by Ann, Jewel E
She squeezed his erection that didn’t seem to be impaired from the alcohol. A smile formed on her lips, painted in deep red.
“Time to barter.” Jessica turned with a bit of a wobble and headed down the hall. She glanced back over her shoulder with a come-hither look just as he read the back of her panties.
Jonesing for Lukey
“Where are you going?”
“Your office.”
“Why?” He followed her, not really caring why.
“Because it’s the farthest point from our houseguests.”
She stopped in front of his desk and turned around. “Shut the door, Dr. Jones.”
He wasn’t into her daddy kink, and maybe it was the alcohol, but Luke liked the sexy way Dr. Jones rolled off her tongue.
“Now, strip for me.”
“What?” He squinted.
“Strip. For. Me.”
He fumbled with the buttons of his shirt. Unfastening his jeans was a bit more complicated than usual as well.
Jessica whistled. “That’s a seriously impressive erection, Dr. Jones. That’s the only head I want you thinking with tonight.” She glanced at the wall clock. “Or this morning.”
Luke could do that. His other brain wasn’t working anyway.
“Now. I think in less than forty-eight hours we’re going to spend eternity making love. So tonight I want Dr. Jones to fuck me. Can you do that?”
Luke looked down for confirmation. Yes, he was still in the game. He nodded.
“Good. I have a few rules.”
“Rules?”
“Yes. I come first and you can’t use your hands.”
“You always come first.”
She cocked her head to the side.
“Blowjobs don’t count.”
“Fair enough.” She leaned against the desk, drumming her fingers on each side. “I’m waiting, Dr. Jones.”
He smirked, taking the few short steps to her.
She tsked as he curled his fingers into the waist of her panties. “No hands.”
“Then take your panties off.” He bent down to kiss her.
She bit his lip, stopping his motion. “You take them off.”
“I can’t use my hands.”
She tsked again. “What do you have, like … ten years of college on your resume? Yet you can’t figure out how to remove my panties without using your hands?”
He bit her lip in return, even harder than she bit his as evidenced by her quick intake of breath. The one thing she liked more than being in control was Luke having it, but she didn’t like to give it away. She wanted him to take it. That much he knew for sure.
He planted his hands on the desk next to hers and kissed his way down her body. Using only his teeth, he peeled off her panties.
“Spread your legs.”
He kneeled before her, keeping his hands on the desk.
A breath away from burying his face between her legs, he looked up. Her hands threaded in his hair, her breaths coming one right after the other.
“No hands.”
Her eyes widened a fraction, a silent confirmation that he was taking all the control. She released his hair.
“Now I know why you brought me to my office.”
“Why?” she panted.
He loved watching her fall apart from needing his touch.
“Because …” He smashed his mouth against her, letting his tongue and teeth tease her most sensitive parts.
“Jones!” She shattered his eardrums and left fingernail indentations into the edge of his desk—and within thirty seconds she came first and hard. No hands required.
*
“Ahem.”
Luke shifted beneath Jessica. She didn’t want him to move. Sleeping on naked Luke beat any sunrise or hot cup of coffee.
“Ahem.” The distant voice got louder. “Sorry to wake you.”
“Mom!” Luke began to shift again then stopped.
He must have deemed it better for his mom to see Jessica’s naked body than his.
“Sorry, honey. Just wondered if you have any non-dairy creamer?”
“Second shelf in the pantry, toward the back. Now … go.”
Jessica couldn’t help but giggle.
“Stop laughing. Stop moving. My back is killing me.”
“Sorry, baby. Too old to sleep on the floor?”
“Yes and too old for sex on a hardwood desk.”
“I offered to be on the bottom.” Jessica rolled off him.
He grunted, turning onto his hands and knees before lumbering to standing. Jessica slipped into her panties. “I’ll see if our guests need anything else.”
“Wait.”
Jessica turned.
“You’re not dressed.”
“Oh … yeah.” The topless woman before him grabbed her pasties from the floor and stuck them to her nipples then slipped the argyle tie around her neck, in that same hideous knot. “There, dressed.”
“Not so fast.” Her grabbed her arm and yanked her away from the door. “I’m not marrying a nudist.” He slipped his button-down shirt on her and buttoned every single button. “Better, now go straight to our room and get dressed.”
“My wedding gown is more revealing than this.”
“Go.” He pulled on his briefs and jeans.
The clan arrived and were seated at the table. His other siblings had stayed at the hotel, which was the reception venue, but they all gathered for Felicity’s breakfast just like in Tahoe. Lane and Anne passed around their nine-month-old daughter, Gina, while they took turns eating. Lara ate with one hand while resting her other hand on her belly. She was only three months along, but after two miscarriages it seemed like a habit. Her husband, Drake, shared an occasional reassuring smile.
“Where are the youngest Jones kids?” Jessica asked through a yawn.
Everyone turned and smiled as she moseyed into the kitchen before getting dressed.
“Lake is still asleep in your bed with Jones and Liam is still asleep at the hotel,” Felicity said while handing Jessica a plate piled high with waffles and fruit.
“Where’s Zoe?” Jessica asked as she took a seat next to Tom.
Lara rolled her eyes. “Liam broke up with her … two days ago.”
“Don’t worry, I’ve already found a backup for her spot at the guestbook,” Felicity assured.
Jessica wasn’t a bridezilla. It didn’t matter to her. It seemed silly that anyone had to stand by a guestbook. It was a filler position to make yet another person feel like part of the wedding.
“Are you wearing a tie under Luke’s shirt?” Anne asked.
“I am.”
Lara laughed. “Why?”
“Because it matches the argyle nipple pasties and matching Jonesing for Lukey panties that I’m wearing.”
The men choked on their food or tongues as the woman laughed.
“Bedroom. Now!” Luke didn’t stop on his way to the bedroom, but his demand silenced the peanut gallery.
Jessica stood, grabbing her plate of food. “My master calls.”
Soft chuckling danced in the kitchen behind her as she traipsed down the hall. Lake and Jones met her at the bedroom door.
“We’ve been evicted,” Lake mumbled.
“Sorry, his back hurts from—”
“Jessica!” Luke’s voice brought a smile to Lake’s sleepy face.
“Yeah, anyway … go get some breakfast.” Jessica smiled back and kissed Jones on the head before closing the bedroom door behind her.
“No food in the bedroom,” Luke called from the bathroom.
“You can’t even see me. How did you know I brought food in here?” Jessica sat on the bed, leaning against the headboard, legs out, plate of waffles on her lap.
“So did you have fun last night? On a scale of one to ten how hungover are you?”
He appeared in the bathroom doorway, toothbrush in his mouth. “My hangover is a five. What part of last night are you referring to?” Luke mumbled with a mouthful of
toothpaste foam.
“Your bachelor party. The stripper.”
A few seconds later he returned to the bedroom. She loved him in jeans, no shirt—all Luke, no Dr. Jones.
“The party was fine. The stripper was … a stripper. Why? Are you jealous?”
“Do you want me to be jealous?”
He lifted her legs and sat on the edge of the bed, resting them on his lap. “Yes. I do. It’s such a rare side to you, and I love it when you get possessive of me.”
“That’s Luke talking. Dr. Jones would never condone jealousy.”
He rubbed her feet. “They’re not cold.”
“I never have cold feet. You know that.”
“You’re going to marry me.”
She grinned over the strawberry she shoved in her mouth. “I am.”
“You’re going to have as many babies as I want to give you.”
Jessica gulped her food down. “You were eavesdropping.” She narrowed her eyes.
“I have good hearing, that’s all.” He smirked.
She rolled her eyes. “You know, I’ll cut you off at the knees if you get too cocky.”
“I want at least four.” He slid his hands up her legs.
She shooed them away. “Three. One just got deducted for your eavesdropping.”
One hundred. She knew he saw it in her eyes, even if her words said otherwise. Jessica would have one hundred of Luke’s babies. Her dreams were coming true. She loved that man and his whole family.
“Luke?”
“Hmm?”
She set her plate on the nightstand then straddled his lap. “Thank you.”
He nodded and it could have been her imagination, but she swore his eyes teared up before he hugged her to him and whispered into her hair, “My God … I love this woman.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Knight
Jillian stared at Knox. His story tore her heart apart. It allowed doubt to creep into her conscience, causing mayhem with the memories of her past. Knox didn’t deserve that story. He didn’t deserve the young innocence of her mother, not when he stole hers so brutally.
“Why?” she whispered.
The trip down memory lane left him equally somber. The hardened man she knew softened before her. Sunny did that. She knew a different Knox McGraw, the ginger-haired boy who loved strawberry pigtails and red Mary Janes.
“Why what?” he whispered.
Jillian recognized something in his voice. Hers had it too. Grief.
“Why am I here?”
“Because Irene wants revenge.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
He inched his gaze up to meet hers, confusion knitted along his brow.
“Why do I exist? Why did Sunny marry Grant?” In the bigger picture, the one she had yet to understand, they no longer felt like her parents. They were nothing more than a tragic mistake that eventually destroyed everything in its path.
“I didn’t realize nothing lasts forever. I took her for granted, and then I lost her.”
“She loved my father. I know she did. I’ve felt that love.” Jillian swallowed back the pain. “I’ve had it twice. I know when it’s real.”
Knox’s eyes glazed over as he stared at the floor between them. He nodded slowly. “She did love him. Sunny would never marry someone she didn’t love.”
“You were mad at her for choosing him. That’s why you became such an asshole—a monster.”
“And the plot thickens,” Irene announced as she threw open the door and pounded her way down the stairs, still wearing combat boots. “My sources tell me your brother is looking for Knox. Seems there’s been a breach. Hmm … let me guess … I’m guessing that breach would be a certain shrink from San Francisco. He took a flight to Chicago and a car to Omaha. The guy’s not exactly James Bond, but I gotta hand it to you … you’ve managed to surround yourself with men who would die for you. It’s quite romantic—tragic, but nonetheless romantic.”
Jillian closed her eyes. She didn’t want Luke riding in on his gallant steed. Irene would pierce his heart with an arrow and let his horse run off a cliff. Jillian wanted Luke to forget about her, marry that completely-put-together girl she knew he deserved, and have the four beautiful children he dreamed of having.
She would die. She’d do it to save Luke, she’d do it for Jackson, and she’d do it to take away the pain of losing AJ.
“Don’t worry, Knox. Since you’re a bit tied up, I’ll have someone reply to Jackson on your behalf.” She cackled like an evil witch. “I think we can have him here in say…” she twisted her lips and rolled her eyes to the ceiling “…forty-eight hours.”
“He won’t come.” Jillian coughed, her throat dry and raw.
Irene held up her phone and snapped a picture of Jillian. “Shoot, I think you blinked. Don’t worry, I don’t actually think I’ll have to use it, but it’s a nice backup to have. He’ll come. I guarantee it.” She wrinkled her nose. “I’d love to stay, but it smells like shit down here. Can I get either one of you anything?”
Knox stared at the bowl of dirty water next to him. Jillian had watched him drink from it like a dog then nearly throw his shoulder out of socket to get back up to a sitting position.
The IV kept her alive, but it did nothing for her mouth and throat.
“Very well then. I’ll let you two get back to story time. Mickey and Sunny. It’s quite touching isn’t it?” She glared at Knox before giving Jillian a bitter smile.
He was right. She had eyes and ears everywhere.
As soon as the door shut, Jillian looked at Knox.
“Keep going. Take it full circle. Make me love my mom again and hate you. That’s the only happy ending.”
*
Sunny
Sunny and Mickey gave each other their virginities. They promised to be each other’s first and last. They loved hard and fought even harder. Mickey felt like Sunny deliberately applied to the colleges with the worst sports teams just to postpone marrying him until after college. The difference between them was she cared about her parents’ opinions. He did not.
“I can’t wait any longer, Sunny. I’ve been offered scholarships to six different colleges and I need to decide. You need to decide.”
She sat up in bed and slipped on his T-shirt as he scooted back against the wall. Sunny’s closet was bigger than his bedroom, with a squeaky twin bed and an old metal trunk. He had three shirts he deemed worthy of having on hangers, which hung from his curtain rod because he didn’t have an actual closet: his basketball jersey, football jersey, and the only dress shirt he owned.
“I’m not deciding on your future, Mickey. That’s not fair of you to even ask.”
“My future? Are you kidding? You are my future. Four years. College is four years of my fucking life. It’s nothing. Football is nothing. You…” he gathered her long auburn hair in his hand, exposing her neck to his lips “…are everything. I love you, Sunny.”
She pulled away. “Love won’t pay rent. It won’t get you a job. It won’t buy you a car that you don’t have to jump start every morning. It won’t get you out of Oakland. You need to play football to pay for college. I need to not piss my parents off so they’ll pay for college. They like you Mickey, but they’ll hate you if you propose to me the minute we cross the stage. Then they’ll disown me for saying yes. We’ll be broke, homeless, and what? In love?”
“What did you say?” He grabbed her arm.
Sunny tried to pull away, a scowl stealing her perfect features.
“I said we’ll be broke and homeless.”
“No, before that.” His strength was no match for hers. He pulled her into his arms, pouty lip and all.
“What?”
“You said your parents would disown you for saying yes.”
“They would.”
“But would you?”
She sighed. “Would I what?”
“Say yes?”
With a single finger he lifted her chin, waiting for her to lo
ok at him. When she did, he knew the answer.
“Yes, Mickey. Of course I’d say yes. My heart will always be tethered to yours. I choose you today. I choose you always.”
He grinned.
She pinched his cheeks together until it hurt. “Don’t you dare smile. Just because I’m hopelessly—stupidly—in love with you, doesn’t mean I’m not still mad as hell that you’re being such a selfish jerk. If four years is ‘nothing,’ then I don’t see the big deal in waiting until we’re done with school, and if you love me the way I love you, it won’t matter if we’re at the same college.”
She broke free of his hold and searched for her clothes. “Would it kill you to pick up your room? Your dad is going to go apeshit if he sees this mess.”
“So let me just be clear on this … you will say yes no matter when I ask you to marry me?”
“Dammit, Knox! Your dad will be home any minute, and I don’t want to be naked when he gets here.”
Knox meant business. Sunny rarely called him by his given name, except for when she was ready to explode at him. She’d give him one warning. Saying it twice meant a week or more of jacking off in the shower—no sex, no kisses, rarely even a phone call.
“Here are your clothes.” He lifted his pillow. They were wadded under it. “See, I’m much more organized than you give me credit for.” His grin just begged to be wiped off his face.
Sunny grabbed her clothes, pulling them on with fire-drill speed. “I’m going home and picking the college with the worst football team ever, you big stubborn ass.”
Knox chuckled. “Good idea. They probably need me the most.”
She rifled through the clothes and school books covering his floor, searching for her shoes. He could hear her mind cursing at him for being so damn messy and herself for falling in love with a walking disaster. The thought made his smile double because she did—Sunny loved him and it was a miracle.
“I can’t live like this, Mickey. I’ll divorce you within a month of marrying you if you don’t pick up your crap.” She tugged on her boots, hopping from one foot to the other. Her nose scrunched as she pulled off her right boot “Mickey! Yuck!”
With frighteningly-accurate precision, she whipped the boot at his head. He ducked and it thunked against the wall.
