The Dirty Series 2(52)

“My new wardrobe?”

“Everything you might need to stay here while your place is repaired.”

She bites her lip, eyes shining. “Then what?”

“Then I was going to take you to the bedroom and have my way with you.”

Angelica unbuttons the top two buttons of her white blouse and purses her lips. “What if we switch the order up a little bit?”

“You want to see the wardrobe first?”

Angelica’s laugh is real, genuine. “Bed.”

I frown a little. “Are you absolutely sure that—?”

One half step, and Angelica has the lapels of my dove gray jacket in her fists, yanking me down and covering my mouth with hers, biting at my lip. It feels so good that a little groan escapes from my lips.

“Listen,” she says between passionate kisses. “We can talk about work today, but only after....” She comes in for another kiss and it’s both too much and not fucking enough at the same time. I want to be inside her, damn all of these clothes, damn the bedroom, there’s nobody here today and I can fuck this woman anywhere I please.

I finish Angelica’s sentence for her the next time she comes up for air. “As soon as I have you. Right now.”





Chapter Seventeen





Angelica



Jett pops the rest of the buttons on my blouse on the way to getting it off, and when those go it drives him a little wild. He’s tearing at the fabric, breaking the seams. By the time it falls to the floor, he’s already swept me up in his arms, striding effortlessly into the lavish living room, the city spread out in front of us through the massive picture windows.

I couldn’t be less interested in the view. I’m too wrapped up in wriggling out of my skirt while Jett shrugs off his jacket. In seconds, his clothes are strewn on the carpet next to my skirt. His body is absolute perfection. Ripped abs. Strong arms. And the green eyes with fire at the center....

Then his hands are encircled around my waist, pulling me in, and I breathe him in, his scent spicy and clean and manly.

I want nothing between us.

I run my hands down his bare chest, letting my fingertips explore every dip and ridge as he plants kisses down the side of my neck, over the skin of my shoulder. When his hands go lower, diving between my legs and stroking the slickness there, it feels like a flame that suffuses every nerve ending with an electrified warmth. His fingertips are pure pleasure gliding over my skin.

The kiss deepens, slows, until finally I can’t stand it.

“Give it to me,” I cry out hoarsely.

Jett responds by unhooking my bra and sliding the straps off my shoulders. My nipples peak at attention from the air conditioning, and Jett covers one with the pad of his thumb. The sensation takes my breath away, and then he leans his head down and swirls his tongue around the sensitive skin. I can’t help throwing my head back, pressing into him.

“You’re gorgeous like this,” he whispers, and the next thing I know he’s pressing me back into the couch, pulling my ass to the edge, and spreading my legs wide. Kneeling on the lush carpeting between them, he looks at me for a long moment, face focused with anticipation, like I’m a gift he’s about to unwrap on Christmas morning.

Then the moment stretches to its breaking point and snaps, my legs quivering, my insides melting as Jett devours me like an exquisite entree, his tongue ravenously exploring every fold, pressing inside me, licking, tasting.

“Oh, my God.”

“You like that?” Jett says, and pushes one finger into my opening. My legs clench involuntarily, but they meet with the rock-hard resistance of his shoulders.

“Yes.”

Another finger joins the first, and then he does something—Jesus Christ, I don’t know what and I don’t care—that hits a space inside of me that I never knew existed until this moment. When he does, it releases the climax that’s been building since he kissed me in the foyer. As I start to come down from my high, he curls his fingers again and sends me back up to the top of the roller coaster, again, and again, and again.

By the time he pulls me to my feet, bending me over the arm of the sofa and slamming the full length of his steel-rod cock in to the hilt in one stroke, I’m jelly, I’m light, I’m his.

I’m so lost in him that I don’t hear my phone ringing, once, twice, three times.



After we’ve showered, Jett sends Stuart to collect our sushi from Sasabune, which is one of the priciest restaurants in New York. While he’s texting the order directly to the owner of the place—sometimes Jett’s lifestyle strikes me as completely unbelievable—I go hunting for my phone and find it exactly where I left it, tucked inside my purse on the table in the foyer.