Jermy, Marie - Together Forever [The Andersons 1] (Siren Publishing Classic)

by Marie Jermy

  “Relax. I want to undo you, like you do me.”

  I want to undo you, like you do me. Ross’s words strummed through Jessica’s mind. No need to undo her. She was already there. Every hair on her body rose as the rough skin of his fingertips traced delicious twirling circles from her ankles, her calves, the back of her knees, and up to her inner thighs. His breath felt hot through the sheer fabric of her thong.

  Then, when the tip of his nose nuzzled her clit, a jolt of pure joy ripped through her. Oh, boy, she definitely was dessert. He intended to eat her on the table. She moved her hands from her sides to lace her fingers through his hair, but he placed them back on the table. The cloth felt cool under her fingers, but beneath her body it was burning. She wouldn’t be surprised if she left scorch marks once Ross had finished his course.

  For a minute, he did nothing other than nuzzle her clit with his nose. It was soft, gentle, and very relaxing. But then, and still through the sheer fabric, his mouth clamped over her and he licked her with bold, strong strokes of his tongue. He began to hum, adding to the already first tremors of the climax she felt building.

  What on earth was he humming? At first, she couldn’t make it out. It was only when he pulled away and murmured a few bars, that she recognized it as Alice Cooper’s “Poison.” Her giggle melted into a moan when he once again tongued her clit.

  He kept the pressure of his mouth against her clit until she moaned that she was coming. He then turned his head to the right and sucked on the smooth flesh of her inner thigh. His fingers doodled down her left leg, the featherlight circle to the back of her knee producing a low whimper. He returned to her clit, and she rewarded him by crying out his name. But once again, he retreated.

  Jessica was going to have some serious words with Ross once she’d climaxed. That’s if he allowed her to. The man was driving her crazy with his advance and retreat technique. She’d never felt anything as tense in her whole life. Through the drenched thong, his tongue on her clit was like a heat-seeking missile. First licking, then sucking, building the pressure inside her so she was ready to let go, but then he’d withdraw and suck on her inner thigh.

  His hands had moved to cover hers, and when she tried to shake free, to attempt to hold his head right where she wanted it, he just tightened his grip.

  “Do you want me to beg?” she cried, her patience blowing when he once again retreated to her inner thigh.

  “No. Just come undone.”

  “I’m already there.”

  “Mmm, I know.”

  Jessica didn’t have the breath to tell Ross exactly what she thought of his smugness, not when his mouth clamped over her. This time, he didn’t let go until the pressure exploded into a blinding orgasm that shook her whole body and turned her into a mass of wet noodles.

  Her body still shaking, Ross jerked her upright, and kissed her hard. “Can you taste yourself?” he murmured, drawing back slightly.

  “Mmm. Like poison running through my veins.”

  He grinned and swept her off the table into his arms. “And now to bed. Where I can really undo you.”

  His head bent awkwardly as he nuzzled her neck, Ross strode through the dining room doorway to go upstairs, where Jessica nearly wrenched herself from his arms by shooting both hands out and grabbing the doorjamb, holding onto it for dear life.

  “No way, Ross! It’s bad enough you want us to sleep in Williamson’s bed, but to make love there? It would be like…like dancing on the poor woman’s grave. Desecrating her memory.”

  Her horrified expression must have changed Ross’s mind. “Okay, point taken. I’ll take you somewhere else. Let go, Jess.”

  “Call me Jessica. I love that snotty voice of yours.”

  “Snotty? You think I’ve got a snotty voice?”

  “Well, all right, not snotty—commanding. Order me.”

  His lips quirked, but injecting the brusqueness, he calmly and firmly stated, “Jessica, let go of the door.”

  Jessica happily did as ordered, and he carried her through to the spacious living room to their entrance point to the house earlier and laid her on the large red, orange, and yellow, boldly designed rug. She shivered in anticipation at the fierce gleam of lust in Ross’s darkening, sky-blue eyes.

  * * * *

  As Ross took his holster off, he felt a cold draft behind him, like somebody whispering close to his ear. He ignored it, removed the Beretta from the back of his jeans, and placed it within easy reach.

  “Ross?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Undo me.”

  He grinned, relieved Jessica hadn’t commented on the ribbons of ice that fluttered between them. Straddling her thighs, he supported his weight on his forearms and kissed her deeply and languidly, the smell of her cum on his lips hopefully disguising the waft of lavender he now detected.

  His ploy seemed to work because she moaned into his mouth and wound her arms around his neck, her legs moving restlessly against the prison that were his thighs. Then, just like before, the lavender dispersed, and the air grew warm from the heat exchanging between their bodies.

  Ross inched down until his head was level with Jessica’s dainty but perfect breasts. After quickly divesting her of her bra, he gave each pouting nipple a wet lick and blew air over them. He studied them, trying to judge which one had become the most erect. He chose the right nipple and teased it lightly with his tongue.

  He smiled at her frustrated moan. He knew exactly what she wanted. She wanted him to be firmer, but he wasn’t ready to give up on teasing her just yet. He again tongued her right nipple with light licks, then switched to her left one and gave it that the same dastardly treatment.

  “Ross, please…” Jessica groaned, no doubt being slowly driven crazy by what he was doing. Good. That’s what he wanted.

  “You want it, you fight for it.” He glanced up and, feeling extremely satisfied at her scowl, returned to her right nipple and licked it lightly. Hearing her growl, he gave it another light lick then another. Her back arched slightly, but he drew away far enough to give it another light tonguing.

  “Screw you!”

  He laughed and glanced up into her face again. Those amber flecks were flashing fire. Oh, yeah, bring it on. “C’mon, Jessica,” he challenged her in his most commanding voice. “Fight for it.” Her eyes skewered him, then she grabbed his hair and tugged his head down so his mouth was pressed over her right nipple.

  Jessica arched her back, and Ross finally gave her what she wanted. He sucked her deep into his mouth. One hand went to her left breast, and he pinched the tight bud between his thumb and forefinger, making her back arch even farther, and she began writhing against him.

  Her hands moved from his hair, and he felt her fingers tearing at the front of his shirt, no doubt going for the buttons. He rose up, repositioning himself to kneel between her legs, making her task a lot easier. Once undone, he flung the shirt to one side. He returned to lay just above her, lightly rubbing his chest over her breasts, the mat of coarse hair teasing her further.

  “Ross…” she warned.

  He again laughed, so she pinched one of his nipples hard. He got the message. He clamped his mouth around her left nipple and sucked the hell out of it, making her cry out in a mixture of pleasure and pain. Releasing her slightly, his hands drifted down to her thong. Slipping under the saturated, sheer fabric, he slid his middle finger along the moist pussy folds, probing, penetrating.

  “So wet,” Ross murmured as he used his other hand to brace himself above her. He swirled his tongue around her nipple one last time, then moved downwards, stopping briefly to flick his tongue in her belly button, before carrying on, dragging her thong down her legs and removing her heels. While he was down by her feet, he used the opportunity to remove his own clothing and boots.

  “So hard,” she observed as he moved over her, his cock jutting proudly.

  “Only for you, Jessica.”

  “Actually, I was referring to the floor.”

&nbs
p; “Why you…!” He stopped her giggles by crushing his mouth to hers, thrusting his tongue deep in a prelude of what was to come. He kneed her legs farther apart, opening her up wide, one hand moving between them to thumb her clit. Soon, she was bucking and writhing beneath him.

  “Now, Ross, I want you now,” she panted, managing to break free from his kiss.

  He snagged his jeans and removed his wallet. He swore when he saw it was empty of square foil packets. “Damn!”

  “I’m more than halfway through my cycle,” Jessica reminded him.

  “Are you sure?”

  She nodded, and he pressed his cock just inside her pussy hole, still unsure. Her hips arched up, and she circled her hands around onto his ass, pushing him, urging him to go farther. A groan tore from his throat as he burrowed deep, her inner pussy muscles instinctively tightening around him, eliciting erotic sensations he’d never felt before as he began to move.

  Ross took it slow at first, reveling in the feel of her. However, when he looked down into her eyes and saw the amber flecks glowing, he picked up the pace, thrusting in and out, harder, and deeper. She cried out his name and wrapped her legs around his waist, sealing their bodies tight. The intense waves of her climax pulsated all the way down the length of his cock from tip to base, sending him into orbit as his own orgasm shot out of him in a hot stream of never-ending ecstasy. Intergalactic sex was the best.

  Finally spent, and with a loud sigh of satisfaction, Ross rolled onto his back. Lifting his arm, Jessica snuggled into his side, her head on his chest, her breathing in tune with his.

  “Mmm, now that’s what I call undone.”

  She lifted her head to stare up into his teasing eyes. “I love you, Ross. Please tell me you feel the same. If only a little.”

  Sensing the brimming tears were going to burst like a dam, he touched his lips to hers. “Ah, Jess. I never stopped loving you. I will always love you. I…”

  “But? There is a but, isn’t there?” she asked, quietly.

  He propped himself up on one elbow. “You, um…You broke my—” He stopped himself just in time. He still couldn’t admit that she’d broken his heart. “You’re Carrick’s half sister. I can’t get it out of my head. It’s all I can think about.”

  Her eyes flashed with something other than love. She even ignored the lights, which had begun to flicker again. “Really? Yet you still managed to get a hard-on. Still managed to screw me. Did you do it to improve your bedroom skills? Your undoing skills? Were you going to make notes and compare me with the next woman you undid?”

  Her cutting remarks riled him. He shrugged nonchalantly. “Yeah, if you like.”

  “So this is payback!” Furious beyond further words, Jessica snatched up her underwear and heels and stormed from the room, Ross’s parting shot, “And ain’t it a bitch!” twisting the knife further.

  * * * *

  It was only when Jessica stood before the mirror of the downstairs bathroom, her hands gripping the sleek, white porcelain sides of one of the his ‘n’ hers wash basins that her anger dissolved into floods of tears.

  He’d stopped himself from saying it, but she knew that she had broken his heart. And now, he’d broken hers.

  What had Ross said before they’d made love for the first time? “We are doing the right thing, taking our friendship to the next level.” What a joke! Only she wasn’t laughing. Where did they go from here? There was no turning the clock back. No pretending it hadn’t happened. There was only one way to go, and that was forward. But how?

  Despite her broken heart, her feelings hadn’t changed. She still loved Ross to the point of eternity. Still wanted to become his wife. No, it was Ross who had a problem. And as problems go, it was a big one. He’d said he’d never stopped loving her and would always do so, yet he was reluctant to pledge his whole life to her.

  Why? She didn’t believe it had anything to do with her being Sam’s half sister. That was crap. She knew it. Ross knew it.

  So what was his problem? Something warm and sticky trickled down Jessica’s leg. Well, it wasn’t that Ross was afraid of getting her pregnant. She’d seen the disappointment etched on his face when she’d told him it was safe. Even felt disappointment herself. Which in turn presented another problem. She would love to have a baby with Ross, but it wouldn’t be fair to him, her, or their child, when she was up to her neck in debt.

  Money? Jessica grabbed some tissues from the box on the counter and blotted at the creamy fluid. Were her debts Ross’s problem? She rejected the idea even as it entered her head. Ross had offered to loan her money. Even, albeit jokingly, wanted to buy half of Magnum Investigations. And though she’d said he couldn’t afford it, she felt certain he could.

  Because of her father’s close friendship with Ross Senior and his wife, Jess, she knew her father had set up trust funds for Ramona, Samantha, and Matt upon their respective births. So why not Ross, too? It made no never mind to her father that Ross was born before he even knew him. Her father was as close to Ross as he was to Daniel. Maybe closer. Daniel had never expressed an interest in Magnum Investigations, so she could well imagine her father’s joy if Ross bought into half the agency. So, no, money was not the problem.

  Then in a blinding flash of inspiration, it dawned on her. Ross’s problem was that he was scared. Scared to admit he didn’t want his heart broken all over again the next time she broke things off with him. There wasn’t going to be a next time, though. Surely, Ross knew that? Or was he really a moron? Was his skull too thick for her words of love and reassurance to sink in? Maybe she should bang them into him.

  The countless images “banging” conjured up made her smile. She binned the sticky tissues and put her underwear and heels on. Turning the cold faucet on, she splashed water over her face, her mind set firmly on what she was going to say to Ross to convince him he had nothing to worry about.

  At first, Jessica couldn’t hear the thudding above her head over the running water. She only heard it when it became louder. She turned the faucet off and looked up at the ceiling. It sounded like somebody pacing back and forth on the hardwood flooring of the bedroom above. The Williamsons’ bedroom. The one she and Ross were going to sleep in.

  She mentally reasoned it was Ross. He’d certainly been in as angry a mood as she had been. He’d obviously gone upstairs and was venting his anger out on the floorboards.

  She turned and took the fluffy towel from the rack on the wall. As she wiped her face dry, the light above her flickered and a rush of cool air swirled around her ankles, creeping slowly up and around her body, until a strong gust parted her hair that had been hanging straight down her back to over each shoulder.

  Then, softly, from behind her, a voice said, “Jess-see-cah.”

  She spun around.

  And there, lined up on the counter, were ten bloodied fingertips.

  Jessica opened her mouth and screamed.

  Chapter 15

  Ross sat on the rug, cursing and congratulating himself on being a prick. Again. He hadn’t meant to say what he’d said. Hadn’t meant to sound so cruel. And he certainly couldn’t give a damn that Jessica was Carrick’s half sister. Like she’d said, Carrick was a lifetime ago.

  Too afraid to admit he was protecting his broken heart was the only excuse he had. A piss-poor excuse at that. What kind of a man was he to put his own bruised and battered feelings before those of a woman? A woman he loved. The only woman he would ever love. Together forever! If he wasn’t careful, he’d lose Jessica for good. If he hadn’t done so already.

  He had to make things right. But how? Saying sorry was definitely not enough. And considering he’d told her he didn’t ask twice, dropping down to one bended knee and flashing the engagement ring to propose would make him a hypocrite. As big a hypocrite as he was a prick. Maybe the only way was to make good on his promise and protect her life, even if it meant sacrificing his own.

  He reached for his clothes and boots. He’d just tied the laces and tucked the Be
retta down the back of his jeans, when a scream, and a bloodcurdling one at that, sent a finger of fear down his spine and twisted his guts into knots.

  Jessica!

  Snatching up his Magnum, Ross bolted from the room and smacked straight into Jessica, sending her flying. She landed just inside the dining room doorway, her head hitting the tiled floor with a thud.

  He was beside her in a flash, easing her to her feet and gently probing his fingers through her hair and over her scalp. Thankfully, there was no blood or lumps and bumps. He did notice one thing, though—her eyes, wide and wild with fear. He rubbed his hands over her shoulders, and noted an iciness to her skin, like she’d just jumped into a cold bath, only she was bone dry.

  “Jess, sweetheart, you’re freezing. What have you been doing? And why’d you scream?” She made a strangled sound, shook her head, then crumpled to the floor. He hauled her back to her feet. “Answer me! Goddamn it!” She clung onto his shirt, her knuckles white, her breathing coming out in quick pants, making it difficult to understand her. “Jess, calm down and breathe. In. Out. In. Out. That’s it,” he encouraged when her breathing settled slightly. “Now, start again.”

  “Fing…fingers. Ten. Blood.”

  Just then a deafening rumbling buckled the floor beneath his feet, rattled the china on a nearby cabinet, and swung the hanging chandelier, causing their bulbs to blink on and off. “Are we having an earthquake?” he asked, stunned.

  But not half as stunned as he was to see the apparition that appeared behind Jessica. He had to be seeing things. He definitely needed to book an appointment with an optometrist. Either that or attend an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting.

  “Bloody fingertips. Ten of them. On the counter in the downstairs bathroom.”

  “What?” he asked, only half listening.

  “Ross, please!” she screeched, tugging on his shirt in order to regain his attention. However, it remained fixed on something behind her. She turned around and again screamed.

  The owner of those ten bloodied fingertips was approaching them. Advancing. Menacing. Like death.