Jett (Arizona Vengeance 10)

“Have they seen Felicity over these last few years that Shane’s been in the wind?” he asks.

I shake my head, my voice heavy with sadness. “No, and that’s something I don’t get. They call maybe once a month to talk to her, but my parents FaceTime her almost every day… even if it’s just to talk for a few minutes. They’re crushed we moved away but they’ll be coming to visit frequently and we’ll go back there. Felicity is really tight with them but Shane’s parents just never really took to being grandparents.”

There’s no stopping it, but without warning a long yawn escapes me and it’s so deep that my eyes water. I feel boneless and secure in Jett’s arms, and the tension I’d been feeling is gone. I could drift into a hard sleep right now, but I don’t want to do that. My time with Jett is so limited, I want to savor every moment.

“Tired?” he asks.

I shake my head in denial, and I know he knows it’s a lie.

“Tell you what,” he says, pushing up from the couch and forcing me off him. The movement has me jolting a bit. “Let’s go to bed.”

“I’m not tired,” I insist again, and now that I’m sitting up straight, I am a bit more refreshed.

“Oh, we’re not going to bed to sleep,” he promises ominously. Nabbing my hand, he pulls me off the couch.

“What are we going to do?” I ask playfully. His answer doesn’t really matter, because whatever it is, it will be good.

Slipping his arms around my waist, he pulls me into his body. Dipping down, he gives me a sensuous kiss and when he pulls back, his eyes are shimmering with promise. “Here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to get naked, okay?”

“Okay,” I agree with a sharp nod of my head.

“And then you’re going to get facedown on my bed.”

“I like this,” I say.

“I’m going to warm up some oil, pour it on your back and give you the best massage you’ve ever had.”

I hum low in my throat. That sounds divine. “But won’t that put me to sleep?” I inquire, knowing it won’t though.

“Not a chance,” he rumbles low, tipping his head and grazing his lips along my neck. “Because I’m going to take some of that oil, and rub it down between your ass cheeks, along your pussy.”

And just like that, my legs practically buckle over his dirty, dirty words. He holds me tight by the waist though.

Bringing his mouth to my ear, he whispers. “And after I finger fuck you to orgasm, I’m going to pull those hips up and slide you right back onto my cock.”

“Shit,” I mutter. “That’s sexy as hell.”

“Then,” he says so softly I barely hear him. He bites gently at my earlobe before licking it. “Then, I’m going to fuck your brains out.”

I’ve never had a man talk dirty to me like that, but just those words have my panties damp and I can feel my pulse thrumming between my legs. I ache for Jett to be inside me.

And just as much, I ache for him to hold me afterward and let me settle into sleep with him at my back.

Yeah… nothing about him is meaningless anymore.

CHAPTER 19

Emory

Felicity squeals in delight from the living room and I wonder what game she and Shane are playing that elicits such exuberance from her. I apply another layer of mascara as I hear her say, “Do it again, Daddy.”

I wince, equally happy Felicity’s having fun with Shane as I am worried this is all just a ruse for a life she can never have with him.

Sticking the wand back into the tube, I recap the mascara and toss it in my basket of makeup, studying myself in the mirror. I actually went a little heavier on my eyeliner, knowing it would make my blue eyes appear lighter than what they are. Against the backdrop of my hair which I’m wearing loose and wavy, as well as the fact I’m wearing my contacts and not my glasses, I admit to myself that I’m hoping Jett likes the way I look. I mean, I already know he likes me with glasses and little to no makeup, so I’m thinking he’ll like this.

Tonight we’re making a statement. I’ve got the Olsson jersey he bought for me and I’ll be attending my first Vengeance game to sit in the fan section with the sole intent of cheering on my man. It makes me almost giddy.

Felicity shrieks from the living room again, and then proclaims loudly, “Magic isn’t real, Daddy.”

I can’t help but smile. I know Shane is doing some lame magic trick with her. He learned several of them when she was about three years old as a means to entertain his daughter and he got pretty good at them. This was ironically during the time he was convalescing from his ski accident and starting his journey toward addiction.