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Beautiful distraction, p.39
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       Beautiful Distraction, p.39

           J. C. Reed
 

  I wanted to lick each droplet from his slick skin. Ever so slowly I held him with both hands and I lowered my mouth onto the thick head, sucking it deep between my lips. He quaked inside my mouth and a sexy rumble escaped his throat.

  “Oh, fuck.” His voice sounded just as choked between his ragged breaths, and for once I felt I was in control with no need to hide my desire.

  “I want to know what you taste like,” I whispered, repeating Jett’s words when he went down and dirty at the lake.

  Releasing him from between my lips, I licked the slit and sucked him back inside, my tongue darting over the broad head in a slow rhythm. He rasped my name once, then again. The sound of his voice turned me on to such an extent, I wanted to throw him onto his back and straddle him, drive his hard flesh into me and demand the climax I felt building within us both.

  Not yet.

  I wasn’t nearly finished with him. Still gazing up at Jett, I ignored my own needs as I bathed in his lust. With a desperate groan, he pulled away, putting a few inches between us. His erection jerked in my hands. His eyes closed, as a deep shudder rocked his abdomen.

  “What are you doing to me?” His voice stroked my senses like silk. He was close; I could see it in his clouded gaze and the way his ragged breath rocked his chest. My hands reached out for him, so I could finish what I had started. He groaned with desire but didn’t protest as I put him back between my lips, sliding my tongue down his length.

  “Do you want me to make you come, Jett?”

  His breath hissed out between clenched teeth, and his eyes darkened with desire. “Only if you want to.” No pressure, no demands. I liked that about him. It showed that he wasn’t greedy; he liked to give as much as he liked to get.

  “I want to,” I whispered, wondering where this confident vixen had been hiding all her life.

  Slow or quick?

  I bit my lower lip wickedly, wondering whether to tease him mercilessly so he’d never forget me, or give him a hard but fulfilling release he’d never forget either.

  In the end I knew what I had to do.

  Smiling, I lowered my wet lips onto the swollen tip and sucked it into my mouth slow and deep.

  “That’s good, baby. Just like that.”

  His deep groans and words of encouragement spurred me on. His fingers tangled in my hair, but he didn’t push. He let me do as I pleased.

  “You’re driving me crazy, Brooke.” His whisper turned into a guttural rasp. Circling the base of his thickening shaft, my fingers worked up and down, slowly, then faster, until I felt the tell-tale tremble of his imminent release. I stopped and pressed my tongue against his slick slit, forcing him to a halt. His grip in my hair tightened and his hips rocked forward with their unspoken plead for more. I could feel his racing pulse beneath my fingers, could taste just how close he was in the salty tang of his moisture. The knowledge that I did this to him left me hot and flustered. The sounds and flavors of his arousal excited me so much, my own moisture began to slick my entrance, readying me for his touch.

  In our moment of intimacy, I not only owned his lust and pleasure, he was mine.

  Tightening my grip around him, I began to suck him deep into my mouth. He rewarded me with another groan, this one louder and more demanding.

  Close. So close.

  “Brooke.” The muscles of Jett’s rock hard torso tightened and he thrust forward. The big crown jerked and hot moisture surged within my mouth. I kept him perched between my lips until the waves of climax subsided and Jett slumped down next to me, pulling me to his damp chest, one leg resting between my thighs.

  He was spent; he had to be because I had given it my all, exhausting every bit of energy. My body snuggled against his hard muscles as Jett trailed his fingers up and down my back. Silence spread around us like a blanket, and I was almost lulled into a morning nap when I felt his lips on my face.

  My gaze flew up to take in the wicked smile on his gorgeous face, and I narrowed my eyes. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m going to fuck you senseless,” Jett said, “tease you the way you teased me, and make you come the way no one’s ever made you come before.”

  My breath hitched in my throat, and I blushed hard and fast. “I see you’ve never heard of the magic of metaphors?” I pretended to slap his arm, mortified, but in secret I loved his dirty talk.

  “Metaphors and flowery language are for those who don’t know how to give their women some good ol’ fucking.” His shaft jerked to life against my thigh. He was up for it. Again.

  Holy cow.

  Where did he get all this energy from? I watched his hand move between our bodies to touch himself—once, twice, hardening, preparing—until he grew so big I doubted my small body could possibly accommodate him.

  “Ready?” His eyes shimmered with humor and something else.

  Hell no, I wasn’t.

  “Jett.”

  His erection rocked against the entrance of my body and in spite of my reservations, I moaned with anticipation. His fingers parted my private lips and spread the moisture pouring from within me.

  “So wet and yet so tight,” he murmured, pushing a long finger deep inside of me, followed by another. I panted as his fingers moved in and out in slow cadence, filling me enough to ignite a blaze, but not enough to prepare me for his huge erection. One more thrust and then he pulled out his fingers, replacing them with something much bigger, guiding himself inside my tunnel, impaling and stretching me, filling me up in a single hot movement.

  I cried out in surprise as a rush of burning pleasure shot through me. My nerve-laden tissues parted around him as my sex struggled to accommodate the invasion. Burying my nails into the rippling muscles of his chest, I was unsure whether to pull him toward me or push him away. Hot waves of pleasure rolled over me, bringing the sweet promise of release…if only I could stand his sweet torture long enough.

  Jett dipped his tongue into my mouth and began to move, his tongue mirroring the fast movement of his hips. Pushing up on his elbows, his palms settled around my breasts. His thumbs began to pinch my hardening nipples, tugging and teasing, and his hard flesh plunged deep inside me. I arched my back to welcome his thrusts and bit my bottom lip hard, struggling to keep from moaning.

  “Come for me, Brooke,” Jett whispered. His thumb found the sensitive nub of my clitoris and began to massage it in slow, circular motions. I cried out at the quivering sensations meeting with the currents of fire his thrusts sent through my sex. My body quivered beneath him as my vision blocked out everything but his electrifying eyes transfixed on me, gazing into my soul.

  “Jett.” My lips released his name in a long whimper. With each thrust and caress, the pulsing sensation between my legs intensified until I thought I’d pass out from the sheer pleasure.

  “That’s it, baby,” Jett whispered, cupping my buttocks and pushing himself inside me just a bit deeper. It couldn’t be more than an inch but it was enough to push me over the edge. A strong tremor shot through my abdomen, bringing with it wave after wave of delicious release. Grinding my hips into his, I clenched my muscles around him, struggling to ride the roller coaster of lust just a little bit longer. Jett’s groan joined my cry, and his hot seed spilled deep inside me, filling me with a new sensation.

  Eventually, he pulled out of me and rolled to the side, drawing me into his arms like he had before, his lips whispering against my damp hair.

  Wow. Just double wow. It was the most amazing sex I ever had.

  “Are you okay?”

  Cheeks burning, I nodded.

  “This was insane. You’re incredible,” he whispered. “You’ve given me more than I ever envisioned anyone could.”

  I had to agree I felt the same way. Even though it was just sex, his words made me feel warm and woozy inside. My heart began to thump just a little bit harder as his lips found mine and engaged them in a slow and delicious kiss. As the tension of climax began to fade, we remained locked in our embrace, trembling from the faint
ripples of subsiding pleasure. With the bright rays of sun warming our naked bodies, I fell asleep in Jett’s arms, strangely laid-back about the array of emotions this man had started to evoke in me. For the first time, I had surrendered my whole self to a man.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Jett and I spent another hour in bed, tangled in each other’s embrace, while keeping our conversation light and mostly focused on his company. What drew me away from him eventually was my stomach’s rumbling. Jett had made me burn through my energy supplies, and now my body demanded food.

  “Why don’t you get dressed while I check whether lunch is ready?” Jett’s gaze burned down on me, and I could sense his hesitation at leaving the sanctuary of our bedroom.

  I smiled and got out of bed, walking leisurely to pick my clothes off the floor. His heated gaze brushed my naked rear and sent shivers of pleasure down my spine.

  “Damn.” Jett shook his head as another smile lit up his face. If I had learned anything about my new boss it was that he was a man of monosyllabic expressions. However, one single non-descript word coming from him conveyed more flattery than I had heard in my entire life.

  I rolled my eyes. “Stop the buttering up. You had me already.” I held up two fingers. “Twice.”

  “I thought I might put in the legwork for tonight.” His grin widened at my scowl. Truth be told, I didn’t need his compliments. I was ready to drop my panties for him if he so much as smiled in my direction, meaning the panty-dropping smile wasn’t a myth. I had finally found what Sylvie had been going on about ever since the day we met. Too bad I couldn’t tell her about it.

  Sylvie.

  My brain briefly registered that I hadn’t called or texted her last night, even though I had promised to. As much as I loved spending day and night in Jett’s bed, there was a world outside those bedroom walls. And forgetting about my best friend was definitely a big, fat no-go.

  I shrugged into my clothes and left Jett to take a shower, ignoring the invitation to join him. If I took him up on the unspoken offer of yet more fun, I knew we’d end up starved and, in my case, probably way behind my work schedule. While booting up my laptop, I checked my cell phone. There were five missed calls, two voice mails, and three text messages, all from one person. Even though it might sound like a lot, coming from Sylvie, who was addicted to her cell phone, anything under twenty calls and ten text messages wasn’t urgent.

  As much as I loved Sylvie, she could be a real pain.

  Heaving an exasperated sigh, I texted to remind her I couldn’t have private conservations during working hours and promised to write an uber long email, then went about checking Jett’s business correspondence when my cell rang.

  I knew it was Sylvie before I even glanced at the screen. Sitting on my bed, I pressed the response button.

  “What the heck, Brooke,” her voice greeted me. “Italy’s only across the big pond, but the way you keep ignoring me, it might as well be situated on the moon and you have no reception.” I could hear the sulk in her voice. Sylvie in a disgruntled state was never good. She could go on and on for hours.

  “I’m so sorry. This job’s been extremely demanding and—” I trailed off, letting her fill in the gaps. It was a harmless, white lie; Jett came with the job and he had been demanding a lot of my time and energy. Not that I complained.

  “Mayfield has you working around the clock?” Her tone gave me a preview of the sarcasm about to erupt. “Seriously, Brooke, if I didn’t know any better I’d bet my designer wardrobe on you fucking the boss.”

  I laughed nervously. “You’re hilarious.” My tone came out all wrong, because a moment later Sylvie gasped and the line went silent. I held my breath as my mind tried to come up with something—anything—to steer her away from her spot-on guess. Once she grew suspicious, she was like a hound dog that wouldn’t back off from a hot trail. Come to think of it, she was worse.

  “Okay, that was about the most laughable thing you’ve ever said.” My tongue tripped over itself to assure Sylvie that nothing was going on. Unfortunately, Sylvie had an uncanny ability to read between the lines.

  “What does he look like?”

  “Who?” I knew playing dumb wouldn’t be of much help.

  “Mayfield.”

  “Old.”

  Sylvie clicked her tongue. The sound reverberated down the line right into my ear, making me cringe. “Please! Age never stopped anyone. Guys are like ripe wine: the older they grow, the more attention they get.”

  I forced a chuckle out of my throat, like I knew what she was talking about. Truth was, I didn’t since I could count all the guys I ever slept with on the fingers of one hand, and they sure hadn’t been the sugar daddy type.

  “So,” Sylvie continued. “You’re doing the dirty with the boss, and I don’t like it.”

  “What? No.”

  “Brooke. I know you better than you know the back of your hand.”

  She didn’t, or so I liked to believe. I sighed into the line. If I couldn’t convince her, the best way to get her off my back was to cut the call short. “I’m sorry about not calling or texting. I’m just tired.” True. “And this job’s been weird so far.” Also true. “I’ll make it up to you as soon as I get home next week.” I had no doubt Sylvie would bully me into making that part true as well. “Please, can we just leave it at that?”

  It was the second time I asked this question in twenty-four hours. Just like Jett, Sylvie had no idea when to back off.

  “No.”

  “You told me to have fun.”

  “Yeah, but not thousands of miles away where I couldn’t kick the guy’s ass if he tried to hurt you.”

  I smiled at the picture Sylvie’s words conjured before my eyes. As a Pilates goddess with muscles of steel, she sure as hell could do some major damage. Too bad she didn’t use all that power on Ryan.

  “Look,” Sylvie continued, “I’m worried about you being all alone in a different country with some guy you don’t know.”

  “Why?”

  “Because—” she blew out her breath, pausing “—you’re not like me. You have feelings and standards and you deserve more than that. Promise you’ll stay safe and tell me everything when you get back?”

  I nodded. “Uh-huh.”

  “One last word of advice, guys like him and Ryan are trouble. Good looks and successful careers are a dangerous combination.”

  Trouble—wasn’t that the word I used upon meeting Jett for the first time? I frowned. “Thanks.”

  “Okay.” She didn’t sound too happy to drop the subject, but it was good enough for me. The air was clear. I had managed to dodge a bullet and buy myself a few more days before I’d be Sylvie-interrogated. “Have you found out who sent the Manila envelope still cluttering our expensive coffee table in the hall?” she asked, finally changing the subject. “I’m really scared to sleep with that thing inside the house. It looks like something from Law & Order that’s ready to blow up.”

  I rolled my eyes, grateful she couldn’t see it. “It’s only a letter, for crying out loud. Just open it if it bothers you so much.”

  “Can’t you send someone over to do it, like your mother? Or—” She paused and I could almost hear the wheels of her brain working away. The sad thing about Sylvie was that she actually meant every word. “I guess I could ask Ryan. Since he’s dating some double DDs, he’s as good as dead to me.”

  I didn’t want to mention that guys like him, meaning ridiculously rich and manipulative, always ended up going for plastic, be it bigger breasts or shiny new credit cards. But why state the obvious? Sylvie needed to heal, and expressing my disdain would only make her more obsessed with a jerk unworthy of her obsession.

  “I’ll be back next week,” I said. “Until then, just leave it on my desk and forget about it. I bet it’s not even important.”

  “It looks important.”

  Then open the darn thing, I felt like yelling. “Leave it in my room, and I’ll take care of it when I get bac
k home.”

  “And what about the foreign guy who keeps calling? He doesn’t want to believe you’re not around, and it gives me the creeps.”

  “I’ll be back next week,” I repeated slowly, emphasizing the last two words.

  A sulky pause, then, “Fine. It really sucks without you. Promise me you’ll never get hitched and have kids. Or if you do, we’ll live next door from each other so I can visit any time.”

  “Sounds great.” Living next door to each other was always our dream. However, if we ever ended up married, I doubted my husband would be so keen on the best friend’s constant presence breathing down his neck.

  “I’ll think about it.” We chatted for a few more minutes, mostly focusing on Sylvie’s nightly escapades, before I hung up with the promise to call again as soon as I could.

  Clutching my cell phone to my chest, it felt surreal to sit in a stranger’s room thousands of miles away from home, keeping secrets from my best friend. Sylvie and I had always told each other the truth, even if said truth hurt the other’s feelings. The contract clearly stated that I wasn’t to tell anyone about the agreement, but Jett had assured me the rules could be changed. So why did I not ask him to change this particular one?

  Because you’re scared she’ll tell it like it is, and you know it won’t be pretty.

  Had I fallen for my very own Ryan? Was I repeating Sylvie’s mistake? It was just a thought that briefly crossed my mind, and yet I couldn’t quite dismiss it. I long established that Jett wasn’t a liar like Ryan. He never pretended to want more than a physical relationship, to which I had agreed. But somehow my mind didn’t want to acknowledge that major difference between Jett and Ryan.

  I sighed and forced my ugly thoughts to the back of my mind. Sylvie would find out about my agreement soon enough, upon which I’d deal with her candid opinion and metaphorical kick in the backside. Right now I enjoyed the present, doing whatever I felt like doing, without my best friend telling me how stupid I was for jumping into bed with my boss. Had she not been the one telling me to have fun in the first place? Would I have had the guts to do it if she didn’t advise me to go wild and lose all inhibitions? Probably not, but for once I was happy to have listened. A week with Jett and I felt more alive than I had in ages. However, I wasn’t so naïve to believe this trip would go on forever. It was just sex and a bit of fun. Sooner or later, one of us would grow bored and move on. No matter what happened, I knew I wouldn’t go back to the old, dreary, safe me. I wouldn’t go back to being conventional. At least not any time soon. And for that I was thankful to both Sylvie and Jett.

 
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