CHAPTER NINE
With two hot cups of milky tea in her hands, Paris entered the bedroom and nudged the door shut with her hip. Jett lounged on the mattress, propped on his elbows, studying her with the sexy grin that demanded she run over and jump him. The bulge in his pants hadn’t gone down, and she couldn’t lift her gaze off the package. Her insides hummed with anticipation. No other guy made her swoon like this.
In his presence, the world faded into the background, and all that mattered were the two of them. They could never keep their hands off each other. She’d never been able to work out why, but she craved Jett like no one else. For the past five years, she’d convinced herself she was over him, but now in his company, the truth crashed into her like the torrential rain bombarding the house. Jett hadn’t left her heart. The attraction toward him had only intensified. And if she didn’t get him out of her system, she’d implode.
So, what was wrong with one night of letting down her guard? Those memories from when she last lost her inhibitions with Jett stayed at the forefront in her mind. For too long she had believed that losing her baby was the universe’s way of telling her it wasn’t the right moment. But after catching up with Jett, the loss of her pregnancy resurfaced, along with the emptiness of everything else she’d lost.
“You going to stand there all night?” Jett asked, arching a brow.
Paris strolled across the room and set the steaming cups on the bedside table. She plonked down next to him, the bed bending under her and nudging her closer to him until their sides touched. She lay alongside him, staring at the white ceiling.
“Do you ever wonder how our lives would have turned out if we had our baby?” she asked, not sure why she’d blurted that out when seconds earlier she was ready to hump Jett. Her emotions were rampant and gushing. She had zero control over them.
“All the time.” His response was a whisper.
She shifted onto her side, and he did the same, both facing each other. “Really?”
“Why does it surprise you?”
She shrugged. “Just that you once said you never wanted children until you were older.”
He reached over and slid a strand of hair free from her eyelashes and tucked it behind her ear. “I also said I didn’t plan on staying in Yalgoo or working in my dad’s business. I now run the whole company and love living in the small town. Plus, I have a little boy I adore. Guess time changes us.”
Except Paris hadn’t changed much. Yesterday, she still held onto the belief that Jett had cheated on her, that her career was in Melbourne and not in a backwash small town, and that getting married was a possibility once she got her shit together. But Jett seemed happier, content, while Paris… Well, she was stuck in a rut, going nowhere. What she needed was a complete overhaul, a relook at her life, not jumping back into the rat-race right away.
“Are you okay?” Jett shifted, the mattress underneath her sending her closer to him.
“Yeah, for sure.” She released a long exhale. “Think I need to look at a few things in my life, you know? Priorities.”
“A few days at home is bound to help.” He smiled in that easy way that left Paris feeling comforted and protected, as if nothing could touch her.
She embraced her independence, but damn, it got lonely in the city with no family or anyone nearby. And after her bestie took her job, did Paris have any real friends? What if she wasn’t made for the big league, the cutthroat industry, or couldn’t trust any of the friends she’d made in Melbourne? Yet the thought of walking away from the years of hard work event planning had her choking. She’d miss the thrill of organising huge functions, seeing the satisfaction on the client’s face, and the adrenaline of completing a job.
Jett wiped a tear rolling down her cheek. “What’s going on?”
Paris gnawed on her lower lip, and Jett blurred behind her tears. “I lost my job. And a girl I thought was my friend helped push me out of my role so she could take my position.” The words poured from her mouth without pause. She hiccupped her next breath and wiped her cheeks. “I feel stupid crying. I loved where I worked but feel betrayed.”
Jett didn’t say a word. He snaked an arm around her and drew her against him. She buried her face into his chest, letting herself cry, getting it out of her system, just as she’d done the day she lost her job at Ziggy’s. Jett was the last person she wanted to open up to with her problems, yet she’d just told him what a loser she’d become.
He ran his fingers through her hair, holding her tight. Without another word, she curled against him, embraced by his strong arms, inhaling his cologne. Damn if he didn’t smell sexy, musky, and all hers.
When she pulled away, Jett loosened his hold, but didn’t release her. She adored that more than anything in the world.
“It’s just a job,” he said. “You’ll find an even better one. Including new friends. You’ll do amazing.”
The waterworks continued. “Why are you being so nice when I was mean to you and accused you of cheating?”
“Because we all make mistakes, and I know the real you. I’ve seen her, and I’m staring at her right now.” He placed a hand on Paris’s chest. “That’s the person I fell in love with all those years ago.”
She wiped her eyes. “I wish I could turn back time so things turned out better.”
“What would you do differently?”
With a long inhale, she said, “I don’t quite know.” And for once, she was honest with herself. If she hadn’t moved to Melbourne, she wouldn’t have discovered her passion for event coordinating or found her own independence.
“Sometimes things happen for a reason. Every single day, I think about my friend who died, and while it sounds selfish, taking Ace into my family was the best thing that happened after you left home. I was depressed for too long. But now I wouldn’t change my life. It’s everything I never knew I wanted.”
Paris studied Jett, but despite his words, he didn’t tear up like her. He must have dealt with the issues from his past, and she had a long way to go, but Jett gave her hope that all wasn’t so lost.
“Thanks,” she said, admiring Jett’s adorable eyes studying her. “I didn’t mean to blab about my problems or wet your shirt with my tears.”
Jett shrugged. “It’ll dry.” He ran his knuckles across her cheeks, and she softened beneath his touch, leaning against his chest, pretending her life wasn’t a mess.
“So, we going to drink that tea or let it go cold?” He smirked and pushed himself to a sitting position, breaking his hold of Paris. She pulled herself up, and both sat on the edge of the bed, silence engulfing them.
With a bent leg underneath her, she twisted toward Jett, trying to remember all the circumstances that brought them to this point in time and how their relationship ended up so broken. She traced his bulging biceps with a finger, caressing up and over his shoulders and across the back of his neck.
She couldn’t work out his expression, a cross between curiosity and flirting. After her crazy day, she wanted one thing: to fall into Jett’s embrace. So she leaned toward him, her lips brushing his.
Without hesitation, Jett’s arms glided across her lower back, guiding her toward him. She straddled his lap, their kiss never breaking. His fingers dug into her skin as he pressed her against him tighter, inhaling her. She moaned. He peeled off her top and bra together, and her skin tingled as he cupped her breasts while staring at her with hunger in his gaze.
“I’ve missed you so much.” He kissed her again, devouring her as if starving for her. Explosive shivers crawled up her spine from Jett’s kiss. Falling so deep, she let herself go. Every inch of her being, her soul, her thoughts, everything was lost. This was what she’d loved about Jett’s attentiveness. He made her feel as if only she existed. The gravity of her attraction shook her—how was she supposed to walk away from him now?
In the next moment, he lifted himself to his feet, her legs still locked around his waist, her arms hugging his neck, and he turned to face the bed. After lowering her onto her back, he left a trail of kisses down her throat and lower, his teeth gently gnawing on her pebbled nipples. All the while, he worked the button and zipper on her jeans, tugging them and her panties off in one go.
He slid open her knees, his attention dipping down her body. His smile had her trembling, and she’d lost all ability to speak, let alone keep her breaths in check.
Jett kneeled alongside the mattress and lowered his head between the apex of her thighs, his warm exhale on her flesh leaving her breathless. She’d imagined this moment for too long, and now that it was happening, her mind swam with anticipation and adrenaline. Within seconds, his mouth was on her most intimate spot, sucking and licking as only Jett knew how. She writhed beneath him, lost in pleasure. Each stroke sent a spark of elation through her body, and she never wanted the moment to end.
When he pulled away, she glanced down to find him wiping his glistening lips, grinning. “I’d ask you to scream for me,” he said, “but not today.” He laughed, and before she could respond, he dove in, his tongue tasting her. His hands stretched upward along the sides of her body, reaching and fondling her breasts. With his fingers squeezing her stiff nipples, she coasted on ecstasy. On her next ragged breath, euphoria rocked through her body, shaking her at the core, and she loved every second. She grabbed a pillow and pressed it across her face, screaming the pleasure swallowing her. Jett wasn’t releasing his hold either.
With the last threads of excitement tickling her inside, she came up for air and met a grinning Jett who was unbuttoning his shirt. The fabric fell off his sun-bronzed shoulders and revealed waves of muscles and a sexy triangle of hair across his chest, funnelling into a thin line vanishing into his pants. But they were coming off, and she gawked, not planning on missing a single moment of the striptease. Jett lowered his jeans and boxers. His hardness stood erect and as thick as she remembered. Exhilaration burned her from the inside out. Was this moment really happening?
“You sure are taking your time,” she teased.
He laughed, standing in front of her in the nude, drinking her in with his gaze. None of her previous boyfriends came close to Jett’s perfection. He leaned over and fumbled with something on the floor. With a condom in hand, he set aside the wrapper and glided it on himself.
“Can’t be too careful.” He winked and knelt onto the bed between her legs, hands on either side of her shoulders. His face was inches from hers. “I’ve been fantasising about taking you for so long.”
His mouth claimed hers, his tongue penetrating her at the same time as his tip pressed against her entrance, pushing into her.
She gripped his arms, her hips rising to better meet him, to give him full access. She’d been dreaming about having Jett since they split, and no one else ever filled her the same way.
At that point, when he rammed into her, a guttural scream pressed on her throat. He stretched her in the best possible way. Every part of her tightened and gripped him.
“Am I hurting you?” he whispered.
“God, please don’t stop. Make me forget myself.”
“Anything you want.” And he pumped into her with incredible resilience. Beneath him, she mewled, savouring each slap as it teased her to the point of insanity. His kiss returned, savage and starved, as if the earlier one was a practice run.
He slammed faster, sweat glistening across his brow. The tingles in the pit of her stomach deepened, the apex of her inner lips swollen and throbbing. Every single thought was focused on their point of contact as she stared into Jett’s eyes, losing herself. A river of exhilaration rushed through her, rattling her. She shut her eyes, clenching them tight, and rode the pleasure. Jett pulled out and released a low growl from his own explosion.
Pushing herself up, she reached out to run a hand down his pecs. “Damn, you’re even better than I remember.”
When he chuckled, the earlier elixir drummed through her again. Just hearing his voice turned her on, and she was a lost cause near Jett.
He stood and cleaned himself with the tissues on the bedside table, covering the condom inside one, and set it in the trash can in the corner.
Paris scrambled higher up on the bed and slid under the floral blanket. Jett switched off the light and joined her under the covers. She turned away from him, and he drew her closer until her head rested into the nest between his bicep and chest. His other arm held her waist, one leg folded over hers.
“I adore the way you smell,” he said, running his face across her hair.
Curled in his arms, Paris held onto Jett like a lifeline. Outside, the rain peppered the windows, and the wind howled.
This was the perfect place, perfect moment, perfect man. Then why did unease curl in her gut? She didn’t want to walk away from the career she was building in the city, and Jett had his life with his kid. How were they meant to get over that hurdle?