CHAPTER 29 JESSALYN
JESSALYN
Oh heck, oh heck, oh heck.
Justin wanted to tear off my freaking underwear with his teeth?
Was that even possible? I mean, I was wearing bikini briefs, so what if he broke an incisor?
Or cracked his jaw? I had a vision of him gnawing desperately at spandex as I died an agonisingly slow death from mortification.
Should I find a pair of scissors as a backup?
Yes.
Yes, I should.
I knocked back the rest of the wine and, after careful consideration, poured another glass and drank that too. Then I hauled open the bedroom door, but Justin had palmed Shiro off on Dawson quicker than I thought, and he was standing right there.
“Planning your escape?” he asked, and although his tone was light, there was a hint of worry.
“No?”
“You okay?”
Also no. “Uh…”
“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” He kissed my forehead so sweetly, so tenderly that I melted against him. “We can just eat chocolate and watch a movie.”
“It’s not that. I…”
Justin waited for my answer, but the words stuck in my throat.
How did I explain that I’d slept with two men in my entire life?
The first had been a cringeworthy experience at a college party, memorable for its pain and its briefness.
Then Ridge had wined me and dined me, and when he made it clear he was interested, I’d wanted to please him.
So I’d steeled myself, smiled even as I felt sick, and it hadn’t turned out as awful as I thought.
Wham, bam, he didn’t give a damn. I could just lie there for a couple of minutes making the right noises, and it would all be over.
Sex with Ridge hadn’t been a big problem.
Just a nightly chore, like brushing my teeth or combing my hair.
No, it was everything else about him that I’d grown to hate.
“My underwear is…uh, a little substantial for ripping. I was going to get scissors.”
He chuckled softly. “Don’t worry; we can improvise. Slide them to the side. Peel them down your legs. Have fun with frottage.”
I didn’t have a clue what that was, but his smile made my knees weaken. My core was a puddle of liquid lust. I allowed him to guide me back to the bed, knowing that I’d let him do anything as long as his hands were all over me.
“Okay,” I whispered.
But instead of stripping me bare, he handed me my phone.
“Upload your video.”
“What?”
“Do it now. This is your fresh start. When your new channel takes off, I want you to remember that this is how it began—with a video of a cake, and me making you come as you shared it.”
My fingers shook as I typed, and how was I supposed to think of hashtags as Justin pushed my dress up my thighs? I arched off the bed as he sucked me through my panties, and who cared about scissors anymore? My heart raced as he went to work, and my mind went blank.
Finally, I managed a few words.
Going back and moving on.
A lot has happened in the past two weeks!
I have a new home, a new kitchen, and a new sense of freedom…
When I started making these videos, I just wanted to teach my bestie how to cook, but they ended up turning into a whole other thing.
I became an actress, an influencer, a brand.
But in the process, I stopped having fun, and I lost a piece of myself.
My underwear was soaked, and Justin was performing magic with his tongue through the wet cotton.
If I’d known this would happen, I would have worn something less frumpy.
Not that many of my panties were sexy, but these were the plainest of the— Holy crap.
Heat shot through me, and suddenly, it didn’t matter that I’d left my vibrator behind in Maine.
The toy had been a gift from Saylor after I’d confessed that Ridge was seemingly clueless about female orgasms, and I almost hoped he found it tucked away in my nightstand drawer.
“Lift your hips, Jessie,” Justin instructed, and I did so obediently. He slid the panties down my legs, leaving me bare to him, and tossed them across the room.
“Are you done with the video?” he asked.
“Almost.”
“Hurry up.”
My hips rose to meet him as he worked his tongue in tight circles. Seeing his head buried between my thighs, his complete lack of shame, his unmistakable desire… My core tightened, and I knew he’d be taking a first—my first orgasm involving male participation.
I hurriedly finished my caption.
Now, I’ve lost a bigger piece. One hundred and sixty pounds of misery.
Yes, I’ve left my husband, and yes, the picture I painted of our life was a lie.
I’m in a much better place now. And I’ll be posting on this new channel as I build a new future for myself and try to rediscover my love of cooking along the way. Saylor, this one’s for you.
Probably nobody would even find my new blog, would they? But maybe Ridge would, if he was stalking me online, so screw it. Screw him. I added a postscript and tagged Saylor.
P.S. Ridge, you never made me come, asshole.
I hit “post” and dropped the phone as Justin performed magic with his fingers.
A wave of stardust rolled through me, and I cried a barely restrained, “Oh!” as I realised exactly what I’d been missing all those years with Ridge.
Such a freaking waste. Justin crawled up the bed and kissed me, and I tasted myself on his lips.
“Tell me this is just the beginning,” I murmured.
“This is just the beginning.”
Justin didn’t ask for anything, no tit for tat.
He simply gathered me against him and stroked my hair as I thought over my past mistakes.
I’d tried to follow the unwritten rules—meet a man, fall in love, get married, live happily ever after.
And while I’d managed parts one and three, part two had been an illusion, and part four had been a disaster.
Everything about life in Virginia was messy, but I had something I’d never had before: hope.
Hope that once we found our way through this mess, a bright future awaited.
A partnership.
The timing was wrong, but this felt right.
Justin felt right.