All That Jazz (Butler Cove #1)

I nodded and grabbed the box. “Yes.”

Hurrying to my apartment, I slipped into my room through the sliding door and dumped the box on my bed. Then I took the picture and walked through to the kitchen. Mom was still not home, which suited me fine at that moment. I reached up into the cupboard above the fridge and pulled down the vodka. There was only about a fifth of a bottle left. Dammit. I stuffed it in my back pack and then slipped back through my bedroom and out the door. I took the long way around and made it to my kayak without Woody seeing me. I glided over dark water to All That Jazz.

As soon as I was down inside the cabin, I turned on the camp lantern and put some Ella on really low. I wished I could play it loud and lose myself but sound carried over the water. I swallowed down a shot of vodka. Followed by two more.

Ugh, it made me feel ill. I put the rest of the bottle away.

I was at a loss. It didn’t feel comforting being here at all. The music wasn’t helping. I fidgeted and pulled the photo of me in my cowgirl boots out. I couldn’t even summon up the happy feeling I’d had upon first seeing it. I think I’d even laughed. How was that possible?

Had my father taken this photo, or had my mother sent it?

Why was I even out here? I let out a long sigh.

Then I heard the unmistakable sounds of someone outside, tying up a kayak. I knew it was Joey. And tonight I was going to make sure he helped me forget everything.





I POPPED MY head above deck, and as soon as I confirmed it was Joey, I climbed down without saying a word. Perfect.

I felt cold and lifeless in my chest, which was unexpected. I thought I’d be sadder about my dad by now. At least now that the shock had worn off. But maybe it hadn’t.

Running shoes and bare calves appeared on the ladder.

I sat on the bench and waited for him to climb down. Joey turned, and I grabbed his hand, pulling him down toward me.

He laughed lightly at my enthusiasm and dropped his lips to mine.

Opening my mouth under his, I kissed him hard. I kissed him like I was wild with want. I was wild. But it was wildness borne of a frantic need to feel something. To feel anything. I grabbed his hair and stroked his tongue with mine.

“God, Jazz,” he groaned against my mouth. “Slow down. You okay?”

“Fine,” I responded and kissed him again. And suddenly I knew what I needed to fill this empty aching. I was going to do exactly what I’d told my father I was planning. Lose my virginity. And I was doing it right now, with Joey. There was no better time than right now. No other time I needed this more than right this very second.

I pulled my lips off his.

Joey’s cheeks were flushed. Like the sun had kissed the tops of his cheekbones. His blue eyes were like dark denim.

Finally the three shots of vodka I’d had earlier were making their presence felt in the loosening of my inhibitions. My fingers went to the buttons of my shorts, and I crept backward into the berth in the bow of the boat. Sitting on the soft vinyl mattress I shimmied my shorts over my butt and down my legs. I was in my most boring pair of white panties. Typical.

Joey stood still hunched over in the small galley, hands braced either side of him staring at me intently. “What are you doing, Jazz?”

I pursed my lips, I lifted a shoulder. “My shorts were uncomfortable?”

He shook his head.

“Come on over here, Joseph. I won’t bite.”

“I’m not altogether sure about that.” He leaned down and crept forward onto the mattress. “But I’m not sure I’d complain.”

“I think we better stack,” I grinned and held onto his neck, pulling him in on top of me. “Not much room for both of us to have our own space.”

With all of the kissing we’d done, we’d never lain down together, and as our bodies connected, his heavy frame settling between my legs, we both groaned.

I laughed at us and felt his smiling lips on my neck. And I wondered how when I was with Joey, the rest of the world completely melted away. It was remarkable and addictive. And so very necessary.

His mouth found his way back to mine, his weight on his elbows. Within moments the low banked passion in our kisses roared into a hot blaze as our tongues stroked, our hands caressed, and our lower bodies rocked together.

“I love your mouth,” Joey whispered, and his tongue skated down my neck, making me shudder. “And the taste of your skin. You taste of salt and vanilla.”

“That tastes good?”

“Funny. Stop talking.”

“No, wait.”

He lifted his face up, looking down at me. His eyes were heavy. Like he was tired, but the look that glittered under his lids said it was arousal. Not that I had much experience recognizing this expression, but on Joseph it was like there’d never been a time when I didn’t know what it meant. It was so obvious. And damn, it felt so good. The way he looked at me scorched me clear down to my toes.

“What?” he asked.

“What?”