Chapter 23 #2
I’m glad I’m lying down, because I just about passed out from hearing that. He carefully pulls out and quickly pushes my knees together, as close to my chin as they’ll go. My brain and heart are dizzy with possibilities.
“You really do have every kink imaginable, don’t you?”
“Kinda comes with the job title, yeah. But that one’s new. Never came out of my mouth once before. Sorry, that was weird, wasn’t it?”
“I mean, yeah, especially coming from you. But fucking hot. Now I wish I were thirty-five.”
He touches my stomach. “Mmm, you’re right, how about thirty?”
Oh, it wasn’t just possibility I was dizzy with. Fuzzy spots fill my vision, and then it’s dark for a few, long seconds.
I blink, and Jett looks very concerned, smoothing his fingers over my cheek and fanning me with the nearest paper, a notepad from my nightstand.
“Baby? There you are. Shit! That scared me. Are you all right, Princess?”
“Jett, now…” Fuck I’m woozy. “Now you see the effect you have on me? Everything you say to me, everything you do, it’s so heady, like … a drug.”
“I’m sorry, Mads, is it all too much? Did, shit, did I fuck you too hard or—”
“No, Jett, that was the best sex I’ve had in my life. I didn’t know sex could be that good.”
“But what if I—my finger necklace? Could I have—”
“Jett, it was the … baby thing, not the sex thing. It’s not every day a rockstar teases the idea of real commitment.”
“Oh, well, I wasn’t teasing. With you? I would never kid about that, Mads, you’re fucking family.”
I don’t even know what to say to that; all I know is that I probably shouldn’t stand up for a while and I must appear on the verge of passing out again.
Jett looks frantically at the mostly eaten snacks strewn around the room and instead runs into my ensuite bathroom.
He comes back with three glucose tablets.
He feeds them to me so careful and sweet, not like Ace who would just throw the whole roll at me.
I notice he also grabbed two little wet towels, one for my forehead, cute, and one to clean up all the cum.
He dares not to make another comment about wasting any, but I really, really liked that.
Since when do I like that? Or have whatever kink that is? I promised the world in an interview once that I didn’t have daddy issues, so now what the hell is this with calling Jett Daddy?
He takes his phone from the nightstand. “Last night, what you promised me, it's called … free use. Took a selfie to see if you really meant it.”
I gasp at the image of Jett stark naked above me looking gorgeous and greedy, dragging the head of his cock through my wetness, while I was fully in REM. So that's why he had the rings on, selfie whore that he is. “Holy shit.”
“It’s in my secure folder, can't be shared. Don't worry. Next time you wake up, I’ll be buried deep inside of you. If … if you're all right with that.”
My head starts to throb, and I feel like I have a million things to ask Mickie. Apparently her novella only scratched the surface of all this kink stuff and now I need to know everything. Maybe more than she even knows.
All I can do is double down. “I consented to it, didn't I? Did you not hear me promise?”
Jett groans, eyes rolling back, dick somehow already weeping at my words.
“You fucking bet I did, angel.” He looks to the ceiling and mouths several silent thank yous to every god that may be up there and I giggle.
Giving this man what he wants isn't just like a drug, it feels better than any drug I've ever tried.
And I've tried several. See? Not as innocent as I look.
“Babyyyy! Mr. Jett!” We stop breathing entirely as we hear Tasha, Mum’s personal chef, call from the bottom of the stairs.
We look at each other with wide eyes. “Ms. Jewels sent me here to teach Mr. Jett how to make Baby her favorite breakfast! Hope your levels are okay, Baby! I got stuck in a little traffic!”
I yank the blanket over me, and Jett searches frantically for Dad’s pajamas. He has one leg in as he starts hollering, “Thank fuck you’re here, Miss Tasha, her sugar levels are crashing!”
“Then get your cute butt down here, you know Baby is hypoglycemic, you can’t mess with that!”
He leans down and kisses me, “Will you be all right up here alone? Fuck, if she hadn’t hit traffic?”
My face turns magenta at the thought of her walking into the screaming, not ten minutes ago. Thank God, LA congestion stopped Mum’s cock block. “Mr. Jett would’ve been fucked!”
“Worth it, though!” I snicker.
He quickly buttons up the silk. “You don’t understand what you do to me, Baby. That was so, so much more than fucking. You know that, right?”
My head tingles. “Don’t get me all swoony again, baby.”
He throws his hand over his heart, and I giggle. “Sorry, you’re my fucking dreamgirl, Baby. Okay, I’ll stop!”
“Go downstairs before I pass out again!” And he takes that seriously with an air kiss, and he’s gone.
I force myself to lie still for a few minutes to get my heart rate to slow down.
Plus, let the compress and glucose tabs do their thing, but curiosity gets the best of me, and I pull my phone off its charger.
Oh fuck. The photos we posted were not a soft launch at all. I am inundated with texts from half the people I know.
Kel, my on-set makeup artist and Brit bestie, sends, ‘I have never been this jealous of you before, and I’ve been really fucking jealous, babe.’
Lola’s bestie, Nina: ‘I freakin’ knew it, gurllll! That chemistry is more than a fling, I knew that when I saw it!’
Gage: ‘Days ago you said you'd call and this is what I get instead? Seriously?’