Claiming Zoey: A Small Town Romance Read online

  Table of Contents

  CHAPTER 1: NOAH

  CHAPTER 2: ZOEY

  CHAPTER 3: NOAH

  CHAPTER 4: ZOEY

  CHAPTER 5: NOAH

  CHAPTER 6: ZOEY

  CHAPTER 7: NOAH

  CHAPTER 8: ZOEY

  CHAPTER 9: NOAH

  CHAPTER 10: ZOEY

  CHAPTER 11: NOAH

  CHAPTER 12: ZOEY

  CHAPTER 13: NOAH

  CHAPTER 14: ZOEY

  CHAPTER 15: NOAH

  CHAPTER 16: ZOEY

  CHAPTER 17: NOAH

  CHAPTER 18: ZOEY

  CHAPTER 19: NOAH

  CHAPTER 20: ZOEY

  THANK YOU NOTE TO MY READERS

  ABOUT J.B. BAKER

  OTHER TITLE’S BY J.B.BAKER

  Claiming Zoey

  TABLES OF CONTENTS

  CHAPTER 1: NOAH

  CHAPTER 2: ZOEY

  CHAPTER 3: NOAH

  CHAPTER 4: ZOEY

  CHAPTER 5: NOAH

  CHAPTER 6: ZOEY

  CHAPTER 7: NOAH

  CHAPTER 8: ZOEY

  CHAPTER 9: NOAH

  CHAPTER 10: ZOEY

  CHAPTER 11: NOAH

  CHAPTER 12: ZOEY

  CHAPTER 13: NOAH

  CHAPTER 14: ZOEY

  CHAPTER 15: NOAH

  CHAPTER 16: ZOEY

  CHAPTER 17: NOAH

  CHAPTER 18: ZOEY

  CHAPTER 19: NOAH

  CHAPTER 20: ZOEY

  THANK YOU NOTE TO MY READERS

  ABOUT J.B. BAKER

  OTHER TITLE’S BY J.B.BAKER

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  Other Title’s By J.B.Baker

  BREAKING POINT

  Book Description

  This should be easy.

  Fly into my hometown Fall Creek, attend the party my grandfather was invited to,

  Then fly back to my hunting ground, New York!

  Well at least I thought it would be that easy.

  That is until I see her,

  Zoey Brooks

  She wasn't expecting to see me either.

  The once annoying teenager has turned into a full woman.

  Curves, Hips, Toned Body and Venetian blonde hair.

  A few years ago I didn’t even set eyes on her.

  I was heartbroken by her sister, and well now

  The mere sight of her makes my inner beast growl, yet she’s having nothing to do with my macho ways.

  That is until we kiss

  I need to make this goddess of a woman mine.

  Claiming Zoey soon becomes my only sultry sin!

  CHAPTER 1: NOAH

  The droning hum of an airplane's turbines gets me every time. It has something decidedly sexy and adventurous about it. Especially if the plane you’re flying on is yours, it just gives you that added kick. The sensation never bores me no matter how often I fly and that is like crazy much. I guess it’s something that just comes with the job.

  A smile populates my face – this is the life, I think. With a little whistle, I pull on my trouser zipper, inducing that tight grating noise, and look at my reflection in the mirror inside the executive bathroom in the rear of my plane. I love what I see. At thirty-two years of age, I am still young but at the same time old enough to be the owner of one of the world’s leading pop-dance labels. My look echoes my occupation – longish, wavy dark-blond hair that is currently tied up on the top of my head in a sort of European soccer star look. A dark grey long-sleeved t-shirt, slacks and a pair of designer trainers round off my appearance.

  “Ya look great, Noah.”

  My head swivels in the direction of the ingratiating voice that has that uber-sexy American girl twang to it that is so impossible to describe. I guess if I had to put it into one word, I would say, ‘bonerizing.’

  “Thanks…ya ain’t too bad yourself,” I say, nearly salivating at the sight of her pert breasts and the excruciatingly enticing Venus of the delta that is so delicately packed underneath her white lace panties like a tight little gift just for me. At that moment, I could fuck her like crazy. No, dude, it’s time to get some work done before we touchdown. I hate my sense of duty sometimes. I take one look at her tits again, my resolves wavers. Another look lower at that tight mound, fuck I can imagine it sucking me in – all of me to the hilt. A small wiggle of her full lips and I am nearly a goner.

  “You look like you could do with another ‘round,” she says, biting down on her lower lip and twirling a finger in that oh so delicious silky mane of blonde hair of hers. I can see that she is reading my mind. The vixen is toying with me. I need to go; I need to go. Money doesn’t grow on trees; that’s what my grandpa always told me. She continues talking her sexy talk while I remain where I am, drooling.

  Argh, that megawatt lilt of hers, that cadence of desire that pulses all the way down to the unruly inhabitant within my fucking boxers, I love it, and I need it. I am so addicted to girl’s sexy voices. They lure me in like the ‘Dionaea muscipula,’ the Venus flytrap, a carnivorous plant. I take another moment, barely a millisecond really, to consider her offer. “No, sugar, I ain’t got the time. Duty calls.”

  With those words, I exit the restroom and walk down the length of my Gulfstream G650 jet. The sight of the interior never bores me. Tasteful cream-colored leather seats line the side of the fuselage that is partly covered with a mahogany finish. This flying penthouse is the crème de la crème in private aviation. It takes me wherever I need to go at a speed of Mach 0.925. I just love it.

  “Hey Glyn, how’s it hanging.”

  My personal assistant who insists on being called my executive assistant blinks back at me with that signature ‘you are an insanely-over-sexed-macho-hetero-ape’ look of his. At this point, I guess, I need to mention that my Afro-American executive assistant is gay. And the smartest man I know, my only friend and I couldn’t live without the man. Ergo, I have to put up with his shit whenever he disapproves of my actions.

  “You didn’t,” Glyn rolls his eyes in that irritating way only he can, “this has to stop, Noah. I mean really, it has to stop. It’s so Neanderthal; no, that would be an insult to Neanderthals. In the last documentary I saw on the History Channel, it was claimed they cared for their females.”

  I raise my hands up. “Oh, come on. I am the boss; I can do whatever I like.”

  Glyn looks at me fiercely. “I have been waiting for the better part of half an hour to get a glass of Aqua Amora from the flight attendant…yeah, the one whose body you have been violating for no good reason other than that you have primal urges that are…” he rolls his eyes theatrically, “the most prodigious I have ever encountered in my life. I am parched, so damn thirsty, and I need a drink badly.”

  I let off a throaty laugh. “Why don’t you get your drink yourself or would that be too overtaxing?”

  “Duh, I wouldn’t want to violate Crystal’s workspace. I respect her too much for that. Such a lovely young woman. It’s just a shame she bumped into you.”

  “Yeah, we sure did some bumping into one another. But hey, I gave her a great job,” I say with my hands still held up in defense and a huge smile of reminiscence on my face.

  “Yeah, right. Great job my ass.”

  Anyway, you still drinking that ridiculously expensive water of yours. How much does it cost?”

  “Thirty-seven Dollars per 750ml bottle, if you must know,” says Glyn, inspecting his nails casually.

&n
bsp; “Yeah, I must know; I pay for the stuff; I really don’t know why I put up with you. Your drinking habits are worse than those of some raging alcoholic. I’ve seen you drink up to four bottles of that stuff a day.”

  “I have to stay hydrated. You should try it some time. You need it more than I do with the amount of fluids you eject.”

  I chuckle. “Wouldn’t Evian or even tap water do the trick?”

  “Oh, God no. You are so cheap for an almost billionaire.” He sneers at me. The action makes his narrow face appear narrower still, and his high forehead seems to become longer.

  “I am a billionaire.”

  “Not yet you aren’t. You’re a poor millionaire who hasn’t quite made it yet.” He gives off his little laugh that I find so irritating. “That’s what happens to stingy people. They never cross the threshold into the exalted billionaire stratosphere.” He knows I hate it when he needles me about the fact that I am about fifty million Dollars shy of the big $B.

  “Why do you keep saying that I am cheap?”

  Glyn’s eyes narrow. “I am just teasing you. You know how much I like to do that.” He swivels in his seat. “What did you do to the poor girl…impale her? She’s taking ages, and I need my Aqua Amora.”

  “You know women; they need time in front of the mirror.” I chuckle. “Kinda reminds me of someone else who will remain anonymous.”

  Glyn doesn’t react to the remark. Instead, he frets some more about his state of hydration and the toll it’s having on his exquisitely smooth onyx-colored skin. He glides his hands over his cheeks to make his point.

  “Nobody pays so much for a bottle of water,” I say, exasperated. “I just can’t get why anybody would need that stuff.”

  “Only half of Beverly Hills and nearly all of Manhattan; you are so démodé, Noah,” says Glyn, rolling his eyes as if he considers me some sort of troglodyte that drinks swill from a trough. “Good things cost money…you have this plane, and I have my water harvested from icebergs off the coasts of Newfoundland and Labrador. It is free from all human pollution and just what I need.”

  I am speechless. I literally have nothing to say anymore. My conversations with Glyn always end up like this: he wins. No one beats me when I negotiate my record deals with new talent and other business stuff, but when it comes to life and lifestyle Glyn is unbeatable. He is also the best damn coordinator and A&R man I know. He is the reason none of my talent goes anywhere else – they just love the guy.

  “I feel so sorry for that poor woman. She must feel so used by you. You are a misogynist pig, Noah,” he says, making to get to his feet, “I must go and see if you haven’t hurt her.”

  “I never would do that.”

  Glyn huffs. “I don’t mean deliberately. You are such an animal with your strong, and I must add perfectly toned physique. You could kill a slim girl like that with your eager thrusts.”

  “Is that you asking me out on a date,” I say with a twinkle in my eye.

  “Argh, perish the thought…I have two rules in life: never fuck the boss and avoid egocentric males that think they are God’s gift to both men and women.” He jiggles his shoulders. “You do know that the men with the ‘God complex’ are generally heterosexual.”

  “Hey, sugar-tits.”

  “My point exactly,” says Glyn, shaking his head in disgust.

  Crystal, the sexiest flight attendant in the world, glides past our seats from the direction of the bathroom. Damn, I should’ve fucked her after that incredible blowjob she just gave me ten minutes ago. My eyes are on beanstalks. Fuck me, that ass of hers always gets me hard. I have seen Crystal naked in probably every position possible, and trust me that’s a lot since we met at the Bellagio Hotel in Las Vegas a few weeks ago. The girl is Viagra on legs.

  I hired her on the spot after our first night together. It was the closest I could offer her to girlfriend status; I don’t do girlfriends, never have. I even hate to use the word GF or even thinking about it; it’s just so demeaning to both guys and girls if you come to think about it. I always see it as two people being together with all of the crap of life and with none of the fun stuff – yep, you read me right: sex shrivels up like a limp dick in relationships.

  Glyn would disagree of course. He’s been in a relationship with his boyfriend, Serge, for four years and they plan to get married. I always think it’s easier for men because they think alike and are always generally horny. Glyn put me straight on that one too. He said I was full of shit and that I have commitment issues. He also claimed that if I was gay that no decent man would look at me twice.

  “Poor dear, she can hardly walk,” hisses Glyn, studying Crystal carefully.

  “We didn’t do that,” I say.

  He thinks a moment. “Argh, Noah, really. You made her do that to you on a plane. I really need my water now to rinse my mouth.”

  I grin. “It’s called the ‘fellatio-mile-high-club.’”

  “Mr. Jackson, we will be landing shortly at Burlington International Airport,” announces the captain over the airplane tannoy.

  “We got no work done because of you talking about your special water all of the time,” I say.

  “Uh-uh, we spent four minutes discussing what a pig you are and possibly eight about the water and hydration issues while you spent a half an hour having your dick sucked off by a poor defenseless woman.”

  ****

  “She is not defenseless, Glyn.”

  I can’t believe we are still talking about this shit in the limo on the way from the airport to Fall Creek. I am on my way home after more than fifteen years. In a way, I feel a little nervous about it. So much has happened in my life since then and most probably nothing has changed in Fall Creek in all that time. I actually have no time for this trip, but I need to go. I have to see him, my granddad, again.

  “Haven’t you been listening to a word I have been saying?”

  There it is, Glyn’s incessant nattering again. I somehow clocked off with the last barrage of insults and resigned myself to the magnificent countryside in the state of Vermont. The lay of the land is crisscrossed with small idyllic towns with colorful buildings surrounded by lush green fields. I have forgotten just how magnificent it is here. I sure was lucky to have had a childhood in such surroundings despite the sad circumstances that walled it.

  I live in New York City now. It’s where my business is. Most record labels set up shop in LA, but that was never for me. There’s something vibrant about the Big Apple that I could never leave behind. Like a magnet, it kept me there until this day. Sure, I travelled, but I always looked forward to returning to my city.

  I barely hear Glyn going through the numbers of our most recent hits. In the background, I hear the song ‘Coping’ by Tony Braxton playing on the radio. I close my eyes and release myself to the rhythm. I have always liked these kind of jams.

  In moments, Glyn moves on to one of our prospective new acts (he is so damn efficient). I scarcely hear him say that she (the potential artist for a contract) is very talented and that she has that sexy pop star look about her. He is adamant that she could become a true star with the right promotion

  I grin; I should have cut him off right there and then. I fucked her on my desk in my office the other day during and after our first interview and never answered her calls after that; it doesn’t really matter now. I guess she won’t be signing on with my label, Butter Beat Records, anytime soon – oops.

  All of a sudden my interest is piqued. My eyes snap open. I can hear the most exquisite song playing in the background. I look to the front of the limo as if I need to see its source. I smile. This is not bad. I relax and listen.

  ‘She walks in beauty, like the night…under cloudless climes and starry skies…oh, God, please take me home…guitarmelody kicks in…I saw her aspect in her eyes…it was heaven on earth to the gaudy day that brought me back to where she lay.’

  The song is cheesy as hell in that typical country music drawl. But the voice belonging to the woman
singing it is as sweet as a nightingale’s, pure magic and sexy in such a way that I can feel it on my skin. Impulsively, I feel my cock harden in my pants. That never happened to me because of a song before. I feel as if the woman singing the song is singing it just for me. All there is is that song and that voice.

  The lyrics and that sweet trill serenade me until I see the sign ‘Fall Creek, pop1200, founded 1747’. I remain lost in the melody until the graveled husking sound of the DJ’s voice intervenes in a tone that betrays too much alcohol consumption. My eyes that had inadvertently shut snap open again – Zoey Brooks; did the DJ just say that name? I used to know a Zoey Brooks a long time ago.

  I turn to face Glyn who is studying me with a curious expression on his face. “We gonna sign that girl up that just sang or what? You let your cock make all of the other decisions in the rest of your life. You might as well not stop now. That girl sure got one hell of a reaction out of you.” He indicates with his hand to my lower body.

  I slowly look down to see that I am still hard as hell. My head snaps back up, and I look at Glyn.

  “I suggest you put that thing on ice before we meet your grandfather,” he says, shaking his head and returning his attention to the tablet on his lap.

  I rumble a soft chuckle. Wait until you meet the guy. But the thought does not linger. In seconds and for the rest of the way to my granddad’s place I think of the mystery woman that captured me with her voice.

  CHAPTER 2: ZOEY

  I cringe when I hear DJ Zac on the radio. Hearing his voice always does that to me. Every day, he announces the same song with that ridiculous flourish of his that I have come to detest. I know he does it to impress me. Ever since we broke up three years ago because I refused his marriage proposal, he has become more and more persistent with his advances. I don’t know what I ever saw in the guy. He’s kind of creepy.

  Once I found him lurking outside of my parents’ house. It’s where I still live above the garage in a separate studio. Another time, DJ Zac cornered me after work at the diner when I was closing up. The nerve of the guy - he actually suggested I open up the place again and make him something to eat. He said it’d be all romantic and stuff…argh, I could imagine nothing worse. There were other things too that I try not to think about, but they all have the same weird panache about them.