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JESSE
After one more deep exhalation, I opened my eyes and peered out the giant hotel window. It was still dark out, but I couldn’t sleep. My mind had been running a mile a minute, but I had finally come to a decision. Looking at my phone again, I hit send. I did it. I messaged Thatcher.
Jesse: We need to talk. Monday. Meet me at our spot.
I turned back to face the room, eyes now on the bed as I waited for Thatcher to respond. Ella was asleep, naked and sprawled out above the covers. Best sight of my life.
I couldn’t wrap my head around wanting her for—I mentally did the math—over fourteen years, ever since she was eighteen . . . and now here we were in a hotel room together in New York, and we’d made love. I wished she would’ve let me kiss her, but if that’d only complicate things for her more, I supposed I understood.
But staring at those pouty lips, partially open, as she slept . . . I was so damn tempted to wake her up and beg her to let me.
My phone dinged a moment later, and I dropped my focus back to the screen.
Thatcher: Is this what I think this is about?
Jesse: Just meet me at our spot at 14:00.
My mind was made up. I was quitting. But even after I left the CIA, I still had to find a way to make things right. Redeem myself first before I could ask Ella to be with me.
Hiding my work phone in my suitcase, I didn’t bother to see his reply. I was too anxious to join Ella back in the bed. To spend every second of the weekend with her.
It’d only been three hours since I told her she had to move on, and there I was planning to do the opposite. But I had to make certain that if she was in my life, she’d be safe. That my past wouldn’t endanger her. Put some distance between my time as a hitman and when I finally stepped up and showed her all my cards. Showed her my heart.
Ella moaned softly as I crawled in bed next to her. I wrapped a hand over her hip, and unable to stop myself, slid my hand down to the curve of her ass cheek. I was hard already. Just one look. One touch. I was ready to go.
Her eyes fluttered open. A soft, slow, almost surprised look from her. Like she was wondering if she was dreaming.
Same, darlin’. Same.
“This real?” she whispered, reaching for my chest, skating her palm over my pectoral muscle.
“It’s real,” I returned, nearly leaning in and kissing her. Forgetting her rule.
Thank fuck I could at least touch her. I drew her body against mine and she arched into me, bringing her pussy against my cock.
“Careful,” I warned. “I’ll slip inside you, and it won’t be an accident.” My heartbeat climbed as she stared deep into my eyes like she could see all of me. And I’d swear she still saw a soul there. I’d thought my job had robbed me of it. The devil, at least, owned it. For now. Until Monday. And then I was getting my life back.
“That wouldn’t be such a bad thing,” she murmured, rubbing her clit against me, and I clamped down on my back teeth.
Unable, or unwilling, to stop myself, I shifted and climbed on top of her. Pinned her beneath me. Let the heavy weight of my cock rest at her soaked center. I held her wrists alongside her head, allowing her to grind against me, to feel me. Fuuuuck.
“You’re going to come if you keep doing that.” I smirked. “Do you want to come that way, or do you want me to put my cock inside you?”
“Mmmm.” Her tits lifted and touched my chest. “You know exactly what I want, Jesse.”
I released one wrist at her use of my name and cupped her pussy before sliding two fingers inside her, my thumb caressing her sensitive spot. “You don’t come until I say so, got it?” I hissed.
She stared at me, a touch of defiance in her eyes, before she wet her lips and nodded.
I brought my mouth just over hers and whispered, “Good girl.”
The power that phrase had on her was intense, and we fucked. Hard.
And I still couldn’t believe it. Any of it.
Getting to spend the weekend with her was life changing; yet, come Sunday, I’d have to walk the fuck away from her.
Again.
