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The question is, where?
Chapter thirty-seven
Clover
Christmas Day
Yesterday was, quite possibly, the most romantic day of my life.
With Harrison’s bullshit no longer hanging over our heads, Joar and I make the most of the time we spend together. It feels like a rebirth of our relationship, at least to me. For most of last year, my life was in turmoil. So many changes to get used to.
I’m not sure I fully comprehended how much I love Joar until I was truly free.
While we haven’t been able to spend a ton of time together lately, this trip to NYC more than makes up for it. I’ll take Joar Jacoby any way I can have him.
I can’t complain. I’m super busy myself. Next year my life will be crazier. We start filming next season in a couple months. I gave in and signed with Isis, and suddenly I’m up for two leading roles in rom coms and one in a thriller, all which film next year. Every major magazine wants to put me on their cover, so I’m constantly booked for photo shoots and interviews.
We’re trying to coordinate our schedules, which is getting harder now that my own career is picking up.
If things go as planned, Joar will be in Seattle while I’m filming, which makes it much easier for him to pop up to Vancouver BC when he’s working on that deal. He’s invited me to Dublin and Sao Paulo, but I can’t make any promises yet.
In between, it looks like we’ll be bi-coastal.
The thing is, every time we say goodbye it hurts.
I’m not going to think about leaving, though. We have two entire weeks together and my goal is to do something sweet for the man who rocks my world.
“Do I smell cookies?” Joar shuffles into the kitchen wearing only boxer briefs and a boner. He wraps his arms around me. Kisses my cheek. Bites my earlobe.
The counter is filled with two batches of sugar cookies. Chocolate chip are in the oven. “What’s Christmas without cookies?”
“I wouldn’t know.” His eyes twinkle before he snatches a treat and takes a bite of sugary, buttery goodness. “Mmmm.”
Over the past few months as we’ve shared more details with each other about how we grew up, we’ve realized our childhoods were similar—both of us were forced to fend for ourselves.
My folks saw me as a meal ticket. It’s been years since we’ve spoken, maybe a handful of times since I emancipated at sixteen.
Joar never knew his father. When his mom went to jail for drug trafficking, he was placed in the system as an infant and bounced in between foster care homes the rest of his life.
As adults, we took opposite approaches to cope. He doesn’t rely on anyone but himself—except for Seth, who is the son of his favorite foster parent. Unfortunately, in early adulthood I was shaped by the seedy entertainment industry and relied on powerful men to, essentially, take care of me. Until I left Harrison, I don’t think I realized I was being exploited the entire time.
I think that’s why my career is so important to me now. It’s on my own terms. I’m in control. It feels good to take charge of my own life.
“You’re lost in thought, sweetness.” Joar’s on his second cookie. He watches me as the wheels turn in my head.
The timer dings. “Yeah, I think I’m reflecting a bit.” I take out the gooey batch and put the next two sheets in.
“Are we going to eat all of these cookies?” Joar pats his belly. “You’re making enough for an army.”
I throw a dish towel at him. “Not today. We’ll put some in the freezer so we have them while I’m here. Come January, I’ll be on a strict diet and workout regimen.”
“You don’t need it. You’re perfect as you are.” He steps toward me and wraps me in his arms. Cups my breast. Kisses me.
His palms span my hips and he lifts me onto the counter. I’m wearing one of his T-shirts and a thong. He steps between my legs. “JJ…” I moan when he presses his erection against my pussy.
“You’re always wet for me.” His fingers pull my panties to the side. He shoves his boxers down and drags his tip along my opening. Taps my clit.
I pull off the T-shirt, clutch his shoulders and watch him feed his cock into me. “Only for you,“ I clarify.
