The Dirty Series 2(88)

“I figured.”

“I wanted to tell you so many times. I wanted—I wanted to make it so clear that I was only doing it because I thought my brother’s life was in danger. It still might be. I don’t know if they’ve caught Charlie or his people yet. But every time I worked up the courage, Charlie would threaten me again. He even found out where my mother lives.”

Her eyes are wide, tears collecting in the corners.

“I would have done the same thing.”

She swallows.

“I’m sorry, Jett.” Her voice drops and her eyes fall to her lap.

I could tell her that it’s all right, that I’ll give her the rest of our lives to work this out, but the words escape me.

Instead, I put my fingers under her chin, tilt her face toward mine, and kiss her until there’s no doubt she’s forgiven, completely and totally.





Chapter Forty-Five





Angelica



Jett kisses me long and deep and hard, and with every moment the kiss stretches out, more of my body relaxes, more warmth spreads out from my chest down to my toes.

At first it’s a gentle warmth, a happiness that I’ve been forgiven, that he’s no longer done with me, but as the kiss lengthens, a spark inside me catches fire.

I press into him, harder, and swing my legs over his lap so that I’m straddling him. Our bodies fit together so perfectly that it would be a fucking shame if we walked away from each other ever again. Jett seems to know it. His hands go around my waist, pulling me down hard. He breaks the kiss and turns my head to the side with one hand, dragging his lips down the side of my neck, fast, then slow, so slowly that it makes me entire body tremble, sparks shooting from where his lips make contact with my skin.

“Fuck,” I whisper. When I can’t stand it I buck against him, turning back so I can unbutton his shirt. I get the first three done before he’s gripping the hem of my tank with both hands and tearing it over my head.

I don’t have a bra on, so my breasts are exposed, and as I work to unbutton the rest of his shirt he leans forward and circles one of my nipples—already hard—with his tongue, cupping the weight of the other in his hand, playing my nipple with the pad of his thumb. The sensation is electrifying and connects in a zinging line with my pussy, which is instantly soaked and throbbing.

“You’re a God damn treasure, Angelica Chandler,” he says, his voice husky.

“You sure about that?” I can hardly breathe, I want him so badly, and his fucking shirt won’t come undone.

“Stand up.”

I leap to my feet beside the couch and he stands, too, then rips his shirt open with both hands. He shrugs it off and tosses it to the floor, then gets to work on his belt buckle.

No time to waste. I hook my thumbs in the waistband of my yoga pants and slide them down along with my panties, stepping out of them just as Jett gathers me in again, falling back against the couch.

I spread my legs over him. “Yes.”

He’s already hard, already waiting, and I put one leg on either side of him and line up the head of his cock with my opening. He’s touching my wetness, a fraction of an inch outside already, and I run my finger along his jawline and to his lips. He flicks his tongue out and then bites down, gently, so gently, on my fingertip.

“Do you really forgive me?”

I have to know.

“Yes.”

There’s only one way to respond.

I lever myself up and come down hard against his steeled cock, taking the length of him inside me in one clean thrust. Jett throws his head back against the couch and grips my hips so tightly I’m sure there’ll be bruises tomorrow, but I don’t care. It feels so good to be with him. To be possessed by him.

I swirl my hips around, rocking against him so that he fills every inch of me. He presses against the walls of my pussy, a fucking pleasurable stretching that’s going to push me over the edge, it’s going to....

I work harder, circling, fucking, and he meets me with every thrust, the head of his cock hitting a spot inside that sends waves of heat through my entire body. I toss my head back and Jett leans forward and licks the space between my breasts. A deep moan escapes me. I hope the neighbors are out.

I’m riding him up to the very top and I’m almost there, almost fucking there, when he grabs my hips and presses me down hard on his cock so I can’t move.

“Wait.”

“Wait for what?” I gasp.

“I have to ask you something.” He has a wicked look on his face, a wicked gleam in his eyes. He knows what he’s doing to me, that sexy bastard.

“Ask it,” I say through gritted teeth.

“Do you forgive me for breaking up with you in my accountant’s office?”