Page 97 of Bourbon Kingdom
“You really think it’s that easy?”
Stroking her cheek with my thumb, I answered, “Little one, I know it’s that easy.”
Just as I leaned forward, letting her know I would love to take her lips, I pulled away, causing her to groan out loud from my abandoned position.
“You’re a tease,” she complained, as she pushed my chest, trying to put distance between us, but I didn’t allow for it. No, I just pulled her in closer.
“If I’m a tease, then that means you wanted what I was offering. If that’s the case, little one, all you have to do is ask.”
“Nice try, Jett. You’re not going to get into my pants that easily.”
I just nodded and I allowed my thumb to graze her bare skin, causing all kinds of emotions to run through her expressive eyes. Her body was heated and the warmth was pouring into mine, making my job of not making the first move that much harder, but I was a man of my word. Even though she slowly moved closer to me, inch by little inch, I kept my mental distance and decided to focus on getting to know Goldie, on letting her get to know me.
Continuing to touch her in every way possible, I asked her, “So what do you want to know about me? I’m an open book, ask away.”
“Anything?” Her eyes lit up and I could see the inner cogs of her mind working, trying to come up with some juicy and invasive questions to ask me.
“Easy now, I can see your mind is up to no good. Take it easy on me, Goldie, I’m new at this sharing thing.”
“All right,” she smiled softly at me while pressing her hand to my cheek, a gesture that fucking melted me right into her damn palm. “Tell me about your mom.”
Fuck, she wasn’t going to take it easy at all. It was time to man up.
“My mom was a beautiful woman, who was dealt a bad hand in life. She fell in love with my father, unfortunately, and was manipulated by him until my father got what he wanted, a son to pass his enterprise onto. After I was born, my dad decided he didn’t need my mom anymore, divorced her, and proved her to be unstable, so my dad gained custody of me. I was torn away from her right after birth and raised by Miss Mary.”
“Oh, my God,” Goldie said in but a whisper. “I can’t imagine having my baby taken away from me like that. Your poor mother. Did she at least get a good settlement?”
“No,” I shook my head. “She was left with nothing and had to fend for herself; she wound up trying to make a living on Bourbon Street, but wasn’t too successful. She wound up with AIDS and died right after I was able to escape my father’s wrath. She spent her last days with me in the Lafayette Club, enjoying the sunshine and my company.”
A small tear rolled down Goldie’s cheek as she looked at me with sincerity.
“That is so sad.”
I wiped the tear from her cheek and agreed with her. “It is; that’s why I created the Lafayette Club, to seek justice for women like my mother, to give them a second chance. I like to think I brought some honor to her.”
“You have,” Goldie agreed. “So, Miss Mary would help you see your mom when your dad was gone? Were you able to give her money?”
“No, my dad kept a tight hold on the money I earned, said I would appreciate it when I was older. So, instead, I would take my mom food and anything she could possibly pawn without my dad noticing. It helped a little, but she still lived in a freezing cold apartment and went hungry most nights.” I took a second to breathe as a tight ball formed in my throat. I couldn’t think about my mom this much; the thought of her suffering while I was provided for still gutted me to this day.
“Why would your dad do something like that?”
“Because he’s heartless. He doesn’t care about anything but himself and the power to control what’s important to him. I told you he was a bad man, Goldie, do you understand now?”
“I do,” she said softly.
“He taught me how to be ruthless, how to take advantage of those weaker than me, and he taught me how to turn my heart into a cold abyss of darkness. Emotions are not my thing. I’m not very good at expressing myself or accepting compliments. I have a hard time relating to people and can be just as ruthless sometimes when it’s something I want.”
My thumb ran up her side to her face, where I slowly stroked her bottom lip. “I want to give you everything you want, Goldie. I want to please you, to protect you, but I know there are parts of me that are rougher around the edges than others. You deserve more than me, your heart deserves to be paired with one that is full and bright, one that matches yours, not a cold, black heart like mine.”
“But, it’s not black, Jett,” she replied, while her small hand pressed against my chest, right above my heart. “You think it’s black, but it’s the furthest thing from it. You might have a hard time expressing yourself, but you do a damn fine job expressing who you are through your actions. You’ve proven to be a rescuer, an angel to me and the girls and even Diego. You save people, Jett. As much as you want to deny it, you are full of love, you’re a hero—”
“No,” I shook my head. “I’m not a hero, I’m just . . .” my words fell short at Goldie’s lips on mine.
Her hands encased my face as her body slowly moved on top of mine and her lips gently nipped at mine.
There was only so much a man could take before he snapped, and having Goldie’s small body on top of mine was my snapping point.
Instinctively, my hands found her hips where her shirt had risen from her movements, giving me a great expanse of skin to press my hands against. She was so soft, delicate but hard at the same time. She didn’t take crap from anyone, especially me. She was a stark contradiction of soft and hard, something I loved about her.
