by Gemma James
“How did you meet Monica?” Her voice startles me back to the here and now, and though Monica is the last person I want to talk about, I understand why Jules is curious.
“I can’t remember the exact moment we met. Our families have been close for decades, so I think we always just knew each other.”
“Were you close growing up?”
“For the most part, yeah. Monica was like an annoying little sister to Kade and me. We used to play in the mud together.” I laugh at the memory. “Roni would get so pissed at us for corrupting her daughter.”
“When did friendship change to more?”
I walk two fingers down Jules’ arm, thinking back to my youth. “In high school. One day I woke up and noticed she wasn’t a kid anymore. But nothing happened until years after college.” The clouds thicken beyond the bedroom window, obscuring the sun, and I find the weather a perfect match for where this conversation is headed. “At some point, she fell for my brother.”
Jules widens her eyes. “That must have been awkward.”
I shift until we’re lying face-to-face. “I found out the day she went missing. He was screwing her before we got married, and I had no idea anything was going on between them.”
“I’m sorry,” she says, palming my cheek, and I hate the pity I spy in her expression.
I press a finger to her lips. “Don’t apologize. I know I’m an idiot for not seeing it sooner, but I don’t want your pity.” The pad of my finger drops from her soft lips, and she darts her tongue out to wet them.
“You’re not an idiot, Cash. You gave them your trust, and they broke it.”
“Even so, I feel like a fool. Monica has always been harder to read, but Kaden is my twin. I should’ve known.”
“What if you had known? Would it have changed anything?”
I think back to all the hellish months, to Monica’s mood swings and frigid stares. To the way she shut me out without explanation or recourse, and a heavy sense of saddened rage ignites in my gut. Her honesty could have saved us both so much heartache.
“Yeah, it would’ve changed things. I wouldn’t have gone down this road with her if I’d known she had a history with my brother.” I push Jules to her back, pressing her into the mattress. “But then I might not have met you, so I wouldn’t change a thing.”
A small smile graces her lips. “I’m glad we met.”
“Me too,” I murmur, touching my mouth to hers in a brief kiss. “What about you? You were running from something the day we met. You never did tell me all the details.”
The light in her eyes dims a little as she nibbles on her lower lip. “I got into a huge fight with Chris over money and his drinking. It was getting bad.” She pauses, and I’d do anything to take away the dark shadow of pain rolling over her face. “We broke up for the thousandth time, and I went to the club and got wasted.”
“And slept with your married boss,” I finish for her. I don’t know much about what happened back in Oklahoma, but I remember her telling me that much. It’s not every day a potential employee is so direct in an interview.
“I don’t even remember it. I woke up the next morning and realized what I’d done, and I…” A breath shudders off her lips, and the rapid flutter of her lids tells me she’s fighting tears.
“Did you love him?”
She shakes her head. “He was just a distraction from the problems I didn’t want to face. My relationship with Chris had deteriorated to the point of no return. We were volatile together.”
“Some would call that passion.”
“We had it in the beginning.”
“But not in the end?”
“No,” she whispers, reaching between us to wrap her fingers around my cock. Instantly, I go hard and thick in the tight glove of her hand. “And never like this.”
I drop my head, groaning into her shoulder. “I’ll never get enough of your touch, Jules.”
“I’ll never tire of touching you.”
“I don’t have any more condoms on me.”
“That’s okay,” she says as she rolls me to my back. “We don’t need them for this.” Her gaze flicks up to meet mine as she crawls down my chest, blond hair trailing over my abs. She fastens her lips around my cock, and her expression is a mixture of sexual guile and determination.
Empowerment and seduction.
Her full lips stretch around me in perfection—as if that mouth were designed to suck cock. She’s just begun, but already my control is slipping. Eyes drifting shut, I concentrate on enjoying what she’s so eager to give.
“Fucking hell, Jules.” I thrust my hips upward and expel a pleading moan for more.
Goddamn, does she ever give it to me. She licks along the underside, swirls her tongue around the head, then takes me so deep that I almost lose my shit. Gripping her by the hair, I groan her name.
“Fuck, that’s it. Take it all.”
Emboldened by her tiny moans, I push on the back of her head, urging her lips toward the root of my shaft, and lodge the tip of my cock between her tonsils. She has zero fucking fear, and her willingness to take my length into her mouth owns me to my soul. She increases the tempo, the suction, gagging relentlessly with each journey to the back of her throat. Still, she doesn’t pull away.
Not that I’d let her. I’m not prepared to give her mercy.
Because I’m wrecked, lost in the warm suction of her mouth, my neck at a constant strain as I will my cock deeper and deeper down her throat. This girl knows how to give head, and I can’t for the life of me understand how her ex criticized her for a supposed lack of skill.
What a fucking idiot.
She’s got my hands shaking, fingers tightening in her hair with each thrust of my hips bringing me in and out of her beautiful mouth. Reality narrows to this room, to this bed. A car rumbles outside in the alley, wisps of conversation drift from down the vestibule, and life is in bull-blown motion beyond the sanctuary of these four bedroom walls.
Despite all that, the world fails to exist. In this moment, I’m reduced to this wanton need clawing inside me, destroying me as her mastery sucks the fucking life out of me.
“Jesus Christ, Jules.”
No one’s ever held this kind of power over me. This beautiful, independent, sexy woman is making me the center of her universe, and I’m entranced, ruined for all others.
“Never seen anything so goddamn sexy. You have no clue what you do to me.” I push deep into her throat one last time, legs trembling, on the verge of coming. Before my control slips, I pull her off my cock.
“I need to fuck you.”
“We don’t have any condoms.”
Hesitating, I search her face, but all I find is trust and love lighting her sable eyes. “We don’t need a condom for what I have in mind.”
18. Sinfully Wrong
Jules
I study him, trying to piece together the puzzle. He’s obviously got something up his sleeve. “What do you have in mind?”
“I’ll show you.” He shifts until I’m lying against him, my back to his front in a near spooning fashion. I’m not sure what he’s planning to do, but I’m too distracted by the throb between my legs and the heaviness of his cock against my ass to care. I’m desperate for him and will do anything he asks.
“Do you have a vibrator?” One arm bands around my chest, thumb flicking a nipple as he parts my thighs. As soon as I’m spread open with his legs nestled between mine, he teases my clit.
“Y-yes.” I haven’t used it ages, but I have one—a gift from Les on my last birthday. “It’s in the nightstand.”
“Do you have lube to go with that vibrator?”
“Uh-huh.”
He moves long enough to get into my drawer then settles behind me again, items in hand. The lube is dropped somewhere on the bed, but he pushes the vibrator inside me, and the strong motor sends my spine into an endless arch. I press my ass against his erection.
“Have you ever been fucked anally?” He inches the
vibrator out before sliding it back in, and I shake my head, eyes wide.
“Have you ever wanted to try it?”
“I’ve never…thought about it.” But now I’m thinking about it, and I’m stunned that the idea is…more arousing than I thought it would be. Maybe it’s the waves of vibrations going through my most intimate place, but the thought of doing something so dirty and forbidden with Cash makes me clench around the toy.
“I need to come,” I plead with a whimper, hips moving in time to the pace of his hand. He’s all but fucking me with the vibrator. I squeeze my butt cheeks at the thought of his cock penetrating between them.
“Not yet,” he murmurs, adjusting the toy to the lowest setting. “I want to fuck you in the ass, if you’ll let me.”
“Will it hurt?”
“A little at first, but I’ll make it feel really fucking amazing, Jules.” Turning my face toward his, he claims my mouth, tongue slipping past my lips in languid licks while the pace of the vibrator slows to a crawl. The heat building between my thighs is cooling, allowing time to prolong this, to consider doing other things.
Things I’ve never done before.
Things I only want to experience with him. Never anyone else. Perhaps, that’s the most thrilling reason of all.
“Okay,” I whisper, breaking the kiss.
He sucks in a breath. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, I trust you.”
We fail to move for several seconds, gazes locked on each other. I’m lost inside our connection when he grabs the bottle of lube.
“I cherish your trust in me.” He squirts a generous dollop into one palm then takes his cock in hand, preparing himself. Gently moving me to my side, he spreads my cheeks and presses the head of his shaft against my backside, instructing me to relax as he probes my tight hole. Slowly, he pushes the tip inside.
I hiss a breath through clenched teeth, but after a few seconds, the ache fades to a tolerable level, and he amps up the vibrations again.
“How does it feel?”
“Weird.”
“We’ll go slow. I’m barely inside you yet.” He grabs my hip, pulling me closer as he sinks in a little further. “Focus on how good the vibrator feels.” He quickens the pace of the toy, and his mouth devours my neck, teeth nipping sensitive flesh as he kisses his way to my shoulder. I shutter my gaze and give myself over to the varying sensations rioting through me.
The increasing pressure in my ass, accompanied by a burn I can’t escape—a burn that intensifies the deeper he pushes inside—yet something about it feels incredible.
The fullness in my bottom.
The utter wrongness of the act.
And the heat of his hands, which seem to be…everywhere.
On my nipples, teasing my clit, gripping my throat.
“Are you okay?” He breathes the question against my skin, inducing a body-wide shudder.
“Uh-huh.” The affirmation comes out at a high pitch, followed by another uncontrolled mewl.
“Does it hurt?”
“A little,” I gasp. “But it feels so good.”
He gains another inch, and I gasp again.
“Press your thighs together. Don’t let it slip.”
I do as he says, and the vibrator is snug in my pussy, driving me to new heights as my insides stretch to accommodate his penetration. With a final push, he lodges his cock inside my ass, and I stretch even further, taking his girth until he owns my body in a way no one’s owned it before.
“Jules,” he hisses, teeth scraping over my shoulder. “Fuck, your ass is tight. I’ll never get enough. Never.”
Our bodies find mutual rhythm, meeting in perfect tandem. Sweat breaks out at my temples, slides down my cheeks. Tears seep from my eyes. Cash sets the pace, the depth, and the sensation of him moving inside me is the most erotic thing I’ve ever experienced. Allowing him to take me like this binds me to him in a way I can’t explain. A way I barely understand.
I’m overcome.
There’s no other word for it.
I’m all twisted up, my body and soul launched into deep space. And he’s right there with me, locked inside the bubble of our intimacy. The profoundness of this moment is soul-changing.
I’ll never be the same again, and I don’t think he will be either.
A climax tears through me with such violence that I screech his name, thighs mashed together to milk the vibrator for all it’s worth. He thrusts inside my ass, a man on a mission to own me completely, and commands me to open my eyes. Demands that all-consuming connection between us as he nears orgasm.
“So damn good. Jesus, Jules.” He pumps one last time then stalls on a resonant groan. There’s no withdrawing this time, no latex separating us. He comes with a gruff cry, jerking deeper until he’s emptied everything he is inside me.
19. Reality Knocks
Cash
Tangled limbs in the sheets. Dozing off between kisses and wandering hands. Getting to know each other through whispered conversation. Hours pass us by in a flash. Rain pelts the window, and the sun sinks toward the horizon, hidden behind the cover of heavy clouds. Jules’ bedroom is growing dimmer by the minute. So is our time together because I know I have to find the strength to leave this bed.
To leave Jules and return to the hospital.
Maybe I should feel guilty for disappearing for the better part of the day, for leaving Monica alone to wake on her own, to face her mistakes by herself, but I don’t.
Jules gave herself to me so completely, with so much trust and acceptance, that there’s not an iota of remorse flowing through my blood. For the first time in days, I’m calm, an aura of serenity driving away the chaos of my mind.
I see our future together so clearly, and I can’t help but reach for it with everything I’ve got.
“I don’t want to leave,” I whisper into her hair, tightening my arms around her, reluctant to let go. Spooning her is pure heaven.
“I don’t want you to go either, but I understand why you have to.”
“This isn’t like before. I’ll be back later. I promise.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
“I’ll be back,” I say firmly. “I’m just going to check on her before going home to pack a bag…if that’s okay?”
She turns in my arms. “Of course it’s okay. This bed is definitely big enough for the two of us.”
Grinning, I bring my lips to hers, and my cock springs to life again, aching to sink inside her body and find completion.
To find home.
I break free with a groan. “You’re an addiction I can’t fight.”
“Don’t fight it then.”
“I have to or I’d keep you in bed forever. You don’t realize the affect you have on me.”
“That’s not true. It’s the same affect you have on me.”
“Fair enough.” Letting out a sigh of resignation, I disentangle from the comfort of her embrace and move to sit at the edge of the bed. Jules gets up and starts gathering her clothing from the floor as I pull on my pants.
“Just for the record,” she says, buttoning up her top, “I’ll wait however long it takes. I’m not going anywhere.”
Two strides brings me to where she stands. I haul her into my arms and pull her into a deep kiss. As her fingers sift through my hair, she wraps her legs around my waist, and it takes the last of my willpower not to tumble onto the bed with her and lose a few more hours.
“If I have my way,” I say, forcing my lips from hers, “you’ll be in my bed every night for the rest of my life.”
“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
“I don’t want to wait, Jules. As soon as the divorce papers go through, I’m putting the penthouse up for sale. I want to find a place that’s our own.”
Her eyes are a little wide as she slides out of my arms, feet firm on the floor. I grip her shoulders to steady her, because she seems a little off-kilter from what I just told her, and I’m not sure if
her reaction is a bad thing, or a good thing.
I’m hoping for the latter.
“You want to move in together?”
I can’t help but grin at her stunned tone. “That’s what I said.” I hold her face in my hands, thumbs brushing her cheekbones.
“This is all happening fast,” she whispers.
“Is that such a bad thing?”
She shakes her head. “It’s just a big thing.” I let my hands drop from her cheeks, and she glances at the gold wedding band on my finger. “I’m surprised you’re ready to jump in so soon, considering everything you’ve been through with your wife.”
“You’re different, Jules.” I don’t know how I know it, but I do. The day I married Monica, my gut was sick with the what-ifs, not to mention the pressure our parents put on us. I have no doubt there was something real between Monica and me, but it didn’t compare to the way I feel about Jules. I would marry her tomorrow if I could. “I want forever with you. White picket fences, children, the whole nine yards.”
“I want that with you too,” she says, gnawing on her lower lip, and I’d have to be blind to miss the uncertainty playing on her face. “But you haven’t even asked your wife for a divorce yet. How about we take it one step at a time?”
“I can do that.” I press my mouth against hers, stealing a final moment before we finish dressing, because the real world is waiting beyond these four walls. By the time we reach her living room, evening has cast her apartment in shadow. Jules flicks on a lamp, and that’s when someone pounds on the door.
A deep voice shouts her name from the other side.
We glance at each other, and her eyes are huge with alarm, because it’s her ex, and she knows it as well as I do.
“I’ll get rid of him,” I say as an illogical wave of jealousy threatens to choke me.
She grabs my arm. “Don’t answer. He’ll go away.”