Jesse (Glass City Hearts Book 3) Page 10

  Jesse put his hand under my chin again, and my eyes followed the line of his hand, up his beard, until I was staring directly into his laughing face. I was close enough to smell the sugar smell again, and underneath that, the hint of tobacco.

  He must have had a cigarette not too long ago.

  “Hey,” he said, coming in for another gentle peck on my lips, probably because I hadn’t said no, nor had I acted like it wasn’t welcome. “I like your face.”

  I like your face? Who says I like your face?

  “Oh yeah?” I said, pulling out of his arms and searching for something cool to say in response. Coming up empty-handed because his kiss had stolen my breath and my brains, I said, “Well, I like your pie.”

  There was that damn smile again, and his eyes crinkled up at the corners. I reached out with my thumbs and touched those creases, smoothing them with my thumbs. Laugh lines. Jesse was a good-natured man who laughed a lot. I always thought I was attracted to a great build, or a handsome face, or a bad boy attitude. And even though Jesse was an attractive man, for some reason, those laugh lines turned me on like nothing else.

  “Far be it from me to dissuade you from putting your hands on my body,” Jesse waggled his eyebrows and I snatched my hands away, flustered. “But I have a cheese sauce on the stove right now and unless you want baked mac n cheese with no cheese, I need to go give it a stir.”

  Oh God, I was going to get so fat and I couldn’t wait.

  “Mac and cheese is probably my favorite food group.”

  “Baked mac and cheese with bacon, actually. Because why wouldn’t you put all the good stuff in if you can?” He stirred in a massive pile of shredded cheddar into a pot of already melted butter, pouring in some heavy cream and whisking it all together.

  “With bacon? Take me now, you kitchen stud you.” I’d meant it as a joke, I swear. But my voice had gone husky and low for some reason, and even though he had his back to me at the moment I could tell by his body language that my words did something to him. He froze, whisk in hand, his navy-blue shirt pulled tight against his shoulders.

  “Woman,” he growled. Something about that word, woman, sent shock waves through my body, starting in my chest and moving down to my toes. “You’d better be careful of your words or you’re going to find yourself flat on your back. I’ll feast on you for lunch, and then where will you be?”

  I took a couple of steps forward until I was standing directly behind him, and shocked by my own wanton actions, ran my finger from the small of his back, directly up the center and to his shoulder blades, smiling at the tremor that ran through his muscles. “Probably exhausted and happy.”

  What in the hell had come over me? I wasn’t like this, I didn’t do this. I didn’t go on dates, and I definitely didn’t proposition men after only meeting them a few times. What was wrong with me?

  The whisk hit the top of the white ceramic stove top with a clatter, and Jesse turned around with such speed that I didn’t have time to back up before he had his hands on both of my arms—firm, but not bruising. Walking me backward until I felt the smooth wood of the bench behind my legs and with a little push, I sat down at the kitchen table. Jesse’s eyes were blazing heat as he dipped his head and kissed me, fast and hard on the mouth.

  “You. Sit,” he growled through gritted teeth. “I’m trying to be good I swear to God, but you are making it extremely hard, Harlow. I’m trying to be a gentleman and take things slow with you, but here you come walking into my home looking like food. I’m fucking hungry, Harlow. So you. Sit. Do not move.”

  I did not move.

  I barely breathed as Jesse went back to the stove, picked up his whisk and stirred the cheese sauce. So that’s what happens when you poke the bear? I could still feel his hands on my arms and his punishing lips on mine. He’d been rough—but a good kind of rough. My skin had erupted into gooseflesh and I couldn't help but remember the primal way he'd spoken to me.

  Woman.

  It had been so long since I'd actually felt like one. Since I'd been free to entertain the thought. Things were going so well for JJ and me, I was almost giddy with joy. I was free, wild, and daring. I wanted to poke him again. I wanted to see, in this brief few hours of time that I had, just how much willpower that good-natured man with the laughing eyes had.

  Jesse finished making the cheese sauce and poured it over an already strained pot of macaroni noodles on the stove. He's been busy preparing already, I thought to myself. And I smiled, thinking about the care he put into just making a meal for us to share. He acted like it was no big deal, but he was really putting in an effort.

  The entire mess of noodles and cheese went into a square baking pan, and he topped it all off with breadcrumbs and a few dollops of butter on top. That was some hardcore mac n cheese he was making. The casserole dish went into the oven and the door shut with a bang. Jesse flung the oven mitts that were on his hands onto the side cart next to the stove and set the microwave timer for forty-five minutes. Frowning, he marched up to the table where I sat and grabbed my hand. "Come here," he said flatly and pulled gently, raising my butt from the bench and giving me no option but to get up and follow him from the room.

  He took me into the next room, which happened to be a beautiful sitting room looking out into a wooded backyard, complete with—yes—a small creek running through it. A large flat screen television hung over the fireplace and a brown leather couch and recliner faced both. He led me to the couch, and after I sat down, he sank into the cushions next to me and sighed heavily.

  "I'm finished putting lunch in the oven now, you may pet me as much as you want to."

  Swallowing the giggles that threatened to escape, I put on as serious a face as I could muster and asked, "But what if I don't want to pet you anymore?"

  His eyes widened, but to his credit, other than his nostrils flaring a bit Jesse made no indication that my words shocked him in any way. He produced a remote control from the small table in front of him. "Then shall we watch a little tv while the food cooks? I did some research on what kind of shows you might like." Jesse smiled and I could see the mischief in his eyes, "I've got Sesame Street, Paw Patrol, and Umie Zumie. I could probably find some Teletubbies if that's more your spee-"

  He didn't get to finish his sentence because I launched myself at him, straddling his lap and grabbing him by the face so I could attack his mouth with mine. He was playing with me, I knew it, and riding that wave of playfulness I gave in to the urge that I'd had since he kissed me the first time and pressed my body firmly against his in an effort to come as close to him as I possibly could while still fully clothed. I caught him by surprise, and I swallowed his moan, reveling in the delicious feelings it caused other places in my body.

  Jesse had made it clear that he wanted me. That he was trying to be good. I was only letting him know that he didn't have to try so very hard anymore. Good was okay. Now was time for bad.

  I wanted it.

  I needed it.

  I craved it.

  After a moment's hesitation, Jesse's iron control broke and his hands gripped my hips, his mouth responding hungrily to mine. His tongue pushed past my lips with no resistance whatsoever, and I let mine tangle with his, giving as much as I took. His hands moved up from my hips and around to grab my ass, his fingers digging into the flesh, pushing me down against his already prominent erection. It felt so good, that connection of our bodies, that I shifted slightly, dying for that little bit of friction to ease the building pressure inside me.

  Jesse's beard scraped the delicate skin of my neck, and I moaned as I moved against him, delighting in that abrasive feeling. The hands on my rear moved higher, to my waist, fingers digging at the cloth of my pantsuit and not finding a space to lift up and slide under. After several seconds of trying and a few grunts, he finally broke free and frowned at me.

  "What is this prison you are wearing?" The grumpy look on his face made me smile.

  "It's a jumpsuit—it's all one piece."


  "That sounds painful, you should get rid of it. Here, let me help you...how do you even get out of this thing?"

  I took pity on him in his moment of despair and reaching around to the halter around my neck I unsnapped the button on the top, then slid the zipper in the back down a few inches. The straps fell down and Jesse immediately grabbed them and pulled them all the way down to my waist. He couldn't go any further because I was still straddling his lap, but I have no doubt he would have stripped it straight to the floor had he been able.

  A low noise rattled around in his throat and Jesse's eyes zeroed in on my chest. For a minute I was uncertain. What would he think of my naked body? I wasn't curvy like Angel, or athletic like Jeanette. I was just kind of...straight up and down.

  "You're not wearing a bra," he rasped, thumbs resting on my ribcage under the gentle swell of my—smaller than I would have liked—chest.

  Embarrassed, I tried to cover my chest with my arms, but Jesse wouldn't let me. He wouldn't let anything impeded his view. "No bra," he murmured again.

  "Well, I don't really need to wear one. There's not much to hold up." Talking about my small chest made me feel miserable. My boobs had been normal before I got pregnant, then they swelled to abnormal proportions, then when I stopped nursing JJ they disappeared completely. I got jyped.

  Jesse's finally broke the staring contest he was having with my areolas and swung his gaze up to meet mine. "You go out like this all the time?"

  "What do you mean? Not wearing a bra? Yeah, most days I just wear a cami or something. It's no big deal."

  His thumbs massaged the underside of my breasts, moving slowly up the front. I leaned into his touch without meaning to. I couldn't help it, my body was reacting on its own, even as I argued with myself over my own insecurities.

  "So, every time I've seen you, even after your interview, all this time your tits have just been free – nothing holding them down?"

  "Yes, I told you I—" My words died on a gasp as Jesse dipped his head and sucked an entire breast into his mouth. Closing my eyes, I fisted my hands in his hair and held on for dear life as he used his tongue to drive me crazy, all while his lips were still sealed to my skin.

  "Jesus Christ."

  "Harlow, you've been keeping secrets," Jesse said as he finally freed me from the moist heat of his mouth, and I almost cried at the loss. He wasn’t done though, just taking a breath so he could give the other breast the same attention as the first. His fingers dug into the small of my back, pressing me down, guiding me to that sweet spot where he pushed against me in the most delicate of areas. His teeth grazed a nipple gently and I jerked my hips against him in response.

  “God, Harlow, you feel so good. I probably should stop though, before I go too far. I don’t want to do that with you. I mean, I absolutely do want to do this with you—but I want you to respect me in the morning if you know what I mean.” I ground my clit against his denim covered cock in response, and even though we were separated by several layers of clothes he still shuddered beneath me.

  “Fuck, I feel like a horny teenager right now, completely out of control,” Jesse breathed the words into the skin of my neck. “You’ve got to stop moving or I’m going to come in my jeans like a first timer.” He chuckled at the joke and nipped me playfully. He was kidding—I was not.

  “Jesse,” I pressed on him again, widening my stance and letting my knees slide open so I came down even more fully on his lap. “I haven’t had an orgasm in almost five years—not even on my own. I’m pretty sure I’ve reverted to being a first timer from lack of practice.” I put my hand between our laps and cupped his swollen cock through his jeans as he jerked and gasped in response. “So please don’t stop because of some moral obligation. Fuck me and I swear I’ll still talk to you tomorrow.”

  What whore words were coming out of my mouth? I mean I meant them but still.

  Growling, Jesse moved one of his hands to my hip, and pushed, grinding my pussy on his cock so hard I saw stars for a moment. The delicious friction felt so good I threw my head back and putting my hands on his chest, I rode him, keeping tempo with him as he moved his hips up to meet mine. This was what we were doing? I was so far gone I didn’t care. Nothing mattered to me at that moment more than feeling the hard length of his cock bumping against my swollen clit, even through several layers of clothes. He stayed with me, even as my breath started coming faster; until words were no longer possible and I was just making mewling noises like an animal. I was so close, so close to cresting that hill, and Jesse must have known because suddenly, and without warning, he fisted his hands in my long hair and pulled back, sharply. I gasped. There was a little pain but mostly surprise. There wasn’t time to react though, as he yanked my head back, exposing my neck, and pulling me down on his cock one last time, he bit me, hard on the neck, sucking the skin into his mouth and not letting go.

  The resulting orgasm was explosive. So much so that the sound of my cries completely drowned out the microwave timer signaling the mac n cheese was done.

  Afterward, when I finally had the strength to move from where I had collapsed on his chest, I asked breathlessly, “What about you? Let me take care of you.” I moved my hands to his zipper, but he stopped me, a slow smile spreading on his face.

  “While watching you come apart on my lap was pretty damn spectacular, I’m not so geeked about the method.” He laughed and kissed me, long and deep. “I’m saving myself for when we have more time. And for when I can get you completely naked.” He got up from the couch and stretched, extending his hand to help me up as well. “I want to taste you from the bottom to the top—and then back again. We don’t have time for that today, and I don’t like to be rushed.”

  It wasn’t until I had cleaned up and met him back in the kitchen that I saw the frown on his face. Thinking he was upset about what we had done on the couch, but being confused about it, I asked him what was wrong.

  “Bacon,” he grumped uncharacteristically.

  “What?”

  “I was too busy thinking about how bad I wanted to kiss you stupid and I forgot to put bacon in the mac n cheese.”

  I started laughing, but he didn’t join me. He really was upset that he had forgotten the bacon, and to him, it had ruined the lunch he had planned for me.

  “Jesse, next time I won’t let you forget the bacon, okay?”

  “Next time I’m going to fuck you senseless, and you won’t be in a position to remind me about anything.”

  Oh damn.

  12

  Jesse

  As much as I wanted to think of nothing but Harlow, the little sounds she made when I was touching her, and the way she fit against me perfectly—I couldn't. I couldn't think about much but the stack of invoices sitting on the desk in my office. The ones that hadn't been paid. The ones past due. The statements that said we were going to be a do not sell if they didn't start seeing some money come through pretty damn quick. And those were the patient vendors.

  Damn it, Dad.

  The good mood I'd been floating through for the last day and a half was dissipating, and that pissed me off. I wanted to hang on to it with both hands, maybe wear it like a sweater. Instead, I had to deal with my dad and his bullshit—not taking care of things he was supposed to be responsible for—ways. He was up early, at least for him, today too, normally he didn't wake up until the crack of noon, but here it was, ten in the morning and I could hear him rustling around the corner—probably getting ready to head over to Holly's Café a few streets over so he could get some food. My old man hadn't cooked himself his own meal in so long, I couldn't even remember.

  "Hey, Dad—can you come in here?" I yelled through the open office door. I heard a zipper slide shut and then I heard the sound of him stumbling into a bar stool and smashing his foot against the metal legs.

  "God—fucking—dammit! Shit. Yeah, Gimme a second." It wasn't a good sign if he was bobbing and weaving already this morning. Hopefully, he wasn't still drunk from the night
before, although I hadn't come to the bar and preferred to stay at home, relishing in the fact that my relationship with Harlow was progressing and she hadn't thought I was being too handsy with her. Maybe the next time she came over she could bring JJ with her, and we could go exploring in the creek. It wasn't big or dangerous or anything, but I bet there were exciting things for a four-year-old to find. It was cold but nothing had frozen over yet. I'd get him good and muddy and send him back to his mom.

  I was still laughing over the mental image when my old man popped his grizzled head into the office, and my laughter died in my throat. "What'd you need? I was on my way to breakfast."

  "This is gonna take a minute, Dad, I need to talk to you. Can you at least sit down?" I waved to the chair in front of my desk and he rolled his eyes at me as he sat down, his jacket making a suspicious clinking noise as his body slid into the chair and brushed against the wooden armrest. I acted like I hadn't heard a thing—for the moment.

  "Dad," I said, pushing the stack of unpaid invoices towards the end of the desk in front of him. "Want to tell me what's going on with these?"

  "First of all, don't talk to me like I'm an infant, Jesse. I own this bar, and I pay what I can pay. Don't talk to me like I'm a kid that's been misbehaving."

  "Then stop acting like one," I muttered under my breath. "I'm not talking down to you, Dad, but the bills aren't getting paid. I worked something out with Alex to get liquor last week, but we are getting put on the do not sell list with a lot of our vendors. I used my damn credit card – you gonna pay me back for that?"

  "I didn't ask you to do shit. If Alex wasn't going to sell to you, you should have just called another distributor—he's not the only game around." Dad stood up, his eyes bloodshot and his grey hair standing on end.

  "Alex has been doing this family and this bar favors for the last ten years, and you want to fuck him over because you are pissing away the money? What is this place to you? What are your relationships to you? That's not how things work, and PS, you've already burned those bridges with the other game in town, so you tell me, Dad, who else would you have liked me to call?" I stood as well and slammed my hands on the desk in frustration. I didn't want to do this. I didn't want to fight with my dad but fuck, he never listened. It always got turned around on me. I closed my eyes and waited for the inevitable guilt trip to come.