Page 80 of Her Filthy Mistake

One Year Later

Zoe

Watching Jace perform from the suite at a Las Vegas casino is the most amazing thing I’ve ever witnessed. His stage presence. His confidence. Knowing that I get to go home tonight to that man. I sigh. I wouldn’t trade my life for anything.

Last year, he was signed by Ethan and put out his first solo album to rave reviews. He was top of the charts with the second single released on both the pop and country charts. And the media had a feeding frenzy that he was married to his eight-year younger step-niece, who was also his manager.

We didn’t play into it, but we also didn’t back down from the attention. And my mom and stepdad’s blessing probably helped our cause a ton. Not to mention my father’s arrest and imprisonment in a Saint Lucian jail gained us some notoriety as well. It’s only for six months, but it was worth every phone call we’d put in to ensure he was brought to justice.

Hey, my dad taught me attention is attention. And why not use him to get a leg up when he did everything in his power to stomp Jace down?

I cross my arms over my chest and watch as he breaks into his final song, the first song he wrote about us at the resort. I’d rather listen backstage and swoon over the words but instead, I nod in acknowledgement of the cheers from the crowd.

When the camera swings away from me and back onto Jace, he winks, and my knees buckle. Damn that man. I’m working here. I’m supposed to be a tough businesswoman.

In the break between the verse and the chorus, he holds the microphone close to his lips. “I love you, darlin’.” And continues on without missing a beat. I close my eyes, and honest to God swoon. The man is too much of everything.

“He’s so good at that.” Everleigh slides up to me and smiles. “The charm the man exudes. It’s hard to believe a year ago, that he was happy to never sing again and to run security for me for the rest of his life.”

“And I was happy being my father’s lacky.”

“Okay.” Everliegh laughs. “Neither one of you was happy.” She pats my back. “By the way, you look absolutely stunning tonight.”

“Thank you.” Heat covers my cheeks. I rarely dress up, typically wearing slacks and a nice top to his concerts. But tonight, I’m wearing a red formfitting dress with a slit up to my midthigh. I don’t think I’ve worn a dress this revealing since I was 18 and trying to get Jace’s attention.

Once the show is over, I walk backstage and wait in Jace’s dressing room. The room isn’t big, but we’ll be alone. I run a finger over the one of the white calla lilies which accent the vibrant purple ones in the bouquet. The flowers remind me of our time in Saint Lucia, bringing back beautiful memories of sand, tranquil blue-green water, and Jace. Someday soon, we’ll need to return.

This year is different. He’s still only performing for twelve weeks a year and refused to increase that pace, but the venues are drastically different in size. He’s gone from five thousand and under venues to 10k to 20k stadiums. Next year, we’ve already signed on for a Vegas residency at this casino with two shows a day for twelve weeks in the summer.

The door swings open as he barges into the room and lifts me off the ground, kicking the door shut with his booted foot. “Lord, baby, this dress is killing me. I’ve wanted to rip it off you since the first second I saw you in it.”

“Hmm….” I wrap my arms around his neck. “That’s convenient because I’ve wanted you to do the exact same thing since I put it on.” I whisper in his ear, “I didn’t even wear panties tonight. Everyone would’ve seen my underwear line, and we all know–”

He drops me to my feet, spins me to face the wall, and hauls the fabric up my legs. “Hands on the wall, darlin’.”

“Yes, Sir.” I giggle as he drops to his knees. The floor-to-ceiling mirror provides me with the perfect view of everything. My eyes glow with desire as his bottom lip gets sucked between his teeth. The way he looks at me makes my heart flip over in my chest.

The man builds up a ferocious appetite when he’s on stage. It doesn’t help that I refuse to see him alone on performance days because otherwise, his voice is too tight from tongue-lashing me.

“God, I love this ass.” He boosts the dress around my waist, exposing my flesh to the bright lights of the changing room. His fingers spread my ass as he puts me on full display. “Such a good girl. All wet and slick for me.” He runs the tip of his finger between my folds, causing me to whimper with desire. “Swollen and dripping. Just the way I love you.”

Before I can speak, he shoves my feet apart and devours my pussy. The sound of his eager feasting combines with my whimpers of approval. I’ll never be able to get enough of this man. Morning. Noon. Or night. I’m ready.

I thought it would slow down. But instead, it’s gotten more intense. Every day, he ups his game, and I’m putty in his hands. He reaches around me and pinches my clit while still lapping and lunging into my sex. My thighs shake as I watch every move he makes. With each dip into my core, I moan and shiver uncontrollably. I want more. I need more.

To ease the tension building inside of me, I rotate my hips, seeking more friction. He chuckles against my swollen lips, and the vibration makes my eyes roll back into my head. I’m so close.

Don’t come. Enjoy it. Don’t stop. My fingertips dig into the mirror, sliding along the solid glass.

He twirls his tongue around my center, dives inside a fraction of an inch, and tugs my clit. No. Don’t. Ride it. More. He pulls my ass backward and lunges his tongue deep inside of me.

“Fuck.” Oh, God. I gasp as the orgasm overpowers my will to enjoy and not crash. Lights flash behind my eyes, and I scissor my thighs on both sides of his face, forcing him to stay between my legs and lash at my quivering hole. He doesn’t stop until I’m limp and barely able to stand.

When he straightens, he spins me around and claims my mouth with the same intensity. I greedily meet his kiss, tasting my desire for him, which only serves to ramp up my need for him again. If someone would’ve told me I’d get turned on by the taste of my own cum, I’d have thought they were crazy. But I love it almost as much as he does.

He cups my face and pulls back. The love in his eyes makes my heart skip a beat. “This pussy is going to kill me some day.”

“Lord….” I laugh at his dramatics. “I hope not. I don’t want to have to explain to the police why I washed your face before calling for help.”

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