Forever a Jett Girl (Bourbon #3)

  “Oh, my God!” I shouted as I pushed Jett away. “I can’t believe you said that.”

  Laughing a little too much for my liking, Jett held on to his stomach and tried to speak through the tears forming in his eyes. I’ve never seen him so loose before in my life, and even though it was at my expense, I still loved it. It was moments like this, when he dropped his control and had some fun, that I craved. Don’t get me wrong, I demanded the dominant man who could make me scream his name in seconds, but I also craved this real man, this man with feelings and emotions.

  “You should have seen the look on your face,” Jett said while pointing at me. “Oh, that was fucking priceless.”

  “If I would have known bodily fluids were in play, I would have opened up with Jett just blew up the port-a-potty and gave himself a ten out of ten on the shit scale.”

  “Too slow, gorgeous,” he continued to laugh.

  “Laugh it up, pretty boy. Have fun holding onto a stiff body tonight.”

  “I will enjoy every second of it,” Jett said, while grabbing my hand and bringing it to his lips.

  “Ugh, that wasn’t fair,” I complained.

  “How so?”

  “Because I lost,” I whined, making him laugh again.

  “Well, if you’re a good girl today, maybe I will let you drive the Aston, but I make no promises.”

  “And what qualifies me as a good girl?” I asked with a suspicious tone. The man knew exactly what he was doing.

  Shrugging his shoulders, he led us over to a table where we would be testing the different bowls of gumbo, and said, “I don’t know. Maybe a kiss here and there; if your hand so happens to land on my crotch, then I wouldn’t be opposed to something like that either.”

  “You’re incorrigible, you know that? I’m not about to grab your crotch in public.”

  “Then the port-a-potty? It seemed like you were having some kind of fantasy about it back at Diego’s place.”

  “Eck, don’t be disgusting, that was not a fantasy and no, I won’t be kissing you. Nice try though. Remember, I’m still mad at you.”

  “That’s right,” he smirked, as he pulled out my seat for me and helped me into my chair. “How much longer are you going to be mad at me again?”

  “As long as I want,” I replied like a child, while crossing my arms over my chest, making my cleavage stand out.

  Jett’s lingering gaze on my chest caused a slow throb to grow at the juncture of my damn thighs. Slowly, I watched as he licked his lips and ran his eyes up my chest until he was staring into my eyes. His heated gaze ate me alive and I wasn’t sure if I would make it through the contest without jumping his bones in front of everyone at the festival. If the mayor thought he was uncomfortable with all of the sharting talk, then he was in for a rude awakening, because me riding Jett like a mechanical bull in front of the gathering crowd, tits flopping about, was going to absolutely mortify him.

  “Mr. Colby?” A voice from the side pulled us out of our heated ogling.

  With a lazy smile on his face, Jett retreated from our stand down and greeted the man trying to get our attention.

  My mind didn’t follow anything they were saying, as visions of Jett in the Bourbon Room overtook every last thought in my mind. Me, bent over in the bathroom, staring at myself in the mirror as he ate me out from underneath, me strapped to the beam, hanging upside down, me on the velvet table, being plunged by Jett until I couldn’t take it anymore.

  Oh my fuck was I randy and more than willing to be taken by the Demonic Devil himself, as I’d so properly named him.

  I couldn’t though; I couldn’t fall into the same old pattern. I had to stay strong. I would stay strong.

  At least, that’s what I tried convincing myself.

  “Thank you,” Jett said, as he sat down next to me. “Did you hear any of that?”

  “No,” I said sheepishly.

  “I didn’t think so, I could practically feel your tongue licking the zipper of my pants.”

  “Nuh-uh,” I defended myself…so eloquently.

  “Little One, you act as if I can’t feel your gaze on me, as if I can’t read what’s going on in that pretty little mind of yours.”

  “Oh, really? Well, please enlighten me, what was I thinking?”

  “How you want to be with me, how you want me to take you, but you’re holding out, you’re being strong because you’re not ready to fall back into the world we were living in.”

  Damn it! Exasperating man!

  “You are so wrong,” I shook my head and laughed at him, as I tried to pull off that what he just told me wasn’t spot on. “I was actually thinking about how those shorts were very unflattering on you.”

  He looked down at his shorts and then back up at me. “Lying is not the least bit flattering on you,” he called me out while he pinched my chin. “But, you’re still adorable. Now, are you ready for this?”

  Trying not to get irritated with how confident he was, I nodded and looked around as people started to enter the tent for the judging. The other judges took their seats as well, lining the long table on stage. The mayor sat as far away from us as possible; I didn’t blame the man, he most likely didn’t want to fall victim to my “irritable bowel.”

  Fucking Jett Colby.

  “How does this work? And is it really vegan gumbo?”

  “It is. The festival wanted to try something new and embrace the new food lifestyle.”

  “But what is gumbo without sausage? I don’t understand how that can even be something.”

  “Have an open mind; you never know, you might like it.”

  “Yeah, okay. You’re so buying me real gumbo after this,” I said, while poking his rock hard chest. Stupid Kace and his workouts that made Jett all strong and man like. It’s like they were working together to take down every woman in New Orleans.

  “Anything you want, Little One. Now, there will be five bowls that we will try, and all you have to do is write down your favorites in order. The scores will be tallied at the end, and then they will crown the winner. Simple.”

  “Except for the fact that we’re eating vegan gumbo.”

  “Would you have still come if I told you it was vegan gumbo?” he asked.

  “No,” I lied.

  Shaking his head, he replied, “Lying will get you in trouble, Little One.”

  “Yeah? What are you going to do about it? It’s not like you can take away my orgasms,” I spoke softly, lighting up the heat in Jett’s eyes. Damn it, that look easily started to tear down the walls I put up around my vagina so she wouldn’t get confused.

  Jett was about to answer when the MC for the contest lit up the speakers and started warming up the crowd. The moment between us was lost, as we both turned in our seats to face the crowd. Onlookers gazed at me as I looked down at them from my perch up on the stage. It was interesting to me that so many people cared about a vegan cook off. Maybe there was more to the cuisine than I realized.

  As I scanned the crowd for a familiar face, a warm hand gently found its way to my thigh. Not going too high, Jett gently rubbed my skin with the pad of his thumb, turning me into a pile of mush in my seat.

  “What are you doing?” I asked from the side of my mouth.

  “Touching my girlfriend,” Jett answered without skipping a beat.

  “You keep saying girlfriend, but I don’t remember giving you back that title.”

  “Deny it all you want, Little One, but you’re mine and you know it, so a little title shouldn’t bother you one bit.”

  “Your hand on my thigh is bothering me.”

  “No, it’s not,” Jett whispered in my ear, sending chills down my entire body.

  I turned to him and smiled brightly as I moved my hand to his crotch and grabbed ahold of his package. Two could play at this game.

  Luckily, there was a cloth hanging over the table, so no one could see what we were doing underneath it.

  Ready to see the taken aback expression on his face, I looked
up and was greeted with a shit-eating grin.

  “A little to the left,” he winked at me.

  “Gah, you’re annoying,” I replied, while removing my hand and turning away from him.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I could see his chest rise and fall from the silent chuckling he was doing. Never did I think Jett would have the joking personality of Diego, or the ability to infuriate me like Kace. It was like all the men in my life came together and morphed into one mega man to drive me bat shit crazy and make me horny as hell.

  For the rest of the contest, I ignored the piercing hand of Jett Colby, burning through my skin as I tried all different types of vegan gumbo.

  Honestly, it wasn’t that bad. They had all the classic flavoring of the dish, it was just the textures that were different, which I tried to ignore, because if I thought about it too much, I started to gag. There was one bowl that said it had faux chicken in it that was a brown square in a pile of rice and gravy. That was the hardest bowl for me to swallow because what kind of “chicken” is a perfect little square? Fuck was it nasty, but like a good girl, I swallowed it down and held back the shiver that wanted to overtake my body from the “chicken” burp that followed. Needless to say, “chicken” gumbo didn’t win.

  Once the winner was crowned, a very excited lady wearing a peasant skirt and a tank top with no bra—it was obvious—Jett helped me out of my seat, shook hands with the judges, and then led me out to the festival. Job one, get some real gumbo to help me forget the brown chunk I had to take down.

  “Did you have fun?” he asked, as he guided me flawlessly through the crowd.

  “I did, but can we just discuss that chicken bowl?”

  “I’d rather not. I think I’ll have some indigestion problems from that bowl for a while.”

  “Thank you!” I said relieved, glad I wasn’t the only one who had a problem with it. “I don’t care what you say, you can’t pass tofu off as chicken. There is something just so wrong about that. If you’re going vegan, then own up to it.”

  “Yeah, bad move on that person’s part. Although, it looked like the mayor rather enjoyed that bowl.”

  “The mayor liked every bowl.”

  “True,” Jett laughed. “So, what’s your pleasure? You have your pick of any gumbo dish out there. What can I get you?”

  “Chicken and sausage, I need the classic stuff right now,” I requested.

  “Right this way,” Jett said, as he took me to a small station off to the side where a large black woman stood over a pot of gumbo, stirring it with a giant spoon. Her form reminded me of someone I knew, but I couldn’t quite place her until she turned around.

  Miss Mary, the she-devil herself stood in front of me with her wooden spoon in one hand and a towel in the other. Flashbacks of her ruler smacking my arm rest during “reform school” flashed through my mind and I winced as she moved toward us. The lady still scared the ever living fuck out of me.

  “Why, if it isn’t it Miss Lo and Mr. Colby. How lovely to see you both.” The smile on her face seemed absolutely genuine, but I didn’t trust it for a minute. I knew what she was capable of, so I kept my distance.

  “Miss Mary, so glad we were able to find you in this crowd of people. My girl here is looking for the perfect bowl of gumbo, think you can help us out with that?”

  “Always a charmer,” she winked at Jett as she grabbed two bowls and dished us both a heaping scoop of gumbo. Steam rose off of the bowls as she handed them over to us with spoons.

  Jett reached into his back pocket to pay for our food, but Miss Mary held up her hand and shook him off.

  “Your money is no good here, son. Just enjoy.”

  It wasn’t like Jett couldn’t afford the gumbo, the man was dripping in cash, but he knew when to step down. Miss Mary wasn’t one to mess with.

  Jett held the bowl up to Miss Mary and gave her that devilish grin of his. “Thank you, Miss Mary. I appreciate it.”

  “Anytime,” she winked again and then went back to stirring her pot, leaving us both alone.

  The interaction with Miss Mary almost made her seem human, not like a ruler-wielding, crazy eyed, manner police.

  As we walked to a bench in the back of the park, I asked, “Do you and Miss Mary have a close relationship?”

  “You could say that,” Jett said, as he stared down at his bowl of gumbo.

  “Want to tell me about it?”

  This was a test; if he was serious about making something happen between us, of having a relationship, then it was time for him to open up. It was time to bring some substance to this uncontrollable force that was bringing us together.

  Clearing his throat, Jett leaned back on the bench and said, “Miss Mary was my nanny growing up. She took care of me when my dad was taking care of his businesses; she’s the one who raised me and she was the one who made sure I still saw my mom, despite my father’s demands.”

  Right then and there, I felt like my mind was blown. I didn’t know much about Jett’s mom, except for the fact that she died from AIDS, but I never would have thought Miss Mary raised him. They didn’t seem that close; maybe they kept a more distant relationship.

  “By your silence, I’m assuming that’s not what you were expecting to hear.”

  “It wasn’t,” I admitted. “I just thought she worked with you occasionally. I never thought she could have been your nanny. What was she like back then? Was she mean? Did she threaten you with a ruler too?”

  Chuckling, Jett shook his head as he spooned some of the gumbo in his mouth. Once he swallowed, he said, “She was strict, really strict, but she was kind and caring as well. She made sure I did everything that was demanded by my dad, and then made sure I had fun by letting me hang out with Kace and do things my father wouldn’t normally let me do, like visit my mom.”

  “Why wouldn’t he let you visit her?” I asked, as I put a spoonful of gumbo in my mouth. “Holy shit, this is good,” I stated with a full mouth.

  “I told you it was good.”

  “You would never guess by the way she’s so aggressive with that damn ruler; you would think she practices her intimidation skills day in and day out, but that broad can cook.”

  “That she can.”

  “So, are you going to tell me about your visits to your mom?”

  Jett looked up from his bowl and shook his head no. “Let me save that story for a more intimate setting. Is that okay with you?”

  Sincerity rang through his voice. It was hard not to agree with him when he spoke straight from his heart.

  “Of course,” I agreed, not wanting to make the man open himself up in a public place. “So, tell me, did you get a lot of this kind of cooking growing up?”

  “I did. Miss Mary was all about Southern cooking, but only when my dad was away on business trips. When he was home, we had to eat salads and basic meals that were approved by my dad. I looked forward to him going on business trips, not just because of the good food that came my way, but because I couldn’t stand the man, and when he was gone, it was like I could breathe in my own home.”

  “Was he really that hard on you?” I asked, as I finished up my bowl.

  “He was,” Jett nodded. “I had everything I ever wanted when it came to my dad, except for a childhood. I would spend hours in his office, listening to how he conducted deals. He would show me the ins and outs of his business, educating me constantly into becoming a tycoon. Unfortunately for him, I didn’t turn into the cutthroat man he wanted me to be. Instead, I went in the opposite direction, making him madder than I ever could have expected.”

  “That must have been hard,” I said, as I placed my hand on Jett’s.

  “Not really, it was the best decision I ever made, freeing myself from his pressing grasp. It took me a little bit of time to get settled, to land on my feet, but once I did, I took off and never looked back.”

  “Is that why you’re so…jaded at times?” I asked, wanting to know why he was always so closed off.

  ??
?It’s a combination of things, but my dad is a big factor.” Taking my bowl, Jett stood up and said, “It’s getting late, shall we get back to your place? I would like to talk to Diego before we call it a night.”

  “You’re not going to lecture him, are you?” I asked, while I followed behind Jett just as he tossed our empty bowls in a nearby garbage can.

  “No, on the contrary, I owe the man an apology.”

  “An apology?” I asked, as I stopped in my tracks. “For what?”

  “Nothing that is of your concern,” Jett replied, while he grabbed my hand and tried to walk me toward his car.

  “Oh, no you don’t,” I stopped. “You can’t keep things from me now, Jett. If you want this to happen between us, then you better start opening up.”

  I could tell he was counting to ten in his head. This was new for him, divulging every last thing. He was a man who kept to himself and took care of business. He didn’t need to spread his problems around or cause drama. It just wasn’t the kind of man he was, and I appreciated that about him, but I was tired of being kept in the dark about things, so it was time for him to open the flood gates.

  Finally, he lowered his head to mine and said softly, “The night you left me,” he took a deep breath and continued, “I was hurting; I was a torn man, and instead of keeping to myself, I took it out on Diego and blamed him for your departure. It’s about time I apologize for my wrongdoing.”

  “Oh.”

  I will admit I didn’t handle that night with the most finesse. I could have spoken to Jett differently. I could have explained to him what I had in mind, but honestly, I knew he wouldn’t let me go if I actually told him what I was doing, and at that point, I had to go, I had to do something to change the way we were living our lives, even if in the end, it did nothing but mess up the one good thing in my life.

  “Nothing you need to worry about, Little One,” Jett said, as he grabbed my hand and walked me toward the car.

  “But the reason you were mad was because of me, so I do kind of have to worry about it.”

  “No, you don’t. I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did. Now, let it go, okay?” he said sweetly.

  The sweet tone in his voice was compensating for the dominant demand he was handing out, and damn it if it didn’t turn me on. Would he always be able to do that to me? Control my emotions with his words?