Chapter 160: Chapter Twenty-Two

Jaymeson

I drove back from the airport faster than the speed limit allowed, but I was bored as hell and horny as a teenager.

Maybe.

I slammed on the brakes as a deer ran out in the middle of the road. After honking my horn a few times, it skittered away. I sped off and cursed into the cool night air.

The temperature was oddly warm, especially for Oregon. I could almost believe it was California, you know, if you took away the crisp bite that was still present in the air.

My gut clenched at the thought.

I ignored my gut, just like I ignored my heart and everything else in my damn life. I didn't do relationships. It was like a sick four-letter word to me.

I shuddered as I pulled into the parking lot and half-jogged toward the hotel. I pulled open the door to the lobby and ran right into another person.

“Apologies,” I muttered, then paused.

Priscilla's giant brown eyes stared back at me, turning into a raging storm of irritation before she rolled them and pushed against my chest. “Just watch where you're going next time.”

“I said I was sorry,” I snapped.

“You're right.” She crossed her arms. “Apology accepted.”

I grinned.

“Have fun with whoring around tonight.”

“Wait.” I grabbed her arm. “Kind of harsh, don't you think?”

She peered around me and smirked. “Kind of honest.”

I turned to see where she was looking and saw not one, not two, not even three, but around ten girls all in short skirts and skanky heels sipping wine at the hotel bar and throwing me sexy glances.

With a grin I waved.

All ten waved back.

Priscilla groaned and moved past me.

I reached out and grabbed her arm again, totally not on purpose. It was more of a reflex, or something.

“What?” She jerked back. “You need help with the harem?”

“No.” The excitement of what was going on behind me died when I looked into Priscilla's eyes, or maybe it was just cheapened. “Question.”

“If I answer, will you go away?”

“Maybe.”

“Fine.”

“Do you like wine?”

“I'm underage, Jaymeson. Eighteen, remember?”

Hell yeah, I remembered. It was why Alec and Demetri basically threatened me within an inch of my life yesterday when they saw me stare at her for longer than three seconds.

“Please,” I snorted. “You're eighteen, not a saint. Do. You. Like. Wine? It's a simple question.”

Priscilla shifted uncomfortably, alternating between standing on one foot and then the other.

“Yes.”

“Good.” I smiled, feeling happier in that moment than I'd felt in days. “Stay here and I'll be right back.”

Priscilla didn't say anything.

I sighed. “Please?”

“Fine.” She huffed, looking down at her shifty feet.

I ran over to the bar, handed the bartender a fifty, grabbed two paper cups and a corkscrew, and was back all within three minutes. Giant grin in place, ready to have a good time.

“Let's go.” I pushed open the door and let her pass.

“Where we going?”

“To the beach.” I laughed. “Where else?”

“Hmm.” She fell into step beside me, but nearly fell over. Maybe I'd only pour her half a glass. Those shoes were like her Everest. “If you're trying to seduce me it won't work.”

“First…” I handed her the wine and cups then made her stop so I could kneel down and grab her heels. “I wouldn't have to try — it would happen. I'm like magic.”

“Magic?” She laughed.

“Lift.”

“Huh?”

“Your foot.” I pointed. “I'm not down here for the hell of it. The way I see it is if I keep letting you walk around like that you're going to get a sprained ankle.

Priscilla raised her right foot, then her left. I slipped off the Vince Camuto heels, my damn hands shaking like I was Prince Charming or some other shitty fairy tale character.

“I can carry them,” Priscilla said.

“Nah, you carry the wine. I'll carry the shoes. Makes me look like more of a gentleman that way.”

“Ah, so it is part of your seduction technique.”

“Carrying shoes?” I laughed. “Nope. Remember, I'm magic? Clothes basically melt off in my presence.”

“Right along with the skanks' makeup, huh?”

“Hilarious.”

I laughed even though it kinda sucked that she was partially right.

I usually didn't even know what the chick looked like until later on when the makeup was wiped off from all the kissing and foreplay, and usually by then I was done with her. Damn.

“Over there.” I pointed to a spot closer to the ocean.

We both sat down. I dropped her shoes and pulled the corkscrew from my pocket. “So Priscilla…” I let her name dance around in my head a bit before I continued.

“Trapped and coerced.” Her eyes narrowed. “And I was going home. Curfew.”

“Naughty girl. Are you breaking your curfew to be out with me then?”

“Nope.” Her smile made me feel funny. I looked away. “I've never been late. My parents won't care. They trust me, and if they're worried, they'll text.”

“Trusting.”

“I've never given them a reason not to be.”

“Do you want to?” I smirked.

“Want to?”

“Give them a reason not to trust you? Because if you do, I'm all for it.”

“No thanks.”

I couldn't be sure, but it looked like she was blushing. She cleared her throat and grabbed the cups while I popped the cork.

I poured the red liquid into both paper cups and stuffed the wine bottle snugly into the sand.

“A toast?” I lifted my cup to hers.

“Oh yeah?” Her cup touched mine. “To what?”

“Being eighteen and breaking the law?”

With a laugh she threw her head back, exposing her neck to the moonlight and making my gut clench again. Her wavy black hair fell across her chest and suddenly I forgot to breathe.

I also forgot she was eighteen for five whole seconds. Mentally hitting myself, I cleared my throat and looked away. It was going to be one hell of a night if I couldn't get any relief soon.

“To breaking the law,” came her soft whisper. I chanced looking at her and nearly choked as I brought the cup to my lips. Why did she have to be so pretty? Because that's exactly what she was.

She was pure beauty.

And it radiated from her like a perfume. I leaned in, the ocean cracking in the silence.

She licked her lips and met me halfway.

Holy shit, the guys were going to murder me. But I wanted her. One taste. That was it. Just one and then my curiosity would be satisfied.

I set my wine cup in the sand next to me and cupped her face before she had a chance to say no. Her breathing picked up — the anticipation was killing me inside. What would it be like?

And that's when I realized.

I'd never kissed a girl before.

They'd always kissed me. They assaulted me, they attacked me. I never made the effort because I never had to.

Suddenly nervous as hell, I shuddered as her breath blew across my lips in such a sweet exhale that I was lost.

My mouth touched hers.

Her lower lip trembled. I took it between my teeth, gently sucking, and then coaxing.

Her mouth was closed, but her lips tasted like candy. Something inside my body shifted or maybe it snapped.

The ring of a cell phone interrupted our moment.

Priscilla jerked back and answered with a shaky, “Hello?”

I cursed myself and took a quick sip of wine. What the hell was I doing? What the hell was I thinking! Damn it! She was eight-freaking-teen!

“Sure, Dad! Okay, um, I'll be right there.”

I heard her end the conversation and waited for her to slap me, or yell, or tell me I was a whore.

Instead, I felt a hand touch mine.

Shit.

I looked up, her eyes were shining with excitement and maybe just a bit of wonder. And they were looking at me, as if I'd hung the bloody moon and told her I named it after her.

I knew where the story would end. My lack of self-control would end up with her losing her virginity and me breaking her heart into a million pieces, she'd want a relationship, and I'd want out.

“So—” She laughed nervously.

“You should go,” I said sternly. “Don't want Daddy getting worried.”

She flinched.

I wanted to drown myself in the ocean.

“But—”

“—look, you were right.” I smirked. “I guess my magic just doesn't work on you. I'd planned on having you stripped and screwed by now. Instead, all clothes still intact. Count yourself lucky.”

Her eyes suddenly became glassy as if tears were trying to pour forth, but she was holding them back. I tried to reach for her, but my body was at odds with my mind.

“You're a bastard.”

“Don't I know it.” I smiled tightly and lifted my wine cup. “Cheers.”

With a jolt, she jumped to her feet and grabbed her heels. “Rot in hell, Jaymeson.”

“Already am,” I said under my breath. “Already am.”