J.J.
“When you telling her, Boss?” Kemp brings the bottle of Jack to his lips, raising an eyebrow as if he’s anteing up the pot.
I don’t acknowledge his question, finishing up an email on a major acquisition. It’s another deal done for Big Enterprise.
“She’s strong, you know. Navy can handle it.”
He’s right, but I’m not about the fuck to tell him that. It’s been a week since the theater room. The night broke my heart and warmed it at the same time. Watching an adult woman fear everything around her is enough to bring a grown man down. It was the amazement and awe in her expression that warmed my stone-cold heart. Her vibrant eyes sparkled once the Dr. Pepper rolled over her taste buds. She woke up every part of me.
“Waiting to see what Jordan’s next move is,” I admit, closing my MacBook. “Thought the bastard would’ve already been coming after us. Maybe it was just an empty threat.”
“No.” Kemp shakes his head, tilting back his tumbler again. “Men like Jordan don’t play around. The extensive check I did on the cartel proves so.”
“Then what the fuck is he doing?” I slam my desk.
My palms burn against the grain of the wood, taking me back to the night I destroyed my office. Navy’s frightened stare races in along with her sinking back into her shell. I release the frustration by running both of my hands through my hair. I fight like a motherfucker to keep my temper reined in. It’s beginning to be a daily fucking battle.
“Invite one of your side chicks over and get laid. You fucking need it.” Kemp stands up and leaves my office without another single word.
The bastard is right again.
“Goddammit.” I slam the desk again, not able to do anything else.
The memories of the theater room and Navy pressed against me, and the thought of fucking, has my cock punching at the zipper of my jeans. It’s wrong. So damn wrong. No matter which way I slice it, I can’t find even one ounce of rightness in it. I need to fuck. It’s what I do. I crave it like no other. Going from fucking daily and as many women as I want to nothing is driving me mad.
I stride out of my office, slamming the door without thought. I wince when it echoes through the different levels of the house. I’m an out of control animal. I take the shortest route to my bedroom, slamming that door too.
The steam from my shower begins to billow out the top as I strip bare. I wrap my hand around my cock, gripping the base with power and revenge before stepping into the shower. I jerk him slow at first. When the hot water hits my skin, I allow my eyelids to shut.
I see her. The woman who is healing and making leaps and bounds daily. The woman I want to own. I slap my palm against the granite tile, pissed at myself for indulging the thought. I’m sick. There’s no other way about it.
My hand continues to slide up and down my dick. Fast one pass and then slow and dragged out the next. I work the tip over and over and can still see one set of helpless, spell-inducing set of eyes. I don’t fight it away. I drown in it this time, letting it control me.
Sparks ignite up the length of my spine; my balls tighten before the pulse of my release controls me. I roar as the sensation of cum sprays in the shower, some of it running down my thigh. I see her again on her knees before me, licking up the aftermath.
I let my head fall back on the tile of the shower wall, limp dick in hand, and for the first time in a long time, I miss my parents. Preston would’ve listened. I could tell him everything with no judgment. He might not have had the answers for me, but a listening ear is what I crave.
The storm brewing inside me is violent and about to win the battle. I need a release. A real one with flesh slapping. Kemp was right. Decision made.
I dry off and slip back into my worn blue jeans. I don’t bother with a t-shirt since my clothes will be coming off soon enough. I glance around in my room only to realize I left my cell phone down in my office.
The house is quiet. Faye is off to her quarters for the night, watching some mindless shit on television, and Kemp is more than likely fucking a sweet pussy already. I grab my cell phone from my desk, scrolling through my contacts, picking my own satisfying choice. The list is long, and my need to fuck is out of control. I mindlessly choose Rebecca. Fuck me if I can even put a face to her name. Hell, not even hair color.
She responds immediately. I alert security and instruct them to bring her up to my room once she arrives. I don’t have to tell them which door to bring her in. They know all too well to use the side door that leads right into my bedroom. It’s my rule. I fuck them, and they leave. The only women to ever set foot in the rest of my place have been Whitley, Faye, and now Navy.
Whitley. Just her name brings out another set of torrid emotions. My brain scrambles, wrestling against itself to forget her, let her fly. Before I know what I’m doing, I’m pulling up her texts on my phone. Her sweet, gorgeous face smiles brightly back in all of the pictures from her in practical pajamas in her new bed to her in a tiny black dress leaving nothing to the imagination. She’s flourishing. I should be happy. I’m not. I miss her. I miss her constant presence in my life.
“Silence. I just want some damn silence,” I say to myself, tucking my phone into my back pocket.
I stop at Navy’s door on the way back to my room. Why? Not going even to begin to process that question. Pressing my ear to the door, there’s nothing but silence. The greedy bastard in me craves one more glance at her sleeping. Her features are coated in peace like the other night when she fell asleep on my shoulder. I’ve never seen anything prettier than that.
The door cracks when I open it. Moonlight shines in her room, lighting it up. I notice her closet light is also on. The bed is empty. My heart stills in my chest. She’s gone. A pile of blankets peeking out on the other side of the bed grabs my attention. I creep into the room to examine it further.
What I see devastates me to the core. Navy is curled up in a ball with blankets twining around her, her cheek propped up on her hands. I glance over to the bed and then back to the floor. It doesn’t take me long before I realize she hasn’t spent one damn night in that bed. I also don’t have to ask questions as to why. Fucking Jordan.
I react before thinking out the consequences. Bending down, I pull the blankets wrapped from around her and scoop her up in my arms. Navy startles as I expected.
“It’s me, J.J.” I press my lips to her forehead. “You are okay.”
Her sleep-filled eyes open, taking in the scene.
“This is my home. Guests don’t sleep on the floor. You hear me?”
She blinks once then twice before nodding.
“Navy, this is a fucking non-negotiable issue.”
“Habit,” she croaks.
I nod. “Habit broke.”
My knees sink into the mattress as I lay her tiny body in the bed. The hem of her shirt rises, showcasing her creamy skin. I smile seeing her belly filling out. She was frail when I brought her here.
I grab the blankets from the floor, putting them on her and making sure she’s comfortable before I leave. I stand back, running my hand through my hair and stopping at the back of my neck, wrenching out the stress and tension.
Navy shocks me by grabbing my wrist. “Stay.”
Silence lingers between us.
“Please stay until I fall asleep.”
I answer by crawling in the bed next to her. Navy rolls so her back is to me.
“I haven’t slept in a bed for years.” Her voice cracks, and she quits speaking.
I close the distance between us, placing an arm over her hip, letting her know I’m listening.
“I don’t even remember why he made me sleep on the floor. One night, I was so exhausted I laid on the bed. Jordan wasn’t home yet. Next thing I knew I was being ripped up by my hair and tossed across the room. Long story short ended up with two broken ribs and a shattered wrist.”
No matter how horrible my demons are that live under my skin, they don’t hold a candle to hers. I pull her closer to me until our bodies meld together. I lean up and kiss her temple.
“He’ll never hurt you again, Navy.” I curl my fingers in the sheets pressed to her front, hoping like hell I’m right. I’ll die before that fucker touches her. I don’t care if it was Navy or another woman; they don’t deserve the brutality of any of it.
“He will.” Her voice is so light I barely manage to make out the two words.
“Do you trust me?” I ask her.
“It’s not that. You have no idea how powerful Jordan is.”
“Do you trust me?” I ask again.
She doesn’t answer right away. When she does, it’s again a barely there whisper as if she doesn’t believe her answer.
“Yes.”
“Go to sleep, Navy. I’ve got you.”
I have no idea how much time passes before Navy’s breathing begins to even out. I wait even longer, wanting to ensure I don’t wake her. When I slip from the bed, it takes everything inside me to walk out of her room. The noise in my head is at an all-time high, making me insanely pissed off again. I slam my eyes shut. Whitley’s face. Navy’s face. My mom’s face. All of them at one time were shattered. It’s all too much. I need silence.
Rebecca perches on the edge of my bed when I walk in. I grip the bottle of Jack I snagged on my way here then take three long pulls. She knows the drill. Her fingers scoot her skirt up around her thighs. She spreads her legs then runs a hand through her platinum blonde hair. My stare goes to her very fake yet amazing tits.
“York,” she purrs, standing to stride to me.
I jerk my chin. Rebecca goes to her knees before snapping open the fly of my jeans. She pulls out my rock-hard cock. I don’t even have the time to beat myself up for this before her lips wrap around the head.
“Christ.” I throw my head back, pumping into her mouth.
Her teeth drag along the top and bottom while she rolls my balls in her palm. I take a handful of hair, gripping it tight and forcing her mouth to fuck me harder. She gags and moans, setting me on fire. I take another drink of the Jack then reach in my nightstand for a joint. I need a motherfucking few hours of peace and pussy.
“Up,” I roar, tugging her up by the hair. “Naked. Bed.”
I light the end of the joint, taking a long pull and holding it in. Rebecca’s eyes light up. I ain’t fucking sharing, too bad for her. After three long and steady hits, I put it out on the nightstand, not giving a fuck.
Rebecca is spread out for me by the time I roll a condom over my dick. She’s on her back, legs spread, and fingers running through her wet folds. Sorry, Rebecca, don’t want to see your face. One final pull from the Jack bottle before I set it on the nightstand, and I roll Rebecca over to her stomach and bury myself balls deep without warning.
She cries out in shock and pleasure as I pound into her. I run my palm up her spine until my hand stops at the base of her neck. I apply pressure until her face is out of my memory. Nothing too rough, just something to help me cope, and by the sounds of it, Rebecca is enjoying herself while wetting my cock.
Silence.
It surrounds me. My brain stops. Sensation takes over, leaving nothing but silence.