leaned into Poppy while they argued with Luna about the relay, smiled once at me, and returned to the conversation.
Vina stood beside the speakers with my stolen water bottle against her mouth. Her eyebrows went up when she saw Jessa's hand at my waist, but the rest of her expression said she found my predicament funny.
Luna noticed because Luna noticed everything involving her sisters. She watched Jessa for a beat, then took the towel Bristol handed her and started drying her hair.
Nobody came to save me from a woman I didn't want to be saved from.
Sam looked over the plywood counter and caught the direction of Jessa's hand.
“She knows what she's doing,” he mouthed.
Sally followed his stare and shoved a stack of cups into his hands.
"He knows what he's doing too, Sammy. Serve the line."
Sam turned to the waiting guests. Sally's hand landed at the small of his back as she moved behind him, steering him around the cooler with an ease neither of them seemed to notice.
Jessa's thumb traced the line above my trunks.
"You going to change the call?" she asked.
"No."
"Shame. I can be very persuasive."
"I'm beginning to understand that."
The nearest speaker crackled, went silent, then came back with half the bass missing.
Vina slapped the side of it. "Brew, the cord's loose again."
Jessa took her hand off me. The absence left my skin cold.
I walked behind the unfinished counter and followed the extension cord to the service side of the framing. It had pulled halfway from the outlet. I crouched, seated the plug, and looped the cord around the support so another wet foot couldn't knock it loose.
The full bass returned. The crowd cheered as if I had repaired civilization.
Blue light cut through the open framing in narrow bars. The pool remained ten feet away, visible between studs. I could hear Lucy demanding a rematch, Poppy laughing, ice hitting plastic cups, and Vina changing songs.
Jessa stepped into the service pocket behind me.
She hadn't wandered in looking for a drink. She had followed me away from one kind of noise to make another kind of offer.
"Got a minute, Brewster?" she asked.
I stood. The space between us had room for an answer and not much else.
"Yeah."
Jessa looked through the framing toward the women by the pool, then back at me.
"I know Kit, Poppy, Vina, Luna, Lucy, and Bristol are real," she said. "I heard Poppy on Monday. I saw all of you at Rosewater. I'm not confused, and I'm not asking you to lie about them."
"Good."
"I'm asking for one night."
She said it cleanly. No giggle. No performance for the party. Just a beautiful woman in a wet yellow bikini looking me in the eye and telling me what she wanted.
"No promises," Jessa continued. "No campaign for a seventh spot. No pretending one night makes me your girlfriend. I ask. You answer. Tomorrow we're still friends."
The pool flashed blue behind her. Water followed the curve of her waist and disappeared under the bright strap at her hip.
"And if the answer's yes?" I asked.
"Then I find out what all six of them already know." Her gaze dropped over my body. "Whether Smoke Show lives up to the advertising."
"You don't lack confidence."
"I have eyes."
Jessa crossed the last step between us and put both hands on my chest.
Her palms moved slowly over my pecs, thumbs brushing beneath the muscle. She squeezed once, enjoying the access, then slid down the ridges of my stomach. Her nails skimmed my skin. Every touch carried intention.
She didn't touch me like a woman checking whether the pictures had lied.
She took her time because she liked what she had found.
Her thumbs worked back across my chest. One nail traced the line below my ribs.
Water rolled from her forearms onto my stomach, cold against skin that kept getting hotter.
I knew exactly where I wanted my hands. The curve of her ass filled the yellow bottoms. Her breasts rose against wet fabric with every breath.
I wanted to drag her against me, find out how much of that bold laugh survived when I put my mouth on her, and let the next song play to an empty service pocket.
Wanting all of it made keeping my hands down a choice instead of an accident.
"I've watched women put their hands on you all night," she said. "I wanted to know whether you'd look at me the same way."
"How am I looking at you?"
"Like you're trying very hard to remember you're decent."
"I'm not struggling with decency."
"What are you struggling with?"
Jessa pressed her body fully against mine.
Her wet breasts flattened against my bare chest. Her hips settled to mine, soft and firm in all the places my hands would have wanted to test. Chlorine clung to her skin. Her breath warmed my throat.
My cock went hard against the front of my trunks.
Jessa felt it where our bodies met. Her lips parted. The victory in her eyes lasted only a second before desire replaced it.
"That," I said.
"Good."
She rolled her hips once, slow enough to leave no doubt that she felt every inch pressing between us.
My hands stayed at my sides. It took more effort than I wanted her to know.
Jessa caught one of my hands and set it against the bare side of her waist. She didn't move it onto her breast or under her bikini. She simply let me feel hot skin, the hard line of muscle beneath softness, and the tremor that ran through her when my fingers closed by reflex.
"You can touch me," she whispered.
My thumb moved once over her skin before I took my hand away.
"That's the problem."
"Doesn't sound like one."
She pressed harder into my erection. My cock throbbed between us. Her mouth hovered beside mine, glossy lips close enough that turning my head would have ended the argument.
Jessa's fingers traced my waist. "Tell me you don't want me."
I could have given her a clean lie. It would have made the next part easier for me and crueler to her.
"I want you."
Her eyes sharpened. "How much?"
"Enough that if things were different, you'd already be naked in my bed."
Jessa's breath caught. Her mouth moved closer to mine.
"Things can be different for one night."
"No."
"Your cock disagrees."
"My cock doesn't make promises. I do."
Her right hand stayed on my waist. Her left slid across my stomach toward the front of my trunks.
"Then let me make this easy," she whispered.
Her fingers reached the waistband.
Her mouth lifted.
I caught her wrist before her hand could dip inside and stepped back and sideways in the same movement, taking my hips and chest out of contact. Air opened between us. Her lips stopped short of mine.
Jessa went still.
I held her wrist without squeezing. Her pulse beat fast beneath my thumb. Her fingers remained curled toward the waistband they hadn't crossed. My own breathing had gone rough, and my erection pushed visibly against wet fabric.
Jessa leaned forward by an inch. I moved with her, keeping the same air between our mouths and my hips angled away from hers. The restraint was physical now. My hand, my feet, my answer.
Her gaze moved from my grip to my mouth. "You really are going to stop me."
"Yes."
"Can't?" she asked. "Or won't?"
"Won't."
The word landed between us with the bass from the pool.
Jessa searched my face. "Kit's rule?"
"Mine."
"She decides who gets in. Everybody knows that."
"Kit knows me better than anyone. That isn't the same thing." I loosened my grip but didn't release her until she stopped leaning forward. "I chose six women. Kit, Poppy, Vina, Luna, Lucy, and Bristol. They chose me too. I'm not adding another woman for a relationship or for a night."
"Even one you want."
"Especially when I want her. Otherwise, the choice doesn't mean much."
Jessa looked down at my hand around her wrist, then at the erection I hadn't managed to hide.
"That's a brutal mixed message, Brewster."
"It's one message. You're gorgeous. I want you. The answer's still no."
I released her.
Jessa pulled her hand back and crossed her arms. It wasn't anger. She was holding herself together while the party shouted ten feet away.
"I hate being outside the room," she said.
No joke softened it this time.
I remembered her against the Rosewater rail, green dress over a white bikini, telling me everybody else could see the women around me sharing something outsiders couldn't reach.
"I remember."
"You were already inside when I said it.
Poppy was inside before she even called you her boyfriend.
Lucy and Bristol are inside and they haven't gotten everything the others have yet.
" Jessa glanced through the framing. "I don't even want forever from you.
I wanted one night where I wasn't the loud girl standing at the door making everybody else laugh. "
"I hear you."
"Then don’t tell me you understand what that feels like."
"I wasn't going to."
That stopped her.
"Good," she said. "Because I didn't ask you to decide one night wouldn't be enough for me. I asked whether you wanted it too."
"I do."
"And you're still saying no."
"I'm still saying no."
Jessa let out a breath through her nose. "You make that sound simple."
"It isn't simple. It's clear."
"I liked you better when you were just hot."
"That was twenty minutes ago."
"A beautiful time."
I kept the space between us. "You asked me for one night and an honest answer. I can give you the answer. I can't open that door without lying about who I am to all seven of you."
"Seven?"
"The six women I made promises to, and the woman standing here trusting me to tell her the truth."