Mine, Not Hers (True Love Book 1) (16 page)

Jason

Something is definitely wrong. I can feel it. I could end up losing her, while trying to protect her. God, how did this happen?

Katie

There she is, in my dream again. Now that I’ve seen her face to face, her image is even clearer. I sense myself trying to wake up, but I can’t. I don’t want to see this again, but I’m somehow drawn to it. The two of them, Jason and Cynthia are on a beach. She’s topless, and he’s rubbing oil all over her body. He’s caressing her breasts slowly as sunshine glimmers off the oil. Her eyes are closed and she’s unabashedly enjoying herself.

His hands are all over her body. Up and down her legs, all over her rear, her stomach, arms and breasts. She’s lying on her back with her thong bottom untied at the sides. She wiggles a little and the bottom falls away so she’s exposed. He uses more oil and rubs her between her thighs. His fingers are exploring her pussy and ass. His hands are slick with grease making easy work of slipping his fingers inside her. She writhes as he takes his time with her body.

He spreads her legs apart, and leans down between to have a taste. He licks his lips and digs his face in deep. His fingers are still fucking her while he licks and kisses every inch of her. I don’t want to see any more of this, I can’t. I start screaming and run down the beach, trying hard to get them to hear me and stop. I feel strong hands on my shoulders, and realize where I am. I’m sitting upright in bed, and Jason is looking at me, terrified.

“Honey, what is it? What’s wrong?”

He’s panicking. I’m soaked with sweat and breathing heavily. I’m trying to control my breathing, and slow my heart rate. It was just a dream, it was just a dream, and I woke myself up! Poor Jason. He looks at me intently to judge my mental state.

“It was just a crazy nightmare, honey, I’m sorry for waking you. Go back to sleep.”

He holds me tight and spoons me for the rest of the night. He’s out on his morning run by the time my eyes open. I check my phone. I have two missed calls and two texts from Colleen:
Are you OK? Did you talk to Jason? When can I come over? If I don’t hear from you soon, I’ll just head your way.

Melanie also left a voicemail:
Hi, sweetie, just me, wondering how you’re doing today. Call me as soon as you get up. Did you get a chance to speak to Jason or did he woo you again?
She laughed into the phone before she hung up. I don’t know what I would do right now without these girls. They are keeping me sane. I call Melanie back first. I’m sure Colleen is already on her way here. Melanie answers on the first ring as if she’s been waiting by the phone all morning.

“Hello? Katie?”

“Hi, girl, yeah, it’s me. I got your message this morning, thanks. To answer your question, yes, he
did
woo me. The man is a god.”

She laughs hard on the other end. “Well, at least you’re still getting it! Where is your friend, Colleen? Is she coming over today?” I hear it in her voice how excited she is. Her life is so mundane, I think she’s grateful for the distraction.

“Well, she is, but Jason is home today and the kids are at my parents’ so if we want any privacy maybe we should come down to you.”

“Great! I’ll put on the coffee. See you in a few.”

I hear Jason come in the back door from his run. I throw on some leggings and a sweatshirt and head downstairs. Oh my Lord. He’s standing in front of the fridge bare-chested and sweaty, gulping down some water. He looks over at me and slowly smiles.

“Hey, don’t I know you? Weren’t you in my bed last night? Wow, you’re sexy as hell,” he says as he walks across the kitchen to where I’m standing. He smells delicious. I don’t know how he can smell this good having just come in from exercising, but he does. I have to swallow hard to get my voice back.

“Yeah, you look familiar, too. If that
was
you in
my
bed, I’d like you to know you’re welcome to
come
anytime.”

I’m not as good with sexy talk as he is, but I try. He slowly leans into me to give me a soft kiss on the lips, and lightly touches me with his sweaty body. Our lips connect and there it is, the buzz. It’s always been there, and I hope to God it always will be. He feels it too, I can tell. He shivers a little, and then swats me on the butt.

“I’m going to go shower. Are there any plans with your friends today? Will I get to see Colleen and Tom?”

Back to paranoid reality. “I’m not sure yet. I’m going over to Melanie’s; Colleen’s meeting us there. I’ll call you later.”

“OK honey, just let me know.”

He heads up the stairs to shower. I feel a little calmer after last night, but I need to chat with my girls. I arrive at Melanie’s, and Colleen’s car is already there. I’m so glad they’ve hit it off; I knew they would. I may not have many friends, but the ones I do have are golden. They’ve been so understanding and nonjudgmental throughout this crazy ordeal.

I’m ready to forget the entire thing. Jason loves me, and I know he’s faithful and trustworthy. I should just move on, which is what I’m thinking when I walk into Melanie’s house, until I see that
look
on Colleen’s face. Whatever she has to tell me, she’s obviously already told Mel, because Mel looks like she’s about to pop. She grabs me by the arm, and yanks me into the kitchen where Colleen is smiling. I give her a strange look.

“What? Tell me, for God sakes!”

She starts. Full of drama, I can tell she’s going to enjoy this one. She has me on the edge of my seat.

Jason

My phone buzzes with a text.

Cynthia to Jason
:
Guess who
I
just ran into?

Jason to Cynthia:
Don’t even fucking say it. I warned you to stay away from her! Jesus Christ, I’m not even going to ask how you got this number, I’m sure the same way you got all the others.

Cynthia to Jason:
She came to me, even used a fake name. What have you told her?
BTW, I can always find you, sweetie, you know that xx

Jason to Cynthia:
Nothing! Why would I? I’m trying to protect her from you! I was beginning to think you had contacted her. She’s been acting really strangely. She obviously knows something about you, I just don’t know how or what. You better pray to God she doesn’t.

What the hell is going on? How did Katie find out about Cynthia, and how did she find her? I’m surprised she hasn’t asked me anything; she’s usually so honest and direct when she’s upset. I have to fix this, and fast.

Cynthia

This campus is huge. I’ve been lost all morning looking for my classes. Northwestern is beautiful, but, most importantly, it’s far away from Boston. I had to get away from everything there, not that I had much choice. I’m sure Mommy and Daddy have barely noticed that I’m gone. As long as they continue to write the checks, and I stay out of trouble, all is good in their world.

“Just don’t embarrass us,” seems to be their mantra. Not “we love you” or “Congratulations for being named valedictorian,” no none of that. It’s only, “Don’t fuck up anymore and make us look like fools in our circle of friends.” I don’t really see how getting caught fucking the quarterback behind our church is such a big deal. It’s not like I was ever caught while I was blowing my chemistry teacher, as my history teacher fucked me in the teachers’ lounge bathroom. Everyone in school knew, but no one ever dared cross my family or me.

My father is a judge, and my mother has made a profession out of smartly managing their social calendar. While I’m more than smart enough to have earned my excellent grades, my teachers usually gave them to me anyway, as payment for “jobs” well done.

I was young, probably seventh grade, when I realized I had something men wanted. I’ve always been pretty. My mother and her friends would chatter endlessly about how perfect my features were. Of course, that was until my body grew into something they envied and their husbands drooled over. The compliments from the women stopped, and the leers from the men began.

I also learned how men’s dicks make all the decisions, including, and especially, some really bad ones. It never ceases to amaze me how easily I can lure even the most honest of men astray. I mostly do it to feel the rush of power I have over them. It’s an addiction. Some I actually want to fuck, but the rest are weak wimps whose lives I could ruin in minutes. I hardly even have to try anymore. A wayward button on my blouse falls open, and their eyes graze over my chest. Got ‘em on the hook. I’ve given many teachers hard-ons while in class. That kind of power is a rush, and like any good junkie, I’m always chasing that blissful first buzz.

My parents are known for lavish, invitation-only parties. These are coveted invites that only the seriously connected can come by. Older judges and attorneys bring their newest rising stars to make the rounds and introductions. The torch must be passed at some point, and they like to make sure they personally groom the ones who will receive it. My mother is pure gold at knowing who needs to sit by whom, who doesn’t speak to whom, and who screwed their colleagues’ wife. The most valuable tool to have in high society is discretion, and my mother has it in spades.

She also knows that I’m a hot commodity who makes them look good. I’d been instructed long ago when to make my entrance, whom to talk to and when to leave. This method has worked well for most parties. Men fawn over me and women are just jealous enough to envy my mother for having such a striking daughter. What they weren’t aware of, however, is how many times I “accidentally” brushed up against one of their guests with my breasts, or let my hand wander to find a swollen crotch in a crowded room. All it takes is a smile, and they obediently follow.

One particularly fun party was also my last. A handsome young lawyer was invited to attend. My mother thought it might be nice if I stayed for dinner, and she placed me next to him at the table. He was single and considered one of the most eligible bachelors in Boston. I had just graduated from high school, and had been accepted everywhere I applied, including Harvard. Both of my parents went to school there, and wanted me to stay close so they could keep an eye on me. I think my mother figured that if I began to date someone respectable, this would help us all.

The young lawyer was taken with me, hanging on every word I said. His eyes were making the rounds across my body all night. I had decided to wear, much to the dismay of my mother, a clingy, low-cut black cocktail dress with a slit up to my hip. Not many high school girls could have pulled it off, but I wasn’t most high school girls. I wore a teardrop diamond pendant that sat just above the swell of my breasts. I played with it all night while talking to him, and he kept his eyes firmly fixed beneath it.

When we sat down to eat, I allowed the slit of my dress to fall open to his side. The cut of the dress revealed that I wasn’t wearing any underwear. I heard him swallow hard as he adjusted the crotch of his pants. See? Easy. I was proficiently eating with one hand, while the other caressed his swollen dick. He was trying to pay attention to the men talking to him, but he was coming off like a bumbling idiot. After the meal was finished, everyone rose to relax in the living room while the staff cleared the table. This was the perfect time to escape with him.

He followed me out to the pool house. I went behind the bar without saying a word and grabbed a bottle of whiskey. I took his hand and led him to the back room without turning on the lights. He came up behind me and spun me around as fast as he could. He framed my face with his hands, and began to kiss me. I had a feeling he already knew of my reputation, but most men love to think they are the exception. My burning desire is only for them, and they might even be my first. Yeah, right.

He was close to my age in relation to most of my other conquests, and hot. This one should be fun for
me
for once. I stepped back from him for a moment, and reached around my neck to the single clasp holding my dress up. I unhooked it and it slowly pooled around my feet, exposing me completely. No bra or panties, just my black sky-high shoes and my exceptional eighteen-year-old body.

He had a look of appreciation on his face. He wasn't like the others, though. He had seduced his fair share of women, and probably treated them the same way I treat men. We both knew we had met our match, and were about to have mind-bending sex. He slowly began to undress, enjoying the view I was giving him as he did.

When he dropped his pants, I was pleasantly surprised. He was huge. He inched closer to me and said, “Keep the shoes on.” He led me over to a large sofa, and laid me down on my back. He hovered over me for a moment and brushed my cheek with the back of his hand. He knelt to kiss me, and we began to fuck. He was amazing, by far the best fuck I’d ever had. We fucked on the couch, over the bar, outside in the pool and once more in his car before he left. He seemed as insatiable as me; I had definitely met my match.

I masturbated twice the next day thinking about him. His cock was so amazing, I couldn’t get enough. He said he would call me and, for once in my life, I was counting the minutes. My mother called me down to breakfast the next morning, and seemed upset, even for her usual unflappable self.

“Cyn-
thia
.” She loved to draw out my name. “Where did you and Mr. Kinney disappear to last evening?” She asked this with undeniable disgust dripping off her tongue.

I rolled my eyes.

“Nowhere. I don’t even know who or what you’re talking about. I went to bed.”

She gave me a glare that would melt an iceberg,

“Well, our security cameras would agree with one part of that statement. You definitely went to bed, and went swimming and enjoyed the use of our beautiful bar.”

I had totally forgotten about those goddamn cameras!

“I’m tired of being watched all the time around here. Hope you learned a thing or two,
Mother,
” I said with more bitchiness than I actually felt. She looked hurt. Truth was, I was busted, and for some reason, I cared. I could have seen myself dating, Mike? Kyle? Well, Mr. Kinney. I would have stayed around Boston and gone to Harvard. Yes, he was that hot. I had a feeling that this was no longer an option.

“You will go to Northwestern. We have decided you will be better off someplace our family name cannot be tarnished any longer. We will send your things out to you when you’re ready. You, on the other hand, are on the first plane out in the morning. We have you staying at the Ritz downtown until you can move into the dorms.”

Period. That was it. No more discussion. I knew better than to try to argue, I would be out on my butt with nothing. At least Chicago is a great city. I spent thousands of my daddy’s dollars on Michigan Avenue the first week. The doormen at my hotel jumped to attention whenever they saw me coming loaded down with bags, and they would stumble over themselves to assist. Of course I tipped them well, but they were much happier when I gave them a little attention. I even blessed one of them with one of my famous blowjobs. He was cute and had followed me up with my bags. I told him I was out of cash to tip him, and I grabbed his crotch at the same time. He was surprisingly well-hung; I could barely fit him down my throat. I made a mental note to fuck him next time.

A young, attractive woman doesn’t have to venture far to find attention, especially in a big city. My hotel had a bar in the lobby, and there were quite a few hot spots not far away. Any given night I was feeling up for a little company, I would head out in one of my eye-popping outfits. I enjoy the cat-and-mouse most nights, but sometimes a girl just needs a quick fuck. No names, no phone numbers, just a hot traveling businessman with a cold wife at home. Easy target. He doesn't want strings anymore than I do. I’m giving him a great deal, too. He doesn’t have to jerk off or hire a hooker. I’m free, and the best fuck he'll ever have.

I finally move into my dorm in mid-August. My parents have at least done right by me in requesting no roommate. I really don’t get along with many women, especially girls my own age. They think I’m a bitch, and I find them boring. Better for all of us if I don’t try.

The guys on the other hand, well, college life is definitely
going to agree with me. Men of all different flavors and ages all here for the taking. I do have an age limit, though. I’ve had too many geezers who take
forever
to come, and quite a few too young who can’t get their dick out before they shoot their load. I’m like Goldilocks, I guess, I want them
just right
.

I search around campus for my next class. Bio lab, I think. I let my counselor choose my schedule for me. I really don’t give a shit what I take, I’ll ace it all anyway. All I need is my degree, and then I’ll marry a rich old fuck and be set. No more Mommy and Daddy holding the purse strings. I locate the building with a few minutes to spare, thank goodness; I hate being late. It's a large lab, mostly freshmen and sophomores, and it’s loud. I have to make an entrance, of course. I flip my long hair over one shoulder and head down to the front. The weather is warm, and I’m wearing skimpy white shorts. I find that thongs that show through are tacky, so I choose to wear nothing underneath. Why hide it? I get the usual appreciative stares from the men, and even some of the girls. There’s something I haven’t done, I’ll have to check out a co-ed, shake things up a bit.

I grab a seat in the front row, and make sure my tank top is nice and low. It’s always best to start out giving the professor or lab rat something to remember. I laugh to myself just how easy life can be for me. I hear the door close loudly in the back of the classroom, and the chatter quiets down. I look up, and my heart stops.

This fucking guy is the most gorgeous man I have ever seen.

He’s tall, really tall, maybe six-five? Taller? And the body, holy shit, the body. He’s wearing a tight cotton workout shirt with some loose jeans, and he’s making my mouth water. Screw the grade; I have to fuck this guy. I feel myself getting wet through my skimpy shorts, and I ache to rub my clit to ease the pulsating. His dark brown hair is longer on top like he hasn't had time for a haircut, or just doesn't care. His eyes are a shocking blue, with thick lashes that are beautiful. He’s beautiful, truly beautiful. He’s mine. Thank God for Mom and Dad sending me to Chicago.

I notice I’m not the only girl in the room who swoons. I hear a few gasps behind me when he turns to write a few things on the whiteboard. His back is chiseled, and so his ass. I can tell, even through the unimpressive clothes, the man is
hot
. Funny thing though, he doesn’t carry himself like he cares that he’s God’s gift to women.

He introduces himself as Jason Weber, graduate assistant and Ph.D. candidate. He’s a physical therapist specializing in sports medicine and rehabilitation. Oh my Lord, to have that man’s hands manipulating my body, it would be worth a debilitating injury. He dives right into the subject matter, and he’s clearly really smart, too. Is there anything this man can’t do? As he writes on the board, I notice a gleaming gold wedding band.
Shit
! Not that the presence of one of those has stopped me before, but this time it’s different. I want him without the hassle of a wife. I’ll have to ask around and see if I can find out his story.