Jay’s brows furrowed ever so slightly. “How did Julia Roberts and Richard Gere enter the situation?”
I hated that his voice bordered on playful. Hated how it turned me on further. But then again, I fucking loved that he was speaking in playful tones with a twinkle in his eye.
“Um Pretty Woman?” I huffed out. “Please don’t tell me you haven’t seen Pretty Woman, that’s practically criminal.”
The twinkle in his eyes brightened. “Oh, and I wouldn’t want to be criminal,” he teased.
I glared at him even more. “You can’t get out of this by being cute.”
Something moved in his face, then his hand on my thigh tightened. “You’re really calling me cute?”
I rolled my eyes. “Stop. We need to talk about me contributing to this household. Taking over some of the bills.”
His grip on my thigh was still tight, but all twinkle left his eye. His jaw hardened. “You’re not taking over the fucking bills, Stella.”
“Why not, Jay?” I scoffed, moving slightly so I could give him full view of the scowl on my face.
“Because it is my job to take care of you,” he said.
I opened my mouth, ready to talk about the modern woman and how she could take care of herself.
He moved his finger to my lips. “I know you’re successful, strong, independent,” he said before I could speak. “I know you’re capable. And, baby, I love that you want to contribute. Love that you’re that kind of woman. But I’m trying to make you understand what you already give me.” He rubbed his thumb over my bottom lip. “Stella, it feels fucking criminal to have you as mine. To have someone like you want to spend their life with me, knowing what I am. Knowing my past. It’s a fucking gift. Every damn day. And I feel like a crook, a fucking demon for letting you give me so much Allowing you to give me everything without being able to do anything for you that measures up. Giving you this, a house that you turn into a home, clothes that I get to rip off, a bed that I get to fuck you in, that means something to me. It means a lot to me. I know it’s not progressive, doesn’t fit with the times or the fucking rules of how things are supposed to be these days. But in case you haven’t noticed, I’m not a man who follows the rules.”
I opened my mouth ever so slightly to let his thumb in so I could taste it, graze it with my teeth, feel him harden against me and watch desire cloud his eyes.
“Are you going to be okay with that, pet?” he grumbled, his voice thick.
I nodded very slowly, his thumb still in my mouth.
“Good,” he growled.
Then we were up.
“Hands on the arms of the chair,” he ordered.
I complied immediately, licking my lips that were now swollen from his thumb.
Jay’s hands crept up my legs, under my skirt and to the sides of my panties, hooking his thumbs around them and pulling them down. I stepped out of them, my heels still on. My knees shook as his front pressed into my back, his fingers brushing my lips.
“Open your mouth,” he demanded.
Again, I immediately complied.
Once his hands were out of my mouth, they went down, inside. I gasped, gripping the arms of the chair so hard my nails were digging into the fabric.
“This is what you give me, pet,” he murmured in my ear, his fingers still working. “Your sweet pussy, always wet for me. Always hungry.”
His fingers were gone, and I would’ve cried out in protest had I not heard the click of his belt. Jay surged inside without ceremony, filling me.
He didn’t move, not immediately. “Stella, this is what you give me,” he breathed his words into my ear, goosebumps peppering my skin. “You give me fucking heaven. You give me a home.”
Then he moved.
And I did not argue with him about finances again.
Debussy was still playing when we were done. I was still clothed, right down to my shoes, except for my underwear. My body was beautifully spent, and I was sipping on the martini that Jay had made for me while I’d stumbled to and from the bathroom, cleaning myself up. He’d ordered me not to put on anymore panties, and I’d listened. The French doors were open, and the sea breeze mingled with Jay’s scent, our scent.
My eyes were closed, head back against the chair, feeling calm, satisfied and utterly thankful for the risks I’d taken with Jay.
I kept my eyes closed, smiling lazily as a barely there touch brushed the back of my cheek. I froze when Jay lifted my left hand and slid something cold onto my fourth finger. Not letting go, he grasped my wrist and pulled me up gently.