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She presses her hands to her stomach, and for a second, I think she’s gonna say she feels sick because the look on her face is weird. But then she lets out a long breath, and though it makes no logical sense, she evenlooksa few inches taller.
“I feel free,” she finishes.
She’s been chattering away since we left the wedding, thanking me profusely and then asking if I saw the scratch on her face from Paisley’s nails, which I definitely did. When I jerked Paisley from Janey and saw the red streak down her cheek, it was all I could do to not destroy Paisley in front of everyone for daring to mar Janey that way. Not physically—I wouldn’t attack a woman. But with everything I know about Miss Paisley Roberts, now Mrs. Paisley McMahan, I could destroy her marriage and the rest of her life without ever leaving the dance floor.
I approached being Janey’s fake boyfriend the same way I would any undercover assignment and researched everyone who might play a part in the ruse—the bride, the groom, her parents and sister, the bridal party, and even aunts and uncles. That’s how I knew about Nikki’s birth control mishap—for the love of fuck, do not post things on social media, people!—but that’s nothing compared to the skeletons in Paisley’s closet.
I thought about spilling all the tea to Janey, thinking maybe it’d help her see that Paisley wasn’t so scary, but I’m glad I didn’t. If I’d made Paisley less, Janey wouldn’t feel so triumphant about tackling her bully now. As it stands, Janey confronted, stood up to, and defeated the biggest monster of her life on her own.
Well, I helped a little.
But that freedom she’s feeling, it’s hers and hers alone. She earned it.
“I’m glad,” I tell her as I relax, letting my legs spread out and laying an arm along the back of the couch to enjoy her celebration.
But she’s done dancing. She launches herself at me, straddling my lap with a knee on either side of my hips and her core hovering just over my dick, which is standing up at attention now. Janey places a hand on each of my shoulders and smiles as she looks me in the eye. “Thank you so much, Cole. I can’t explain how much that meant to me.”
I can see it in her eyes, can read it in her mind, and I try to stop her. “Janey, what I said last night... it’s still true. You don’t owe me anything. I’m glad to help.”
It’s true. Helping is what I do. But I never get this involved, go off-plan the way I did, or give a shit about the end result. Janey’s different. I’m breaking all my own rules for her, and that wide, perfectly imperfect smile is all the payback I need or want.
She places a finger over my lips and shushes me. “Shut up, I have something to say.” Her eyes go wide at her own words. “Sorry, I’m still a little riled up, I think.”
But I want to hear it, whatever’s on her mind. I move my hands to her hips, giving the left one a squeeze, and her eyes flutter shut for a moment. When they reopen, she looks determined to say what she wants to say.
Her voice is quiet but strong as she tells me, “Last night, you said you wanted me but didn’t want me to feel like I owed you anything. But I do.”
I growl angrily, not liking where this is headed. She gives me a pretty decent glare, or at least one that’s better than her previous attempts, so I let her have her moment.
“You helped me find me again,” she continues. “And I’m not having sex with you because of that.”
“We’re not having sex at all,” I snap, the reminder more for me than her. “But I need you to get up or I’m gonna forget that I’m being a gentleman with you,” I warn her because she’s relaxing too, her core getting closer and closer to resting fully over mine. And I’m this close to shoving her panties aside, unzipping my slacks, and jerking her down to sit on my cock, rather than my lap.
She doesn’t move.
“Yes,” she purrs, “We are. I want to have sex with you because I owe me, Cole.”
“What? No.”
She continues talking like I didn’t say a word, running right over me, “I haven’t had sex in months, never had an orgasm with Henry—”
I rumble, “Don’t say his name when you’re sitting on my cock, Janey.”
Pink rises in her cheeks at my gruff tone and crude language. But rather than putting her off, I swear she’s trying to get herself roughly fucked because she moves her hips back and forth, barely brushing over the ridge in my pants. “Or what?” she says softly. “You’ll fuck his name right out of my mouth?”
I pull her down hard, moving her hips myself, not for her pleasure, but to rub myself with her heat. I expect her to be appalled or jerk away and skitter from the big, scary asshole guy, but she...
Fuck me, she moans.
Her head falls back, exposing the length of her neck, and her hands move to my chest for leverage as she bucks, using me.
“I need this. I deserve this. I owe myself an experience with a sexy man.” She’s talking to herself, but then she lifts her head to look at me again. “I think you can make my body do things I’ve only read about. I want you, Cole.”
Every word is coupled with a stroke of her pussy against my cock, and though I’m fighting to keep control, I’m losing the battle. “Janey.”
She’s begging for it. I’m pleading for her to stop. Only one of us is going to get our way. And the way things are going, I’m going to lose this battle.
“Last night, I wanted you to help me forget.” She shakes her head, her curls dancing wildly and her eyes slipping shut again. “But that’s not... help me remember... me,” she pants out.
