He kissed her shoulder and then licked it. “I’d like some more.” He raised a brow.
“Then eat.”
Byron chuckled. “No, darlin’, I mean I’d like to have more of you. This time, dipped in chocolate.”
“You want to put chocolate sauce on me?”
“Yes, how’s that sound?”
“Messy. Unsanitary.” She grimaced. Even the thought of it made her uncomfortable.
“Fine.” He peeled the blanket away from his lap. “You can lick it off me, then.” Byron folded his arms behind his head, showing off for her.
Jane allowed herself to enjoy the show. His balls were shaved, and his penis was large and thick; veins stood out on either side of it, the length of it pulsing. The pinkish-red head was pearled with a drop of come.
She bit her lower lip, and he groaned.
“No, um, I don’t think so.” This is happening too fast. I need to think about what it means, get my bearings.
“No pressure, darlin’.” He gave a self-satisfied chuckle. “I’m a man of my word—but you and me? We’re inevitable—sooner or later this is gonna happen.”
Jane didn’t contradict him. She knew they’d make love, and it’d be soon.
“But, if you don’t mind, I’m gonna finish myself off.” He grasped his cock, stroking it. His eyes were hooded, and Byron groaned with every caress. His abdominal muscles rippled as he worked his hips.
Watching Byron rub himself was unexpectedly erotic. Her sex clenched as she imagined him plunging into her, slipping inside. Her body would welcome him, spread wide for his invasion.
“What are you thinking about?” Jane was shocked to hear how low and hoarse her voice had gone.
“You.” His eyes were twin blue flames. “I imagine you stormin’ in my office, all hot and bothered about somethin’. You slap my face, and I take you against the wall—quick, dirty, and, oh, so damn good.”
Clearly, he’d fantasized about this before.
It did something for Jane too. When they argued, sparks flew between them. She supposed it was inevitable they’d caught fire, blazed to life.
Byron squeezed the head, stopping for a moment as though to catch his breath, teasing himself. Then he worked furiously, pumping harder.
“Damnation, I need to be inside you, filling you. Fuckin’ you.” Byron licked his lips, as though relishing the scenario. “You’re like velvet around me, plush and warm, surroundin’ my cock, holdin’ me tight. I’ve wanted you for months, and it’s gonna be so fuckin’ good when it finally happens.”
Jane squirmed.
Byron called her name, and with a pained grunt, he came.
Chapter Fifteen
The morning after was awkward.
Jane had woken up next to Byron wrapped in his arms. They were both still naked, and he was hard again, throbbing against her butt. Jane was torn—part of her wanted to wake him with a kiss, start where they left off.
A fling with the mobster would harm her reputation and her career. The partners didn’t mind keeping the criminal element out of jail, but bringing mobsters to the office Christmas party was a deal-breaker.
Assuming she still wanted to work at the law firm.
Speaking with Jessup yesterday had been difficult, but rewarding. It was the kind of case Jane had dreamed of taking on. Saving a man’s life meant something. For once, she experienced the passion her father had been speaking about.
When this was over, assuming she survived, Jane would reevaluate her career.
Mind made up, Jane gingerly disentangled herself from Byron and dashed to the bathroom.
After Byron woke, they had breakfast together in the Love Nest’s eatery. Everything on the menu was heart-shaped—biscuits, waffles, pancakes. All around them, couples kissed and cooed to each other, exchanging kisses between mouthfuls as they fed one another.
It was unhygienic and nauseating.
Byron was subdued, drinking coffee and eating a sausage biscuit while she ate forkfuls of pancake. Jane wanted to talk with him about what happened but had no clue how to bring it up.
“How’s the vacation, love birds?”
Jane glanced up to see Skeeter standing by their table with a tape recorder.
Oh, no.
“I’m doin’ a story on Dearest Day. I’m callin’ it Love as Big as Texas.” He spread his hands wide as though imagining the headline. “Should be front page, above the fold.”
“Yeah, right above the tractor ads,” Byron drawled.
Skeeter pushed the spectacles up his nose. “Fine, be rude, as long as you give me the scoop. Tell me your love story and I’ll be on my way.”
“Why don’t you interview one of those people?” Jane pointed to a woman licking whipped cream from her lover’s lip. If those two got any friendlier, they’d be having sex on the table.