Be The One (Crave #2)

by Nina Levine

  “Presley, you’ve gotta know how sorry I am, baby. I had some bad news and I completely lost track of everything while trying to deal with it.”

  She softens a little at my explanation and says, “Go on.”

  I take this as an invitation to move closer to her and she doesn’t halt me in my progress but rather continues to watch me intently, keen for me to elaborate. My need to touch her is so out of control that I can’t stop myself. I reach out and try to take hold of her waist but I misjudge it and take hold of her shirt instead. She doesn’t stop me so I keep hold while I talk. “I found out today that my share portfolio took a hit and I lost about thirty percent of its value so I’ve just spent the last three hours going over it with my financial guy. I’m sorry I let you down, but I was so thrown by the whole thing that I wasn’t thinking straight.”

  “Shit, I’m sorry, Jett.” Her hand covers mine that is holding her shirt and her touch instantly calms me a little. The only other person in this world who is able to calm me like that is Claudia.

  “Pretty much all my money is tied up in those shares so it freaked me the fuck out for a moment there,” I admit, laying my insecurity out for her like I wouldn’t for anyone else. I need her to understand why I blew her off, though, and if this is the only way to do it, then so be it.

  “Did you guys come up with a plan?” she asks as she takes a step in my direction.

  My natural instinct in this moment is to pull her close now that she’s signalled her retreat from being pissed at me, but I play it cool and let her come to me. Easier said than fucking done because although she took a step, she didn’t take another, and I just want her to take those next two steps and wrap her arms right around me. Fuck, I want my lips on hers, and my hands on her ass, but I rein in my desire and focus on allowing her to take control of this.

  “Yeah, we’ve gone through it all, and he’s advised me of what he thinks I should do and I’ve agreed to that, but shit, it’s fucking hard to think about the loss from today. I just hope to hell the market doesn’t crash further.”

  “I hope so, too.” Her words leave her mouth as she takes one more step.

  The anticipation rushes through me and I feel like a fucking junkie craving a fix. I don’t think I can hold myself back much longer. If she doesn’t take that last step soon, I’m going to lose my cool.

  She takes the last step and I exhale when her arms slide around my waist and end up planted on my ass. Her lips come to mine for a moment and then she feathers kisses down my neck, causing my dick to jerk.

  “Fuck,” I groan, needing more and trying like hell not to rip her clothes off. For once in my life, I’m trying to let someone else have the control.

  “Is that a ‘fuck, keep going’ or a ‘fuck, stop’?” she murmurs against my neck while her hand moves over my ass.

  “That’s a don’t-you-fucking-stop fuck,” I say and move my hand to her breast. “I’m so fucking sorry I sent you that text tonight. My head was out of the game for a moment there.”

  She undoes my jeans and takes hold of my cock. “Do you think you can get your head back in the game long enough to fuck me?”

  And I’m done.

  My restraint comes crashing down and I sweep her off her feet and carry her into the bedroom. Throwing her down on the bed, I pull my shirt off and rip my jeans and boxers down. My eyes meet hers and I growl, “My head’s back in the game one hundred fucking percent. You want me to fuck you? Just try to stop me.”

  I kneel on the bed over her and pull her to a sitting position. A moment later, I’ve got her shirt and bra off and am working on her shorts. We frantically work together to get them off and when she’s naked, I tell her how tonight’s going to go down. “Tonight you’re gonna ride my face.”

  Her eyes blaze with lust and she nods before kissing me. Her tongue plays with mine and there’s an angry feel to it. She’s forgiven me for sending that text, but hell, if she wants to take her lingering anger out on me, I’m down with that.

  I let her end the kiss and then I ask, “You still pissed at me, sweetheart?”

  Her eyes stare into mine. “Kind of. I don’t want to be, but I am.”

  She gives me the honesty I love from her and I take hold of her hair and pull her head back with it. “First you ride me, then you fuck me however you want. And, baby, the rougher the better,” I say with force.

  I watch her take that in, and the moment I see the switch in her mind flip, I know we’re in for some good sex tonight. She takes charge and pushes me back on the bed, my head at the bottom of the bed in the corner. Next minute, she’s standing and positioning her pussy over my face.

  Fuck yes.

  I reach my arms back so I can put them around her hips and hold her to me. Looking up at her from this angle is fucking hot; an eyeful of pussy and ass is any man’s dream. I grab her hips and guide her pussy along my tongue, and she begins a rhythmic grind on my face as I bury my tongue in her, reaching deep in her core.

  The soft moans coming from her lips begin to turn into louder, more urgent moans, and she starts grinding harder and faster. I grip her tight and push my tongue in further, and she cries out my name. My dick is so goddamn hard, and hearing her scream out my name only gets me harder. I move one of my hands from her hip and give myself a tug.

  “Fuck, Jett, keep pulling. I wanna see you come while you’re eating me,” Presley begs, and I almost orgasm at her words.

  All my senses are in overdrive as I jack off while she rides me and watches it all. My orgasm is so close but I’m trying like hell to prolong it. I want to get her off before I come. We keep up this pace for a couple more minutes until she shudders and comes, crying out my name again. And then I’m done. I orgasm and it’s the best goddam orgasm I’ve had in a long fucking time. Presley’s pussy is still on my mouth and my hand is still gripping her hip, and I’m the happiest asshole in the world.

  A mouth covered in my woman’s sweet taste and the sounds of her pleasure ringing in my ears... what else could a man ask for?

  5

  Presley

  The smell of coffee and the warm rays of sun hit me as I open my eyes. Rolling over, I find Jett sitting on the side of the bed smiling down at me, holding a coffee in one hand and a brown paper bag in the other.

  “Morning, sweetheart,” he greets me.

  “Morning.” My eyes drop to the coffee. “Is that a hazelnut - ”

  His lips meet mine and he cuts me off with a kiss. “With vanilla, yes.” He passes me the coffee and then adds, “I have croissants if you want them.”

  I sit up in the bed and put my free arm around his neck and kiss him again. “I think I might keep you around for a bit longer.”

  The sheet has dropped, baring my naked breasts, and Jett can’t help himself. He cups one of my breasts and rolls the nipple between his fingers. It feels so damn good and I close my eyes. When a soft moan escapes my lips, he chuckles. “You might not have any say in that. When I decide I’m going to have something, I don’t let anything get in my way.”

  I open my eyes and raise my brows. “Oh, really? And you’ve decided on this already?”

  His eyes hold mine, his gaze so intense I feel it in my core. The playfulness has disappeared completely and while I love fun, playful Jett, I’ve decided I can’t get enough of intense, holy-fucking-hell-he-wants-me-bad Jett.

  Leaning his face close to mine, he speaks in a tone that leaves no confusion, “Yes, I’ve already decided on this. I want you, Presley, and I’ll do anything in my power to have you.”

  My entire body hums with desire. Hearing a man say those words to you is a heady trip. The independent side of me battles with the side that wants a man to desire me and make me his number one priority in life. Miss Independent loses out and I close the distance between our lips and kiss him with the passion he stirs in me. “I want you, too, Jett.”

  His hand has left my breast and now cups my cheek. Rubbing his thumb over my lips, he says, “Thank fuck for that
.” Then he stands and looks at me with what seems to be regret. “I have to head into the studio. What are your plans for today?”

  “I think I might do something mindless today. Maybe catch up on some TV or read a book.” I take a sip of the coffee he brought me, and thank the heavens for sending me a man who makes it a point to know what I love.

  “You free tonight? Tom’s organised a dinner for the band, and I’d love you to come.”

  “Maybe you should go on your own if it’s for the band.”

  “No, I want you there. Besides, Van seems to like you, so I’m hoping you’ll put him in a good mood.”

  “Oh, so really you’re just using me,” I tease him.

  He grins. “Baby, I’d use you twenty-four hours of the day if I could swing it.”

  “I’ll be there. Now go, before I try to tackle you and make you have sex with me.”

  “Fuck me, the things that come out of that pretty little mouth of yours,” he mutters with a shake of his head. He bends and rests his hands on the bed while he kisses me. “I’ll swing by and pick you up at eight for dinner. Yeah?”

  “Yeah,” I say softly, happiness swirling through me. I’m beginning to really settle into this relationship with Jett and am already looking forward to spending time with him tonight. The only thing causing me concern is that I still haven’t talked with him about the job offer from Diesel. I decide to do it after dinner tonight. The sooner we get that conversation out of the way, the better.

  * * *

  Three hours later, I’m engrossed in an episode of Nashville. Best show on TV, in my opinion, and I almost miss the sound of my phone ringing. Pausing the TV, because I can’t miss one freaking moment of watching Deacon on that show, I reach for my phone and frown at the private number listed as calling. Usually I don’t answer calls if I don’t know who it is, but today I’m in a good mood and decide to give them a go. It’s probably some phone company trying to sell me something, but I answer in a friendly voice, “You’ve got thirty seconds to convince me not to hang up.”

  A deep chuckle resonates through the phone and for a moment, I’m caught off guard and my tummy flutters. That’s one damn sexy chuckle. But it isn’t Jett so I get myself together as the guy speaks. “Darlin’, if you gave me thirty seconds of your time in person, I could do things that would blow your mind and convince you of a lot more than never wanting to hang up on me again.”

  His voice slides through me like Kentucky Fire Bourbon – smooth, wicked and oh so hot. Whoa, I bet this man melts panties wherever he goes. “Keep talking, you’ve got twenty seconds left.”

  The deep chuckle turns into one of the sexiest laughs I’ve ever heard. “No, I think you should keep talking. I’m lovin’ the hell out of your bossy words.”

  “Who am I talking to?” This conversation has me intrigued, and for the life of me I can’t begin to imagine who he is. Probably a wrong number because I’m not expecting any calls from a man with a voice that causes all the best kinds of sensations in a woman.

  “My apologies, darlin’, I should have introduced myself, but damn, you got me all kinds of distracted. My name’s Diesel.” Diesel, lead singer of the band that carries his name. The band that has offered me the job.

  “How did you get my number?” I demand.

  “I’m not sure I should tell you. Seems to me like you might do serious damage to the person who gave it to me.”

  “Just tell me, otherwise I’m going to assume who it was and hunt him down anyway,” I snap, irritated that he got my number.

  “It was Michael, but go easy on the poor bastard. I wore him down until he gave it to me.”

  I fucking knew it. “So to what do I owe the pleasure of this call then?”

  “And she goes from ballbreaker to ice queen in one second flat . . . baby, you’ve no idea how much that turns me on. Please keep going.”

  Good God, these fucking rockstars. Coming at me like there’s no tomorrow. “Diesel, I presume you’re calling me to discuss your job offer. Can we just keep it to that topic?”

  “Okay, but we’re going to have to meet, because I need to lay eyes on you to see if you’re everything I’m fuckin’ imagining you are.”

  “Does that kind of line work for you often?” It wouldn’t work on me but I bet he has women falling all over him.

  He chuckles again but this time it does nothing for me. “Like you wouldn’t believe, but it’s so much more fun when it doesn’t.” The suggestion in his voice is hard to miss but he has no idea just how little fun it would be to chase me.

  “Let’s get back to the job and I’ll tell you upfront that I haven’t decided whether to take it or not. Michael told me you need an answer soon so I totally get it if you need to find another photographer due to my lack of decision.” I try to keep this businesslike but I have a feeling he’s going to swerve the conversation back to his own agenda.

  “We do need an answer soon. Let’s see if I can’t convince you, but for now, I have another phone call to make. I’ll be in touch soon,” he says and ends the call, confusing the hell out of me.

  I stare at my phone and shake my head. Damn men who think they can click their fingers and make women come running. I’m fairly sure I won’t be taking his job now.

  A knock on the front door distracts me from thinking about Diesel. A couple of moments later, I open the door to discover a guy holding a huge bunch of red roses.

  “You Presley Hart?” he barks out his question.

  “Yes.” I’m wondering how he got through the security downstairs but at the same time am distracted by the gorgeous roses.

  He shoves the flowers at me and says, “Here you go,” before turning and jogging down the hallway to the lift.

  I ignore his rudeness and smile as I look down at the flowers. Jett’s scoring points today with his coffee, croissants and now the flowers. However, my happiness is short-lived. When I open the card to read it, I’m disappointed to discover the flowers are actually from Lennon.

  “Baby, please forgive me. I was wrong about everything and I want us back where we belong – together.”

  This day is slowly turning to shit. I don’t need another smooth-talker to harass me into taking on a job I don’t think I want, and I sure as hell don’t need Lennon messing with my thoughts. I’d just gotten to a place where I was okay with our marriage ending. Hell, I was at a place where I’d finally admitted to myself that he was so wrong for me. And that was a hard place to get to because I’d loved Lennon with my heart and soul and everything else from almost the moment I met him. I wanted the works with him and he broke me when he didn’t love me the same way.

  Damn it, I’m not looking back!

  My life doesn’t include him anymore and I won’t even entertain the thought. I dump the flowers in the bin and text him.

  Me: DO NOT send me flowers anymore. We’re done. And you’re wrong . . . we don’t belong together and never did.

  Once I’ve sent the text, I switch my phone to silent and crawl back onto the couch to continue watching TV. Hopefully, the hot guys on Nashville can distract me all bloody day.

  * * *

  “Do you like it?”

  I smile at Jett and then look back down at the beautiful silver bracelet he gave me on the way to dinner. “I love it, but you didn’t have to get me anything.” The bracelet looks expensive and knowing Jett, I bet it cost a fortune.

  “I wanted to. Hell, the lady at the store was beside herself because I had twenty pieces of jewellery lined up ready to buy for you.” He jerks his chin at Hunter and says, “You can blame him for only getting one thing. He said you’d have a fit if I gave you all that.”

  Oh God. I look at Hunter and express my gratitude, because, seriously, if Jett had turned up with all that jewellery for me, I may have lost my cool. “Thank you, Hunter. It sounds like you know how to woo a woman.”

  Jett rolls his eyes as Hunter laughs and says, “The guy has no idea, Presley. I’m sure he’ll go back on his own a
nd get everything else tomorrow, so be prepared for that.”

  I turn my head quickly to capture Jett’s attention. “Don’t you dare! I won’t be accepting anymore jewellery this week, okay?”

  He shrugs and reaches for the drink in front of him. “No more jewellery. I got it. But that doesn’t mean I can’t find something else to buy you.”

  “Oh my God, Jett, no!”

  His laughter caresses me and once he’s finished his drink, he leans his body closer to mine, his arm across the back of my chair, and murmurs, “I hear you, baby. One present a week, yeah?”

  I turn to him. “Seriously, I just want your time and attention. I don’t need gifts.”

  The smile that lights up his face is magnificent.

  It’s dazzling, and I’m almost blinded.

  Jett’s a master hypnotist and he has me under his spell.

  “You’ve got my attention,” he promises before kissing me and pulling me even deeper into his trance.

  “Hey! You two wanna get a fucking room?” Van yells across the table at us.

  I try to pull away from Jett, but he refuses to end our kiss straight away. Instead, he slowly finishes what he’s doing and reluctantly lets me go before scowling at Van and throwing back, “If I want to kiss my woman, I’ll fucking kiss her. You got a problem with that, you can leave, ‘cause I’m not going anywhere.”

  The two of them face off silently until Tom wades into the conversation. “Jesus Christ, can you two let up for at least a couple of hours so we can all enjoy our dinner? Your arguing is getting tiresome.”

  “Hear, fucking hear!” West toasts his drink to that suggestion and downs half of it in one go.

  “So, did you guys have a productive day in the studio today?” I ask the only question that comes to mind at this point. Anything to try and change the subject.