“I know…what, exactly?”
“I could use my mouth, like you did,” I tell him, fighting down my blush and failing. He studies me, his smile slowly fading. He walks towards me, his dick bouncing with each step. I try not to get lost in staring at it, but again…I fail.
“Have you done that before, Bree?”
“Done what?” I ask, still hypnotized by his cock. I’ve seen a few before. I mean it’s the age of the internet. I’ve never seen one in person though, and even if I had, I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t measure up to Jax.
“Have you ever sucked a man off?” he growls, and I must have been really concentrating on his dick. So much that I didn’t realize it was getting closer and closer. When he grabs the back of my hair and pulls my eyes up to his, I know, however. Gone is the easy look and smile on his face. Now, he looks vitally alive, electric even.
“What’s wrong?” I ask confused, not sure why he seems…angry.
“Have those sweet cherry lips of yours been wrapped around another man’s cock before?” his voice is so deep and the words practically rip from his throat.
“Are you serious?” I ask, starting to realize the thought angers him. That doesn’t exactly make sense. I mean, I might be young, but even I know he’s been with other women. In fact…
He glares at me, nostrils flaring. “Answer the question, Bree.”
“Why are you changing the sheets?” I ask him, totally going with a hunch. Something flashes across his face, not an emotion, but maybe shock.
“I haven’t been here in forever, they’re dirty. Now answer my question,” he growls, the tone vibrating through me.
“This couch isn’t exactly clean,” I continue to argue. Excitement spreading inside my body.
“Are you questioning me, Bree?” he asks, bending even further down. His hand moves from my hair to my neck, and he pulls my face closer to him, while keeping a firm hold on me. Maybe I should be afraid. There’s adrenaline running through my veins. It’s churning and drumming inside of me, making my heart beat faster, making my face heat, and anticipation spreads through me. It’s not fear though. It’s excitement.
“Maybe.” I smirk.
“Answer my question, first,” he says, his voice and face stern. It might be my imagination but I think his eyes are softer though.
“No. I haven’t done that before,” I tell him, giving in.
“Done that?” he presses daring me to say the words.
“Used my mouth on anyone before. I haven’t wanted to until now.”
“Good girl. Now give Daddy a kiss before I go shower and clean up,” he says with a smile, and I can’t help but hang up on that word again. Daddy. He’s said it a couple times now. I shouldn’t like it. I really shouldn’t. Yet, every time he says it I get this funny feeling in my stomach, and my heart stops and then it feels like it tumbles in my chest. As wrong as it is…with Jax…I like it.
“You didn’t tell me why you’re changing the sheets,” I push, not even bothering to hide the happiness on my face. I wouldn’t say it out loud, but Jax was jealous about the idea of another man near me. Me!
“Because, brat, there might have been another woman here before, and I don’t want anything to do with her, touching you. Including the sheets.”
I celebrated too quickly. I knew—or at least I was pretty sure, why Jax wanted to change the sheets, but hearing him say that, causes jealousy to fire all the way through me. I don’t like it. I don’t like the idea of Jax with anyone else.
My face falls as my victory is swept from under me. “Was she special?”
“Bree,” he sighs, a look of frustration coming out on his face. He brings his hand to his forehead, rubbing the crease above his right eyebrow in aggravation. He doesn’t want to tell me. That means something. It has to.
Regret, jealousy, and hurt curl in my stomach. I shouldn’t react, because whoever she was has nothing to do with here and now, but the emotion is still there, and there’s nothing I can do to change how I feel.
“It’s okay. I shouldn’t have asked. Go clean up,” I tell him, trying to keep the wobble out of my voice, because for some reason, I feel the urge to cry.
“Jesus,” he growls, but it doesn’t sound like anger. Especially by the delicate way he pulls me into his lap, afghan and all. Which is kind of a shame because it shields his cock from me. I want to cry and his dick is the last thing I should be thinking of. I try to hide my face from him, afraid of what he might see, but as soon as he gets me settled, his hand goes back to my neck, and he holds my face so I can’t get away from him. “When a woman gives her body to you, that makes them special. A man isn’t a man if he doesn’t respect that.”