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I'm still dumping loads of cum into her when she goes completely lax in my arms. I catch her as she falls back and then lift her so that I'm holding her against my chest with her head burrowed into my neck.
I stroke the top of her head and run my fingers through that beautiful red hair.
“Mine,” I whisper with my cock still buried inside her.
Cindy is mine, and I'm never going to let her go.
CHAPTERSIX
Cindy
I don't knowwhat to do. I'm a wreck for the rest of the day, fumbling through the walk-in appointments that come in. I try my best to give my clients my full attention, but my mind keeps wandering back to the way Jesse took my virginity on the table in the back room over lunch.
The way he called mehis. The way I felt so safe and secure in his arms. The way I called him daddy and the way that seemed to make him even more crazed.
He kissed me several times before he finally reluctantly left. He has to practice. He made me promise not to cut any men's hair, which is totally freaking ridiculous, so I don't know why I heard myself agree to it. Maybe it's because I was still in that delirious, just-lost-my-virginity-to-the-hottest-guy-ever state.
He's got me completely fuck struck, and that scares me because I know it's more than that. He's not only fucked me physically. He's fucked me on an emotional level, and I can already feel myself getting attached to him. I hate to admit it, but I miss him even now.
And that's terrifying because I know when he eventually leaves me, it's going to destroy me. I don't think I can handle it. That’s why I've got to stop this before it even begins.
As soon as work is over, I head to me and my brother's favorite bar, but then I immediately wish I hadn't come here because all I can think about is how this is where I met Jesse.
Some random guy comes up to me and offers to buy me a shot. I give him a quick once over. He's not bad looking, but he’s no Jesse. In fact, he’s the complete opposite of Jesse with his blonde hair and blue eyes.
It's not like I'm looking to get laid, but maybe if I spend time with another man, it'll help me get my mind off of Jesse. I've got to do something or all the feelings swirling through me are going to drive me insane.
So, I let the guy buy me a shot of tequila, and then we sit on barstools, making small talk. I couldn't tell you the guy's name or a word he says. I mostly nod wordlessly, my mind drifting back to Jesse over and over again. I keep trying to focus on Mr. What's His Name in front of me, and I accept another shot when he offers one.
I finally start to loosen up and laugh at some stupid thing he says, but then I feel his hand skate across the top of my thigh, and I go completely tense.
This was a mistake. It feels sowrongto have any man other than Jesse touch me.
“Look,” I scramble for his name and when I can't remember it, I just skip over that part. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to give you the wrong impression, but I'm not interested.”
He frowns and looks pissed, and I guess I can't blame the guy. I've let him buy me shots and then I tell him I'm not interested. God, he probably thinks I'm just a lush looking for free liquor.
Before he gets a chance to no doubt chew me out like his eyes are telling me he wants to, he’s suddenly picked up by the back of his shirt and flung away.
I gasp as I look up and see Jesse's furious eyes blazing down at me. “You're lucky I don't break every bone in his fucking body,” he snarls as he glances at What's His Name where he’s sprawled on the floor.
I don't know if it's the liquor giving me liquid courage, but I thrust my nose in the air as I snap back, “I don't know who the fuck you think you are, Jesse Hamilton—"
He interrupts me with a roar. “He fucking touched you!”
He grabs my shoulders and hisses, “You’re mine!”
An undeniable warmth unfurls in my belly at his possessive words. God, what is wrong with me that Ilikehow caveman possessive he is?
The next thing I know he plucks me off the barstool and slings me over his shoulder like I'm nothing more than a sack of potatoes. He stalks out of the bar with me as I flail my arms and legs in protest, but he just captures my legs against his chest and then swats me on the ass in front of everybody.
I hear chuckles from a few men and women, and my cheeks flame. Thank god my face is covered by my long hair. Still, I'm seething at how he's treating me like a child.
He doesn't set me down until we get outside the bar, and no sooner does he than I rear back and slap him.
His nostrils flare as he glares down at me and captures my wrist when I go to slap him again. I don't know what's gotten into me. I'm usually not violent like this, but Jesse has my emotions in a spin.
He hauls me against his chest as he warns me in a low voice. “We’re not doing this, baby. If you think I'm going to watch you entertain other men, you're wrong. If you think it's going to push me away, you're wrong. Do I need to prove to you how insane I am over you? Do I need to actually murder someone for touching you? Is that what you want?”
