“I don’t want you to stop, either.” I wet my lips and his lashes lower to the movement.
“Good, because I’m in this for the long haul, Hayden. And if he doesn’t like it, that’s too fucking bad.” The cords in his neck flex as he stabs a finger toward the back seat. “That’s my kid, not his.”
Sweet Jesus. A shiver runs down my spine and I fail miserably at hiding it. With all that testosterone, it’s no wonder I got pregnant with condoms.
“You need me to talk to him?” he asks, and I quickly throw my hands up between us.
“God, no. It’d only make things worse, believe me.” Lane’s boxers are going to be in a bunch about this meet-up today as it is.
“All right.” Jesse takes a step back and dips his chin. “But the offer stands. You need me, you tell me.”
Swoon. “Okay.”
A moment passes with the two of us just staring at each other in silence. His eyes dart between mine and it’s almost like he wants to say something more, but thinks better of it.
Finally, he clears his throat and takes another step back. “You want me to follow you to your place?”
“Um, yes. Please. I just need a few minutes to get some things together for him.” And to cool down, too.
“See you then.” He walks backward for a few steps, before turning on the heels of his boots and leaving me to sway like a sapling in a storm.
Butterflies and swooning over Jesse Enders? God help me.
Chapter 10
HAYDEN
Hot lips and a slow, sensual tongue ease their way down the center of my torso, laving around my belly button and then across each of my hips, before calloused hands and broad shoulders nudge my legs apart.
“So pretty,” he murmurs against the sensitive skin on the inside of my thigh. “My favorite fucking place on earth.”
Oh, God. My fingers feather into his hair and hold on tight as he buries his face in my heat and inhales so deeply that the air in my own lungs seizes.
I know what’s to come. I know how good he’s about to make me feel, because he’s done it so many times before. It’s just been so long…
“Mmm…” His nose brushes my clit as he dives in, and I gasp, my hips lifting from the bed and pulsing against his face from that single touch.
“Please,” I beg, and he growls, roughly pushing my legs even further apart, so he can give us what we both want.
His tongue licks across every inch of my pussy, delving into my folds and swirling around my already swollen clit until the room spins and my ears ring. The second his lips close around my bead, sucking just right, the tug of orgasm begins to wind. And he hasn’t even used his fingers yet.
“You taste so fucking good,” he praises me, his voice low and hungry. “He doesn’t do this for you, does he, baby?”
I shake my head from side to side against the pillow, the ache between my legs radiating through my body until the weight of it makes it hard to breathe.
“Please,” I plead again, fingers shaking as they curl into his hair. “Please make me come.”
He growls again, lifts my ass, and I am right there…
“Jesse…” I moan his name and writhe up against his face and then suddenly he’s nuzzling into my neck as his hand closes around my breast.
“Mmm, you thinking about me?”
I startle at the voice in my ear and the flick of a tongue against my earlobe.
“Just me, babe,” Lane husks, his thumb stroking over my nipple and sending a shudder down my spine.
“Stop.” I shrug him off, both of my hands pushing back into my hair as I suck in air like I’ve been trapped underwater.
“You alright?” His fingers walk up my arm and another shiver rolls through my body.
A dream. A freaking dream.
“Yeah,” I rush to say, as guilt begins to fester in my conscience. “I must have been dreaming.”
“Uh huh.” Lane chuckles. “And from the sounds of it, we were having a good time.”
My stomach whirls and I gulp down against it. “I-I don’t remember.” Glancing away as heat fills my cheeks, I grab my phone to check the time just as Lane’s alarm goes off on the other side of the bed.
“Dammit.” He groans and rolls away to shut it off. “Five o’clock comes too damn soon.”
Yeah, well, at least it came.
God, I’m going to hell.
“You want to get naked quick before Jett gets up?”
Wait, what? “Didn’t you get my text?”
He’d worked late last night, so we haven’t technically talked since this time yesterday morning, but I texted him before I even left the Cabela’s parking lot to let him know that Jesse was taking Jett. Just like he’s asked me to do.
He stills for a moment and then reaches for his phone again. “What text? When?”
Seriously? “Around noon yesterday. To let you know that Jesse was taking Jett.”
His expression goes icy. “Jesse was here?”
“Yeah.” Did he really not bother to check his phone all day? “We ran into him at Cabela’s—”
“What the hell were you doing at Cabela’s?” he balks, and I hold up a hand.
“Don’t snap at me.” I shake my head and sigh. “My dad’s birthday is tomorrow. Jett and I were looking for a present.”
“And Jesse just happened to be there? In the middle of the goddamn day?”
I blink at him, wishing I hadn’t said anything. What a great way to start the day.
“He was in town for work. He asked if he could see Jett…” I break off, pushing my hand through my hair again. “Look, it doesn’t matter. We ran into him and I offered for him to take Jett rather than coming back on Friday.”
Lane is quiet, his jaw tense.
“I texted you before I even left the store.”
He tosses the phone onto the bed and scrubs his hands over his face. “The text is open, but I don’t remember seeing it. Yesterday was busy, hence the late night.”
And yet he wants to be my first call. “I guess it’s a good thing it wasn’t an emergency.”
“I’m sorry,” he says, but his tone is more defensive than it is apologetic. “So no getting naked?”
Oh my God. I don’t bother answering. I just slide down beneath the blankets again and close my eyes, already anxious for him to leave. And we’ve been awake for less than five minutes.
He huffs out a frustrated breath and throws back his side of the covers, getting out of bed in a rush. As if he has anything to be pissed off about.
He grabs a pair of underwear from his dresser and, when the bathroom door closes behind him, I fall back and stare up at the ceiling.
He didn’t read the text.
He complained about feeling left out and then he doesn’t even bother to read the freaking text.
If I had called, would he have answered? I doubt it.
Irritation brewing, my mind flips back to the dream. And just as quickly as my temper flared about Lane, guilt flickers to life again.
The truth is, I dream about Jesse a lot. I don’t always remember them, but I know when it’s him I’ve been dreaming about, because I always wake up feeling lighter. Happier, even.