Chapter Thirty #2
I smile again and pull away because it’s my turn to surprise him.
Just as I go to grab one of the bags I came home with, the door leading out to the garage opens and Maverick and Damon walk in.
I greet each with a kiss then continue on my mission.
I hear them ask Jonas what’s going on as I grab the bag with the yellow jersey that has his last name and the number nineteen on the back, run to the laundry room, throw it over my turtleneck and some back out.
Jonas groans something animalistic and practically tackles me. “Fuck baby,” I melt. “My name looks so good on you. ”
Now I can’t wait to show him my other surprise later on then.
I had a little time and happened along a tattoo parlor.
I got his jersey number tattooed on my ribcage.
Crazy? Probably. Too soon? Maybe. Do I care?
No. Not when I can see that just wearing his jersey causes him to practically sink to his knees.
His large hand wraps around my middle as he holds me close from behind, tugging my back to his chest, I can feel his hard length on the small of my back as he leans down to whisper, “All that’s missing is my ring on your finger, Mrs. Anderson. ”
Arousal doesn’t just pool at my sex, it makes my entire vascular system run rampant, electricity shooting through me as a chill skitters down my spine and the neurons in my brain spaz.
I want it. I didn’t know how much I love the thought of possibly being Mrs. Jonas Anderson once this is all over, and it makes me fall in love with Jonas just a bit more, if possible.
We may not have time for me, but it doesn’t mean there isn’t enough time for him .
I turn around and drop to my knees quickly, making quick work of his jeans, and tug him out for me and lick my lips.
He hisses as soon as my tongue swirls around his crown, and I do what I can to take him as deep as I can without gagging his groan echoing in my ears.
When I look up, my core burns at the sight of his narrowed eyes focused on me, jaw slack, one hand on his hip holding back his t-shirt and the other coming for my hair.
I wiggle my tongue on the underside, sucking as I reach up, stroking him with one hand and bringing up the other to play with his balls.
“Fuck, baby, you’re so good to me. Suck a little harder, yes, good girl, so fucking good… deeper.”
I do, I take him as deep as I can and then hold- swallowing when I feel like gagging and I feel his thighs tremble.
I take him out, stroking my slobber all over, fisting his cock, gathering the extra saliva that pooled in my mouth because the taste of him, clean and masculine, always makes my mouth water, I spit on his dick.
“Holy shit, God help me, that was so hot. I’m gonna fucking come, baby.”
That spurs me on. I redouble my efforts, taking him deeper, the hold he has on my hair is tightening, the sounds of me gagging and his groans a cacophony I treasure .
“You gonna take every drop I give you, baby?”
I whimper. Jonas holds my head with both hands by my temples and guides me up and down, pistoning his hips slowly so I take him deeper into my throat.
“Just like that baby, fuck, you kill me… so good, so fucking precious, my sick little slut on your knees for me, just couldn’t wait for a taste of my cum, couldn’t you baby?
Needed me to fill you up? Made for me, I swear…
fuck.” He groans it out as his dick thickens, pulsing in time with the slow thrust of his hips, his eyes never leaving mine until he bows over me and I swallow every drop like I promised.
When he pulls away and I tuck him back in, he stares at me, forest eyes shining with something akin to awe but filled with so much love I can’t take it.
He helps me stand and presses a kiss to my cheek and then my lips.
“I love you so fucking much, Raven. Fuck I don’t want to leave you.
I don’t want to play this game. I want to stay here with you. ”
He’s pouting, and God, if I ever said I didn’t like it I’d be lying.
I’m coming with you . I sign.
His eyes light up like I told him Christmas was coming twice this year.
“You want to go to the game?” Damon asks and I jump, completely forgetting he was even here. I nod. There’s a smile on his face that matches Jonas’. “How about you go, Jonas so you aren’t late and we’ll meet you there?”
Jonas’ grin widens. “You all want to watch me play?”
Maverick laughs. “It wouldn’t be the first time.
For me, anyway.” Jonas’ head jerks back a little in disbelief.
“The game where you got in a fight and barely won by the skin of your teeth. It was entertaining. You’re a good wide receiver, I’d have to say you’re somewhere up there with Larry Fitzgerald.
Is football something you’re trying to pursue?
” he asks and Jonas’ smile finally falters at the question after he was just preening under Maverick’s words.
“In a different life, maybe. For now it’s criminal law.”
“But if the NFL drafts?”
Jonas grimaces then shakes his head. “It would be a dream but, nah, my future has kind of been set out for me already. ”
Maverick shrugs, clearly picking up the vibe in the room, Damon giving a tight-lipped smile, silver eyes watching. “That’s too bad. You’d break records.”
Jonas nods and I can’t let him go to the game with that feeling in his chest so I turn to him to sign. You’ll be the best lawyer. And you’ll come home to me every night and get to tell me about your day.
This perks him up. “And I’ll get to come home to you every night, huh?”
I bite my lip, another nod as I stand on my tiptoes to kiss my mountain of a man.
“Okay, I have to go. I’ll tell the stadium to keep tickets for you at will call. I love you. Please wear something warm. And your boots. It gets cold, okay?”
I nod and send him on his way with another kiss.
______
Yellow Jackets win – 21-17.
______
Getting away from my guys wasn’t as difficult as I thought it was going to be.
It’s my second week dancing in my cage at Inferno. I’m up high, slowly being lowered to a center-top, to be ogled as I sway my hips. This time, I’ve gone with a more revealing gold and black bodysuit except I had to tape up my breasts so they don’t spill out.
Last weekend, a song started in my head, louder than the music around us when Thadd came in, made eye contact on his way to the bar, ordered, watched me dance, and took the other girl up to the fourth floor with him instead.
The only difference between her and I was she was wearing less and according to her chart, had less boundaries. Which was hardly any.
I wasn’t changing my boundaries, instead I was wearing less, dancing a little sluttier, letting myself move to the music.
Which works .
Because Stephen fucking Prescott stands in front of my cage for thirty minutes, chilling aquamarine eyes taking in every inch of my body, watching me move. When he reads my chart he twists his mouth to the side, quirks a blonde brow up and motions for one of the bartenders to release me.
“Chloe, is it?”
I nod as he helps me down from the cage.
Standing before him even in my boots, he still towers over me.
He smells delicious and for an older man he is still extremely handsome.
But wasn’t Lucifer the most beautiful angel?
He takes a strand of my already curled hair and wraps it around his finger, his thumb glides over as if to test out how soft it is and the drops the strand. “Come.”
Before I can hesitate, he takes my hand in his, large, the underside smooth except for a few callouses I can feel where he probably grabs dumbbells.
I whirl and catch sight of two masked men standing against the wall, watching this play out.
Silver eyes like melting glaciers behind one, eyes like a forest behind the other.
Two completely different men, both equally dangerous.
While Jonas looks bothered, Damon looks intrigued, he takes the tumbler he’s holding, and tilts it to me, saying something to Jonas, with his lips behind the glass, I can’t exactly read what he says but Jonas nods, getting off the wall and following us through the crowd, keeping a few feet of distance between us.
A calm runs through me, knowing at least one of my men will be with me, to protect me if anything goes wrong, which it shouldn’t.
I’m just gathering intel. But as soon as we step onto the fourth floor, that music in my head begins to play.
I keep my hand in Stephen’s, letting him lead me to one of the tabletops with a pole as he plops down, next to Simon Hoover, both Thaddeus Whitmore and his son, Mr. Anderson, and John fucking Monroe, my stepfather.
Stephen pulls me onto his lap, hand on top of my thigh, squeezing as though he needs the feel of soft skin to ground him.
Through the mesh in the holes of my mask, I watch Jonas perch at a table close to us just as Axel arrives, unbuttoning his suit jacket and sitting next to us.
I twist, settling further into his lap, draping an arm over his shoulders, putting the other hand on his chest, pulling his navy tie loose, unbutton three of the opal buttons on his shirt and let my hand venture into his shirt, touching the dark blonde thatch of hair on his chest. He seems surprised by my forwardness, but he welcomes it, growing hard under my thigh.
Stephen Prescott exudes power, his presence alone demands respect as all eyes at the table are on him, as he rubs up and down, going from my thigh to my waist and back.
He leans further into my touch as a waiter comes and takes their drink orders.
He asks if I want one but I ignore it, instead I lean further into him, letting my lips trail butterfly-soft kisses against his neck.
He grips my hip as he takes a sip from the drink he still has.
“Now gentlemen, while this is not the appropriate place or time, there is still the matter at hand. My only heir is dead, my nephew is on house arrest, and my other nephew died as well.”
“There haven’t been any other attacks since Tyler’s murder.”
They know he was murdered. How?
I stiffen but Stephen still continues to caress me, large hand gripping tightly, as if he doesn’t notice, the muscles in his jaw ticking.
“ Yet .” Is the only word he says, the table goes silent as their drinks are handed out and the waiter leaves.
“The only heir to the Prescott fortune is either slowly losing his mind or he’s telling the truth. ”
“He attacked Raven prior to the fire.” Axel defends. “With no real proof.”
“Riordan also suggested the Anderson boy.”
“My son was out on your business during one incident, helped your boy before the second incident and continues to do your dirty work to this day. If you didn’t trust him, why would you continue to have him be your lackey?” henry spits, defending his son.
Oh, Jonas. I want to groan but I bite my tongue and nudge my nose along Stephen’s neck. This is when Stephen grips me and pushes me off him. “Dance, butterfly.”
I stand, and head to the pole in the midst of them, and as the song starts, I keep my eyes on Jonas, pretending I’m dancing for him, and only him as the conversation flows, going from accusatory to confusion.
They have no idea. I grip the pole behind me and slide down, my thighs spreading, I feel the material of my bodysuit slip between my pussy lips, and I almost hear Jonas’ groan from where I stand.
But the one I heard is from the one that purchased me to be his companion for the hour .
My eyes drift to Stephen Prescott. He leans back, arms along the back of the black velvet sofa, baby blues roaming all over me, from my hair to my chest to my stomach to the juncture between my thighs.
I slide back up, turning, and bend, feeling my wings part along with my thighs, giving him and his peers, (my Jonas is scowling when I see Damon has finally joined him) a better view as I shake slightly, and a hand comes up to touch from my calf, up the back of my knee, my thigh to the swell of my ass and I peek over my shoulder to see Stephen the tip of his tongue swipe along his bottom lip.
I stand slowly and turn again, leaning against the pole, making him eye-level with my pussy.
“Tell me, Chloe, are your limits so little because you’re new?”
I nod, biting my lower lip, still looking at my men.
Stephen’s hands crawl from the top of my thighs, over my stomach, and back down before reaching my breasts.
Oh, I hope they punish me. The only one left I know would demolish me for letting anyone else touch me currently isn’t here. But the two that are…
“If I gain your trust-” Stephen swallows as his face nears my cunt, “could your limits open?”
I shrug when he steps even closer- an alarm he was given buzzes, telling him our time is up and he steps away.
“I love a challenge, butterfly.” He growls as the bartender from the lower level comes up to help me down from the table, Damon and Jonas are nowhere to be seen when I’m taken back down to put back in my cage.
Two familiar imposing men approach me, striking in their anger, their annoyance I didn’t tell them where I was going, but I hadn’t needed to, had I? They knew exactly where I was the entire time, thanks to Damon. “Meet us at Damon’s.”