I make some sort of weird noises. I groan like a set of bagpipes at the sight of it.
Wanting to reach right over and touch it. Touch all of him
Have him touch all of me.
But oh no! You want to take things slow, don’t you?
Far from being embarrassed, Jett even leans back a little, shooting me a sultry look that even I can interpret.
‘See what you’re doing to me? All I wanted was one little kiss that would never end once it started… but if you need to slow down. We can do that…’
Dammit!
“Have you eaten yet?” he asks, catching me off guard and putting me totally off the subject of his giant cock.
I exclaim with another, more human groan that I haven’t.
“Me either, and I’m starving,” he admits casually, shifting the whole mood without any effort.
He’s also not bothering to hide his obvious arousal, with my own need running at near boiling point.
My need for food is a close second now that he mentions it.
“I’m not waiting until dinner,” he says, lowering his head so he can see where we are better.
“I know a nice, quiet place. We can grab… brunch?” he asks, glancing at his watch before letting our driver know where to take us through the intercom.
A watch I can tell at a glance is worth more than this car and the ten on either side of it.
I swallow loudly.
If Jett and his limo, his priceless watch, and everything else he has as ‘normal’ for one day is this. Then how the hell is someone like me gonna blend in, let alone factor into it all?
“It’s a deli,” he tells me, setting my mind at ease with three words.
“I’m not all bright lights and—” he starts but stops himself.
“I’m not all… this,” he finally says, making a sweeping motion with his hand and eyes.
Not just the limo or the watch either, the whole world beyond that.
He’s not just the Jett Masters I see on TV is what he means, and I get it.
He’s flesh and blood too.
Maybe even some real emotions down in there…
It’s hard to put into words, but in a single moment we kinda just click in a way that’s more than just me being stunned by his good looks and charm.
More than me wondering what an older hot guy like Jett could possibly see in me.
It’s suddenly just Jett and Penelope, grabbing a bite to eat.
It makes me smile and I know I’ll remember this moment too. Forever.
Mainly because it’s the first time in my whole life I’ve actually felt safe with anyone.
Safe enough to be myself.
Safe enough in the knowledge I’m not gonna get yelled at or be the butt of a joke. I have a moment of guilt, chiding myself for even doubting Jett. But it’s only because, I mean, really. Can one man have it all and still be genuine, still be nice?
Yeah.
Yeah, they can. And Jett is all that and more.
I don’t tell him so. Not yet.
Don’t want his head getting bigger than it probably already is, but it’s just such a nice feeling.
I already don’t want the day to end.
The limo takes a sharp corner and I can feel the road giving way to gravel before we come to a gentle stop.
I can see the back of some buildings through the tinted windows, and Jett seems to take a moment, letting the dust settle before he opens the door.
“I usually have to go around the back,” he explains.
“Not every time?” I ask.
“No. Not everywhere. Not every time. But today I want no interruptions,” he says, holding out his big hand which I gladly accept as he helps me out of the equally big car.
Everything about Jett and his world makes me feel smaller, which for a girl my size isn’t such a bad thing, I’m realizing.
A big man needs a bigger version of everything, but like my body next to his, my hands are tiny in comparison.
Walking in through the back of a busy kitchen, it’s clear everyone knows Jett.
But as a favorite customer, not as a magician or illusionist.
“So good to see you again, Jett. Always glad when you’re in town,” a half dozen voices greet him. All smiling.
All as impressed by seeing him and being near him as I am.
The whole place smells divine, and in moments we’re seated in a quiet booth out of the public eye, but with a window view that lets us see the city streets and people passing by in privacy.
“I’m having my usual,” Jett says, beaming at the proud owner, who raises his brows in question to me.
“I… I. Umm…”
I have no idea what they even serve here, but if it’s good enough for Jett, it’s good enough for me.
“Make it two,” I squeak, and they both chortle with amusement.
“You sure?” Jett asks, a tone of caution in his voice which makes me even more determined.