CHAPTER FIVE: in which they meet in the present part 3- JAMESON

Present day

JAMESON

She tipped toed into the alcove, her feline eyes wary. “Um, Jae, can you give me a moment? I really need to use the restroom.” Before I could reply, she left in a flash of a pink skirt and silver sandals.

The tension I felt at finding out she was engaged (Dear God, I hoped not married) must have radiated outward and caused her to bolt. I cursed myself for letting it show. Given what I knew about Vegas, I should have waited for her to make the first move.

***

“Can we talk ... for a bit?”

I smiled down at her curls. They set me on fire with their tickles on my chin.

“That would be fantastic, Vegas.”

The hotel room had a small dining table. On opposite sides stood two uncomfortable looking hard-backed chairs. I moved in that direction, but she pulled my hand in the other direction... the direction of the bed.

Vegas kicked off her shoes and climbed up, her knee digging into the mattress. She leaned back into the pillows, her dark hair spilling out behind her—a sharp contrast to the white bedding.

That woman was a true vision. She was a new dawn after a hard night.

Vegas tilted her head and poked her pink tongue from between her lips. Her seductive entreaty caused a warm rush of desire throughout my body, effectively heating me up after a two-year cold spell. 

“Do you mind?” I asked, pointing to the cashmere blue sweater Shelia had gotten me last Christmas.

“No. Not at all.”

The soft material ruffled my hair, pulling it back from my forehead. A sudden coolness floated around my midriff. The removal of my sweater had loosened the cotton tee from my jeans. It clung in a bunch, just under my pecs.

Vegas’s eyes scanned my torso. I didn’t have a bulky gym body like my best friend Axel, but I had definition. My hip bones jutted from above the top of my jeans while the black band of my tanks hugged my flat abs.

I tossed the soft blue ball into a chair and joined her on the bed, grabbing the remote from the nightstand. Twirling it in my hand gave me something to focus on while I waited for her to speak.

“So what is your actual name?”

I flipped the remote from one hand to the other, the red colored off switch catching my eye.

“It’s Jameson.”

“And you last name, Jameson?”

“Thijssen. It’s Dutch.”

“How do you spell it?”

I told her. The remote warmed in my hands as I continued to avoid her gaze.

“And how do you pronounce it again?”

“The ‘thij’ is like ‘thigh’ and then ‘sen’ like ‘sin’.”

She giggled. The remote skipped the rhythm and landed in my crotch area. Right on top of my growing member.

“I bet many people get that wrong.” She snatched up the channel changer, her fingers lingering a little too long on my puffed out front.

“Vegas—”

She sprang from the bed. The memory foam pillow slowly lifting from her indented form. Her sudden movement cooled my passion, but not my want of her.

I followed to her place before the ceiling to floor window. She gazed out at the darkness, seeing nothing. Still as a statue, her silhouette was a relief in beauty. I marveled at the way the night carved the supple strength of her arms, the turn of her slim calf, and the thin length of her fingers.

“Are you hungry?” She asked, staring into the frosty night. “I could go for something to eat. I was too nervous...” Her hands fluttered in an intricate dance. She stilled them by wrapping them around her waist. “I haven’t eaten all day.”

“Sure. Let me get the room service menu.”

I place the order for buffalo wings and a Caesar salad to share. At Vegas’s nod, I ordered a bottle of Riesling to go with the spicy meal.

“Please charge it to my room, number 643.” I turned my back on her pursed lips and scowling eyes. I wanted to pay. God knows I had money enough. At least my wife...ex-wife didn’t get her claws too deep into that.

The in-room dining operator drew in a breath. “Um, Mr. Jameson ... oh boy, um, Thigesin?”

“Thigh - sin,” I said with the practiced voice of a person who had long suffered the mangling of their name.

The operator let out a shrill giggle. “Oh, I never would have guessed that.” She must have realized I wasn’t laughing along and she cleared her throat, becoming professional once more. “Will that be all, sir?”

“Yes, thank you.” I ended the call and put the receiver back in its cradle.

“You didn’t have to pay for it, Jae,” Vegas said from her spot on the bed. In her reclining pose, she was once more the picture of ease. “But thank you.”

I shrugged, refusing to acknowledge the flutter in my stomach because of the nickname she had given me. No one called me “Jae”. It was Jameson (the ex-wife and close friends) or Mr. Thijssen (practically everyone else).

It wouldn’t due to lie so close to her. Neither of us were ready for that. Instead, I took refuge in a chair and yes; it was indeed as uncomfortable as it looked. And I suffered for nothing. Just looking at Vegas had me growing hard again.

Vegas’s full lips poked out prettily above her scrunched chin. “Why don’t you lie here?” she said, her hand smoothing out the rumpled surface of the bed.

I imagined her palm running along my thigh and up my stomach, and it took only a matter of seconds before I was stiffer than a pair of cheap jeans.

“I’m fine here, Vegas.” I pulled down my tee, covering up my obvious excitement. “I thought you wanted to talk?”

She rolled forward and crossed her arms underneath her breasts, pushing them up. My mouth watered, and it wasn’t because of the forthcoming chicken wings. I wanted this woman. I needed her. At the moment, I didn’t know if finding a release in her was my way of escaping the pain of my divorce or if it was more. 

Only time would tell.

“I want to talk, Jae. But over dinner and a bottle of wine.” Her amber eyes pierced me and her voice became honeyed. “In the meantime, why don’t you pack up your stuff so you can stay here with me?”

Her wish was my command. In under ten seconds, I was out the door with a mumbled, “Be back in a few.” I didn’t even bother to put my shoes on.

While I was in my room, haphazardly stuffing my overnight bag with my spare shirt and toiletries, a bitter chill went down my spine.

Would she still be waiting for me, or would she run?