I’m sure of it.
“Yeah, I can stay,” I whisper, snuggling into his chest. “I’ll just need to call Jenna to let her know.”
CHAPTER 10
Emory
My eyes flutter open slowly and I come to the immediate realization that I’m in Jett’s bed.
After having stayed the entire night.
Of course, Jenna was fine with it when I called and asked her. More than fine, actually. She was quite enthusiastic about the prospect of me finally having sex after being celibate for so long.
Felicity was a bit more delicate. I wasn’t about to tell her I was staying at Jett’s for the night, but I did need to tell her I wasn’t going to be back in time to tuck her in. So that’s all I said, and she’d replied, “That’s okay, Mummy. Aunt Jenna does a great job.”
I was relieved she wasn’t upset, because if I sensed it in the slightest, Jett was just going to take me home. As it stood, I merely said, “I love you and I’ll see you in the morning.”
I fervently hope that I don’t get the third degree from her, but if she gets inquisitive, I’ll have to be creative in how much of the truth I can give her that’s age-appropriate. She’s nowhere near old enough to understand the physical needs and desires of men and women, and luckily, she seems oblivious to any of it since I’ve not dated since her father and I divorced over a year ago.
Regardless, I was given the green light and well… we didn’t stop for quite a while.
I have no clue what time it is but the bluish cast to the light through the shades makes me think it’s not far past dawn. I lean up onto my elbows, the sheet pulled up over my breasts, and look around the bedroom. I didn’t pay much attention last night. We moved from the living room floor to here, and we didn’t really leave it much after.
Dinner was a pizza that Jett retrieved from the delivery driver after slipping on a pair of sweatpants, but past that, we were pretty much naked and planted on his mattress the entire time.
And I don’t have one, single, solitary regret. Last night was fabulous and I’m so glad he and I decided we could have something light and casual. I know my body, which is a bit sore in all the right places, sure is appreciative.
I glance around and see a digital clock on the opposite bedside table from me.
6:22 am.
It’s Saturday and I don’t have to go into work, although I will work from the house at some point today.
Jett does have to work, the team plane leaving today for an extended road trip. I just don’t know what time. He’s not in the room with me, so perhaps he’s already gone. If so, I’m sure he’s left a note for me somewhere.
In the corner of his room near the closet, I spot a carry-on suitcase filled with folded clothes on the floor. Hanging from the closet door is a zipped garment bag. While I didn’t pay attention to the details of his room last night, I know those things were not there.
Was he packing while I slept? If so, he was incredibly quiet while doing so, I’m sure intentionally trying not to wake me.
Which also means Jett is probably still here at the condo.
The door to the master bath is open, so he’s clearly not in there. But it does remind me that I have to pee.
I slide out of the bed and pad across the thick carpeting to the white tiled bathroom. It has a huge jacuzzi tub that Jett promised we would try at some point, but we never got around to it.
I quickly use the restroom and wash my hands. I give a quick glance in the mirror to see my hair is a mess and decide Jett’s seen worse. I start to walk out, but realize Jett’s been up for a bit. What if he’s already brushed his teeth, and wants to kiss me, but I have monster breath?
Reassessment of the situation has me nabbing his toothpaste. I’m not gauche enough to use his toothbrush but instead use my finger to give my mouth a good scrubbing, then gargle thoroughly. As least if we kiss, he won’t die.
My breath minty and my bladder empty, I make one final decision and walk through the open door and into Jett’s closet. While I’m not shy about my body, and Lord knows Jett has gotten an eyeful of every inch of it, I feel weird prancing out of his bedroom completely naked. I assume my clothes are still lying on the living room floor where Jett stripped me bare when we arrived.
Luckily, he has a row of t-shirts hanging in his closet and I pull one free from a hanger, putting it on. It comes to mid-thigh and I feel sufficiently confident to walk out of the room and confront my “morning after” situation.
I’m not worried how he’ll react. I’m not worried if conversation will be awkward.
I know it will be fine because we agreed it would be casual and loose and easy, and neither one of us has expectations that can be failed at this point.
Easing the bedroom door open, I blank where the kitchen is for a moment, not actually having been in it. Like I said, we spent the entire evening in his bedroom.
Sometimes we were fooling around.
Sometimes we were having amazing sex.
Sometimes we were dozing.
And sometimes we even watched TV.
But his room is where I stayed.
I remember now the kitchen would be to my left, straight back off the living area, so I step out of his room and cut that way.
Before I see Jett, I smell food.
Bacon, more importantly, and my stomach rumbles. While the pizza was delicious last night, I know I burned far more calories than I put in.
I traverse a very short hall, then step into the kitchen, done in contemporary black cabinets and white marble countertops. Jett is at the stove, flipping bacon in a pan.
I can see immediately he’s not all that comfortable cooking, because when the bacon pops and grease hits his hand, he curses and jumps backward.
“Better let me do that,” I say and he jerks, turning to look over his shoulder at me.
“I can do it,” he replies. “Just not very well.”
Laughing, I move in beside him, take the fork from his hand, and nudge him out of the way with my hip. Instead of freely moving away, he loops his arm around my neck, taking my jaw and forcing my head to twist his way before he proceeds to kiss me absolutely breathless.
When he pulls away, he grins. “Good morning.”
“Good morning,” I reply, thankful I did a hack job brush of my teeth.
“I wanted to make you breakfast and serve it to you in bed,” he says, giving me a faux pout of disappointment.
I try not to look at him, keeping focused on the bacon. Because the little glance I got as I walked into the kitchen has me flushed.
He’s wearing nothing but the sweatpants he wore to grab the pizza at the door last night. They hang low on his hips and I got way too big of an eyeful of all his muscular glory above the waistband, my favorite being his left arm which has a thick band of tattoos around his bicep.
But what really got me, and why I don’t really want to look back, is that his sweatpants—while loose—do not hide his sizable dick swinging free in there. He doesn’t have an erection, but he has enough that I can see it outlined against the material, and now all I can think about is sex.
Again.
“So,” I say after clearing my throat. “You’re heading out on a road trip, aren’t you?”
Jett leans back against the counter to my right. “I have to be at the airport at noon. We’ll be back midday on Wednesday.”