by Debra Kayn
Even Kylie, at almost nineteen years old, had sex with Milo before he went to college. She inhaled deeply, trying to settle her highly wound body, and just enjoy having Jett back in her life the way she'd craved for the last four years.
Most of her desperation came from her insecurities. She wanted to make everything perfect for him. She needed validation that nothing had changed between them, knowing everything had changed. But, she had to slow down.
From now on, he'd be here every day. Sleep with her every night. When she wanted to talk, he'd be here to listen.
She peeked up at him. He sat with his eyes closed.
Remembering how he'd told her about his difficulties in sleeping after he was incarcerated the first time, she held still and let him rest.
There would be time later to talk and do...other things.
Chapter Thirty Four
"He's resting, so we'll need to be quiet," whispered Sydney, greeting Kylie in the living.
Kylie looked down the hallway. "It's late. I'm going to go to bed."
Sydney hugged her sister. "The kids were good?"
"Yeah, but..." Kylie leaned in closer. "Dinner at Johanna and Chief's house was weird."
"How so?"
"I don't know, it was awkward, and usually it's not. Chief ate in silence and Johanna was preoccupied as if she was worried about him," said Kylie.
Sydney whispered, "I think they're just dealing with Jett coming home and the changes in him."
"Maybe." Kylie shrugged. "I just want to go to sleep and forget the whole day."
"I'll see you in the morning," whispered Sydney.
Kylie frowned, studying her. "Everything is okay with you and Jett?"
"I guess. He got home around five o'clock. I think he's in pain, but he hasn't talked much." Sydney rubbed her sister's arm. "I better get back in the bedroom before he wakes up alone."
Careful not to make any noise, she opened the bedroom door and tiptoed on bare feet to the bed in the dark. Laying down, she slowly moved her hand toward Jett when the lamp on the nightstand came on. She lifted her head.
Jett sat propped against the headboard looking at her.
"I was trying not to wake you." She looked down at his wrapped hand. "Are you hurting?"
"What were you doing?" he asked, ignoring her question.
"Kylie came home." She sat up in bed. "I was letting her know to be quiet so you could sleep, and she said she was going to bed."
While she talked, his gaze dropped to her breasts. Her nipples peaked against the old, thin shirt of Jett's she wore to bed. She had no idea how to stop her body from reacting to him. The last thing he'd need to deal with while recuperating was her attraction to him. Afraid of bumping his hand, she hadn't rested while snuggled up to him all evening.
"Are you cold or am I doing that to you?" He reached out with his good hand and skimmed her nipple.
A shock of pleasure curled in her stomach. The combination of sitting in his bed with him, having that intimacy before he was imprisoned, to being nervous and feeling like they'd both changed during their time apart made her shy.
"Answer me, Syd," he said.
She looked away and moistened her lips. "You," she whispered, knowing her answer only added on to the things he couldn't do because of his hand.
He hooked his finger under the neck of the shirt and pulled her forward. "Give me your lips."
"I don't want to hurt you." She struggled to hold herself braced on her arms without touching him.
"You won't." He leaned forward and captured her lips.
She closed her eyes wanting him back. Not this awkwardness or the lack of talking to each other. Even being in bed together was different. His strong arms weren't around her.
He pulled away, staring into her eyes. At a loss of how to communicate or show him how much she loved him, she tilted her face to kiss him again, and he leaned back, putting more distance between them.
"Sit on my legs facing me." He held his injured hand up out of the way.
"You're sure?" She got on her knees. "Tell me if I hurt you, okay?"
She lowered herself onto his thighs, catching a glimpse of his hardness pressing against his boxers. Somehow, even though she thought about him constantly, including every little detail about him, his size seemed bigger than she remembered.
He picked up her pillow and tossed it behind her and between his calves. "Lay down." She started to get up, and he shook his head. "Keep your ass on my lap and lean back. Put your head on the pillow."
She shivered and leaned back until she was laying on her back between his outstretched legs. Watching him, she lifted her feet off the bed and pressed her knees together, feeling vulnerable with her legs wide open in front of him on his lap.
He put his hand between her knees. "Put your feet back on the bed."
She forced her legs apart again. Embarrassed, she covered her face with her hands. If her shorts were gone, he'd be looking right at her pussy.
"Syd?"
"What?" she mumbled through her hands, unable to look at him.
"You're going to have to get used to me. I won't settle with a woman who doesn't enjoy sex." He stroked the outside of her leg, softening his demands.
She lowered her hands and lifted her head, looking at him. "How am I supposed to know if I like sex if I've never had it before?"
"You want it?"
"I do but to be honest...I've never even thought of this position." She let her head fall back on the pillow at her outburst and stared up at the ceiling. "I feel extremely weird right now," she muttered.
A click sounded, and the room went dark. She lifted her head, unable to see him. "Why'd you shut off the light?"
"Trust me to know what you need."
She shivered in the dark. That was the man she remembered. The one who led and took the decisions out of her hands. Decisions she had no experience making and knowing what she needed.
Darkness.
She inhaled deeply. He couldn't see her inexperience.
"Lift your ass," he said.
She pressed her feet down on the mattress. He tugged at her shorts, only one side going over her hip.
"Damnit." He grumbled and said, "Help me take your shorts off."
His heavy breathing showcased his frustration level only having one hand to use, and she shimmied the material over her butt, lifted her feet in the air, and removed her shorts.
Bare from the waist down, in the dark where he couldn't see her, she let her knees fall to the side and squeezed her eyes shut. Goosebumps tingled her skin. No one had ever seen her naked before.
Not that he could see her now.
She sighed, thankful he shut off the light.
Jett ran his hand up the inside of her thigh. She trembled under the force it took her not to clamp her legs together. She wanted to let him do whatever he wanted with her. But, wanting and doing were causing a war inside of her.
"You'll get used to me touching you." His deep voice settled over her. "I expect this will be your only time where you ride the fence."
Ride the fence? She stared into the dark, all her senses paying attention to his voice, his touch. If he meant she wanted him to touch her, but she didn't want him to touch—he was right. That's exactly how she was feeling.
The quiver in her stomach scared her as if she might hurl and yet, his fingers crept closer between her legs every time he caressed her, and she kept hoping he'd make the feeling keep going. Her hard nipples tightened even more. She touched her breasts under cover of darkness and the excitement in her body deepened.
Jett's hand cupped her pussy. Unable to keep from closing her legs at the shock of arousal, she lowered her hands and grabbed on to his thighs.
"Relax." He rubbed his palm over her.
From the sound, her wetness got on his hand. She swallowed hard, her heart racing. It wasn't as if she had no idea what would happen but doing it to herself was different than letting Jett do it for her.
Though fro
m her position on her back between his legs, she couldn't do anything. "Shouldn't I be, um, touching you?" she whispered.
"Not now." His fingers parted her lower lips.
Her legs quivered from that one touch of pleasure. She raised her hips, realizing afterward that he'd taken that as encouragement because he circled her clit. Maybe all he wanted her to do was let herself feel.
She could do that.
Yeah, she could feel.
All her life she'd wanted a kind touch, a loving touch. All her life she'd wished and dreamed for someone to keep her and love her.
She couldn't ask him if he loved her. Not now when she was feeling wanted.
He slid the tip of his finger inside of her. She gasped, prepared for pain.
"Never going to hurt you, Syd." He left his finger inside of her and used his thumb to circle her clit.
She bit down on her lip, stifling her moan. Her pleasure manipulated by him, she couldn't hold back the way her pelvis tilted, pressing against his hand. Raising her hands, she cupped her breasts. Her eyes closed and the noises coming from her were unstoppable.
He continued to make the same circle and pumped with the same speed.
She no longer cared that she was spread-eagled on his lap or that she'd never had sex or that his fingers slid over her because he drove her wild. It no longer mattered that he only had one hand to use or that she couldn't touch him.
She belonged to him.
Jett gave her what no one else had ever given her.
Love.
Love exploded inside of her
Chapter Thirty Five
Jett turned the light on and looked down his body to the evidence of what he'd done. His cock pulsed harder at the visual picture of Sydney's wet pussy, spread in front of him. She'd come hard enough to be unaware that he'd turned on the light, giving him his first look at her.
That first look at her almost made him lose his load.
She moaned, stretched, and must've opened her eyes and found the light on because she jerked up, bracing on her elbows, and looked at him.
Those blue eyes owned him.
"H-how long was the light on?" Her shocked looked on top of the flush of her cheeks only excited him more.
"Not long." He held out his good hand and pulled her up until she sat upright on his lap.
She glanced down between her legs. Once again, he damned the situation and his lack of control when it came to Sydney. He wanted nothing more than to flip her onto her back and sink his cock deep inside of her tight pussy.
But, he couldn't put any weight on his hand. He couldn't hold her with his hand. He couldn't touch her the way he wanted to with his hand.
"I should do something for you," whispered Sydney, staring at the front of his boxers. "But, I don't want to hurt you."
"Already hurting." He pulled the front of his boxers down below his balls, releasing his cock. "There's condoms—fuck, I don't know where the hell anything is."
She lifted her gaze. "Kylie has some."
"Kylie?" He frowned, knowing her sister was younger.
"I'll go get one." She kissed him and slid off the bed.
"Get the whole damn package. She's too fucking young to need them." He ran his hand over his face and groaned. Sydney's sweet aroma clung to his fingers. "Sydney, hurry up," he yelled.
She slipped back into the room and shut the door. "Sorry, she moved them, and I had to look in the dark because she's already asleep."
Going to the bed, she handed him the package. He lifted his injured hand. Irritated, he tossed the condom on the bed beside him. "You do it."
Sydney opened the foil wrapper and held it up, inspecting the condom. In two seconds, he was going to get out of bed and bend her over. He sure in the hell could fuck standing up with one hand.
"Flip it over. Roll it on me." His jaw ached from the torture of waiting.
His gut tightened the closer she came. He let his head fall back and stared at the ceiling. If he watched. If he felt. It'd be over before it started, and when he blew his first shot, he'd turn around and want another because he needed her tonight.
Four years of celibacy. Even longer than that, because when Sydney was with him, she took all his attention. He couldn't even remember the last chick he'd been with. All he knew was he wanted inside of her. Now.
"Ah, Jesus Christ." His balls tightened in pleasure as her fingers rolled the condom over him.
She stopped. "Did I hurt you?"
"No." He grunted, holding his breath. "Get back on my lap."
She never hesitated, only kept glancing at him, making sure she was doing everything right. She couldn't do anything wrong. It was her that he wanted. Not his hand, not her hand, he wanted to sink in her warmth and feel her heat squeeze the life out of him.
Sydney straddled his lap. He put his hand on her hip. There was no easy way to do this without her knowing what she was supposed to do.
"Get up on your knees and use your hand to put my cock on your pussy." His own hand trembled on her hip. It'd been a long time. It'd been forever waiting for Sydney.
Her breasts through her shirt brushed his cheek as she raised up. He turned his head and sucked on her nipple through the fabric. She shivered, and he pulled his mouth away.
He gazed down between their bodies. She hovered over him, holding his cock. He pulsed in her hand. "I should be the one—"
"No, I can do it." She puckered her lips, exhaling harshly.
The amount of determination and strength in her made him proud. He'd done everything to take that away from her when he believed she'd betrayed him, to strip her of what made Sydney a survivor, and she'd rallied, matured, and forgave him.
His hand tightened on her hip, pressing her down until the tip of his cock became encased in her warmth. "Syd?"
"No, no, I can do it." Her brows pinched the skin above her nose.
Hell yeah, she could do it. He ground his teeth together. But, she shouldn't have to take her own virginity.
She let go of his hardness, placed her hands on his shoulders, and looked him in the eyes. Without flinching, she lowered herself onto him, piercing whatever emotional and physical barrier that no man had ever touched. Buried deep inside of her, his heart pounded, and he wrapped his good arm around her, holding her still against his chest.
That's all he needed.
He came hard and fast with her in his arms, and her warmth surrounded him. Nobody could take that away from him.
Sydney wrapped her arms around his neck. Her body relaxed and stayed still. He closed his eyes, rubbing her back.
That wasn't the way he'd wanted to have sex with her the first time. Whenever he'd played his plans in his head, he'd had use of his hand. He'd imagined the moment so many times while locked behind bars, he'd half convinced himself that they'd already fucked.
Instead, reality forced him to sit on the God damn bed and make her take her virginity herself.
SYDNEY OPENED KYLIE's bedroom door and slipped inside. Kylie looked up from hanging her shirts, and Sydney put her finger to her lips.
"What's going on?" whispered Kylie.
"I did it." Sydney pushed away from the door and cornered her sister. "We had sex."
Kylie rolled her eyes. "Sis, I've been around the Brikken members for almost a year. I already knew that was going to happen when Jett returned. You knew it would happen, too, and I remember you saying...and I quote, 'I want him so bad.'"
"I know, but it was weird." She glanced behind her afraid Jett would sneak up and hear her. "I had to, you know, do everything. He couldn't because of his hand."
Kylie scrunched her nose. "Stop."
"I just expected it'd be some wild moment." Sydney raised her hands and made quiet explosion noises while wiggling her fingers. "I'd scream. He'd sweat. We'd finish exhausted in a tangle of clothes."
Kylie stepped over and plopped down on the bed. "He can't exactly drag you across the bedroom by your hair and toss you on the bed right now with his hand inju
red."
She chewed her bottom lip. That wasn't what she'd meant.
"I know, but it was almost sad." Her chest tightened. "Like, I wanted to cry because something was off about the whole thing."
"He's been in prison," whispered Kylie. "He's probably got a lot of things he's going through."
"Yeah. Probably," she mumbled.
"Sorry, it wasn't what you wanted." Kylie's gaze softened.
"No, it was. I'm glad that we finally were able to be together-together." She shrugged. "I don't know. I'm overthinking everything."
While Jett had been careful and provided her a way to lose her virginity—and beforehand when he'd used his fingers was fabulous, she couldn't help feeling like he was still punishing her. Which was insane, because he'd already apologized for their misunderstanding over his incarceration.
Jett seemed angry. Whether that was about life, his injury, or her, she had no idea. Until she understood the barrier that was between them and wasn’t there before his imprisonment, she wouldn't be able to know how to go forward.
"Sydney!" said Jett from somewhere else in the house.
She looked at her sister and widened her eyes. Kylie gave her a pout.
"He's looking for me. I better go out there." She walked to the door. "Don't say a word about what I told you."
Kylie snorted. "Who would I tell?"
"Good point." She left the bedroom, knowing Kylie needed more options in her life than babysitting at Brikken Motorcycle Club.
Sydney walked into the living room. "I'm here."
Jett straightened from behind the chair, spotted her, and said, "Where's my fucking duffel?"
"It's in the coat clos—"
"It belongs by the front door." He stalked across the room toward the closet.
"I put it there when I cleaned." She looked around the room.
Jett had been home for twenty-four hours, and nobody could tell that she'd tidied up the place. He'd tossed his dirty shirt on the floor. There were four motorcycle magazines in the chair. Two of the couch pillows were on the floor, and Jett's empty plate left over from lunch sat on the end table.
Jett tossed the duffel on the floor, unzipped the bag, and removed his riding gloves. "Leave my shit there."