“And to what do I owe the pleasure?” Sarcasm dripped off her tone.
“What?”
“You’re finally calling, even though I’ve been messaging you all day and night. I guess I should feel special that you’re actually making time for me.”
“I’m not obligated to make time for you,” I said, just in case she didn’t know. I ripped the car door open and dropped into the seat. Instantly, a headache throbbed the left side of my temple. “I just saw a black BMW.”
Silence.
“Emma, are you in the city?”
“What the hell are you talking about, Jaxson? Why would I be in New York?”
I pinched the bridge of my nose, already tired of her games. “Just answer the question, Emma,” I demanded, refusing to be put off by her coy response. “If you’re out here following me – ”
“No, Jaxson. I’m not in New York,” she cut me off. “And I’m not following your ass, even though I probably should be.”
“And the black BMW?”
“You sound ridiculous,” she accused me through a huff. “There are hundreds of those cars on the road. It could have been anyone!”
I waited for a second, trying to see if the truth would come out some way, somehow. But Emma was slick. Even if it was her, I would never find out by simply asking.
“You need to calm all the way down,” she suggested as if she’d mastered the art herself. “You’re working yourself up, and for what? Something that’s all in your mind?”
It was a low blow. I knew exactly what she was trying to say, but I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of reacting. I let the silence swallow her. If she was waiting for an answer to her question, she’d be waiting all damn day.
“Where’s my son?” I asked, switching the conversation to the only thing that really mattered. Javi was the link the kept me tied to this woman. Had it not been for him, I’d have fucked her off ages ago.
“He’s with my mother,” she answered, voice full of attitude, as if I had no right asking.
“Your mother? Again?” I groaned. “How long has he been with her this time?”
“Only a few days,” she argued, but I knew the truth. A few days amounted to seven of them or more. Emma was always shoving Javi off on someone. She barely spent any time with him. In fact, the only time she really paid him any attention was if she wanted to get mine.
“Emma, Javi needs your time and attention,” I reminded her. “He’s hardly with you. You’re not supposed to leave him with your mother all the time!” I scoffed. Why did I even bother having this conversation with her neglectful ass? It wouldn’t make a difference. She never listened. Emma was the classic glamour girl, more concerned about preening, primping and her status than apparently even her own child.
I cursed and sucked my teeth. I didn’t need this shit. It was bad enough I’d made a baby with her in the first damn place. It was bad enough that…
I gritted my teeth. “You’ve been calling me, despite my requesting that you don’t. If it’s not about our son, there’s nothing for us to talk about.” I jammed the key into the ignition. “I’ll call your mother and speak to Javi later,” I muttered reversing the car. “In the meantime, quit hounding me, or trust me when I tell you, you’ll be sorry.” Then I hung up on her ass.
At eight o’clock, I knocked on the door of Simmy’s hotel room. For some reason, the edge of my stomach was flipping like it had when I went on my first date. The anticipation of seeing her again, after only hours of being apart, was enough to do me in. I hadn’t spoken to her since leaving the Gucci store, but she’d sent me a one-word text message when she’d received the dress and high heels I’d carefully selected:
Simmy, 3:38 PM: Jaxson!
I grinned, staring at it. I’d made her happy. It was the thing I had been created to do and buying her that dress and those shoes was nothing compared to what I was prepared to do for her. Standing outside of her door, I could only imagine the way she would look when she opened it, but if I never knocked, she never would.
I lifted my fist to alert her to my presence, but before it landed, the door pulled open. Simmy stood there, looking like God’s sexiest creation. The dress fit her to perfection, slinking over her hips and hugging her ass. Her glowing, bronze shoulders greeted my hungry eyes, and when I looked down, the heels on her feet had me wanting to throw her legs over my shoulders and have them pointing towards the ceiling.
Calm down, Jaxson.
She rested her arm on the door post and arched her brow upwards. “How did you know my size?” was her question.
I chuckled, still surveying her body. “It wasn’t hard to guess,” I grunted out. “You’re petite, but you’re curvy and thick in all the right places.” That was what I’d said, but the truth was, I knew her measurements like I knew my social security number.
“You didn’t have to do this, Jax,” she whispered smiling.
“Don’t tell me what to do, Simmy,” I mumbled. I finally unstuck my feet and moved to close the gap between us. My arm encircled her waist and I drew her into a heady kiss. I was becoming accustomed to the taste of her lips. I couldn’t even begin to imagine the euphoria I’d experience when she let me taste something else. Until then…
I parted her lips with my tongue and savored her. Simmy moaned and rubbed her body against mine. Her nipples assaulted the fabric of the dress and me.
“We should go,” I said against her lips. “If we don’t leave now, I promise you we won’t make it to Blue Note.”
When we got to the jazz club, the bouncers pulled back the blue velvet rope, granting me entry. Simone’s hand was secure in mine as we dodged the line of people snaking down the sidewalk and ducked inside. Sensual blue light swallowed us and glinted off the seven crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. Floor-to-ceiling columns fanned and arched above our heads, each glowing with seeping purple and blue light, like psychedelic trees, and the sensual sounds of the house jazz band swirled in the atmosphere.
“This is amazing,” she breathed.
“You like it?”
“I love it!”
Of course, she did.
We ventured to the VIP area, but on our way, I was accosted by the general manager, Bruce, who was my buddy. “Jaxson! Man, I ain’t seen you in years!” He exclaimed, pulling me into a strong man-hug. He released me and gripped my shoulders. “You look great man!”
“I always look great,” I reminded him. We laughed, but Simmy rolled her eyes playfully.
My buddy cast his gaze in her direction. “And who the hell is this?” he demanded taking her hand and pressing his lips on the back.
I prickled a little and pressed a smile onto my face.
“Don’t tell me,” he said before I even could. “This that girl, huh? The one you couldn’t stop talking about?”
Simmy frowned and I cleared my throat. “This is Simone Storm,” I said quickly. “She’s a romance author. She’s also my date for the night.” I glared at Bruce, hoping the look on my face would shut him the hell up.