Page 10 of Forgotten

“Funny, I go by Jesse James,” he said. “And you go by April. It’s almost like we’re different people. Almost.”

He looked me up and down in an appraising way and swaggered off to the elevators. Meanwhile, I gripped the sides of the computer like I was going to hit the deck.

Jessica came back a few moments later, just missing Jesse, and I clocked out. Swinging by the kitchen, I asked the chef if he had any pre-made sandwiches that he was going to put out in the tiny store tomorrow morning, and he pointed me to the fridge. I grabbed a couple of them, marked them down on the sheet so they could be charged to me, and went to the bar.

Grabbing the bottle from under the register that I allowed to be kept for staff to do shots after work, I took a picture of the label so I could replace it in the morning. Then I headed to the elevator, my nerves jangling as it rose to the top floor.

I had a skeleton key on my keychain, and as I walked up to his door, I took a deep breath. I knocked, gripping the key card tightly.

“Come on in,” his voice said in the distance, punctuated by the sound of a palm resting over guitar strings to silence them.

I pressed the key card to the door and turned the knob. When it opened, I saw Jesse on a chair in the living area of the massive suite. He was shirtless, the guitar resting on his knee, and his cowboy boots just off to the side of his chair.

My fingers were already unbuttoning my shirt before I took my first step.

Chapter Five

Jesse

I nearly threw the guitar across the room. Thank God there was a couch there.

She was heading toward me with a stride that said she had absolutely only one thing on her mind, and it sure as hell wasn’t the sandwiches she had put on the table beside the door. Or the bottle of whiskey, though that might be fun to add into things later.

It was as if thousands of dreams I’d had for the last eight years, fantasies I’d tried to work out with the raven-haired cutie who showed up to one of my shows, had suddenly come true. The only girl that ever really mattered to me, the only girl who I would have given up my seemingly free pass to the inside of any girl’s panties I wanted, was heading toward me with her fingers tearing at her black blouse.

I wasn’t wearing a shirt on purpose. I’d wanted to subtly seduce her, and in my experience, my ab muscles did a lot of that work for me. But she had barely seen me before she started heading over like a locomotive doing a striptease. It was as if all she needed was a feather touch to get to where I wanted her, and my shirtless guitar strumming was more akin to a wrecking ball to the back.

Diving into my outstretched arms, she continued to yank her shirt down off her shoulders as our lips pressed into each other. I relished the taste of her, which I thought I’d forgotten so long ago, but never really had. I woke up with the taste of her lipson mine many mornings, and now I knew I hadn’t imagined the flavor.

Her shirt hit the floor at the same time that her hands found my belt buckle and yanked. I kissed her neck as she hungrily unzipped me and hooked my jeans with her thumbs to yank them down. My boxer-briefs went with them, and suddenly a cool breeze brushed across my stiffened cock just before her warm hand wrapped around it.

I pulled down on the strap of her bra as my lips made their way down her collarbone. Yanking it down, I exposed one of her breasts as she began to stroke me and I took her nipple hungrily into my mouth. She gasped and giggled at the same time and I made my way back to her lips. My tongue slid inside her mouth for a moment as I reached down and lifted her. She wrapped her legs around my waist as I carried her, kicking my pants off my feet, into the bedroom.

Tossing her playfully on the bed, I laughed with her, feeling the joy overwhelming me. She scooted back until her head was on the pillows and began to struggle with her own jeans. I grabbed the pant legs and pulled, helping her get them off and revealing white cotton panties underneath. She paused, her eyes sparkling as I settled between her knees and reached for her stomach.

Tracing my fingers down her skin, I took the panties in my grip and pulled them down slowly, revealing her soft mound of curly black hair. With the panties off her, I flung them aside to a giggle and crawled up to press my lips to hers again. There was no need for foreplay. Neither of us was interested in that right now.

I settled between her thighs and arched my stomach in so I could aim my cock for her soft, wet core. The head brushed through the folds, and I felt her gasp under me. Our eyes lockedtogether, and I slowly thrust into her, only able to go inside a little as she cried out in a mixture of pain and pleasure, a sound I’d heard often but never as satisfying as this one.

Achingly slowly, her body began to relax, and I was able to drive deeper inside. Gripping my chest, her fingers digging into my skin, she rocked with me with each thrust. Soon, we were moving in concert, her voice yelping with each movement as she drew closer and closer to climax.

Enthusiasm took over, and we rolled and jockeyed for position. Her on top, me on top, from behind, from above, it was as if we were teenagers trying out every position we could think of. Every so often, she would clench and her thighs would shake as she rolled through another orgasm.

Sweat rolled down my back as I gripped her in my arms, pressing her against the wall behind the bed as I thrust up from my knees. I smothered myself between her breasts as she held me tightly to her chest. I felt the finish coming and pulled her away, tossing her down on the bed below me as I slammed into her. She laughed and then moaned at the sudden change of pace, and our eyes locked again.

“Come for me,” she said. “Come for me, Jesse!”

A roar built up in my chest and exploded from me as I slammed into her with abandon. My eyes clenched shut and her voice lifted to match mine as I pulled her thighs tight and emptied into her in one glorious, incredible climax. My body shook as I felt myself completely spent, mind and body, falling into her arms.

She stroked my hair as I breathed heavily onto her chest. When I forced myself up, I grabbed her hand and pulled her with me so we lay with our heads on the pillows. She settled her head into the nook of my shoulder and within moments was fast asleep. It only took me a few more seconds, just enough time toknow she was truly asleep and see the smile on her face before I kissed the top of her forehead and closed my own eyes, drifting off immediately.

The sunshine coming from the open window woke me up, and I rolled over to put my back to it and wrap my arm around Charlotte. The only problem being she wasn’t there.

Groggily, I opened one eye—the sun was still too bright for both—and searched the bed. Had I dreamed she had been there again? Was it another one of my vivid dreams about her, where I woke up with her taste on my lips?

My eyes settled on something pink on the sheet, and I reached for it, lifting it up to view it. It was a pink hair tie. Exactly the same one she had been wearing when I’d brought her to bed, the same one she’d dramatically removed as she settled on top of me and rode me for the first time, shaking her hair out like an X-rated shampoo commercial. She must have dropped it during the chaotic, Olympic-level lovemaking that happened afterward.

I smiled. That was one for the books, all right. Perhaps THE one for the books.

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