My body thrums with pleasure and I cry out when I come. I’m falling and tumbling and I surrender totally to it.
I know nothing.
I feel no one.
I only exist in this amazing bubble of ecstasy.
And then Jett roars, “Fuck!” He thrusts hard one last time and his body tenses as he orgasms.
His roar pierces through my bubble and I’m alert again. And I’m exhausted. The pleasure has ripped through my body, using up every last drop of energy I had in me. I let go of him and he pulls out and collapses onto the bed beside me.
My eyes flutter shut and I begin to drift off into sleep. I try to fight it, but I can’t.
The last thing I hear is, “I love you.”
I love you, too.
26
Presley
As I roll over in the bed, I stretch and reach for Jett, but the bed is empty. I crack my eyes open and look around the room. He’s not here. I check the bedside clock and see it’s nearly nine in the morning. Shit, I’ve slept late. I push the covers off and go in search of him.
A couple of minutes later, I’ve looked everywhere and my heart sinks when I realise he’s already left.
No note.
No goodbye.
And I’ve got no idea where he is or what he’s doing today.
It’s the first time since we met that I don’t know this information.
I want to know these things.
Hell, I want to know everything to do with Jett.
I want him in my life.
I want him.
The realisation I don’t want to fight him anymore about dating hit me a little while ago, but this new understanding of what he means to me and how much I want to be around him, hits me now.
I rush into my bedroom to grab my phone, and dial him straight away. He doesn’t answer so I try again. And again. After three attempts with no answer, I give up and send him a text asking him to let me know he’s okay. He certainly wasn’t okay when he arrived here last night.
Dropping the phone onto my bed, I trudge into the bathroom for a shower. I’m tired after last night. Jett wore me out with sex and then he tossed and turned all night, keeping me awake pretty much the whole time. Thank God I have no plans for today; long naps sound good at this point.
As I step into the shower, my phone rings and I immediately bolt back into my bedroom to answer it.
It’s Jett. “Hi,” I say.
He takes his time but finally says, “Hi.”
His tone makes me nervous. It’s as if he doesn’t want to be on the phone with me. “Where are you? I missed you this morning.”
The only sound is that of his long sigh, and then – “Sorry, sweetheart,” he murmurs so softly I almost can’t hear him. “I needed some time…”
Frowning, I ask, “Time for what?”