Jett

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Jett Page 21

by Sawyer Bennett


  But I wasn’t prepared for his anger. His subtle threat that he wasn’t leaving until he saw Felicity, which Jett thankfully squelched. The worst thing that happened was when Jett’s protection of me led to Shane’s last angry outburst—the fuck you—before he stomped off, and that changed everything.

  It brought me right back to the time that Shane lost control and hit me. While I’m not fearful of him in that way, I am fearful he’s going to make this a war when it comes to visitation of our daughter.

  I felt pressed down into the dirt by the weight of the problems I was facing. I knew I had a major fight coming and that my daughter was going to get caught in the middle no matter how hard I tried to shield her. That’s because Felicity wants to see her dad, and I’m sick to my stomach thinking how to break this stuff to her. I know I’ll need help, so I’ll be calling Nora tomorrow. I want to move quickly to get her into therapy so she has resources other than me and Jenna to help her.

  When the door shut behind Shane, all of those problems were pushed to the side as I considered Jett and what my mind now perceived as a complication. The fact that I have major responsibilities in my life, that I don’t think I can be stretched any thinner having one more. While Jett is caring, funny, loyal, and steadfast, I feel such an obligation to give him my best that I already feel as if I’m failing.

  I told him I needed a break.

  Room to breathe.

  Time to think.

  In reality, I didn’t want to worry about him. I didn’t want to have to feel guilty if I couldn’t come to his condo to stay the night because Felicity was having a hard time. I didn’t want to have to tell him I couldn’t have lunch with him because I had to get documentation against Shane together for my lawyer. I most certainly didn’t want to have to cancel plans with Jett because I was so utterly exhausted from dealing with all this crap.

  I was afraid of failing him.

  I was afraid of failing myself.

  Of course, it didn’t take long for me to step back from the situation and reconsider my line of thinking. It certainly didn’t hurt focusing me when Jenna called me a dumbass after I told her I wanted a break. Felicity had long been asleep and Jenna was just waiting to pounce on me.

  She was actually kind of a bitch about it, but her words had impact. “You sent Jett packing because you’re trying to simplify things and stay away from complications, and that’s ironic as hell, because you’re the one who’s complicated. All the shit you’ve got going on in your life—demanding career, single parenting, ex-husband drug addict—and you’re calling Jett the complication? Hell, he should be the one running in the opposite direction, and yet all he did was say to call him when you were ready. That man is going to wait for you to get your head screwed on straight.”

  I blinked at her in shock.

  Blinked again.

  Opened my mouth to deny.

  Slammed it shut.

  Realized she was right and I was such a jackass for ever daring to insinuate to that beautiful man that he was adding complication to my life.

  I groaned. Cursed at myself. Spouted self-recriminations, and all the while, Jenna nodded along in agreement with me.

  “I’ll go call him,” I’d told her, moving toward the hall with the intent of going to my bedroom for privacy.

  She grabbed my arm, swung me around in the opposite direction, and pushed me toward the door. “You need to go see him. He deserves more than a call.”

  She was right, and now I’m parallel parked on the street outside his building. I didn’t give him a heads up for fear he’d tell me not to come. On the off chance he’s become pissed at me in the last few hours, I knew he’d feel obligated to let me up if I came without advance notice.

  I grab my phone and tap his number in my Favorites contact list. He answers before the second ring. “Hey.”

  “Hey,” I say, hating that my breath sounds a bit shaky. “I was wondering if I could see you.”

  “Tonight?” he asks in confusion.

  “Yes, if that’s alright.”

  “Want me to come to you?” he asks, ever the gentleman, and the squeeze on my heart lessens considerably.

  “Actually… I’m outside your building.”

  He told me to come into the underground garage he’d previously given me the code to. I had not done that directly as it seemed intrusive when I was the one calling the break, but I feel even lighter of heart at the invitation.

  When I make it to his floor and his door is in sight, my heart starts thundering. When he opens it up, he leans against the jamb, hands tucked into his pockets casually, and watches me walk toward him.

  My face heats as I get closer, because while I couldn’t begin to guess the myriad of emotions he might be feeling, I’m shocked that what I’m seeing now is hunger and need in his eyes.

  I’m also affected.

  Like, everywhere.

  It’s been way too long since we’ve had true alone time and I tingle from the top of my head to the tips of my toes.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” I ask him softly when I’m a mere few feet away.

  His eyes roam down my body slowly, one side of his mouth pulling up into a lazy smile before meeting my gaze head-on. “You here to tell me you’ve reconsidered?”

  “I am,” I reply simply, figuring he might pull me in for a kiss. We’d sit on the couch for a bit so I could profusely apologize then we could make up in a delightful way. Based on his demeanor, I know there’s no way we’re not making up.

  Not that we really broke up. I just asked for a break and I think two hours is sufficient.

  But Jett shocks me into an embarrassing yelp when he steps into the hall, bends at the waist and puts his shoulder to my stomach. I go up and over him into a fireman’s carry and he turns, careful my head doesn’t hit the jamb.

  Gracefully, he steps over his threshold and when we’re clear, kicks his foot back to shut the door.

  There’s no hesitation.

  He doesn’t go to the couch but stalks around it and moves into his bedroom with deliberation. I start to squirm as he heads toward the bed, but it’s short-lived as he dumps me there.

  I bounce once before his body comes down on me and then his mouth descends. I react quickly, putting my hand over it to stop him. His eyebrows rise.

  “Am I forgiven for being so stupid?” I ask.

  He responds by baring his teeth and biting the palm of my hand, not enough to hurt, but enough to make me snatch it back.

  Then his lips are on mine, his tongue is in my mouth and I think I know what the answer is.

  I am forgiven.

  I don’t know how it happens. One moment we’re clothed, and the next we’re naked. Jett straddles my hips, legs spread, and his palms resting on his thighs as he looks down at me. It’s lewd and beautiful at the same time, especially with his thick cock at erect attention right over my belly.

  Without hesitation, I take it in hand and squeeze at the base, pulling along the length. Jett’s head tips back and he groans in pleasure. I continue to stroke him and his eyes come back to me, blistering with need. His hips rotate and flex, helping me stroke him. There’s a rumbling in his chest, an indication to me that he won’t take much more of this.

  He’s so fucking perfect.

  “Get on your back,” I mutter, releasing his shaft and pushing at his stomach. His muscles tighten but he doesn’t move. In fact, his body is entirely still as he stares down at me.

  “I want my mouth on you, Jett,” I explain and a muscle twitches in his jaw.

  “Now,” I order, and he rolls off me quickly, coming to rest flat on his back.

  Laughing, I roll to follow his trajectory, but come up to rest on my knees. Shifting closer, I place a hand on his belly, loving the way his muscles jump under my touch. My hand closes around his erection once more and as I start to bend over him, he sucks in a lungful of air.

  My mouth closes around the head of his cock, and it all comes whooshing out i
n a big gust of relief mixed with a need for more.

  I give him more, taking him in deep and sucking hard on the backstroke.

  “Christ,” he mutters, his hand going to my hair. I feel his fingers slide through, curl, and then grasp hard to hold me in place.

  He doesn’t have to worry.

  I’m not going anywhere.

  ♦

  Our breathing returned to normal, legs entwined and my head on his chest, Jett seems comfortable with the silence. The steady glide of his fingers back and forth against my hip has me getting drowsy.

  Yet I’m not comfortable staying silent. I came here to talk.

  Now, I don’t mind what we did. I’ll never regret pulse-pounding orgasms or watching pleasure etch across his face.

  But we need to talk.

  “I’m sorry,” I say, busting into the silence of the room.

  “For what?” he asks, and I can hear the humor in his tone.

  “For being stupid,” I admit to him. “As Jenna put it plainly, I was the one running from you and you should have been running from me and my special brand of crazy.”

  Jett snorts and his hand tightens on my hip. “I really, really like your sister. Did I ever tell you that?”

  “You actually have,” I remind him. He’s said it to me on more than one occasion, having grown close to Jenna as he’d done Felicity.

  “I didn’t think I could handle everything. I felt I’d be failing you because I have so much other stuff to deal with, and that it would be better to…”

  My words trail off and I tip my head to look up at him. “I have no clue why I thought it would be better by pushing you away for a bit. I have no clue why I didn’t accept your offer of strength.”

  “You were scared,” he says simply. “And you’re proud.”

  I lay my head back down on his chest and nod. “I guess.”

  “And you’re not anymore.” His voice is low, rumbling but gentle.

  “I’m still scared, but I’m not stupid anymore,” I reply with a nervous laugh.

  “Only took you a few hours to get unstupid,” he commends me. “That’s probably a record in the history of breakups.”

  “We didn’t break up,” I remind him with a poke to the ribs and he jerks to the side. “I just wanted to take a break. Big difference.”

  “So you say.” His voice is languid in dismissal of our difference of opinion.

  It goes quiet again and his fingers start stroking my hip. The sensation is soothing and my eyes start to get heavy. “You forgive me, right?”

  “I gave you an orgasm, didn’t I?” he quips.

  “Two,” I remind him. “Am I forgiven?”

  Jett doesn’t answer me right away and my heart starts thudding with fear. Had I misread all of this? Was this just another roll in the hay for him before we part ways?

  I lift my head so I can look at him. I need to be able to read his expression along with any words he chooses to give. “Am I forgiven?” I repeat, enunciating my words a little more profoundly.

  His eyes slide my way, his expression relaxed. He reaches his other hand across his body, touches his fingers to my jaw before sliding his hand to the back of my neck to squeeze me there. “I love you. There’s nothing to forgive.”

  For a moment, I get dizzy.

  Like the room spins and my breath hitches and my palms immediately turn sweaty. I wasn’t expecting that. Never crossed my mind.

  And yet, the minute he gives me those words I know they are so perfect and precious that while I may not have seen it coming, I was ready to hear it.

  “I love you,” I reply softly.

  Because really… what else could I say.

  Except this. “I think that’s why I got unstupid so fast. Because I love you and I knew you were the best kind of complication I could ever hope for in my life. The moment you said those words to me, I knew it was true about myself.”

  Jett leans over and kisses me. “I knew it tonight. It came to me when you told me I was nothing like Shane.”

  “You’re not,” I rush to reassure him.

  He shakes his head, indicating I’m not understanding him. “You told me that I’m different from Shane because I’d never let anything rule my life the way Shane lets drugs rule his.”

  “That’s right, and—”

  “You rule my life, Emory,” Jett says softly but his words slice right through my thoughts and I fall silent. “I realized that the moment you said those words, and that’s how I knew I loved you. And because I knew I loved you, I was willing to give you a break. But I wasn’t going to let it go on long. I’m glad you got unstupid and decided to keep the brand of complication I bring to your life.”

  “God, how did I get so lucky to get you,” I gush, knocking his hand away from my face and lurching up. In a swift move, I’m straddling his hips and kissing him hard.

  I can feel him grow hard under me and I press down to rub against him. He groans and then I’m flipped onto my back.

  Grinning down at me, eyes alight with mischief and promises, he says, “How about I show you all the ways you got so lucky to have me?”

  “Deal,” I exclaim and open my mouth to accept his kiss again.

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  About the Author

  New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal Bestselling author Sawyer Bennett uses real life experience to create relatable stories that appeal to a wide array of readers. From contemporary romance, fantasy romance, and both women’s and general fiction, Sawyer writes something for just about everyone.

  A former trial lawyer from North Carolina, when she is not bringing fiction to life, Sawyer is a chauffeur, stylist, chef, maid, and personal assistant to her very adorable daughter, as well as full-time servant to her wonderfully naughty dogs.

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