“You should have seen the look on your face,” Jett said while pointing at me. “Oh, that was fucking priceless.”

“If I would have known bodily fluids were in play, I would have opened up with Jett just blew up the port-a-potty and gave himself a ten out of ten on the shit scale.”

“Too slow, gorgeous,” he continued to laugh.

“Laugh it up, pretty boy. Have fun holding onto a stiff body tonight.”

“I will enjoy every second of it,” Jett said, while grabbing my hand and bringing it to his lips.

“Ugh, that wasn’t fair,” I complained.

“How so?”

“Because I lost,” I whined, making him laugh again.

“Well, if you’re a good girl today, maybe I will let you drive the Aston, but I make no promises.”

“And what qualifies me as a good girl?” I asked with a suspicious tone. The man knew exactly what he was doing.

Shrugging his shoulders, he led us over to a table where we would be testing the different bowls of gumbo, and said, “I don’t know. Maybe a kiss here and there; if your hand so happens to land on my crotch, then I wouldn’t be opposed to something like that either.”

“You’re incorrigible, you know that? I’m not about to grab your crotch in public.”

“Then the port-a-potty? It seemed like you were having some kind of fantasy about it back at Diego’s place.”

“Eck, don’t be disgusting, that was not a fantasy and no, I won’t be kissing you. Nice try though. Remember, I’m still mad at you.”

“That’s right,” he smirked, as he pulled out my seat for me and helped me into my chair. “How much longer are you going to be mad at me again?”

“As long as I want,” I replied like a child, while crossing my arms over my chest, making my cleavage stand out.

Jett’s lingering gaze on my chest caused a slow throb to grow at the juncture of my damn thighs. Slowly, I watched as he licked his lips and ran his eyes up my chest until he was staring into my eyes. His heated gaze ate me alive and I wasn’t sure if I would make it through the contest without jumping his bones in front of everyone at the festival. If the mayor thought he was uncomfortable with all of the sharting talk, then he was in for a rude awakening, because me riding Jett like a mechanical bull in front of the gathering crowd, tits flopping about, was going to absolutely mortify him.

“Mr. Colby?” A voice from the side pulled us out of our heated ogling.

With a lazy smile on his face, Jett retreated from our stand down and greeted the man trying to get our attention.

My mind didn’t follow anything they were saying, as visions of Jett in the Bourbon Room overtook every last thought in my mind. Me, bent over in the bathroom, staring at myself in the mirror as he ate me out from underneath, me strapped to the beam, hanging upside down, me on the velvet table, being plunged by Jett until I couldn’t take it anymore.

Oh my fuck was I randy and more than willing to be taken by the Demonic Devil himself, as I’d so properly named him.

I couldn’t though; I couldn’t fall into the same old pattern. I had to stay strong. I would stay strong.

At least, that’s what I tried convincing myself.

“Thank you,” Jett said, as he sat down next to me. “Did you hear any of that?”

“No,” I said sheepishly.

“I didn’t think so, I could practically feel your tongue licking the zipper of my pants.”

“Nuh-uh,” I defended myself…so eloquently.

“Little One, you act as if I can’t feel your gaze on me, as if I can’t read what’s going on in that pretty little mind of yours.”

“Oh, really? Well, please enlighten me, what was I thinking?”

“How you want to be with me, how you want me to take you, but you’re holding out, you’re being strong because you’re not ready to fall back into the world we were living in.”

Damn it! Exasperating man!

“You are so wrong,” I shook my head and laughed at him, as I tried to pull off that what he just told me wasn’t spot on. “I was actually thinking about how those shorts were very unflattering on you.”

He looked down at his shorts and then back up at me. “Lying is not the least bit flattering on you,” he called me out while he pinched my chin. “But, you’re still adorable. Now, are you ready for this?”

Trying not to get irritated with how confident he was, I nodded and looked around as people started to enter the tent for the judging. The other judges took their seats as well, lining the long table on stage. The mayor sat as far away from us as possible; I didn’t blame the man, he most likely didn’t want to fall victim to my “irritable bowel.”

Fucking Jett Colby.

“How does this work? And is it really vegan gumbo?”

“It is. The festival wanted to try something new and embrace the new food lifestyle.”

“But what is gumbo without sausage? I don’t understand how that can even be something.”

“Have an open mind; you never know, you might like it.”

“Yeah, okay. You’re so buying me real gumbo after this,” I said, while poking his rock hard chest. Stupid Kace and his workouts that made Jett all strong and man like. It’s like they were working together to take down every woman in New Orleans.

“Anything you want, Little One. Now, there will be five bowls that we will try, and all you have to do is write down your favorites in order. The scores will be tallied at the end, and then they will crown the winner. Simple.”

“Except for the fact that we’re eating vegan gumbo.”

“Would you have still come if I told you it was vegan gumbo?” he asked.

“No,” I lied.

Shaking his head, he replied, “Lying will get you in trouble, Little One.”

“Yeah? What are you going to do about it? It’s not like you can take away my orgasms,” I spoke softly, lighting up the heat in Jett’s eyes. Damn it, that look easily started to tear down the walls I put up around my vagina so she wouldn’t get confused.

Jett was about to answer when the MC for the contest lit up the speakers and started warming up the crowd. The moment between us was lost, as we both turned in our seats to face the crowd. Onlookers gazed at me as I looked down at them from my perch up on the stage. It was interesting to me that so many people cared about a vegan cook off. Maybe there was more to the cuisine than I realized.

As I scanned the crowd for a familiar face, a warm hand gently found its way to my thigh. Not going too high, Jett gently rubbed my skin with the pad of his thumb, turning me into a pile of mush in my seat.

“What are you doing?” I asked from the side of my mouth.

“Touching my girlfriend,” Jett answered without skipping a beat.

“You keep saying girlfriend, but I don’t remember giving you back that title.”

“Deny it all you want, Little One, but you’re mine and you know it, so a little title shouldn’t bother you one bit.”

“Your hand on my thigh is bothering me.”

“No, it’s not,” Jett whispered in my ear, sending chills down my entire body.

I turned to him and smiled brightly as I moved my hand to his crotch and grabbed ahold of his package. Two could play at this game.

Luckily, there was a cloth hanging over the table, so no one could see what we were doing underneath it.

Ready to see the taken aback expression on his face, I looked up and was greeted with a shit-eating grin.

“A little to the left,” he winked at me.

“Gah, you’re annoying,” I replied, while removing my hand and turning away from him.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see his chest rise and fall from the silent chuckling he was doing. Never did I think Jett would have the joking personality of Diego, or the ability to infuriate me like Kace. It was like all the men in my life came together and morphed into one mega man to drive me bat shit crazy and make me horny as hell.

For the rest of the contest, I ignored the piercing hand of Jett Colby, burning through my skin as I tried all different types of vegan gumbo.