“Not yet,” he whispered. His finger pulled out of me, leaving me empty and frustrated. I frowned as I listened to his footsteps walking across the room, Jett picking something up, then laying back down on the bed.
Something rustled.
“Open your mouth.” His sharp tone left no room for discussion. My heart pounded frantically against my ribcage. I swallowed hard but didn’t follow his command.
“Do it, Brooke.” His deep voice dripped with impatience.
This was his chance to prove he loved me and would never hurt me—his chance to earn my trust. I had to take the plunge to see it for myself. So I opened my mouth and in that instant I knew I did far more than trust him. My passion for him was big, but my love for him was bigger. I wanted to please him because when I lost my heart to him, I also gave away my vulnerability. I surrendered to him and he conquered me—body and soul. Trust was the only thing left to give freely. The only thing we could earn, the only thing we are still learning.
Something sticky hit my tongue. Sweet, soft and creamy like chocolate.
“Bite,” Jett instructed.
I bit and sucked, then swallowed and opened my mouth again, realizing it was chocolate transitioning from a rich cocoa flavor to an intense, sweet hazelnut cream. His mouth descended upon mine again, the chocolate melting between our tongues.
I moaned because it was delicious.
His kiss was heavenly chocolate melting delicious.
Heat gathered between my legs and my clit began to pulse gently, silently demanding attention. As though reading my thoughts, Jett’s mouth left me and began to move down my chest and abdomen as something cold and sticky poured between my legs, trickling down my entry.
“What is that?” I asked breathlessly.
“Chocolate.” I could hear his amusement and it drove me nuts that I couldn’t see his expression. His hot breath traveled down my abdomen, and then his tongue touched the right spot, the sensation of licking and sucking sending my pulse into a frenzy. My nipples peaked for him, urging him to touch them, but his attention was focused elsewhere.
More chocolate dripped down my skin—so much I was sure he was using the whole tube, smearing it all over the bed, when I remembered the spread. He had thought of everything. I made a mental note to give him credit for that, but the thought was short-lived because his tongue began to swirl in a circular motion, and his finger found my entry, filling and stretching.
Oh, God.
I was dying.
Scratch that.
I was dying and going straight to heaven.
Or maybe he was my downfall and I was going to hell.
I moaned and switched off my brain as heat began to pool into my abdomen. His finger thrust inside me, twisting and circling as his lips sucked my clit so hard my whole body reacted. Moisture gathered between my legs, spread by his fingers thrusting rhythmically until I reached the brink of lust. From there it was a mere step into total surrender.
“You’re so good,” I moaned. “I want more.”
“I love when you demand,” he whispered. “Chocolate and your juices. It’s my favorite combination.”
My cheeks caught fire, but I had no time to feel mortified because his teeth began to graze my clit, sucking gently.
And then his mouth was back on my lips. One hand squeezed beneath the nape of my neck, the other lifted my leg. In one swift movement he slammed inside me, his thick erection burning its way deep into my core. The bed shook, or maybe it was my body as he began to crash into me. I didn’t care that we were spreading chocolate all over the sheets. I wanted him. I wanted every bit of what he had to offer. I moved my hips to meet his thrusts, listened to the sexy noises coming out of his hot mouth as his thrusts became deeper and faster. Hot waves of heat rocked my abdomen, promising to erupt in a raging fire.
I lifted my hips to give him deeper access, and more he took. Feeling every hard inch impaling my flesh, I lost reason, consumed by his passion for me. The hot flames of a nearing orgasm began to build inside my womb, and my body rocked with the first tremors.
“You’re so damn addicting. Like a narcotic.” His hips pushed his erection deep into me in fast short thrusts. He was close. I could feel his shudders, and my clit ached in response, desperate for relief.
In darkness, I moaned and lifted off the bed as far as my restraints would allow, my mouth searching his. Our tongues connected in a fast erotic dance mirroring the movement of his hips, sending electrical shards of pleasure through my heart and soul. Jett’s fingers pressed against my clit hard, the sudden sensation unbearable. I gasped against his mouth. My soft flesh tightened around his hard shaft, and I came undone around him, faintly aware of Jett’s groan of fulfillment tearing from his chest.
My skin sizzled with electricity as our bodies merged into one, over and over again, until there was nothing more to give. Exhausted, I slumped against the sheets and closed my eyes. Fingers removed my restraints and blindfold. Jett pulled me against his hot body and wrapped his arms around me. The intoxicating scent of chocolate and our lovemaking was my last conscious thought.
Chapter 6
AN HOUR LATER, my fingers traced the contours of his tribal tattoo. It was a gang thing, he once explained, and part of his former life. He had done so many things, seen the world from different perspectives, and in some way touching it was my chance to connect with some aspect of it.
I watched the light of the candles reflected on his bronze skin and wondered for the umpteenth time whether I might ever know him—the real him, the parts he so carefully kept hidden.
“What’s wrong, sleeping beauty?” Jett asked, sensing my emotional undercurrents.
I shook my head and took a deep breath to clear my thoughts. “Nothing.” I knew he wouldn’t drop it, so I said the first thing that came to my mind. “I just realized I never had sex in a puddle of chocolate before. It’s kind of strange to wake up surrounded by the scent of chocolate.”
“I feel the same way, and I’m glad you were the one to experience it with.” He kissed the top of my head.
“Hope I’ll get to return the favor one day. That’s if I ever win one of your games.”
“We’ll see about that.”
I hated to be away from him, but some needs couldn’t be ignored. “I need to visit a certain room,” I said with an apologetic smile.
“Ah.” He moved aside, but his grip didn’t let go of me immediately. “Be back soon.”
“I will,” I whispered, and left for the bathroom. After a quick shower, I wrapped myself in an oversized towel and decided to borrow Kim’s hairdryer. It usually took me a while to get my hair dry, courtesy of my unruly curls, so I left it half damp before Jett got bored and kicked in the door. Not that he had ever done that, but he was on a schedule, so I figured he might have a few more plans lined up before his twenty-four hours were up.
I shrugged into the robe again, ignoring just how short it was in the bathroom light. Knowing Jett’s appetite, I reckoned we probably wouldn’t venture far from the bedroom, so no one beside Jett would ever see my ass. With a last glance in the mirror, I stepped out of the bathroom and stopped dead.
The first thing I noticed was the light streaming in through the windows. Jett must have pulled back the curtains, bathing the room in glaring brightness. The next thing I noticed was that, in my absence, he had removed the candles, and the sheet covering the bed was gone, together with his bag.
“Jett?” Calling his name, I walked downstairs and stopped. His voice carried over from the living room. I strained to listen but couldn’t make out any words, so I inched closer as a sense of déjà vu gripped me. On the last day in Italy, Jett had almost shot two intruders who got away with all evidence we had gathered on the Lucazzone estate. The fear of having someone watching us, waiting to strike when we least expected it, had caused me a few nightmares and never quite left me. And now it was coming back full force.
Ignoring the frantic drumming of my heart, I sucked in air a few times, forcing oxygen into my lungs. Unlike back in Italy, no one knew we were here, so my sudden pang of fear was unreasonable. Still, I couldn’t stop the beads of sweat gathering at the nape of my neck. I took another lungful of air and stepped into the living room. Jett was standing near the windows overlooking the backyard; his back was turned to me, and his phone was glued to his ear.
“You do that.” His voice sounded strangely anxious and strained, which managed to worry me even more.
I knocked softly on the doorframe to get his attention, and he turned to signal he had acknowledged my presence before turning away again.
“I’ll be fine,” he said. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of things...Okay.” He hung up, his hand clutching at his phone, his gaze fixed on a point outside the window.
Hesitating, I inched closer and stopped next to him. His eyes were distant, and his face was a mask of fury. From the way he was standing, motionless, with his shoulders slouched, I couldn’t shake off the feeling that something bad had happened. Something felt horribly wrong. My fingers itched to touch him, but I didn’t dare. Not before he told me what had happened.
“Jett?” I probed softly.
He didn’t stir, didn’t look at me.
“Jett? What’s wrong?”
A few seconds passed in silence. His troubled gaze brushed our feet, as if recalling where he was, or maybe he just fought for strength.
“My father died,” he said at last. His voice was so low, strained and choked, I wasn’t sure I heard right.
“What?” I whispered. I shook my head, unable to comprehend the meaning of his words. It couldn’t be. I clasped my hand over my mouth in shock. “Oh, my God.”
Jett turned to me, his eyes meeting mine. They were filled with pain.
“My brother was called to the morgue this morning. He phoned to say my father had been on his boat when it blew up yesterday.” I watched him walk over to the couch and slump down. “He didn’t survive it.”
I sat down next to him.
“I’m so sorry, Jett.” I squeezed his hand in the hope the gesture would convey more meaning than the probably most overused phrase in the world. Even though they had not been close and Robert Mayfield used to belong to Alessandro’s secret club, he was still Jett’s father. I watched the way Jett sat, defeated with his head buried in his hands, and couldn’t stop my tears from falling. We never got the chance to tell his father we were expecting. I had never even met him.
“It’s all my fault.” Jett looked up, his eyes meeting mine, searching for the confirmation I wouldn’t give him. I inhaled a sharp breath and let it out slowly. It killed me to see him suffering like that.
“No, Jett. You can’t blame yourself.”
“But it is, and we both know it.” He pulled his hand out of my grip and got up, his face turning into a mask of anger. He punched the wall and I jerked back in shock. “He called two weeks ago, right after we returned from Italy. I didn’t want to talk with him because I was angry. If only I’d met with him, maybe this wouldn’t have happened.”