Thirteen
Gineva
I can’t believe he’s back. That we’re back. Gin and Juice. I always thought if we ever saw each other again, it would be a meeting of Gineva Derosa and Jarrett Dean. Our generic selves. But this is nothing like what my mind had envisioned. The movie I created in my head behind the walls I built up and the stories I fabricated about a boy who I loved… took my virginity like I so kindly asked… then left me in the dust of his fast cars and faster lifestyle. That’s the story I’ve told myself for the last nine years.
I never dreamed that the real story was one where I broke his heart after all but accusing him of screwing everything that walked the second he left my bed, and asking him to keep secret the beautiful thing that had grown between us. Convincing him that it was nothing more than sex. Now, all this time later, I’m sitting across from the same boy, now a man, who I loved deeper than life, only to find that he’s still my Juice. I hate myself for the time we’ve lost. Even if we weren’t together, we could have still been us. Instead, I was watching him rise through the ranks to become the newest hotshot in the NHRA funny car division while I had made up my mind that he was a total player and nothing we’d shared in the past was real.
It kills me to know that I could have been sharing that joy with him.
I chance a touchy subject—at least it used to be. “How are things with your mom?”
He lets out a long sigh from where he lays beside me on the blanket. The stars are peeking out of the clear Georgia sky, and I regret bringing down the great conversation we’ve been having.
“She’s the same. Calls when it’s good for her, or if she wants tickets for a race so she can impress her current boyfriend. Though the ones who really have a thing for racing, or get star struck by me or Dad… well, those guys seem to be replaced by the next time I see her.”
I’ll never understand his mom or how she could take her relationship with her son for granted. I get that she and Marcus couldn’t work things out, but to abandon her boy is just horrific, and it’s definitely left a mark on him. “I’m really sorry, Juice. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
He turns onto his side and levels me with his bright blue gaze. “I’m glad you did. It gives me a chance to tell you some things I’ve been scared to say.” He takes my hand and places his lips on the back of it. “I’ve not only been thinking about this on and off since the last night we spent together, but it’s about the only thing I’ve been able to think about since seeing you again. As much as it scares the shit out of me to lay it all out on the table, it bothers me even more to wonder what will happen if I never tell you. I’m so fucking done with regrets where we’re concerned.” He rolls my hand over and places another kiss on my wrist.
Fear and excitement have me hanging on his every word, hoping that for once we can get on the same page and not be afraid to show our fears. I suppose if I want that from him, I need to be willing to do it myself. “Tell me yours and I’ll tell you mine.”
A sad smile crosses his lips. “Before I start, I want you to know that I’m talking to my friend, not the girl I’m hoping to woo into my bed at some point in the future.” The sadness turns momentarily cocky, and I press my thighs together. “Because I’m going to sound like a pussy for the next five minutes, and I don’t want my sexy spitfire running for the hills.”
My pulse throbs in my core, while my heart hurts at the vulnerability in his voice. “I’ve got my friend hat on, I promise.” I rub his blond beard, which I seem to have grown very attached too.
“One of the reasons I left that night, let you push me away and never looked back?” His bright eyes glisten with sincerity and take my breath away. “The only thing that kept running through my mind after you asked me to keep us a secret, told me it was just sex, was that you were just as ashamed of me as my mother.”
I gasp at what my actions did to his self-esteem, but before I can set him straight and apologize, he continues to speak.
“After I came back from the bathroom, I was planning to, ah…” He fights to get the words out, and I see the second his determination sets in. “I wanted to tell you that I loved you, that we had to find a way to work out a long-distance relationship. That no matter where life took us, we had to try to be together.”
Tears hit my lashes faster than I can wipe them away. “And then I forced you out the door and said all those hurtful things. Only thought of myself and never considered what I was doing to you.”
“Yeah.” He tucks his chin. “All I could think about when I left your house was how could you possibly ever love me if even my own mother couldn’t.” He scrubs his hands down his face in an attempt to wipe away the sadness. “Shit… enough of the whiny bitch boy. I have to go get in a bar fight now so I can earn back my street cred.”
“Jarret,” I whisper, unable to laugh at his attempt to lighten the mood. This subject is too serious to brush off. “I’ll never forgive myself for hurting you like that.” I push him to his back and climb on top of him so he can’t avoid what I’m about to say. I grab his face and tilt his head so that he can look nowhere except at me. “I was so in love with you that it hurt. I had the courage to ask you to be with me, but not the courage to tell you how I felt. You were at the track every weekend, and after the phone call—”
“I was never with anyone that entire year. Yes, I kissed that girl and she left her marks on me, but all I could think about was you, so I put a stop to it. There was never anyone other than you.”
“Why didn’t you ever tell me? I always thought that you didn’t want anything more than friendship. You never showed an interest in me that way.”
He squeezes his eyes shut. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
“I was a coward and didn’t want to lose you, so instead…” I let the sorrow of our miscommunication and what it robbed from us wash over me with regret. “I pushed you away.”
“And I let you.” He pulls me down across his body and hugs my entire length with his arms, his legs, every inch of him wrapped around me. “I’m not letting you go this time. Not without a huge fucking fight. So you better be ready, because nothing is standing in the way of us again.”
“Show me right now. Show me how you feel about me.” I try to pull back from his embrace and find his lips, but his vise-like grip on me won’t allow it.
“Not here. I’m taking you someplace I can spread your perfect body out and feast on you until the sun comes up.”
“What are you waiting for?”
When Jarrett finally fires up the Harley, I fight back the groan that wants to escape. My core is already pulsing at the idea of being with him again, and the motor acts as a vibrator to my clit. I squeeze his waist so tight he must know what’s happening.
“I’ll drive fast, baby. Try to save that one for me.”
The Bluetooth in my helmet startles me out of my lust fog for a second, but his words don’t help at all. He messes with his phone for a second, turns off the headset, and then across his main speaker system of the Harley comes Snoop Dogg’s “Gin and Juice,” blaring even louder than his engine. I can’t help but throw my head back and laugh. We used to terrorize the neighborhood in the beater he drove, always blaring our anthem.
“Hold on, baby, we’re gonna fly.”
The bike takes off at an alarming rate, and if anyone else was driving me on the back of a motorcycle this fast, I would be raising holy hell. But not with Juice. He was created to drive faster than life. He takes the curve of the roads with ease, and with every vibration that continues to hit my core, I pray he drives even a little faster. I lay my head against his back and fight the growing urge to come. The pulse, the heat, the feel of him in my arms, all have my stomach clenching and I can’t stop the moan that escapes. I grind my hips down and try to push back the feeling, but it only intensifies. Oh God, I’m not going to be able to stop the rush that’s fighting to take over.
Blue and red flashing lights pull me from my impending orgasm and scare the shit out of me. The music cuts over the bike’s speaker, and Jarrett pulls off to the side of the road.
“Fuck.” He cuts the engine.
I have no idea how to handle this situation on a motorcycle. I know we’ll be busted for speeding—that offense is obvious. “Should I get off?”
Laughter booms in my earpiece. “I told you to wait, baby.”
I smack the smug bastard’s arm and laugh too.
“Off the bike, face first on the ground. Now,” the officer commands over his loudspeaker.
My entire body tenses at the seriousness of the situation. This cop must think we’re bad people or something. Maybe involved in a motorcycle gang. I go to swing my leg off, but Jarrett clamps his hand down on my thigh.
“Motherfucker is going to pay for this.”
“What? Why are we not getting off? We’re going to get shot.”
“You think you can speed in my town and blast your old school rap, asshole? I said face on the ground. Now.”
What is happening? This is the weirdest vehicular stop in the history of time. “Jarrett, we need to get off the bike.”
“Just stay put, baby. This dickhead is going to pay.”
Now I’m scared. Jarrett must have a death wish that I’m not aware of. I scurry off the bike, faster than he can stop me, and drop face first to the ground. Maybe he’ll show mercy on us since at least one of us is cooperating. My helmet thuds a little when it hits the dirt, and it sends a tingle down my spine.
“Are you fucking kidding me right now, you cock blocking son of a bitch?” Jarrett yells.
I’m so scared! Why won’t he just shut the fuck up?
“Oh shit, honey.” The cop sounds completely different now, but it could be from my shaking eardrums. “I’m sorry, I was just screwing with Miss Daisy.”
What is fucking happening?
“You better apologize to my girl, Officer Douchebag.”
“I’m sorry,” he offers again. “You can get off the ground. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Embarrassment and confusion take over my body as I get up and brush myself off, but I refuse to take off the helmet. Jarrett goes to take it, but I pull away a little, not ready to expose my burning face.
“It’s okay, baby. I want you to meet my jackass friend, Officer Liam Beckett. I’d also like you to get a good look at him before I give him two black eyes for scaring you.” He pulls my helmet off then kisses my cheek.
Officer Beckett has the decency to look a little ashamed, though it’s a tough look for the dark-haired, dark-eyed man to pull off. “I’m really sorry, ma’am. I didn’t mean to scare you. I was just messing with my boy here.” He turns to Jarrett. “Though I could ticket you for speeding and disturbing the peace.” His cockiness returns, and it definitely suits him better.
Jarrett shakes his head. “This is my girl, Gin.” He wraps his arm around my shoulder and tucks me into his body. The two men tower over me. “Gin, this guy belongs to the group of hoodlums you met earlier.”
I look him up and down, noticing he’s built like the rest of the giant men I now associate with Corps Security. “Nice to meet you, Officer.”
“Call me Lee. And sorry again for the scare. I didn’t mean for you to actually get on the ground,” he says with a sheepish grin. He studies our body language, then seems to understand what he just did. “Well anyway… drive safe and all that shit.” He raises an eyebrow to Jarrett and winks. “I wouldn’t want to have to pull you over again. Slow up your night.”
“Right…” Jarrett laughs and shakes his head. “I’ll see you at the track, man.”
As Lee walks away, my pulse finally starts to return to normal. “You have the craziest friends.”
“I know. Aren’t they great?” He beams with pride and I can tell that he’s going to miss this place when he leaves.
***
I sit on the chaise lounge in the hotel room, right where Juice set me, and watch as he yanks all the covers off the hotel bed and tosses them in a heap on the floor. The lamp casts the most amazing glow on his tanned skin, and even though he’s a blond, he’s been blessed with the ability to take on the sun.
“Take off your shirt,” I demand and watch as his blue eyes flare with heat.
He slowly unbuttons his shirt without complaint and blesses me with his beautifully sculpted chest. He’s long and lithe, and the trail of blond hair that disappears into his jeans makes me wish he would just take them off already.
He stays on the other side of the room, his chest heaving, neck pulsing, and makes a demand of his own. “Your turn. Shirt and pants off, then back on the bench.” The blue fire in his eyes is so hot with need that I obey immediately. “Good girl.”
I eye his jeans and nod, the unspoken words and anticipation making my body respond with a fierce desire to connect with his. I fight the urge to touch myself to ease some of the pressure caused by watching him drop his jeans and stand before me in nothing but his straining black boxer briefs.
“You’re a goddamn goddess sitting on that chair.”
I go to stand, needing to touch him.
“Sit. Don’t move,” he demands. “Before I touch you, before I cross this room, you need to answer a couple questions.”
I cross my legs to fight the pain.
“I know for a fact that I’m clean.” He grabs himself through his boxers and grips hard. “Can I take you raw, baby? I’m dying to feel you with nothing between us.”
“Yes,” I moan. “I’m clean, on the pill.”
He squeezes his cock so tight I’m afraid he’s going to hurt himself. “Are you all in? Because as far as I’m concerned, once I mark that tiny body of yours, it’s fucking mine and mine alone.”
I can’t fight the whimper that escapes, and at risk of what I might say, I just nod in understanding.
“Is that a yes? Do you understand that you are one hundred percent fucking mine after tonight? That this doesn’t end in the morning? Or tomorrow? Or next month?”
“Yes.”
“Take it all off.” He looks at my black bra and thong. “Straddle the chair.”
This is not the teenage boy I lovingly lost my virginity too. This is a man who looks as if he can barely keep from eating me alive. He never releases the fist wrapped around himself over his boxers as he watches me strip out of my bra and panties then place myself back on the long bench and straddle the sides. I’m too turned on to feel self-conscious about the way my nipples strain or my core soaks the chaise. I put my hands behind me on the bench to help resist the urge to touch myself. Waiting on him will be so much sweeter.
He finally comes to me and straddles the bench so that our knees are touching, then he pulls my legs on top of his. He stares at my center and licks his lips.
“Juice,” I beg.
“We’re doing this at my speed.” His tongue darts across his lips again before he rubs his thumbs up and down my opening. They glide easily against my wet skin.
“Fuck.” I’m trying to stay calm, but he’s torturing me right now. I don’t know where he finds the restraint to go so slow, but this is becoming unbearable.
Thankfully, his resistance finally breaks and he urges me onto my back, then he pulls my ass into the air so fast that my legs wrap around his head to have something to ground me. As soon as he latches onto my clit, I feel the orgasm I’ve been fighting tingle to life. He laps and sucks while his beard scratches all the right places.
“Fuck, I can’t hold back.”
He sucks even harder and my orgasm rockets through me at an alarming speed. I shamelessly scream and arch onto my shoulders at the sensation. Incoherent words continue to fall when he moves his tongue to my center and dives in, pushing my orgasm on and on. Before I can catch my breath, my ass is back on the bench and he has pulled his boxers down just enough to free his painfully engorged cock. He all but picks me up and slams into me as my arms and legs wrap around his sitting form.
His groan vibrates against my chest, and he pounds into me while I hang on for dear life. His long, hard body is all sinewy muscle and tone, and his hips piston as though he was trained in the sport. With every wordless upsweep, my clit rubs at his base, and in no time at all, I’m about to fall apart again.
“Juice…” I grip his hair in desperation.
“Come all over my cock, baby. Fuck, I can’t slow down. You feel so good, Gin.”
My name on his lips is all it takes, and as I feel him pulse deep inside me, I lose myself to the rush. The tides sweeping through my body pull me under. The pulse of blood hits every nerve ending I have and settles in my soul.
My heart, filled to the brim.
I don’t dare let go of this man as our breathing slows and our sweat-covered bodies rise and fall together. Still connected as one. We stay like that, him inside me, and stare at one another in understanding.
For the first time, we’re both laid out bare to the other with nothing to hide. No secrets being kept, no fear of rejection. We find one another in the glow of the hotel room and lock into our forever. And just as we did all those years ago, when we would say the same thing at the same time, anticipating the other's words…
“I love you.”
“I love you.”
I don’t know who says it first, and I honestly don’t care. It was a simultaneous combustion of the soul. And as he said earlier, everything may feel as though it’s moving in fast forward, but one thing has obviously not changed over the last nine years.
I love him, and he loves me. We’ll figure the rest of this shit out as we go.