CHAPTER 21 #2
“You will not speak like that to someone who is here as a guest of the club,” he says the words like they mean something else.
I narrow my glare at his back and Opal covers her mouth.
“You need to remember your place,” he growls the words.
“The countdown has already begun,” the warning is very fucking clear, “and if you keep pushing your luck, it’ll turn ugly. ”
Oh, okay.
Lola’s face goes pale, which is kind of a feat considering how much makeup she’s wearing. When she scurries away, the only thing I can do is sigh. How utterly ridiculous and pointless. The world is big enough for both of us. Maybe.
Opal talks out of the side of her mouth, “I know now isn’t the right time, but that ink is fucking sick and looks smokin’ on you.”
One side of my mouth tips up, but it’s the only reaction I have time to have before Jettson turns around and looks down at me. His eyes search my face, looking for the crack, looking for the pain. He won’t find it. I’m used to her bullshit.
He doesn’t say anything, he just leans down and kisses my shoulder. I’m up and in his arms before my next heartbeat. I wrap my arms around his neck with a yelp of surprise.
Behind us, Opal murmurs, like she’s wiping away a single tear, “He protected her and now he’s carting her away to defile her.” She sighs, “That’s hot.”
I look up and catch Sidewinder scowling and looking away, just as Graycie, who had moved in our direction when Lola started her bullshit, lets out a cackle. My head tips back and I giggle while looking up at Jettson.
He really is handsome; it’s not even fair how handsome he is. Some of his dark hair has fallen forward and I reach up to brush it back without even thinking.
The soft smile he gives me feels sweet…and terrifying.
Sounds from the party get louder even as we move away. Good. Omen should be celebrated.
“Did you get to congratulate your brother? We can go back,” I tell him and gently push on his shoulder like I’m going to be able to steer him to turn around.
“I did,” he assures me, rage flashing across his face, “then I turned around and heard Lola spewing more bullshit.”
“It’s fine,” I dismiss automatically.
He opens a door and steps into a clean and simple room. I guess it makes sense. The man makes his living in an industry that relies on sanitation and working clean.
When he puts me down, I grip the edges of his cut. “You stepped in front of me,” I don’t pose it as a question because it isn’t one.
“Yes.”
“You stepped in front of me against someone who is considered part of this club.”
I stare at him. Waiting. Needing to hear it.
“Yes.”
My hands are gentle and slow as I push the cut back off his shoulders. He takes it from my hands and hangs it on a hook. After closing the distance between us, he strips us both. His movements are precise, like he doesn’t want to waste a single second.
He holds me in his arms like I’m made of glass. My heart stirs.
“Why?” I ask the question before I really mean to.
“Because you’re club too,” he murmurs.
Without giving me a chance to ask any further questions, his hand lands on my ass. My cheeks heat just as much as my ass does. I bat at him, but he doesn’t care.
He climbs onto the bed, grabs a condom, and rolls it down his length. “Cupcake,” his voice is like gravel, “climb on. I want you to ride me.”
My movements are tentative as I straddle his hips. I’m already drenched. I know it.
From the moment he ran his hand down my spine like it was the most natural thing in the world to do, my pussy was wet.
He wraps his fingers around the base of his cock, and I start to lower down his length. My back arches and my head tips back as my ass hits his thighs. The walls of my pussy clench and he lets out a low grunt.
His hands feel like brands as his fingers wrap around the curve of my hips and squeeze. It’s not punishing, but it’s damn close.
“One day something is going to happen, and it won’t surprise you when I step in front of you or when I put my girls first,” his words are fierce.
I grip his shoulders and start to move. He helps me along, bouncing me faster and slamming me down while thrusting upward.
Every time he hits the back of my channel, the edges of my vision flash with streaks of color and light.
“That’s it,” he coaxes, purring with praise, “you have no idea how sexy you look right now, my Cupcake.”
When I lean back slightly, changing the angle of how his piercings drag along my upper wall, his hand wraps around the back of my neck to hold me steady.
The movement is so seamless that I don’t even notice the way I’m supported at first. Only when I arch back, pressing against his hold and not toppling over, do I realize.
Jettson buries his face between my tits, his breath hot against my skin as I slide up and down his cock. He moves his mouth over the swell and latches onto my nipple. The suction he uses is almost too much, but I feel each pull in my clit.
He pops off my nipple, the sound wet and adding to the moans and growling pleas which fill the room. The bed squeaks, but I’m too far gone and can hardly hear it.
I’m at the edge when he sucks my other nipple into his mouth and bites down.
“Jettson,” his name is ripped out of me as my walls clamp down around him and my belly contracts with every pulse of my orgasm. It rolls through me and my eyes drift close as I let myself get lost in the feeling.
When he lets out a pained sound before burying his face in the crook of my neck and biting down, I know he’s close. After two more thrusts he grinds my hips down on him before the first jet of his cum fills the condom.
Our breathing is rough as we cling to each other, our limbs entangled in a way which feels inevitable.
“Thanks for coming tonight, Lara,” the sincerity in his voice has tears pricking at the backs of my eyes.
And I remember the way he stepped in front of me to stare down the only person who has ever been a monster in my life.