The Lineup(57)

Chapter Sixteen





JASON





Jason: I’ve jacked off twice since I arrived at the cabin last night.

Knox: Dude, self-control.

Jason: I have zero. You have no idea what this woman is doing to me. She wore a camisole last night with no fucking bra. What am I supposed to do with that? Oh, and then she goes and tells me her nipples are really sensitive. I’m trying to be cool here, but I can feel myself unraveling.

Knox: What’s holding you back from making a move? You’re in a cabin together, a romantic setting, so this should be a dream come true to you.

Jason: Your last conversation with me about her scared me away. At least, made me move into ultra-slow mode, which was ramped up to hyper speed last night. Fuck, dude, I heard her laugh, and it was, hell, it was perfect.

Knox: Whoa, you really like her?

Jason: Yeah, I think so. The more time I spend with her, the more I realize I like her surly attitude and the way she rolls her eyes at me. Oh, and get this, met her dad last night and we hit it off.

Knox: Then go for it. Just be gentle, and don’t attack her full-on with your neediness.

Jason: Fuck you. I’m not needy.

Knox: Sure, okay, man. You’re not needy.

Jason: There was sarcasm in that statement.

Knox: Yup. Now stop talking to me and go make her breakfast. That’s a good way to start.

Jason: Shit, you’re right. So I’m doing this? I’m going to make a move this weekend?

Knox: If you don’t, I’m going to punch you in the balls when I get home just to make sure you still have them.

Jason: Believe me, I do. They’ve excreted a lot of my sperm in the last twelve hours.

Knox: Jesus fuck.

I laugh to myself and set my phone back on the nightstand. I stretch from side to side, warming up my spine and then hop out of bed. I take a quick piss, brush my teeth, because I’d rather eat minty pancakes than have morning breath, slip on my flannel pants but leave it at that. If I’m going to make a move, I have to entice her somehow, and I don’t just work out to be good at baseball. I want to look good for the girl I plan on dating as well.

Before I step out of my room, I check myself in the mirror near the door and toss my hand through my hair a few times, trying to even out the messiness, but when it goes back in place, I figure, nothing like some good rumpled hair. Girls like that shit.

When I leave my room, I’m greeted by the smell of coffee. She’s awake.

But when I reach the kitchen and don’t see her, I wonder if I’m wrong, until I see her head peeking past a chair on the deck. There’s a misty fog settling through the trees, casting a dream-like view out the windows.

I pour myself a cup of coffee, add some sugar, because Daddy needs a little sweet in his coffee, and then open the door to the deck. The fresh morning air is a shock to my lungs as well as the chilly temperature.

No worries about boners here. Well, the only hard things are my freezing nipples.

“Good morning,” I say, taking the seat next to hers, but instead of facing the trees, I face her.

She’s wrapped up in a blanket, her silky hair piled into a bun on top of her head, and she’s wearing round, thick-rimmed black glasses.

So fucking adorable. It takes everything in me not to cuddle her ass.

“Hey, good morning.” She lightly smiles at me, her eyes roaming my chest for a brief second. Look all you want, sweet cheeks. “How did you sleep?”

After I jacked off to you in my head? Amazingly.

“Good. That mattress is comfortable. I don’t think I could ever go back to my own.”

“My dad is all about maximum comfort when sleeping. It’s why I’m so well rested after staying a few nights here.”

“Yeah, sleep like an angel?” I sip my coffee.

“You could say that.” She looks out at the trees and the calm water. “One of my favorite things to do in the morning is watch the fog lift off the lake; it’s breathtaking.”

I can name a few other things that are breathtaking . . . like her eyes and the way they shine when she wants to smile but holds back, or her laugh, how it’s throaty and only earned, or the way she carries herself in a suit, with confidence and power.

Jesus Christ, I’m a fucking goner.

“Are you hungry?” I ask.

“Are you going to make me cook?”

I chuckle. “Nah, not breakfast. But dinner, you’re mine, got it?”

Her eyes flash an emotion I can’t quite decipher, and she doesn’t give me enough time to work it out before she says, “Fine, dinner it is. What’s for breakfast?”

“Pancakes? I saw the ingredients in the cupboards last night. Does that work for you?”

“With raspberries?” She bats her eyelashes.

I point my finger at her. “Only if you say please.”

“Please, Jason?”

Oh fuck, that sounded good. Why did she have to add my name at the end? Now all I can hear is her saying that while I’m playing with her clit, massaging it to the point of her release but then pulling back before she falls over.

“Yup, sure.” I stand abruptly. “Pancakes with raspberries it is.”

“Thank you, I’ll be right in to keep you company.”