Chapter 14 Elizabeth
ELIZABETH
The smell of bacon jolts me awake, and for a moment, I panic because I don’t recognize where I am. That is, until just seconds later, Jon walks in wearing only a pair of silk pajama pants, carrying a tray with a smile on his face.
“Well, good morning,” he greets, setting the tray in front of me on the bed as I sit up. “I didn’t want to disturb you, so I let you sleep in and made us some breakfast in bed. You look great in my shirt, by the way.”
“Wow. Thank you.” I say, looking down at the two plates containing scrambled eggs, three strips of bacon, and a slice of buttered toast. Instantly, my stomach growls loudly, and I blush.
Jon laughs. “And not a moment too soon, you sound famished.”
With a smile, I grab one of the plates and immediately dig in. “Well, I must’ve worked up an appetite from last night.”
Finishing every bite, he takes the dishes back into the kitchen and returns quickly, sitting next to me on the bed. “So, any plans for the day, or are you free to hang around for a bit?”
As much as I’d love to blow off the day and spend more time with him, I commit to my parents every single Sunday. “Unfortunately, I have a family dinner at my parents every week. But before I go, I should probably shower.”
Without hesitation, Jon strides to the bathroom and flicks the shower on, steam already curling out of the stall. He leans on the doorframe, one hand braced high, the other low, filling the space with his body. “Mind if I join?” His voice is velvet, his pose pure sin.
I bite my lip and nod. The thought alone makes my pulse skip. I’ve never shared a shower before, but with us, naked skin always seems to end in fire.
As I pass, his gaze drags over me like a touch, my shirt slipping off my shoulders until I’m bare under the heat of his stare. The water pelts my back when I step inside, heavy as a summer rain, loosening every bone in me.
Jon steps in after, and the sight steals my breath: his hair slicked back, water streaming down over broad shoulders, over the carved lines of his chest, lower still to those thick thighs. He works shampoo into his hair, eyes shut, every flex of muscle on display.
I move in, sliding my palms over his wet shoulders, down the ridges of his back. His low moan rumbles through the steam. My fingers trail to his hips, then snake forward, wrapping around his cock. Hot. Heavy. Alive in my hand.
“Fuck,” he growls, forehead pressed against the tile, hands braced wide as I stroke him slow, then faster, water and soap making everything slicker, dirtier.
I press my breasts to his back, nipples hard against his wet skin, hips grinding into the curve of his ass. My hand pumps harder, twisting, milking ragged groans out of him until he’s thrusting into my fist.
Every sound he makes shoots straight through me, my clit pulsing, my body begging to be filled. But not yet. Not this time; right now, I want to ruin him.
My lips trail fire down his wet back, my fist stroking his cock harder, tighter, until his hips are rocking into my grip like he can’t help himself.
“Lizzy,” he rasps, voice raw, jaw tight, his forehead pressed against the tile. His body shudders under my hand, every muscle strung taut.
Then he turns, sudden and forceful, water sheeting off his body as he spins me against the slick wall.
My gasp echoes, swallowed by his mouth as he kisses me hard, bruising, one big hand gripping my throat while the other hauls my thigh over his hip.
The blunt head of his cock slides against me once, twice—and then he’s inside, stretching me full in one brutal thrust.
The shower hisses around us, steam curling as his hips slam forward, my back arching against the tile with every wet slap of skin.
He fucks me deep, hard, relentless, his mouth devouring my moans, his hands pinning me open for him. My nails claw his shoulders as the hot water drums our bodies, but he doesn’t stop, doesn’t let up.
“Perfection,” he growls into my ear, pounding harder, the sound of our bodies colliding lost in the roar of the shower. My pussy clenches around him, and he groans low, guttural, fucking me through my shuddering orgasm until I’m boneless against the wall.
Only then does his pace turn savage, desperate. His thrusts grow ragged, his teeth catching my shoulder as he buries himself to the hilt. With a strangled growl, he comes, cock pulsing inside me, filling me hot and heavy while his grip keeps me locked against him.
The shower steams, water cascading down our tangled bodies, his breath rough in my ear as he presses his forehead to mine. I feel a sense of pride that I’m able to make him feel as good as he’s made me feel. He deserves to know that feeling.
After the shower, I dry off and throw on my clothes from the date yesterday before combing through my wet hair.
As much as I’m dreading having to leave him, I have a commitment that I’ve never missed since moving to the city. I find Jon standing in the kitchen, loading the dirty dishes from breakfast into the dishwasher.
“I have to go, but I had such a great time. Thank you.” I stand by the black marble-topped island and smile as he shuts the dishwasher and turns to face me. “The date was everything and more.”
“I’m really glad you had fun. And thank you for … everything.” His smirk hints at the act in the shower. “I can give you a ride to your parents if you’d like.”
Shaking my head, I think about how weird it would be for me to have to explain that one to my family. “Thank you, but I can take a cab. It’s not too far outside the city. But I’ll message you when I get there.”
He walks over and leans down, kissing me as his large, strong hands grip my jaw. I love that almost my entire face can fit into his palms. After our long-lasting goodbye kiss, I exit his penthouse with a permanent smile that I don’t ever want to fade.
The cold air almost immediately freezes my wet hair the moment I step outside and begin trying to hail a cab by the curb of the sidewalk.
On a Sunday, the streets seem more vacant than usual. Normally, especially around the holidays, it’s last-minute shopping and rushing around before Monday rolls around.
The quiet in the air is peaceful. As someone walks by, I smile, not paying too much attention as I pull my phone out of my coat pocket to check the time. Then, the realization sets in, and I nearly drop my phone as I jerk my head around for a double take.
Shit … Sherry Wilson.
My lips tighten as she looks at me, at the building I’m standing in front of, and then back to me with a knowing gleam in her eyes. My breath catches in my throat as my eyes widen. This is it … I’m caught.
“It’s not what it looks like,” I assure her. “Just dropping off some papers that he needed before tomorrow. That’s all.”
“Bullshit, Elizabeth,” she barks back, her face now red-hot as she stands directly in front of me. “You just couldn’t mind your own business and listen. I’m on to you now, and soon, everyone else will know what a slut you are.”
Shaking my head, all I can think about is laying her out on the concrete. But that’s not the kind of person I am. I’m not a violent person, but the anger is hard to ignore when another woman is speaking to you in such a disgusting manner.
Sherry turns to walk away, but my words cause her to stop dead in her tracks. “Wait … How do you know where Jon even lives?”
Without turning back around to face me, she huffs rather loudly, as if throwing a tantrum, and storms off, leaving her threats weighing heavily on my chest.
Finally, a big yellow taxi pulls up in front of me, and I climb in quickly, wanting to get as far away from the situation as I can.
I give the driver my parents’ address in the small town of Waynesboro, right outside of the busy city, and he drives away in a hurry.
The trip goes by in a flash as my brain still tries to comprehend the altercation with Sherry. I pay him and step out, quickly making my way into the warm house, and the wind outside had chilled my entire body.
My father and brother are in their normal spots in the living room, catching the football game on TV as my mother prepares dinner in the kitchen. Saying hello as I pass through, I go into the kitchen and immediately start helping my mother cut the vegetables to add to the stew.
I remain quiet, with Sherry’s words playing on repeat as I toss carrots and celery into the pan surrounding the beef roast. “What’s eating at you?” my mother asks as she sprinkles seasoning across the food.
“Oh, nothing.” I can’t exactly be truthful with her. How can I tell my mom that I’m sleeping with my boss or that he is planning on buying out the company that my father and brother are working for? “Work has been crazy lately, and I’m just tired.”
She seems to buy it as she changes the subject to my grandmother. She says that everything is going well at the new nursing home, and she has her own room with a view.
The conversation continues into dinner, and I feel like I’m on autopilot, nodding every so often so they think I’m listening.
After dinner, I help Mom clear the table, and my father, surprisingly, offers to drive me home, letting me know how outrageous the taxi fares are nowadays. Giggling lightly, I accept his offer, knowing that I haven’t spent alone time with him in a very long time.
The beginning of the drive is quiet, minus the old radio statically playing oldies through his truck stereo. Once we make it into the city, he shuts it off and clears his throat.
“Hey kiddo, I just wanted to take the time to tell you that I’m so proud of you and how far you’ve come since being a tot. I know I don’t say it much, or even at all, and I’m sorry. I’m so glad you left and made something of yourself instead of going down the road the rest of us did.”
I’m left in a state of shock. He never speaks to me like this. But his words are something I guess I needed, especially today. “Thanks, Dad. I appreciate that.” I lean over the bucket seat and hug him tightly before jumping out as he parks in front of my apartment.
“See you next week,” I call out and wave as he pulls away. As nice as that drive and moment were with my father, Sherry still haunts my thoughts. What did she have up her sleeve for me?
What the hell did I get myself into?