A. Jackson - When We Met

Kier’s fingers curled under my chin, turning my head in his direction. “Don’t judge me based on this, or them. All this”—he gestured toward the house—“used to mean something to me, but it doesn’t anymore. I just stay here during the breaks.”

Nodding, I leaned forward and captured his lips for a few seconds. “I know it doesn’t.”

“Come on, let’s get in there. It’s gonna be cold, but I’ll turn the heat up and get a fire going.”

As I followed him out of the car and up the walkway to the door, everything about the massive house faded from my mind as I remembered what our arrival here meant. We were finally away from the houses in Ann Arbor, we were alone, and good God, Kier couldn’t open that door fast enough.

“Balls, it’s cold!” I screeched when we stepped inside.

“It will be warm in no time. Give it maybe ten minutes. It’ll be perfect. Come on, I’ll show you where our room is.”

Our room. Our room. Again everything slipped from my mind as heat rushed through my veins in anticipation.

Kier stopped twice on the way to change thermostats before we entered a room that was as big as three of mine back in the Ann Arbor house, and that wasn’t including the bathroom attached to it.

Pressing a kiss to the side of my neck, he gripped at my hips before whispering in my ear, “Get settled in. I’m gonna go check everything and start a fire.”

“’Kay,” I said breathily, swaying a little when he moved away from me.

When he was gone, I looked around the room for a couple of minutes, but there wasn’t much of Kier’s childhood in there—and I figured that had more to do with him wanting to forget it than it did his parents not being a big part of his life. I walked into the bathroom, and my eyes widened when I saw the massive garden tub and shower, and I thought I’d died right then and gone to heaven.

Looking into the bedroom, I worried my bottom lip as I eyed the shower again. Not letting myself think on it any longer, I reached in and turned it on. With how cold it was in the house, a hot shower in this shower was too good to pass up—especially when we’d been in a car for close to four hours.

I waited until steam was billowing out above the glass before stepping out of my clothes and piling my long hair on top of my head. My body shook as I tested the temperature of the water with my fingers before stepping in, and the sting of the heat against my freezing skin burned for long moments until my body got used to it—and then I was in heaven. I hadn’t even seen the closet and it didn’t matter—this shower was all I needed to decide this was my favorite room. Ever.

The door to the shower opened, and I instinctively covered myself as I turned away from where Kier was standing. My eyes widened as my gaze trailed down his long, naked body. My breathing deepened when his golden eyes heated and he stepped inside the shower, shutting the glass door behind him. I swallowed roughly as he pressed himself behind me, and looked up just in time for him to drop his head and press his mouth firmly to mine.

A moan moved up my throat, getting lost in the kiss as his tongue teased mine in unhurried strokes. His hands moved around to the front of my body, sliding over where my arms were still covering myself—and at the reminder, I shakily moved them away, bringing my hands up to fist in his hair as he deepened the kiss.

One hand made a path down my stomach as the other moved up to my breasts, and I broke away from the kiss on a huff when his fingers spread me apart, stroking me and circling my clit just as slow as his tongue had been circling mine. I widened my stance, and my back arched off him when he pressed two fingers inside me.

“Kier,” I breathed before his mouth captured mine again.

His arm was pressed against my wet breasts, trailing up my chest so his hand could lightly trace the front of my neck as he demanded more from the kiss, and I gave everything I had. My hips rocked against his hand and his thick erection pressed against my bottom as hot water pelted down on us. I felt like I was losing myself in Kier, and I loved it and the way it felt like he couldn’t get enough of me.

For the first time in a long while, I was enough for someone . . . more than enough.

My head fell back against his shoulder as the knot in my belly grew, and the hand resting on my neck slowly trailed down toward my chest as he nibbled on the soft spot behind my ear.

“Come on, Indy. Let go for me.”

His thumb pressed against my clit as his fingers moved harder, faster, and I fell apart with a cry as my body shattered. When I was limp in his arms, he reached in front of us to turn off the water before turning me around and wrapping his arms tight around me.

I looked up to see him smirking at me, his golden eyes bright as he stepped out of the shower with me still in his arms. Grabbing a towel, he dried us off through lingering kisses before dropping the towel on the floor and taking my hand in his, leading me back into the warmed-up bedroom.

He started to let go of me, his body moving in the direction of a set of dresser drawers, and I knew what he was doing. Not pushing me, but making sure I wanted this just as bad as he did. Holding tight to his hand, I pulled him back to the bed and pushed him down until he was sitting on it.

“Are you—”

“Yes,” I said, cutting him off. “I want this. I want you.”

Leaning forward, I teased his lips as I climbed onto the bed, placing a knee on either side of him. He smiled through the kiss and scooted back on the bed before lying down and bringing me closer to him. I took the tie out of my hair, letting it fall down around my shoulders and back as I curled my body over Kier’s and positioned myself above him. He ran his hands through my hair, letting them trail down my waist to my hips, his fingers flexing against the skin when he got there, and then he guided me down on top of him.

Kier groaned as I took him inch by inch, and when I was fully seated on him, he kept me there—not moving—as his eyes held mine, his chest rising and falling heavily before he quickly sat up, crushing his mouth to mine.

A surprised gasp left me and turned into a laugh, and then a moan when he gripped my hips harder and moved me off him, only to push me right back down.

“Oh God,” I whimpered against his lips as I took control and started moving on top of him.

Soon kissing became too difficult as we struggled to breathe, and I pressed my forehead to his seconds before Kier rolled us over. Dropping his head into the crook of my neck, he trailed his hand up my leg to curl around my knee, bringing it up around his hip as he moved inside me. His pace quickened and his grip on my body tightened before he stilled above me as he found his release.

As his body slowly relaxed, he placed a line of kisses across my collarbone and up my throat until he reached my lips, his body stilling when he saw the tears in my eyes. “Are you okay?”

I brushed my hands through his hair and smiled against his lips. “More than okay.”

“Indy,” he crooned, and cupped my cheeks. “Then why do you look like you’re about to cry?”

My head shook back and forth as I tried to find the right words to say, and finally I just locked my eyes with his and whispered, “Thank you for saving me.”

His body sagged in relief, and he kissed me soundly. “I’ll always save you.”

Courtney

“What can I get you?”

“How about something hot and spicy like you?”

“Really? That’s the best line you got?” I asked the guy who’d been hitting on me the last couple of nights. “I think I heard that one from a balding used car salesman back in high school when I waited tables at Denny’s.”

His friends, who’d been egging him on a few seconds ago, hooted with laughter. “Dude, I told you you’d be toast again,” one of them said, clapping him on the back.

Mr. Flirt didn’t seem to mind the razzing, shooting me a slow grin as he sat back in his seat. I bit back a snort. Guys were so typical. They gave you a little wink and a smile and somehow convinced themselves your panties would drop. I played the game, though, and gave him a coy smile in return. “Besides, you’re not ready for this kind of heat. I’ll bring you some volcano wings,” I added, bumping his shoulder with my hip. Just the mere suggestion that he had any kind of chance lifted his spirits once again as everyone at the table high-fived like they had just scored some sort of victory. It was all part of the waitressing game. Tease them just enough that they keep coming back for more, all in the name of good tips. It really wasn’t much of a hardship for me. I’d been waitressing since I was fifteen, so I was a pro at working the customer. Not that I didn’t deserve the tips I earned. I worked my ass off, always had. Even back in high school, my manager at Denny’s loved me because I never called in sick or missed a shift. At fifteen, I’d been more responsible than most of the employees he kept on staff.

Things were the same at Gruby’s, the loudest and busiest sports pub around campus. I’d only been working here for a couple of months, but my manager, Chris, pretty much gave me any hours I wanted. With money always so tight, if I wasn’t in class or sleeping, I tried to be here, squeezing in homework and studying during breaks. The holidays had basically wiped me out financially, so I’d been working nonstop since Christmas. For the past three weeks, the only time I’d seen my three roommates was to say a quick good-bye on my way out, or a tired good night when I got home. Lately, the house we all shared had become nothing more than a place for me to shower and then fall into bed.

I finished taking the guys’ orders around several more innuendos before walking away. I could feel their eyes all over my ass without turning around to look.

“How’s it going?” my best friend and fellow waitress, Amanda, asked, grabbing a bottle of ketchup from the servers’ station.

“Typical. They’re all God’s gift to women with heaven in their pants.”

“It’s jock syndrome. Don’t you just love basketball season? I swear this school acts like the sun rises and sets on their players’ asses.”

“It’s all about the money, babe. The university isn’t stupid.” Not that I didn’t agree with Amanda, one hundred percent.

“Preach it, sister.”

Amanda was putting on a show for my benefit. I knew from experience that she was all about the basketball team. She was one of those hard-core supporters who painted her cheeks for every game and cheered as loud as anyone when the games were televised on the big screens scattered throughout the restaurant.

“Who are you trying to kid? We all know you love the players in more ways than one,” I teased, wagging my eyebrows. I filled my drink order and placed the glasses on the round tray I was expertly balancing on my hip. “I bet you’re already scouting for your next recruit.”

She grinned. “Well, now that you mention it . . .” Her voice trailed off as she looked over her shoulder.

“Come on. Don’t keep me in suspense.”

“I’ll fill you in later. I need to deliver this check to table six before they have a fit.”

I shook my head, watching her walk away. Over the past year that we’d been friends, I’d watched her fall for at least half a dozen guys. She claimed dating someone taller than her was a must, which was why she always went for athletes, especially basketball players. I tried to put myself in her shoes, but I couldn’t see anything bad about being a long-legged five-foot-nine goddess. At five foot nothing, I was shorter than pretty much every guy on campus. Mom called me pixie cute, which was a nice way of saying I was short.

After delivering drinks to the flirty table, I headed over to greet another group that had been seated in my section. Within twenty minutes, the restaurant was packed as the dinner rush began. Amanda and I didn’t have another chance to talk other than to exchange notes on particularly difficult tables, especially those that felt the need to be touchy-feely. Ass grabbers were nothing new. Gruby’s was located on the outskirts of campus, so it attracted a combination of college students and local residents. Mainly middle-aged men sporting beer guts and receding hairlines believing they still had enough game to close a piece of college ass. That is, if they ever had any game in the first place. They were usually the best tippers, but the problem was you had to put up with a lot more shit, including “accidental” ass grazes or boob brushes. They were all the same. Most didn’t even try to hide their wedding rings. Of course, the waitstaff at Gruby’s had our own way of keeping them in line, like spilling drinks in their laps, or a plate of food in the crotch if they’d taken too many liberties with their hands. Thankfully it didn’t have to come to that very often. A little flirty banter was usually all it took to keep any guy in check, no matter how old he was.