In Their Hearts (Entwined Lovers #3)

Chapter 1

Clay

Fucking. Curvy. Stubborn. Red-headed woman.

A hardness I’ve never known is possible. My husband makes me hard, but not like this. This is on another level. It’s a combination of frustration and horniness.

And I hate it. I want to put this woman over my knee and spank her ass until it’s red.

I’ve never had such strong and immediate feelings as I do for Jolee. To this sassy woman. Who’s stubborn as hell. Asking for help? It’s nonexistent in her vocabulary. I don’t think she has ever asked anyone for help with anything.

I’ve been here since she got released from the hospital—even then—barely leaving. Little did I know that when Derrick told me her life depended on me, I would take that so personally. This was supposed to be a job. Nothing more.

Shit, I’ve barely been working at Knight’s office, and I had no idea what I was running into that day. Sometimes that’s part of the job.

The scene from Platinum Pleasures warehouse plagues my dreams, and I know I’ll never forget the moment Jolee’s lifeless body was shoved into my arms… the noise of the sirens behind me… all a blur yet so vivid. So real.

How will I explain to Matt and Derrick, my bosses, that I crossed the line? Well, I mean, I haven’t. But goddamn, do I want to. More than want to.

I’m a happily married man. Grant and I have been married for five years. He is the love of my life. We have shared women before, but only for a night. One night. Never longer. I’ve never even dreamed of a deeper connection with someone other than my husband.

But Jolee? My heart knows that if I start something with her, it’s not just for a night. Even Grant will want more than a night. But how much more? What do I even want?

Sleep is out of reach. My mind is spinning with thoughts of what it would be like to have her naked, under me… between us.

Fuck.

I scrub my hand over my face and try to keep them from my aching cock. I’ve jerked off more than I can admit in this bed. The desire for my husband and Jolee is too much to resist. The bed feels empty without Grant.

The throb continues to grow. I’m also needy. Needs I have zero strength to ignore.

I unlock my phone screen to flip to a picture of her I’ve captured without her knowing—she’s bent over the kitchen counter—shirt and shorts riding up as she tries to reach for something. That long red hair spilling over her shoulder.

Those thick thighs on display that I’d love to get slick with my precum as I plunge my dick between them. And I can’t even think about how tight her ass would feel.

Has anyone fucked her there? How much work would it take to get deep inside of her?

Shit!

The image throws my control out the door. I spit on my hand, pushing the blanket away, and start to stroke myself. I can’t resist anymore. She’s a temptress even in a single photo.

“Ah.” I gasp. I’m so hard, it’s almost painful. The tip is swollen and sensitive.

My phone vibrates, almost forcing me to drop it. Grant. I swipe to answer it.

“Hey, love.”

“Hi, hun.” It comes out in heavy breaths as I keep stroking myself, trying to slow down this freight train of an orgasm.

“Love,” Grant pauses. I know he’s trying to listen. “What are you doing? Are you being naughty again?”

He likes to watch. I should’ve called him, but it’s like he knew exactly what I’d be doing right now.

“Yes. Sorry… I can’t help it… I don’t have the willpower against her…” I bite my lip, trying to hold back my moans.

“I need to see you. Show me your cock. It’s been too long.”

I fumble with the phone and manage to flip the screen so he can see. My head leans back into the pillow as I arch into my hand. Letting him watch and listen.

There’s no mistaking the slapping, wet noise to hide what I’m doing. Hopefully, Jolee is sleeping. Apartment walls are not soundproof.

“Damn, love. You’re already close. Show me what she’s doing to you. Show me what not having my cock in your ass is doing to you.”

And I do. My cum shoots forcefully from my cock, up my stomach, and almost hits my phone. So much cum. Shot after shot. I feel like it’s not going to end.

“Damn. I wish I were there to lick it all up. What a shame to waste that treat. Do you feel better, love?”

My breaths come out in long gasps, and I try to slow them down. “For a minute. I swear I’ll be hard again soon.”

There’s a long pause.

“What is it, Grant? I know you want to say something?”

“Baby, I love you, but… I need you home. With me and in our bed.”

I knew this was coming, too. He’s not wrong, and I need to go home. I just… ugh… really, there is no excuse. I’ve done my job and more.

Grant cuts into my thoughts. “If you want, I’m not opposed to you bringing her here. I’d love to meet the woman who’s got you this flustered.”

Take Jolee home? To Grant? My spent cock twitches; it likes the idea.

“Just think it over. Let me know when I’ll be seeing my husband. I love you.”

“I love you too. I will. I’ll be home soon.”

We hang up. I sink into the mattress, but guilt prevents me from thinking about Jolee anymore tonight.

Home? As much as I want to, I can’t take her home. Space would be an issue, and I can already picture her losing her mind over that. Another part of me is worried about what Grant will think of her.

What if he doesn’t like her? Is that possible?

I’d be crushed. Which is crazy to even feel for someone I haven’t been with. Haven’t even held her hand. But caring for Jolee, that’s been some of the best days I’ve ever had with a woman, even if she’s cursing me out and telling me to get lost endlessly. Get it together, Clay.

Grant and I have never talked about having a permanent relationship with anyone. I don’t even know if that’s what I want or if he’d even entertain it.

God, why am I thinking about that? She’s messing with my head and doesn’t even know it—both of them.

My boss, Derrick, told me it was my job to make sure she lives… I guess I’ve taken that a lot more personally than one should. But she’s not really living. Just existing. I know she can’t return to work yet, but I haven’t heard from or seen any family or friends.

I know she talks to Star and Stella, but it’s not like close girlfriends would. No one visited her in the hospital, and I’ve been the only person around since we’ve been back at her apartment. That makes it harder to leave her. I know she’s a grown woman.

Why am I so torn up over this?

She doesn’t think she needs help, but she does. Her one arm just got out of a sling, but she’s still in a walking boot. Limping about because she doesn’t understand the meaning of the word rest. Clumsy doesn’t begin to describe how many times I’ve caught her from falling face-first onto the floor.

Never did I think my job would lead me to her… Jo.