Chapter 14
J.T
I’d planned to spend some time with my mouth between her legs, but I’m too far gone. Too fucking needy for this woman. And she needs me, too.
Hell, I can see it in her eyes, and in the way her sweet little slit is dripping for me.
I use my legs to spread hers wider, and I hover just above the heaven that is her body.
“Are you ready for me, Honey?”
Her breath stutters in her throat. Her hands are fisting in the sheets.
“W-what about c-condoms?” she asks.
Instead of irritation at being stopped, I feel something unexpected.
Pride.
She’s thinking. She’s not just surrendering blindly.
She’s protecting herself.
Good.
But I know what I want.
And what I don’t want.
Fact is, I’m not wearing a condom when I fuck her. Not now. Not ever.
I can’t bear the thought of a single thing separating us.
“I’m clean, Kelly,” I tell her evenly. “Haven’t been with anyone in two years. And I know you’re clean.”
Her brows pull together.
“How do you know?”
“Because a woman like you is responsible,” I say without hesitation. “Accountable. The second you found out that lowlife cheated, you went and got checked.”
Her eyes widen.
“It’s true,” she admits quietly. “But I didn’t need to. Mike hasn’t touched me in going on three years.”
Something ugly flashes through me.
Three years?
Three years of him withholding.
Dismissing.
Breaking her confidence piece by piece.
“I knew he was a piece of shit,” I mutter darkly. “Didn’t realize he was a stupid fuck, too.”
Anger surges—not possessive rage at her, but fury at him.
At what he made her doubt about herself.
Her lips curve slightly, but she doesn’t laugh.
And then she says something that nearly levels me.
“It’s, well, he always said I wasn’t very good at this part. I thought you should know that, J.T.”
For a second, I don’t understand.
“What part?”
She swallows.
“The sex part.”
She says it like it’s a confession.
Like she expects me to agree. Or to pull back.
That’s when something shifts inside me.
Not rage.
Not exactly.
More like resolve.
I lean down until our foreheads almost touch.
“Look at me, Kelly.”
She hesitates, then does.
Those blue eyes—vulnerable and brave all at once.
“I want you to take every single word that asshole ever said to you,” I tell her slowly, deliberately, “and throw it the hell away.”
Her throat works.
“I want you to kiss me,” I continue, voice roughening. “Kiss me and let me show you exactly how wrong he was.”
“J.T., what if I disappoint—”
I press my thumb gently over her lips.
“Shhh. That’s impossible, Honey.”
My voice drops, intimate and steady.
“You being here. You wanting me. That’s enough. Just be here with me. That’s it.”
I feel her body soften under mine.
More than submission. This is trust.
And my heart thuds at the prospect.
Her legs loosen, dropping down, her hands slide up my sides, my back, all the way to my shoulders, and she leans up.
Then she kisses me.
Finally.
And she isn’t shy.
Not uncertain.
She’s hungry.
Her kisses aren’t polished.
They’re not practiced.
They’re real.
And the second her mouth moves against mine with that raw, unfiltered want, I know one thing for certain—no man has ever touched her the way I’m about to.
And no one ever will again.
I have a new obsession. And it’s this.
I’m going to do everything I possibly can to make damn sure she never doubts herself again.