Claiming Zoey: A Small Town Romance Page 4

  My cationic brain switches from the neurons having a positive charge to a negative one. Who the fuck does this guy think he is? “Your granddad did say you were a bit of a prick. He even suggested that I might be able to straighten you out. Having spent a few minutes with you, I realize that that is the last thing I want to do, Noah Jackson. You can shove your jet and your dinner up your ass.”

  He chuckles. Now that wasn’t the reaction I was expecting. “Oh, you’ll change your mind. Girls always do when they’re around me,” he says in that infuriatingly sexy voice of his. “Why don’t we have a beer here first and then we can leave? The party is quite lame.” He raises his hands. “But I get it; you want to get to know me better first.” He flashes that explosive smile of his again. Only this time, rather than lick his mouth, I’d rather punch it.

  “Whatever gave you the idea that I want to get to know you? The only thing is, I already do, and you were a lot nicer back then.” I turn on my heel and make to walk back to my sister and best friend who I notice have not taken their eyes off us.

  Before I join them, I stop and turn again. “I don’t know where you live, but the girls there must be as dumb as shit to fall for such a lame pick-up line. I have seen drunks at the diner do better than that. I guess good genes don’t pass a generation. The buck probably stopped with your granddad or maybe your parents. Oh, and by the way, thanks for badmouthing the party my sister, my best friend and I worked so hard on.”

  I flip around too quickly to notice the shadow that crosses his face – I never saw the brief sadness hang there for but a millisecond. My mind is in overdrive. Maybe I shouldn’t have said something about his parents. It’s all coming back to me now. His mother and father died in a car accident when Noah and Hunter were still very young, hence their granddad from the paternal side of the family raising them.

  I brush the notion aside. He is a big boy and can handle such things. If he were nicer, people wouldn’t have such slips. While I walk away, I make sure to swing my ass for extra measure. Yeah, asshole, feast your eyes on that because that it is all you’ll ever get to see of it. Your loss, Noah Dickhead Jackson.

  CHAPTER 5: NOAH

  Holly shit. That was Zoey Brooks. I remember her now. She sure as hell turned into one hell of a firecracker. I recall her as the girl with braces the size of fences. Fuck, she was a pain in the ass back then – always hanging around looking at me with doe-like eyes. But now - I would fuck her in a heartbeat, and I am going to. Judging by that body of hers, she’s going to give Crystal a run for her money. Maybe if I hire her as a flight attendant, I can have them both at the same time?

  I could bury my face in that ass of hers – it’s so tight and hard in her jeans. And damn, I love how she dresses; that look with the checkered shirt tied up into a knot above her navel is sexy as hell. I feel my cock shift in my briefs as if it wants to jump out of my pants and follow her. I clench my teeth when I see her silky long Venetian blonde hair that shimmers like a golden-red satin tassel as her ponytail swings this way and that in imitation of my dick’s antics in my pants.

  If the back of her is sexy as hell, then the front of her is something to dream about. I can still picture her face perfectly. She has bright blue eyes like the Atlantic Ocean and a pixy’s nose that tips up a little. Her cheeks are populated by a colony of the cutest little freckles I have ever seen. Top that off with full wrap around dick lips and a pink tongue that licked them occasionally, and I have just seen the hottest woman in the world.

  That’s a negative to hiring her as a flight attendant – I’d never get any work done. I want to enjoy this one for a few months. I might even go exclusive with her. GF? No fucking way. I don’t do girlfriends. How about old friends with benefits? Yeah, I could pull the childhood acquaintance card on her, and we can talk about old times, only I would be fucking her at the same time, adding some new unforgettable memories. Zoey would have a blast. It would be a chance for her to have some earthshattering orgasms and a way to get out of town from time to time.

  Me, I get to have sex with the hottest woman alive. The thought stops my mind in its tracks. I love her face and body, but that was not what truly got me; no, it was her voice that lured me in like the Venus flytrap would an insect with its color. It sounded like music and reminded me of something. I have a great ear for melody. I just can’t place it yet. I have heard it someplace before. Anyway, its cadence sure had my cock swelling until I had a raging hard-on. Why does that keep happening to me here in Fall Creek?

  To be frank, I have never met a woman quite like Zoey before. She is feisty and doesn’t give a shit about jets and steak dinners in New York – wow, that’s a first. Usually, I would be fucking her in the broom closet just about now before the flight, upon which she would be sucking my dick like a lollypop. But not Zoey. I worry for a heartbeat that I might have fucked it up with her. Not so fast sweet thing, I will have you yet.

  I watch her get back to some other girls I recognize as Savannah and Zoey’s sister. They too are pretty easy on the eye. However, Zoey outshines them like the sun in the solar system does the other planets. Damn, she’s hot. But she looks pretty pissed off. Does she not know who I am? Hell, my face is plastered all over the Internet. I am famous. Even the people in Fall Creek must know that.

  How she spoke to me and brushed me off jarred the living shit out of me. No one refuses Noah Jackson – it’s just never happened before. If my looks and easy way don’t get them, then the mention of my name usually does. If that doesn’t do the trick, my vast fortune does.

  Instead, this woman berated me, scolded me and put me in my place. My base instincts shout at me that Zoey ‘her royal hotness’ Brooks needs a good fucking and I am just the guy to give it to her. I think a moment, playing out my next move in my mind. A smile creases across my lips. I need to win this and I will. This is only the start of the game. Before she knows it, I will have her purring in my lap, begging to suck my cock.

  Zoey is still looking at me from across the room. The woman with black hair standing next to her is giving me the eye. She’s cute, but she doesn’t have the same effect Zoey has on my cock. My gaze again rests on Zoey. She stares back at me for a moment but soon looks away. I grin. I love women. No, I love to fuck women and to see them come apart because of my cock’s expert ministrations. I go for any kind from blondes, brunettes, redheads to dark-haired. It doesn’t really matter as long as they are hot and willing.

  And Zoey Brooks is definitely high on the fuckable list. I was certain that a small indication of my fortune and a smile here and there would have spread those sexy legs of hers at the very latest on my private plane. Somehow, I didn’t account for Zoey Brooks’s. Her obduracy makes her even hotter. To be Frank, I haven’t seen such natural beauty in a woman in my life, and trust me I am an expert on women. How the hell can a simple small town gal refuse Noah Jackson?

  “What’s up with ya, Kid. Your smarmy big city pickup lines not work with our fine Fall Creek girls.” Grandpa hacks out a laugh. “I should’ve given you a heads up about her, but I somehow thought you would ace it.” He shrugs. “I guess she’s just too good for ya, eh.”

  “Here have a beer, Boss. It might cheer you up,” says Glyn, grinning.

  I accept the bottle and take a large slug all the while watching the sexy redhead across the living room. She is talking to some older people whom I recognize as her parents. It appears they want her to do something because they keep pointing to the center of the room.

  “Ya want me to give you some pointers in the fine art of wooing women?” asks granddad. “You sure as hell are shit at it. Had more quif than Jack Nicholson, my ass. I bet you’re more of a ‘Master Bater’ that thinks he’s a Romeo while he strokes his pole alone and in the confines of his room.” He hoots laughter, inducing Glyn to join in.

  “I think I will decline that kind offer, grandpa,” I say, shaking my head. What the hell has gotten into my grandfather? Has he been taking courses in how to be funny? The guy’
s literally been cracking jokes all day.

  “Your loss. Zoey is a good girl. She won’t fall for your usual shit. I can’t believe I actually thought that the two of you would have made a nice couple. You are too much of a prick, and she’s far too good for you.”

  I sneer at my grandfather. When his face lights up, I look back in the direction where I last saw Zoey standing. She has a guitar in her hands. I frown. The girl is a singer? She smiles timidly as her father steps beside her.

  “My daughter would like to sing her newest song for us,” he announces proudly. “Give a hand for Zoey.”

  A raucous applause breaks out. I look to my left. Granddad is the most enthusiastic of the bunch. He leans into me. “Now, you get to hear some real talent, Kid. Not that shit you peddle back in New York. Zoey’s the best.”

  I scowl at him. “Let me be the judge of that,” I say, causing granddad to snigger.

  “You couldn’t find real talent if it bit you in the ass.”

  I don’t get to answer because Zoey starts singing. Holly fuck. Her voice draws me in like the enchanting sound the nymphs made when they attempted to lure in Odysseus when he was on board his ship. It’s the song I heard in the limo. That’s why her voice sounded familiar to me before. If only I had recognized her face, she would be still talking to me.

  ‘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.’

  She looks so sexy as she strums her guitar. I am completely fascinated by the sight of her. Zoey looks innocent, almost angelic. At that moment, I wish I could get closer to her and touch her. I would glide my hands all over her body, feeling those perfectly shaped breasts of hers. I swear they’d fit in the palms of my hands as if they were crafted for them.

  Our gazes lock. This time she doesn’t look away. She holds my stare, never once wavering. Fuck, she’s confident. Her fingers are still gliding over the strings of her guitar, emitting a perfect tune. Her singing voice draws me in like magic. She strums again, more forcefully this time. I watch her mouth as it moves. The expression on her face is one of complete harmony and the passion she feels for her music.

  For the first time in my life, I catch myself thinking that I could spend more time with a woman without getting bored. It’s crazy, and I know it because I don’t even know her really. Yet, there is something there that I have never before encountered. I feel drawn to Zoey in a way that feels like it was always meant to be. It is as if my entire previous life was some sort of preparation for this encounter with her. My granddad’s phone call got me here; maybe this is the reason why?

  My grandfather going into overdrive with applause rouses me out of my almost dreamlike state. Zoey just finished her song. A sense of loss rushes over me as if something precious was taken away. She looks so cute with the red tint on her cheeks that almost matches the color of her hair as she blushes.

  I have the unrelenting urge to go to her and ask her if we can start over fresh. I realize that I made a complete mess of our little talk before. Somehow, I need Zoey to realize that I am not the arrogant prick she thinks I am. She looked so excited to see me. I just totally misread that signal as hero-worship I have become accustomed to from the many women I have had sex with. In Zoey’s case, she was just genuinely happy to see me again and nothing more. I need more; I need all of her and right now.

  Was there an attraction on her part or was it all me? I swear I remember seeing Zoey scoping me out before her sister shoved her in my direction. I am on her mind. I am certain of it. She showered me with the same intense looks as I did her. My exterior already won me half the battle; now, I have to make her like me – the real Noah Jackson.

  “Look whom the cat dragged in,” says a voice I haven’t heard in ages.

  “Hunter.”

  “Yeah, your big brother lives here remember. What brings you back, Noah?” Hunter raises his hands. “No, don’t bother; I couldn’t give a shit.”

  “Hunter, shut your mouth. We’re not doing this now,” says granddad.

  “Don’t worry, Grandpa. I will leave.” My gaze fixes on Hunter. “Great seeing you again, brother.” I turn and exit the house without another word. I know if I stay, we might end up fighting and I don’t want that. In business, the smarter party always knows when to fight his battles. And in this case, you definitely don’t have one when the women you like is in the same room, and it’s her parents’ anniversary party.

  Ruining that would really make her hate me, and there would be no turning back from that. I also leave because I need time to figure out what is going on with me. Usually, I would’ve stuck around to finish the fight that was in the making. Not tonight. An angel just rocked my world, and that never happened to me before.

  CHAPTER 6: ZOEY

  He was so cool and confident, but at the same time, he was so unbearably obnoxious. The way he blatantly tried to hit on me was so full on, and it did not suit him at all. I am still having trouble believing that that shit works on women in New York or wherever else he lives. Do women like that kind of stuff in big cities? “Hey, let’s get outta here and go to New York on my jet; I’ll take ya out for a steak dinner. This party is so lame.”

  I prance about in imitation of the great Noah Dickhead Jackson. I pull a few more of his signature dick ass lines as I dance around the living room, inducing Kaylee and Savannah into hysterical frenzies of laughter.

  “Come on, guys! Who behaves like that? We certainly don’t have any people like that here in Fall Creek – thank God,” I say, picking up a plate and stacking it on some others nearby. Savannah, Kaylee and I are cleaning up after the party. My parents have already gone off to bed. The girls and I are sharing a bottle of sparkling wine while we do the final chores of the day.

  “You have all the luck, Zoey. First, you have DJ Zac trying to win back your heart with romantic invitations to your place of work where you should cook him his dinner – ‘that’d be like so romantic, Honey-buns’…” We all laugh at that. “And now, you have this New York wanna be big shot guy going all ape on you. I am sorry. I guess I hoped that he was more like Hunter,” says Kaylee.

  “It’s okay. You couldn’t have known what kind of man he has become;” I say.

  Yet, no matter how much I try to badmouth him in my mind or out loud, I can’t help but feel drawn to Noah. How that is even possible is beyond me. But there is something about Noah Jackson that intrigues me and makes me want to break all the rules. It somehow makes me want to do what he tells me to do, and that is so not like me. The only people who can partly tell me what to do are my girls, Kaylee and Savannah, and that’s like once every half-year - and my parents every lunar eclipse.

  I really got the chance to study him while I sang. His cool, cocky manner and the way his sexy light brown waves of hair tumbled down his neck in a mess, that for me was perfection, enchanted me. For once, his mouth was shut, and I could focus all of my attention on his face.

  It was kind – gone was the supercilious veneer he displayed during our chat. It was impossible to make out that spark of warmth and kindness at first because of all of the conceited bullshit he spewed from his mouth when he spoke. Along with the melody of my song, Noah was no longer Noah Dickhead Jackson but Noah Prince Jackson. He had looked at me as if he was in awe of me. I felt so special under his caressing gaze that lifted me up and made my voice more powerful than ever before. I frown. I am certain something is there between us; but what?

  “You call the guy a wanna be big shot…I don’t think so. I would’ve taken him up on his offer for a steak dinner in a heartbeat…take a look at this – the man’s a billionaire and a superstar,” says Savannah, holding out her smartphone with a trembling arm.

  “Holly shit…is that…” Kaylee’s voice veers off into silence as her eyes fix onto the device’s screen.

  “Yep, that’s Noah Jack
son,” says Savannah as if she is his best friend. “Pretty cool, huh?”

  “That can’t be him with Beyoncé?” I blurt, nearly dropping a plate I just picked up. “It says here that he hosted a party for her and Jay Z at his New York penthouse. Who is this man?”

  “He’s a music producer…” This time it’s Kylee reading the accompanying text to the article on the screen.

  I gulp. I almost feel my heart drop a hundred feet in free fall. Noah Dickhead Jackson is a music producer. James Jackson you crafty old bastard. Now, I know why you said you had connections in the business. How was I to know that your grandson is…what does it say here…Noah Jackson, the owner of Butterbeat Records, will soon become a self-made billionaire. If the performance of his artists continues, the orphan record mogul will soon hit the billionaire jackpot.

  “Billionaire,” spits Kaylee.

  “Billionaire,” exhales Savannah. “This is incredible,” she turns to me with one of her archetypical mock serious expressions on her face, “next time that man asks you out on a steak dinner date, you damn well go. You have sex with him, and you offer him your body in order for him to plant his seed inside you. You make babies with this man, you hear. And after that, you think of me, your dear sweet friend Savannah, and hook me up with one of his acquaintances…you got that?”

  This is too much. Kaylee and I burst out laughing. “Where do you get that shit from, Savannah? So that he can plant his seed – that’s hilarious,” I say between whistling teeth.

  Savannah is deadly serious. “If you think that’s impressive, look here,” she continues, almost ramming her phone in my face.

  “Oh, come on, Brad Pitt…really!” scream both my sister and I.

  “Yep, and all of these other people here too…” Savannah’s fingers act like those belonging to an expert secretary as they skim over the screen in quick-fire fashion. The information available on Noah is endless.