by Shain Rose
“Unfortunately, yes,” he ground out as he steered me toward a black SUV.
I attempted to jerk my elbow away from him, but he just tightened his hold and kept pulling me toward the vehicle. “I don’t want a ride.”
“Well, I would have considered that before.”
“Before what?”
“Before I made my guy wait twenty minutes for you to lollygag and mingle with every person in the club.”
“Excuse me?” I shook him off when we reached the SUV. “For your information, I didn’t need nor did I ask for need a ride. I am perfectly capable of getting myself home safely.”
“No woman looking like you and dressed like you at midnight on a Saturday is capable of doing that.” He opened the back door. “Get in.”
I didn’t move one muscle toward that SUV.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I was capable of a lot more than he would ever know. “Don’t be an asshole. If you think women can’t—”
“Victory, I don’t have time for this shit.”
“Good.” I looked down at my phone and pulled up the Uber app again. “Then leave and let me call an Uber. You would be surprised at how amazing some of these drivers are. They always have the most unique life stories.”
I heard him stalk toward me but didn’t look up. I knew he was irritated, I just didn’t care.
Until he swept me up off the sidewalk and practically shoved me into the back of the SUV.
I should have screamed bloody murder or kidnapping or something.
“Are you kidding me?” I yelled instead.
He got in behind me. “Give it a rest. I told you no one has time for this bullshit.”
“You are seriously the most infuriating human being on the planet.”
“Don’t count yourself out. Where do you live?”
I eyed his driver, who’d pulled away from the curb. I wanted to withhold my address just to spite Jett, but that would force us to be together in the SUV longer.
I rattled off the street name. “Just a few blocks from the park.”
Jett narrowed his eyes. “That’s the area you live in?”
I shrugged. “Yup.”
He didn’t explain why he asked and it made me uncomfortable. I hated that feeling. I sat there as we drove in silence, wondering if he thought it was a good neighborhood or a bad one. Did he think I was below the poverty line or spoiled wealthy?
Or did he think nothing at all as he sat there without any emotion on his face whatsoever.
When we turned onto my street, I finally caved. “Why did you ask if this is the area I live in?”
“I wanted to know.”
I waited, watching the city lights dance over his face.
I rolled my eyes as we pulled to a stop in front of my apartment building. “You wanted to know? You aren’t going to elaborate?”
When his gaze cut to me, I stifled a gasp. The emotion was there. His steely blue eyes drilled into me when he replied, “Do not take an Uber from that club all the way here ever again.”
I didn’t know whether to be turned on by his command or offended. With our history, I chose the latter, knowing I wanted more than a romp in the sheets. “Jett, my neighborhood isn’t unsafe.”
“Do you know how many side streets there are on the way here? Do you know how many bad neighborhoods we passed?”
“I’m capable of taking care of myself.”
“You’re a tiny, naive girl who looks like a bad man’s wet dream every time you dress up. You are a Dateline case waiting to happen.”
I swung my door open as I scoffed at him. “I’m not naive.” I paused and widened my eyes as he followed me out of the SUV. “What are you doing?”
“Walking you to your apartment,” he ground out like it was the last thing he wanted to be doing at that moment.
“I don’t need you to walk me to my apartment. This is a decent part of town.” I crossed my arms and glared at him. He somehow looked masculine even getting out of a vehicle, and then he straightened to his full height. Every time he stood in front of me, I wondered if I’d only ever be a booty call to him or if we could have something more.
“I didn’t say this wasn’t a decent part of town. Stop being so damn defensive.”
I turned on my heel and walked to my apartment’s lobby. I didn’t need to humor him or anyone else.
Except the driver. Shit! I spun around and raced to the driver’s side. I knocked on his window and an older man lowered it. “Yes, ma’am?”
“Thank you so much for the ride tonight. Next time, if there is a next time, we should have a bit more fun, right? What’s your favorite type of music?”
He beamed. “Johnny Cash is close to my heart.”
“Johnny Cash is getting played the whole way.”
We smiled at each other and then I waved goodbye.
I skipped all the way to my lobby, leaving Jett in the street.
I didn’t slow down because I didn’t want to lose the feeling of joy that flowed through me from making someone a little happier that evening.
9
Jett
She was purposely trying to drive me insane. She ran in front of my SUV to get to the driver’s side where traffic raced by—without even looking.
As she approached me, I figured I would get an apology or a thank you, but she just kept skipping right on by.
I grunted. “You’re a real piece of work, you know that?”
Her blonde hair swished with each step. The scrap of clothing she, I am sure, would claim was a dress swayed along with her. The fabric floated around her legs but somehow clung to all the right places.
She looked like my heaven’s devil tonight—so pretty I was willing to sin for her. It had probably been a mistake to meet them out, but I couldn’t get our phone conversation out of my head. I wanted to know exactly what a cordial business relationship entailed. So, when my brother told me he was going to bother Brey on her girls’ night out, I found myself tagging along.
I got the warning on the way there. “Don’t keep fucking with her, Jett. That’s Brey’s girl.”
I grunted because it wasn’t his business that I was fucking with her in the first place. Or just plain fucking her. Which I found I wanted to do again.
I couldn’t understand the effect she had on me. It wasn’t like me to go to a damn club to find her looking like a dessert I couldn’t resist. It wasn’t like me to want to drag her out so no man could look at her. And it definitely wasn’t like me to follow her out and watch her flirt with every damn man in the club either.
“Did you see the oncoming traffic when you went to talk to my driver, Vick?”
She scoffed as she opened the lobby door. She walked through and didn’t hold the door open for me. I slammed my hand into it and followed her in anyway.
“All right. Not worried about that, I guess. Did you know my driver could have run you over when you practically dove in front of the vehicle?” I said to her back.
She mumbled, “Oh my God.”
We made our way to a side staircase. I watched her behind as she climbed them in her stilettos and I’m not proud to say my dick stood straight to attention. Those legs were sculpted to be licked and wrapped around a man. This man.
“I’m surprised my driver didn’t follow you home too with this fucking outfit.”
She spun around on the top step. “What’s your point, Jett?”
I shrugged and looked her up and down. “You have to have some sort of survival instinct, woman.”
“I survive by not worrying about dumb shit.”
She needed to understand there was a risk to being in Chicago, an enormous city where women were most definitely preyed upon. She whipped around before she entered her hallway. “Do you know that two guys followed you out of that club?”
Her laugh carried through the space. "So what? I was probably talking with them before I left. And, let’s not forget, you followed me out of the club, too, didn't you, Jett
?"
"I'm not just some guy."
"Aren't you though?" Her tone changed; she enunciated every word.
We made it to her front door, but she didn't move to open it.
"You going to invite me in?"
"Depends on how you want to act."
"Open your door, Victory."
She rolled her eyes and put her hand on her hip. “Jett, I don’t answer to you.”
“You answer to anyone?”
Her eyes glazed over, like she got lost in her own head. Then she looked down to grab her keys and, I assume, to break eye contact with me. “Everyone answers to someone or something.”
I leaned toward her, hoping she would continue her train of thought. I wanted to know why she had that melancholy tone all of a sudden, why her hands shook when she put the key in the lock, why her eyes didn’t meet mine for a couple more seconds.
She turned to me, her smile was back in place, but it didn’t reach her eyes the way it normally did.
“Say you’ll be fun if you come in.”
“Don’t play games, woman.” I stepped toward the entrance.
She pulled the door close to her, blocking the way. “Say you’ll be fun.”
She enjoyed grating on my nerves. Her eyes sparkled with mischief as I sighed and felt my jaw tick. “I’ll be as fun as you want me to be.”
“Oh, I want all the fun.” She swung the door open wide and stepped back.
I walked in and wrapped my arm around her waist. “You better be worth the trouble.”
She started to respond, but I didn’t want to bicker. I dove into her mouth and kissed her hard, bit her bottom lip, slid a hand up her neck to hold her jaw as I ravaged that sweet taste out of her.
She moaned and encircled her arms around my neck before jumping up to wrap her legs around me too. I kicked the door closed and shoved her up against it.
She gasped when her back hit the wood. “A little rough?” she said in my ear.
“Next time you go out to a club in a dress like that, expect rough, Vick.”
She moaned and rolled her hips. My dick responded a little too fast for my liking. I swept my hand up her skirt and found she was wearing next to nothing under it. “How wet are you for me already?”
“Jett, don’t play games.”
“Games are what make things fun, aren’t they?” I dipped my hand in her underwear, and she hissed. “Tell me, how wet?”
Her honey-colored eyes simmered with heat. I wanted them on fire when I took her this time. I slipped a finger in her and felt her tighten around me.
“Damn, woman,” I sighed.
“Don’t stop.”
“A fucking nuclear bomb couldn’t get me to stop.” That glazed look in her eye, her body tightening everywhere, the sheen of sweat that made her body glisten—it all made me want to get her off as many times as she liked. When that woman orgasmed and writhed under me, I liked it too much.
It was why I had gone to the club tonight, left work at home, decided to play rather than focus on my responsibilities.
She panted as I sucked on her neck, and I slid another finger into her. She bucked a little and moaned.
I moved my mouth up to her ear, “How wet, Victory?”
She hummed and whispered, “So wet.”
“That’s right, baby.” I worked her faster, giving her exactly what she wanted. She clawed at my back, looked toward the ceiling, and then she screamed. She rode my hand as she milked out every last bit of the pleasure I gave her.
She practically melted against me. Her legs slid down my back as she tried to right herself and stand up.
I didn’t let her go all the way to the floor though. I held her little body in my arms and mumbled, “Where’s your room?”
She was about to answer and then her phone went off. A twangy country voice belted out something about acting like a lady.
Vick shoved away from me. “Oh my God,” she mumbled as she searched for the phone.
She scrambled to silence it.
“Do you need to answer that?” I asked.
“No!” she yelped.
“Kinda late for a phone call.”
She wrapped her arms back around my neck. “It wasn’t important.”
Her lips pursed and her jaw tightened. Her body coiled with so much tension, I could feel it ready to snap. I stepped back to assess, to figure out if we should continue what we were doing.
“What happened to a nuclear bomb not stopping you?” she taunted, determination in her eyes.
I told myself I went to her because she was a willing body and damn good lay. I told myself I didn’t care about being the one to unwind that tension. I told myself I didn’t care about wanting to make that look in her eyes disappear.
I told myself I didn’t care.
Still, I stayed by her side until I saw her happiness return.
10
Vick
I cracked open one mascara-crusted eye. The side of the bed he would have been on was empty.
I sighed. Figured he’d have left before the sun came up.
I couldn’t complain though. Jett Stonewood was handing out orgasms like free candy. And, well, I was acting like a little kid with a sweet tooth.
Lying in bed thinking about his bedroom skills would have made for a relaxing and probably pleasurable Sunday. But I had wasted too much time thinking about him already. Jett, I decided, checked only one box for me. I needed someone to check off a lot more than that before I spent any more time on them than I already had on that man.
I jumped out of bed and called Brey. She was the one person I could count on here in Chicago.
“Hello?” she answered on the third ring with her usual polite tone. I don’t think I’d ever heard that tone change except when she answered a call from Jax.
“Hey, lover!” I would amp her up for the day along with everyone else if I had to. “What are your plans for the day?”
“Well, Jax seems to think I should stop decorating. I wanted to go shop for a vase but he says”—I heard him yelling in the background—“we don’t need any more vases.”
“You always need more vases,” I disagreed.
“Exactly. I told him he could help me look, but he’s laughing and working on his laptop right now.”
“What is with the Stonewoods and working?”
“Right?” she sighed. “Actually, I should probably be working because Jett will be on his Monday Rampage tomorrow.”
I threw on some athleisure clothing as I responded, “Girl, just call in sick. He can’t fire you. Better yet, tell him you can’t be there on Mondays. Then you can avoid it forever.”
I heard her try to suppress a laugh. “Vick, you know I can’t.”
“Um, you can. You are his sister-in-law.” A thought popped in my head. “Hey! Part of that company is technically yours now. Oh my God, girl. Get your own department out from under him.”
“He’s not so bad. He just takes work very, very seriously.”
“Too seriously.”
She stayed quiet, which I knew meant she fully agreed.
“All right. Want to go find that vase in the chaos that is Chicago?”
It took us an hour to meet at HomeGoods but when we walked in together, we sighed like we’d been deprived for years. Our eyes probably sparkled with delight as we tried to scope out all the deals at once.
“Okay,” I stepped in front of Aubrey before we started. “We have to find a vase. That is the goal.”
She nodded as her eyes bounced around the store. “Yup. Beautiful vase will be found.”
I turned to the purses, and my mouth practically salivated. “If we find a few other things, no one can blame us.”
Aubrey laughed. “Right.” It was her turn to step in front of me. She didn’t blink her big green eyes at all when she said, “And no one can blame you if you share your secret about Jett with me either.”
If I looked away, she’d know there was more to the story. “I don’t know w
hat you’re talking about.”
She stomped her foot. “Come on! I keep a good secret.”
“There’s no secret to keep.”
“I’m the worst liar, Vick. You aren’t much better.”
My mouth dropped. “That’s so rude!”
She looked up to the ceiling. “I know! I’m sorry.”
I was about to tell her it was all right.
“But I’m not really sorry.” She wrapped her arm around my waist and we both turned to look at a very nice purse. “We only have each other here in this big city. Katie only visits once in a while, and she’s not much good as a confidante. I’m your very best friend here. Like this beautiful purse, I’m one in a million.”
I looked down at her, narrowing my eyes a little. “I agree that you’re one in a million, Brey.”
“And you also agree that you don’t want to lose your one-in-a-million best shopping partner?”
“When did you get so ruthless?”
“When I married the love of my life and figured out I hated staying inside my little box.”
I sighed. She saw me conceding and her face lit up like a Christmas tree. “You can’t tell anyone.”
She didn’t squeal or jump for joy. Aubrey didn’t do things like that. She nodded solemnly. “I definitely won’t tell anyone,” She winced a little. “Pretty sure Jax already knows though.”
I rolled my eyes and grabbed the purse to throw in our cart. “I deserve this handbag for sharing all my crap with you today.”
We strolled around the store and put way too many things in that cart as I told her every dumb detail about my encounters with Jett.
She might have squealed once or twice.
“He’s so frickin’ good in bed, Brey. Like fireworks and explosions good. I want to fuck him all day. And yet, he’s sort of the worst human being ever.”
Her gaze wandered to the candy in the aisle as we stood in the checkout line. “Everyone has their demons. You know that.”
“Right. I make my demons angels though. I like hanging out with people who do the same.”
“Jett’s too much of a …”
“A pessimist? Or a complete jackass? Or—”