Page 8 of Jaime's Story
I just haven’t managed to get past the fear that we’re too different for her to be happy with me if I could get past the desire to have her home with me rather than being out all the time—trust that when she was out, she wouldn’t betray us.
The second thing is that I’m not entirely sure she’s interested in me—really interested. Every time I see her it’s clear there’s a certain sexual chemistry flowing between us, but that’s a long way off from her being interested in something more than a quick fuck. It’s not the vibe I got from her, and while I’m used to trusting my judgement, on this front, I don’t have the experience—the sexual experience especially—to know if I’m seeing things that aren’t really there on her side.
I don’t let people get close to me. Not after Danielle and the crap with my parents. Jaime has the full potential to crush me and I’m doing my damndest to avoid it. But staying away from her is hard, especially when she’s worried.
It’s not the first time we’ve heard about the skateboarders causing trouble downtown. They’re pissed that their skate park was torn down, and they’ve got nowhere else to go. The main park in town has a skateboard ban so it’s either downtown in the multitude of parking lots that are empty when the normal work-day is finished, or in construction sites. And Jaime’s family construction company makes certain theirs are locked up tight, even have security at some of the bigger ones.
I pull into the lot for her building, stopping just beyond the group that’s showing off jumps, coming off the curb and landing on the lower ground of the slight incline. They stop, eyeing me and my car, and I get out, heading towards the oldest that’s likely eighteen or nineteen. Most of them are probably somewhere between fifteen and seventeen, but there are a few that could easily be twelve or thirteen at most.
“You all need to clear out,” I tell them, staring down at the leader of the bunch as his chin lifts in anger in response. “This is private property and you’re trespassing. Not only is that illegal, but so is harassment and we’ve had plenty of calls from here about that as well,” I add, although I don’t know if it’s true it’s been reported. Based on the smirks on the faces, it’s not a lie that they’ve done it.
“No po-po is gonna tell me what to do, pops,” the leader returns moving up to get in my face and I stand up straight, letting my six-three height intimidate the boy that’s likely only five-seven, five-eight. Jaime’s likely just as tall as him but he has more muscles than her slender form and I don’t want him anywhere near her.
“It’s Detective and yes, I am, kid,” I add making a couple of the others there chuckle. “I might be about twice your age, but I have skills you’ll never begin to master and if you don’t clear out in the next thirty seconds, I’ll prove them while putting your ass in the backseat of my car to take in on trespassing and harassment charges. Think your mommy or daddy will come down to bail you out for that in this weather?”
“Let’s just go man,” one of the others there says and there’s a resemblance between them that makes me think they’re related. The new guy is likely only fifteen or so and it’s clear he doesn’t want the hassle.
“You’re lucky we’re bouncing, pops, or I’d show you that the only thing your age would do is leave you gasping for air,” the idiot postures and I take a step forward, sending him scrambling for his board. The rest of the group runs off without him as I grab hold of the edge of his jacket.
“Don’t come back here, because next time, your ass will be in jail. Pass that along to your little posse and know that if you don’t stop bothering people downtown, the only ones who will feel bothered will be you,” I warn before releasing him, waiting until he’s gone to move my car up to the backdoor to get to Jaime.
She steps through the door as I reach the end of the walkway and fuck, she takes my breath away. She’s dressed in simple black skirt with a teal blouse that makes her stunning blue-grey eyes brighter under an open knee-length creamy white coat. Seeing her like this, would fool anyone into thinking she’s just a regular everyday girl. Not the truth that she has millions in the bank and never had to work a day in her life.
It makes me like her more that she does though. To know that she could sit around and just count her money, but she still gets up every day and comes into the office. Hell, she even works late as is evident by when she found Maia and also again tonight. Although I don’t like the idea of her working late. Especially when the roads are slick like tonight with the rain we got and the temps falling.
A sense of calm settles over me as she draws nearer. She doesn’t look scared, the worry and panic I heard in her voice earlier gone, and I want to think it’s simply for me being here, but I’m sure it’s because those idiots are gone.
“Thank you for coming,” she says, giving me a soft smile that makes it nearly impossible to stop from reaching for her, dragging her up against my body, and devouring every bit of her that she’ll let me.
She meets me half-way up the walkway that leads to the parking lot, and I can’t stop from taking her elbow, guiding her the rest of the way down it. There’s a couple slick spots and she’s wearing heels. Heels that I can all but imagine pressing into my back while she’s under me, which is madness.
Partly because there’s no way that’s going to happen, let alone happen tonight, but also because I’m certain that there’s no way I’d last long enough for her to even wrap her sexy long legs around me in order to enjoy those heels. I’m a thirty-six year old fucking virgin and this Cartwright princess deserves someone that can please her entirely. I don’t know if that’s me, but I sure as hell would give it my best if I got a chance.
Until I saw her three months ago, I hadn’t even felt the urge to take care of my cock in well over a year, and now…well, as hard as I get thinking about her, it feels wrong to touch it myself. When I do give in, it barely gives me any relief, so I’m wired at all hours of the fucking day. And now here she is, my every fantasy, finally alone with me, and I’m ready to burst.
“It wasn’t a problem at all, princess.” The term slips out and I bite my tongue.
I might be a virgin, but I’ve watched enough videos to know what gets me hot. Every time I’ve pictured Jaime, she was being daddy’s good little princess letting me take care of her entirely.
I just can’t believe it slipped out now when I’ve barely gotten a second alone with her to take my shot.
Ninety percent of the time I’ve seen her she’s been surrounded by other people, girls mainly, and there wasn’t a chance in hell I was going to walk over and fumble my way through asking her out in front of a crowd. This is my chance and running her off by making her think me calling her a princess is in any way a bad thing is not fucking it.
Instead of pulling away or even looking at me funny, a smile settles onto her full pink lips and my heart races faster.
“My sisters tease me about always wanting to be the passenger princess,” she says bringing my attention off her lips and up to her eyes. “I don’t like driving on a normal day, loved it when Jillian finally got her license and could drive, so I guess I come by it naturally.”
“Nothing wrong with wanting to be pampered,” I state, making her brow lift a bit, a hint of color in her cheeks that is fucking sexy as hell. It makes me wonder if maybe she’s not as experienced as her poise had me thinking she was these past few months. Maybe it’s simply from being part of the Cartwright family and attending all of the events in town I’d never begin to get an invitation to unless it was through the department.
“Most people think I already am,” she muses, and my brow rises at her tone.
“Your co-workers?” I guess seeing her glance towards the building quickly.
“Yeah, most of them think I got my job by using the Cartwright name, when I didn’t. Now, they’re annoyed whenever my designs get chosen for ads, because you get a bonus if it wasn’t a team project. They’re sure mine are getting chosen simply because of who I am, even though they’re submitted through the company’s own anonymous entry program that was created to be a hundred percent anonymous until you select the winner to reveal their entry identification. The staff that use it have no access to the actual programming just the submitted designs, so they don’t have a clue who did them until they’ve selected the winner.”
“But since you’re a Cartwright, you don’t actually need the money, and they don’t think it’s fair?” I guess and she nods. “You won it fair and square, so just tell them if they want a bonus to work a little harder.”
“Oh I’m sure that’d go over well,” she says with a laugh that sends shivers through me. “They’d complain that I’m being a snob or bragging then. It’s why I was debating about just opening my own online graphic design shop, but I really like the company and the products we make.”