Feels Like Falling, page 7
“Yes, Esmeralda.”
”Are you going out?” She looked nervous. I could tell she regretted asking me the question.
“No,” I lied right to her face. Obviously, I was going out, but maybe if I didn’t confirm it for her, she wouldn’t say anything. At least, I prayed she wouldn’t.
“Oh, okay,” she nodded. “Well, good night. Sleep well,” she said and hurried towards the back of the house again towards her room.
Well, that was interesting.
I waited for a few minutes to make sure she’d gone, then I hurried out of the front door. I quickly ran to my car and started the ignition. I was so thankful that I didn’t have a loud, noisy car. It had a smooth quiet engine. And as I drove out of the driveway, I checked my rearview mirror to make sure none of the lights at the front of the house had come on. I had made it. I breathed a sigh of relief.
I felt like a criminal in some ways, but it was kind of ridiculous. I was 30 years old. I should not have to sneak out of my own house. I knew that the situation was the craziest. But my dad had something over me. I didn’t think for a minute that my dad was joking when he said he would turn me in to the police for what had happened to Joey if I didn’t go along with his plan. Why wouldn’t he? I mean, it wouldn’t hurt his career if he was the one that turned me in. If he turned me in, he could change the narrative. He could say he was doing it for my good, and the good of society. That’s how these things work. He would pretend he was putting the welfare of the community above his family. He would look like the sort of guy who cared enough about his kid to acknowledge the fact that she was a screwup and was doing something about it. Don’t think he couldn’t twist it in whichever way he wanted.
So I had to play by the rules. I had to be the dutiful daughter and live at home and accept this fake arranged marriage. I didn’t want it, but I didn’t want to be in jail either. I couldn’t imagine being in jail. I was pretty sure I would go away for a pretty long time. When you have someone beaten up and they end up looking how Joey looked … well, you have to pay a big price for that.
I turned on the radio and sang along to the Top 40 Channel as I made my way to the bar, trying to get into the right mood. I needed to be light and flirty and happy if I was going to pull this off.
Most of all, I needed to have all my wits about me.
I couldn’t have Patrick knowing I was in distress, not after what happened with Joey. I don’t think I told you before, but the guy at the bar, his name is Patrick, and yes, he’s a descendant of a large Irish clan with red hair to match. He’s pretty good looking for a ginger, I’ll admit. He has bright blue eyes and a laughing face. And if you didn’t know him well, you’d think he was a light-hearted kind of guy, very fun, very funny, and always drunk—seemingly. But I’ve been going to that bar for a long time. And there’s more to Patrick than meets the eye. I knew that even before he set up the situation with Joey.
You see, he has an insecurity about him that carries through in the way that he talks and the way that he argues and the way that he carries himself. There’s also a darkness there. There have been many times that I’ve seen him with bruised knuckles or a busted lip. He’s into something bad. I don’t know what. I don’t need to know what. But I know Patrick’s more than just your happy-go-lucky drunk Irishman.
I took a deep sigh as I pulled into the parking lot of the bar. I hadn’t been back since that night. And I was a little trepidatious because there’s one other thing you don’t know. After I’d given Patrick the money for him to hire a guy to beat up Joey, we’d gone back to his place. I don’t know why. Maybe I was just so sad or maybe it was because I was so grateful. But we went to his bedroom, and well, we had oral sex. Good old 69. Still hasn’t gone out of fashion. And if I’m honest, his tongue did the job. I came. Not the best orgasm I’ve ever had in my life. Not the sort of orgasms that I’ve had with Jackson, but it was pleasant.
And of course, well, I sucked him off too, because that’s what 69 is. Mutual pleasure. He didn’t have the largest cock, but he sure did get hard. And well, when he was about to come, I pulled my mouth away and he looked at me kind of pissed off and he told me he wanted to come in my mouth. Of course, that wasn’t going to happen. I wasn’t that into the moment. And so I said no, and he looked a little bit disappointed, but I allowed him to spurt all over my stomach and he seemed to cheer up. It was the nicest thing I could do at that moment, even though I felt icky. Yeah, I didn’t want a repeat of that night.
After a couple of minutes of lying there with him rubbing my pussy, I got up and I left. It was clear to me that he wanted sex, but I didn’t, not with him. He didn’t say anything, but he was definitely pissed off. I left and wondered if he would still go through with everything, but obviously he had.
I hadn’t seen him since that night and I was slightly nervous that he might be hoping for a fuck this time. Especially with me looking as hot as I looked right now. I didn’t want to go into the bar with him thinking that there was going to be any sort of repeat of what had happened. I wasn’t going to give him a blow job, I didn’t want him to go down on me, and we certainly weren’t going to have sex. I just needed information. I needed him to feel like he might get laid but not to expect it.
I couldn’t leave this bar with him because if I did, he would definitely think something was up. This was going to be much harder than I thought. I wasn’t really made to play the femme fatale. Maybe it’s not in my personality. I mean, I’m sure you can tell I’m not always the most aggressive and confident person. Sometimes I am. But not most of the time.
I got out of the car and slammed my door shut. I pushed my shoulders back, held my head high, and walked towards the bar. Even though I wasn’t the most confident person in the world, I sure knew how to fake it. And tonight I was going to fake it until I got the information that I needed.
Chapter 13
Rain started falling as soon as I got out of the car.
“Shit,” I mumbled under my breath. “Really? Does it really have to rain tonight?”
I was in the shortest dress ever with no jacket, no cardigan, I’d pressed my hair out, and all for what? If it started pouring, I was going to look like a drenched rat. I chewed down on my lower lip. I mean, I was going to be inside, so it was unlikely I’d get soaking. I’d just have to run to my car afterward.
But what if I got home and my parents saw me in the hallway, and I was drenched? They wouldn’t believe I was just dressing up for fun. They’d know I’d been outside … but I wouldn’t worry about that yet. That was the least of my problems.
I continued walking towards the bar. I was about two steps away from opening the door when I felt someone grab my arm and pull me to the side.
“Ow!” I yelled, ready to scream as I pulled away.
“You’re looking for me, Rosie?”
I turned around and looked into the dark eyes of Jackson. His lips were thin. He was wearing all black so that he almost faded into the night.
What was he doing here? How did he know I was going to be here? Was he the one who was having to be followed? But that didn’t make sense. If he was the one having me followed, why would he tell me I was being followed? Why would he send me the photographs?
“How did you know I was looking for you?”
“You went to the hotel today?”
“Yeah. How do you know?” I raised an eyebrow at him, my heart racing. “They said the room that we’ve been staying in once or twice a week for the last month has not been occupied for months. So what is going on, Jackson?”
I said his name slowly, drawing it out, staring into his eyes to see if he would flinch.
“Why did you go looking for me and asking questions?” He looked tense, and I shivered.
“Because I wanted some answers.”
“And you couldn’t ask me?”
“I didn’t have any way to get in contact with you.”
“You knew you were going to see me in a couple of nights.”
“I couldn’t wait a couple of nights.”
“What did you want to know?” His voice was deep, husky, and I shivered again, fixated on his lips. I wanted to kiss him, but this was a crazy time to even be thinking about anything like that.
“Is your name Alexi?” I blurted out. He still didn’t flinch.
“Why did you come to the hotel, Rosie?”
“How do you even know my name is Rosie?” I said. “You never actually told me.”
“Hmm?”
“You made it seem like it’s common knowledge because my dad is a senator, but I thought about it, and I’ve only been on TV a couple of times and, yes, I might be mentioned in news articles, but they don’t often show my photo. So how did you know I was Rosie?”
He was silent for what felt like hours, then he grabbed my hand and pulled me to the side of the building.
“What are you doing?” I was flustered. This wasn’t in the plan.
“I like your dress,” he said, looking down. His hands fell to my waist, and he squeezed.
“What are you doing, Jackson?”
He pushed me back against the wall, then his lips fell to mine, and he kissed me. I kissed him back as his hands ran down to my ass and he pulled the bottom of my skirt up slightly. That was all he needed to do for his hands to be on my ass.
“You’re wearing a thong.” He pulled back. There was a glint in his eyes that I recognized. I licked my lips nervously. “Why were you coming to the bar tonight, Rosie?”
“No, you’re not going to deflect the question on me. I want to know how you know my name, and I want to know how you know I’m here right now.”
“I was keeping an eye on you.”
“What do you mean you were keeping an eye on me?”
“I was outside your house in my car because I wanted to see who was following you,” he said softly. “I wanted to make sure you weren’t in any trouble.”
“So you decided to stalk me to try and track my stalker? Is that what you’re saying?”
“When you put it like that, it sounds bad.”
“Yeah, it kind of does sound bad. How do I know that you’re not my original stalker?”
“Why would I do that?” He shook his head. “Does that make any sense?”
“Maybe not.”
“Stop chewing on your lower lip, Rosie,” he growled. “Because if you keep that up, I’m going to want to suck on it, and I think we have bigger things to talk about right now.”
“Oh yeah, like what?”
“Like why you’re wearing a thong to a bar at 10:30 at night.” He sounded pissed. “Who are you hoping to pick up? Or are you meeting someone here?”
“What?” Was he jealous? Was he actually jealous?
“I said, are you here to pick someone up? Did I not fuck you good enough the last time?”
“I’m not even going to answer that question, Jackson, because you haven’t answered my first question. How did you know I’m Rosie? And you haven’t told me if your real name was Alexei and—”
“Shut up,” he said, and he pressed his lips against mine again, kissing me harder, his tongue sliding into my mouth. I melted against him. His fingers slipped between my legs and he rubbed my clit. I was already wet. I moaned as he slipped a finger inside of me, and I gripped his shoulders.
This was not what I had planned for the evening, but I loved it. I couldn’t tell him no. I’ve been wanting him since I’d last seen him.
“Jackson, I want answers,” I mumbled, as I pushed him away slightly. “You can’t just think that you can quiet me with sex.”
“I’ll give you all the answers you need afterward.”
“After what?” I said.
“After this.” He slid the zipper of his pants down, and his cock sprang free. I gasped as he started to rub my clit again.
“I know you want it, Rosie.”
“Jackson, I ...”
My eyes went wide as he pulled me away from the wall and lifted me up. Instinctively, I wrapped my legs around his waist. Who was I to deny something that we both wanted? Of course, it started raining more heavily then. The raindrops were washing down my face, and I knew that we were both going to be drenched.
“It’s raining. We can’t,” I said, as he kissed me.
“We can. Does it really matter if it’s raining?” he whispered against my lips. “Doesn’t it just make it even hotter?”
“Jackson, I—” And then he slid into me. He adjusted my body against the wall, and I wrapped my legs even tighter, closing my eyes as he thrust into me more deeply. Oh, shit. I didn’t even know what to think, what to feel. Here I was at the side of a bar. Anyone who parked and even looked to the side would see us, and yet I didn’t care.
My body bounced back and forth against the wall as he fucked me, and the rain poured harder and harder until we were both soaked. I’d heard about singing in the rain and dancing in the rain, but I’ve never heard about fucking in the rain. I’d never known it could feel so primal and so good. As he fucked me harder and harder, I grabbed his hair and pulled because this feeling was too amazing and powerful.
Then I heard voices. People were leaving the bar. My eyes flew open and stared into his. He was staring at me intensely and yet he didn’t stop. He just gave me the most wicked, delicious grin, and I knew that he loved the fact that we could get caught. I knew that he wasn’t going to stop and crazy as it sounded, I didn’t want him to stop. I needed to come. I was so close.
But then two men walked past us, not seeing us, talking and laughing. The light from the parking lot shone on their faces.
I froze.
I recognized the men. Here I was on the side of the bar getting fucked by a stranger that I wasn’t even sure if I knew his real name, and there, not 10 feet away from me, stood Patrick with a smile on his face, laughing. Next to him stood James, my fiancé, with the same cocky grin he’d worn at lunch. Patrick knew James? I froze, wanting to push Jackson away, but I couldn’t.
He thrust into me harder, deeper. As I felt his release, my own body started climaxing as well. I closed my eyes and bit down on his shoulder to stop myself from screaming. When I opened my eyes about 20 seconds later, the two men were gone, almost as if I’d imagine it. But I hadn’t. I hadn’t imagined it. Patrick knew James, and I had no idea how or why.
And I knew then that this went way deeper than I’ve ever imagined.
Thanks for reading Feels Like Falling. Part Two, Feels Like Flying will be out next week. Buckle your seatbelts because you’re in for an exciting ride. You can preorder it here.
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Afterword
This book came to me on a Monday morning as I was trying to write another book. The storyline was so crazy that I knew I had to write it right away. I haven’t heard a strong urge to write a story in a long time. And since my mum passed away unexpectedly in January, it has felt like pulling teeth writing books recently. However, this book came to me fast and furious!
I love to read and watch shows that shock and surprise me and I wanted to write this as a serial to keep the anticipation high, yet have the books released fast enough that the wait didn’t seem too long. I hope you love the Feels Like Falling series.
This novella series is for my beautiful mum who passed away unexpectedly at the beginning of January. She taught me to write what I loved and to follow my dreams as best as I can. This series is what has been calling my name, in all its crazy gloriousness. Rest in peace, mum. I love you!
Jaimie
XOXO
J. S. Cooper, Feels Like Falling
