Page 78 of Crimson Love

Then he pulled the covers back and tucked me in. I was still in shock from how the events of the evening played out that I hardly paid attention to Jett talking on the phone in a hushed tone as he paced from the bathroom to the hall and back again.

I fell asleep alone in my makeup and only brushed my teeth when I got up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom. When I came back to bed, Jett pulled me into his arms and stroked my hair until I found sleep again.

Now the sun is up. It’s Monday, and I have no idea what the day will bring.

Jett is curled into me. The rhythm of his breathing is the only constant and reliable thing in my life at the moment.

Yesterday.

Today.

And I’d bet my life that he’ll be right here tomorrow.

Jett’s hand is tucked under his shirt that I’m wearing, splayed on my abs with the tips of his fingers tucked into my panties.

I need to get ready for work. At least I won’t have to say a prayer today before I start my stolen car in hopes that it will get me up the mountain to the manor.

I shift and try to pull out of his arms, but he stirs. I don’t want to wake him. He’s been all about me for days now, and even though he’s the picture of health, I’m sure he still needs his rest to heal from his surgery.

But when I try to gently pry his hand from my belly, his entire arm flexes, and he pulls me into his chest tighter. His lungs, that are as reliable as the sun rising and setting, pull in a deep breath as he buries his face in my hair.

“Jett,” I whisper. “I need to get ready for work.”

He presses his cock into the crack of my ass and mutters, “No you don’t.”

“I do. I need to be downstairs in an hour. Monday mornings are hectic from the weekend. I can’t be late.”

His voice is raspy with sleep, and his words are warm on my skin. “They can do Monday without you today. You’re not leaving this bed—at least not yet.”

“I don’t have that luxury. If I were sick on my deathbed, I’d find a way to go to work.”

His hand wanders up my body and lands on my breast for a squeeze. When he rolls my nipple between his fingers, I feel it everywhere, especially between my legs. “I talked to Devon last night. He told me to tell you to take the day off.”

“But I don’t have any vacation built up yet. I can’t just take the day off. I feel horrible enough that everyone—including my boss—is putting so much effort into helping me. I have to go to work.”

Jett presses his lips to my temple before he shifts far enough to push me to my back, but he still doesn’t let me go. He pushes up on his forearm and looks down at me. “When is the last time you took a day off?”

His wavy, dark hair is rumpled but his eyes are surprisingly sharp for having just woken up. “Yesterday was Sunday, so yesterday.”

“That’s not what I mean. I mean when have you taken a day off?”

I know the answer to that, but I lie. “I don’t know.”

“That’s what I thought. Every minute I spend getting to know you is like peeling another layer back. After last night, I can tell that you never had a day off on that damn boat. You’re taking today off.”

“No. I’m not prepared to be gone. I didn’t arrange for anyone to cover for me or —”

He interrupts me with a kiss ... and not a good morning peck.

This is an all-out, zero-to-sixty, possessive kiss. I feel it down to my toes. He wedges his heavy thigh between my legs and presses it right against my very wet panties.

I grip his shoulders to hang on and thank my middle-of-the-night self for brushing my teeth. Jett’s touch slides back up my body and tags the hem of the T-shirt on its way.

He breaks his kiss long enough to rip the shirt over my head, leaving me in my panties and him in boxers.

I put a hand to his chest to stop him long enough to talk. “As much as I’d rather do this, I have to get up.”

“You don’t get it. Devon didn’t suggest you take the day off. He ordered you to take the day off. He kicked your dad and Petrov off the manor property. He’ll do it over and over again if he has to, but he doesn’t want you around the manor by yourself, just in case.”