I suck one nipple into my mouth, walking her toward the steps.
“You almost killed me with that thing,” I murmur against her.
She giggles, and I swear I’d do anything to hear that sound for the rest of my life.
“It took every ounce of power I had not to slide that little bikini to the side and taste you right there.” I set her down at the steps, grip tightening. “Now you get your tight little ass back out here with that thing on—so you can sit on my face.”
When she turns, I bite one cheek, making her squeal.
I peel my wet shirt off, toss it aside, and drop onto a lounge chair to wait.
When she comes back out, I let out a low whistle. “Fucking gorgeous.”And all mine.
I stretch out. “Get my pussy up here.”
She crawls onto the chair, hesitation in her movements, and I can tell she’s nervous.
I help her along, guiding her exactly where I want her. “Sit. Fully. No hovering.”
“You won’t be able to breathe,” she protests.
“If I die, then I die. The doors of Valhalla would open and welcome me—it’d be the most honorable death I could hope for.”
Then I pull her down, take one long, slow swipe of her wet cunt with my tongue and groan deep.
And as her taste floods my mouth, the thought hits me hard and unshakable.God, I hope she falls in love with me… because I’m already fucking gone for her.
Shanae’s name flashes across my phone.
It almost went to voicemail before I could answer at the last second.
“Cassidy.” Her voice is too fast, too sharp. “It’s your mom. She’s… something’s wrong. I’m taking her to the ER.”
The bottom drops out of my stomach. “What? What happened?”
“She’s been dizzy and her breathing’s shallow. She tried to brush it off, but?—”
“Okay. I’ll meet you there.” I cut in, already moving. I shove my feet into the first shoes I see and grab my bag with shaking hands.
Jaxon’s in his office, headset on, speaking in a low, commanding tone that says something’s going wrong with one of his companies. From the sound of it, whatever’s happening is big—voices on the other end are frantic, his jaw tight.
I hesitate in the doorway, knocking twice softly. “Jax?—”
His gaze snaps to mine, reading me in an instant. He doesn’t sayhold onorone minute—he just pulls the headset off and ends the call. “What’s wrong?”
“My mom… Shanae is taking her to the ER.” My voice wavers, and I hate it. “I need to?—”
“I’ll drive you,” he says, already standing.
“You’re working?—”
He crosses the space between us in two long strides, tilts my chin up with two fingers, and kisses me—slow, steady, grounding. “I’m driving.”
There’s no arguing with him when he uses that voice. The one that leaves no room for debate but still somehow makes me feel safe.
I nod, my throat too tight for words, and he’s already grabbing his keys.
I’ve never been so grateful for Jaxon’s reckless driving. Today, it feels like salvation instead of a death wish. We’re there in record time—no stoplights, no hesitation—just the city blurring past.
