Chapter 15 – Jenna
JENNA
My chest heaved as I shoved another shirt into my suitcase, my hands moving faster than my thoughts. My cheeks were still flaming hot with embarrassment, and I knew—I just knew—that there was no one at that table who believed Nicholas and I were truly engaged.
This was all for nothing…
As I was folding a pair of sweatpants, Nicholas stepped into the room and slammed the door shut behind him.
“What the hell are you doing?” Nicholas said, his face red.
“Packing everything away,” I said. “The jig is up.”
He arched a brow.
“Mr. Reaves is going to the hospital to talk with Brandon,” I said. “He’s going to find out the truth, and then this entire trip and elaborate pretend will be rendered completely unnecessary.”
He eyed me as I stuffed my bras into a bag.
“And then I get the pleasure of getting back to New York and being the topic of conversation because you just couldn’t help yourself,” I hissed. “You just had to kiss me—excuse me—damn near fuck me—in front of all my coworkers for this stupid ruse, and you know what?”
“No.” He grabbed my hand and pushed me against the wall. “I don’t. The only thing I know right now is that you’re acting like you’re out of your mind.”
“What part of Mr. Reaves knowing the truth didn’t you understand?”
“I handled Mr. Reaves,” he said. “He’s not going back to the hospital. He’s on his way back to New York on my plane.”
“To tell everyone we’re frauds?” I asked. “To ruin what little of a reputation I have?”
“No.” His voice was terse.
“Who’s going to hire me after this?” I glared at him. “I can’t go back to work for you, and Brandon was right. You used my family like pawns, just for us to lose this silly little game you insist that I play.”
“Okay—first of all,” he said, his voice dropping. He suddenly gripped my hips so hard I lost my breath. “I don’t want to hear your ex-boyfriend’s name fall from your lips ever again. Are we clear?”
I nodded, too breathless to speak.
“I need to hear you say it,” he commanded. “I don’t want to hear you talk about him ever again…”
“Okay…”
“Good.” He reached into his pocket, pulling out my engagement ring. Then he returned it to my left hand, slowly sliding it down with an I-dare-you-to-take-it-off look in his eyes.
“Second of all, no one suspects shit—except maybe Brandon, who’s overdue for a psych evaluation—so you’re panicking and packing for no reason. And lastly—”
He pinned my body against the wall with his hips. “I did not damn near fuck you back in New York. I was showing tremendous restraint, but I’m honestly tired of pretending I don’t want you.”
He stamped his mouth over mine, and my eyes widened as he claimed me with a kiss so long and deep that it made my knees weaken.
He yanked my hair out of its bun, sending my hair down to my shoulders.
Still kissing me, he wedged his knee between my legs, gently spreading them apart.
I shut my eyes as his mouth continued taming mine, but he suddenly bit down hard on my bottom lip.
“Open your eyes back up,” he demanded. “I want to see what you look like while I’m fucking you…”
Obliging, I sucked in a breath as he slid a hand under my skirt and ripped off my panties in one smooth motion. Deftly unzipping my skirt, he let it fall to the floor.
He pressed his mouth against my neck, forcing me to bite back moans as he sucked my skin between his teeth, his hand roaming under my shirt and unclasping my bra.
“Pull this off with your sweater,” he whispered, leaning back. “Now.”
I grabbed the bottom of my shirt and slowly pulled it over my head, giving him an up-close view of my breasts.
He pressed his palms against them before sucking my right nipple into his mouth, making every nerve in my body fall over the edge, making me completely forget where the hell we were.
“Wait, Nicholas,” I whispered, frantic. “Someone will probably hear us.”
“Then try not to scream.” He took my left nipple into his mouth and slid a hand between my thighs, tapping my swollen clit with his thumb—making it clear there was no stop sign in sight.
Tearing away from me, he pulled a condom from his pocket before unbuckling his pants and letting them fall to the floor.
I held back a gasp as I caught sight of his cock print through his briefs. For years, I’d fantasized about what hid behind his custom pants— even pictured how big he would be—but it paled to finally seeing it right in front of me.
“Something wrong?” he asked, smirking.
I shook my head.
“Good.” He pressed the packet into my hand before pushing down his briefs and exposing his cock. “I’ll be sure you get every inch of it…”
Grabbing my left hand, he placed it on top of him, making me feel how hard he was for me.
I suddenly couldn’t breathe.
“Open it and put it on me, Jenna,” he whispered.
I nodded, but I must’ve been moving too slow, because he let out a low laugh and took it, tearing it open with ease.
He slowly rolled it over every inch, pausing every few seconds for emphasis, as if he was showing me just how much of him I was about to take.
When he was finished, he kissed me again—much softer this time—but then he suddenly grabbed my hand and pulled me to the edge of a bookshelf.
“Lean back,” he commanded, and my body obeyed before my mind could think it through.
My ass hit the cold wood, and he positioned my legs around his waist before slowly sliding into me.
“Oh…” I couldn’t help but moan. “Oh my God…”
“Shhh…” he warned, sliding into me deeper. “I thought you didn’t want anyone to hear.”
“Ahhh…” I couldn’t help it—every inch was more than the last, and he was rubbing his thumb against my clit as if he wanted me to scream our moment aloud.
When he was finally buried deep inside of me, tears of pleasure pricked my eyes, and a scream was seconds away from escaping my lips.
Saving me, he covered my mouth as he thrust in and out of me, but I was still moaning like crazy against his hand.
I begged him to slow down with my gaze, but he refused. He moved at his now torturous, reckless tempo, making me regret ever saying a word about his sex skills.
The bookshelf knocked against the wall, loud enough to startle me, but soft enough that it wouldn’t arouse too much suspicion.
I stared into Nicholas’s eyes as he stared into mine, meeting his hips with every thrust, feeling all the years of angst between us falling away every time our bodies collided.
This was just a release of pent-up lust, though.
It felt like something more…
“I… I…” I felt my pussy throbbing against him, knowing I wouldn’t be able to hold on much longer.
“You what?” he teased, gently moving his hand away from my mouth. “You’re about to let me see you come on this dick?”
“Yes…”
“Good girl.” He suddenly slowed down and thrust into me harder, catching me off guard and sending me over the edge.
As if he knew what was coming, he covered my mouth—muffling his name as it ripped out of my throat.
He reached his release seconds later, and we remained panting and entwined, both trying to steady our breaths.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
All I could do was nod.
He slowly moved out of me and lifted me onto the bed. Then he took off the condom and tossed it away.
I expected him to lie beside me, but he didn’t.
Instead, he walked over to his fallen pants and pulled out another condom before moving on top of me.
“Grab the headboard for me,” he whispered against my skin. “Now.”
“For what?”
“Because.” He grabbed my hands and placed them where he wanted. “I’m about to punish you for the rest of the night, for making me sleep on the floor…”