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Hell, I might even be willing to pray for it, and that would be a first.
Chapter3
Macy
Istretch, cataloging my aching muscles and core. I smile, my eyes closing as the past twenty-four hours flood me with contentment I haven't ever felt.
When I woke up after my afternoon with Jett, he was already awake and chatting on the phone. He quickly hung up when I’d entered, and we spent the rest of the day talking about the most trivial things, getting to know each other.
He’d ordered pizza, and I’d listened as he regaled me with his list of the top action movies of all time and preference for classic rock above any amount of pop. I’d apparently fallen asleep on the couch as we watchedDie Hard, and yet again, he’d carried me to his bed, crawling in next to me and holding me in his arms through the night.
Sunlight flickers over my closed lids, and I'm tempted to bury my face in the pillow that smells of Jett. Of us.
Then I remember what day it is.
“Oh shit! It’s Monday.”
Reaching for my phone, undoubtedly placed there to charge by Jett, I dial my boss.
“Hello, Macy. What’s going on?” Dr. Moore answers.
“Hi, Dr. Moore. Apologies for not reaching out sooner, but I need to take some time away for a bit. Something’s come up, and my mom has another doctor’s appointment, so I want to be there for her.”
“Oh, of course. Sure, Macy. I can get a temp for the rest of the week, and Maggie can help fill in. How long do you need?”
“Thank you, Dr. Moore. The rest of the week is fine. My mom’s appointment is this Sunday. Could you use my remaining PTO?”
“All right, can do. I hope everything goes smoothly. See you next week.”
Dr. Moore hangs up quickly, not unlike him, but a familiar dread hovers over my head as my mind settles on my mom’s appointment. My hand quivers, and I drop my phone to the bed. I shake my head and wipe a pinky under each eye.
“I should probably go find Jett,” I say to myself as I get up, and the sheet falls away from my naked skin. “Ah. Yeah. My clothes are not in here. Okay.”
I look around Jett’s room, my eyes landing on a separate set of doors not marking his master bath. Opening it up, I find a massive walk-in closet stuffed with impeccable suits and shoes. The air inside smells like his rich cologne, something I could never place, and I sigh a bit. The lights come on automatically as I walk inside, and I retrieve a simple white button-down from the rack. Slipping it over my arms, it sits on me like a particularly short dress, and I grin.Perfect.
I warm as I remember the previous day. Looking at myself in the full-length mirror on the back wall, I notice an almost imperceptible change. I’m no longer a pure, chaste girl. Meeting my reflection’s eyes, there’s an ease there that I’ve never worn before, a comfort in my own skin I’ve always wanted.
Turning to make sure at least half of my ass is covered, I notice the faint red marks on my skin, decorations from Jett’s grip. God, everything with him was fire and frenzy. I should hate it, I know I should, but the way he acted, like he absolutelyhadto have me, I adored it. The depravity of his words would be scandalous to anyone at church, particularly my parents, yet I’m dreaming of round two.
A deeper truth hits me as I turn to go find Jett. I gave myself to him completely, and he’ll forever be the person I lost my virginity to. He must have known too, but the idea of bringing it up to him makes my stomach clench. I’m just glad I was smart enough to still be on the pill, despite the slim odds of having sex prior to yesterday.
I shut the closet doors behind me and walk out of the bedroom to find Jett cooking up a storm in the kitchen, wearing nothing but his boxer briefs. It’s a serious display of skills, made all the better by his shirtless appearance, as he cracks the eggs expertly and chops through the accompanying vegetables so fast I’m amazed he doesn’t slice through a finger.
Slinking up to the island, I slide into a seat, letting his shirt hike up over my thighs. “That’s quite impressive.”
Jett finishes chopping the red pepper and adds them to the hearty omelet cooking on the stove, giving it a quick stir with a playful flick of his wrist.
“Thank you. I actually enjoy cooking. It’s taken a while to really get great at it, but it’s something to fill the time.”
As he turns to face me, my gaze lingers on the sculpted muscles of his arms and chest.
“Well, I’m sure it’ll be delicious.” I make no move to hide my obvious flirtation.
In a slow, smooth movement that elicits memories of last night, Jett brings his face near mine, a whisper away from kissing me. Heat pools between my legs, but I’m not running from it this time.
“It’s hard to fuck up an omelet, but thanks. This one is mine.” He uncovers a plate I hadn’t noticed, my eyes plastered as they were to his abs. “This one is yours. Hot off the grill.”
The eggs look like something right out of a cooking show, garnishes and all. “Ooh, looks amazing.”
