Eyes wide, Jessica parted her lips but didn’t speak. She nodded again.
“Good. I’m glad we’re on the same page.” Gavin handed his credit card to Miguel, who’d approached with their drinks. “Three: I’ve been around many intriguing women, so don’t take my statement as a compliment. I know how to flatter a woman better than telling her I find her under-sexed, crazed approach intriguing. Four: If you want to fuck, we can fuck. My house is a two-minute walk from here. But I’ll warn you now, that’s all it’ll be. Don’t expect a sleep over. I’ll fuck you, and fuck you very well, but I’ll send you on your way once our escapade is over. I won’t give you my number, and you’ll never enter my thoughts again. So now, Jessica…” Gavin cupped his chin, the crease of his brows showing he was trying to remember her last name.
“Layton,” Jessica answered, her voice cracking. “My last name’s Layton.”
“Ahh, that’s right. So now, Miss Jessica Layton, the ball’s in your court.” Gavin ran a hand through his hair and shot her a wink. Once again, Miguel approached the table with Gavin’s credit card. After shoving it back into his wallet, Gavin looked across the table at Jessica sitting speechless, her fingers rubbing up and down her neck. “Make the call, Jessica, because honestly, if we don’t do this,” he said with a light shrug, “I’ll just go back to my joint and milk my own dick.”
With shock twisting her face, Jessica stood, slipped her sandal back on, and reached for her clutch.
Assuming his curt response had scared her off, Gavin gave another shrug as his eyes landed on the family he was admiring earlier. He watched them make their way, hand in hand, over to a small, two-door clunk of shit. He knew his riches couldn’t compare to their happiness. He wanted that happiness. He wanted that clunk of shit.
“Well, are you ready?” Jessica asked, her voice laced with sexual urgency.
Gavin tore his attention from the fading dream and watched Jessica pluck his bourbon from his hands. She finished it in one long gulp. After placing the empty glass on the table, she brushed her fingertips across Gavin’s temple, down the side of his cheek, and over the curve of his jaw. Gavin momentarily stiffened, trying not to flinch at her touch. He rose and grabbed Jessica’s hand. His feet, as if they had a mind of their own, led them toward his place.
“So, aren’t you a little curious as to why I’m in Mexico alone?” Jessica questioned as they made their way down a small wooden walkway.
Looking out onto the tumbling waves, the last of the sun falling asleep below the horizon, Gavin shook his head. “Not really.”
“You know, you’re really not a nice guy.” She pulled her hand away. Its absence didn’t affect Gavin either way. Still, she followed closely by his side.
“No. I’m too much of a nice guy,” Gavin mumbled, idly wondering where Emily was in that moment. Loneliness flooded his chest, but he welcomed its suffocating presence. This was something he knew. It was all too familiar to him. He almost considered it an old buddy.
“Right,” Jessica huffed, her tone tight with skepticism. “Well, considering what we’re about to do, maybe you can try to be a little… pleasant?”
Stopping just shy of his place, Gavin looked at her, his brow drawn up. “Look, I laid it all out. I can do sex, but I won’t do pleasantries. Take it or leave it.” For the barest second, Gavin felt ill to his stomach. He’d been raised to always treat women with respect, and he pictured his father’s disgust with the way he was acting. Still, the thought was fleeting. His old habit screamed, waving its self-medication in his face.
Shut down. Shut off. Disconnect.
Jessica pursed her lips. “Fine. Only because I need this more than you know.”
Once on his porch, Jessica whipped her crimson hair to the side, and Gavin was suddenly engulfed by the scent of her body. Her jasmine perfume aroused memories he was trying to forget. It shook him, nearly staggering his balance. He took a deep breath and steadied himself. Looking down at her wanting green eyes, he brought his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her hard into his mouth. She pressed her chest against his and let out a soft moan, her hands coming up to grasp his hair. Her moan, although filled with seductive, feminine yearning, wasn’t the moan he wanted to hear. Her lips, sweet in their own way, didn’t feel right locked on his. They didn’t mold to his like a piece to a puzzle.