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No, no, no, no, no.
Jamie’s face neared mine, his eyes half-lidded from either the alcohol or his horniness. He ran his hands along my upper arms. I cringed at his touch. This was, by far, one of the stupidest ideas I’d ever had. And I’d had a lot of them over the past year.
I flexed my fingers, preparing a palm heel strike. This wouldn’t be pretty, but maybe Jamie would learn a thing or two about unwanted advances. All I’d done was accept an invitation to a party, but Jamie thought I was giving him one of my own.
Before I could jam my hand into his nose, a shoe was suddenly covering his entire face. I gasped in shock, faint recognition rolling over me—I knew that black Converse with the frayed laces. I knew that enticing smell. A storm had come for me.
I was hauled out of the pool by strong hands and thrown over his shoulder without so much as a word. A string of curses and splashing ensued, and I assumed Jamie was resurfacing after taking a kick to the forehead. He’d have the diamonds from the bottom of Jack’s shoe imprinted on his face for days.
“You can put me down, Jack,” I muttered.
He gave no indication that he’d let go. My arms dangled below me, the fabric of his T-shirt scratching my cheek. Something hard hit the crown of my head. It took a moment to discern it was his pistol. I moved my hands to the hem of his tee, keeping it from riding up. This was embarrassing enough without everyone seeing that my boyfriend had a Glock tucked into his jeans.
Despite dozens of heads turning in our direction, no one made a move to assist me. I imagined the murderous look on Jack’s face was enough to keep the hazy partygoers at bay. I buried my nose into Jack’s back, slamming my eyes shut while humiliation coursed through me.
Childish.
Disoriented, I didn’t realize I was standing until Jack pinched my chin between his fingers, tilting my face. I snapped my eyes open, taking in my surroundings.
We were in an elevator, but it didn’t have the same design as the one I’d ridden up in. This lift was simpler, with steel and mirrored walls. The black granite floor was like ice under my bare feet. My skin pebbled with goosebumps from the air conditioner. Jack had my cell and skirt tucked into the back pockets of his jeans, my heels dangling from his tattooed middle finger.
He looked irate, but heart-throbbing as usual. Jaw clenched, dark hair a mess of curls, eyes glowing a forest-green. Those orbs roamed over every inch of me, searching for possible injuries, cataloging my appearance. I knew what he was thinking. This outfit wasn’t any better than the one I’d stripped in. But, still, it was just a bikini—a pink, girlie swimsuit.
He towered over me, his body emanating the heat mine so desperately needed. His scent was intoxicating, calming my nerves despite the situation. Before I could make a move, he stepped backward, slamming his fist into the elevator panel. The lift came to an abrupt halt. I leaned against the handrail for balance, teeth chattering in anticipation. I could feel his wrath in the air.
“On your knees,” Jack ordered, his voice gravely.
He was pissed, but I reminded myself that this was the whole reason I’d gone to the party. To let him feel how angry he sometimes made me.
Childish.
As I knelt, Jack’s gaze never left mine. He was shooting daggers at me, but I didn’t bow my head. I wasn’t a puppy being scolded. I was a grown woman facing the consequences of my actions.
Jack wasted no time showing me what he wanted. He unfastened the button and fly of his jeans in a flash, his thick erection inches from my face. I couldn’t help myself from licking my lips. This cock and I knew each other well. We’d become fast friends and, more seldom, mortal enemies.
When I made no move to touch him, Jack let out a low growl. I looked up at him from under my lashes, giving him a glare of my own. I wanted him in my mouth, but I knew he wasn’t going to make this pleasurable for me. I needed him as impatient as possible so he wouldn’t last long.
“Do I need to spell it out for you, Ivy League?” Jack’s chest rose, his pupils dilating. His lust was taking over, which was good—better lust than rage. “You knew exactly what you were doing. Just how far were you going to take it?”
I glanced at my hands, which were resting on my thighs. My cheeks heated, shame hot in my blood. “I didn’t plan on him following me into the pool. I was about to leave when he cornered me.”
“I told you that kid wanted to fuck you. And yet you led him on. Coming to a party in the skimpiest bikini known to mankind, then drinking more than you ought to. You know better, Emma.”
“You’ve been drinking, too,” I challenged. I could smell that expensive whiskey on him. He wasn’t drunk—I’d never seen Jack that far gone. He could drink his weight in liquor and still be able to recite the alphabet backward.
Jack narrowed his eyes, squeezing the tip of his awaiting cock. “Suck.”
I smirked, giving my head a slow shake. I had every intention of making this easy for myself. Just the sight of me on my knees was getting him off. A bead of precum slid over his knuckles.
Expecting another order, I was surprised when he slapped my cheek with his dick. My jaw dropped in outrage and Jack took full advantage of that. He was in my mouth before I had time to yell at him.
The disrespectful little shit.
I placed my hands on his powerful thighs, attempting to push him off, but it was no use. He had me pinned against the mirror of the elevator, my head pressed against the wall. He slipped a hand behind my hair, protecting my skull from the hard surface as he thrust into me.
I choked, spit flying from my mouth, coating my lips and chin. My eyes watered, but I didn’t take them from his. His temper was controlling him, but those emerald pools were getting hazy, becoming lost in the way my tongue flattened against his shaft. I gripped his base with both hands so he wouldn’t be able to go as deep. I was still tipsy and I didn’t want to chance my stomach emptying if he gagged me again.
“Mine, mine, mine,” Jack chanted, throwing his head back, the tendons in his neck straining. There was no point in answering him, even if I could. He knew my answer—always, always, always.
