Page 159 of Wicked Sins

He grabs my hips, keeping me in place. “Too late for that, darling. Now tell me what was so important you had to get my dick hard?”

I giggle at his serious expression, knowing he’s just being grumpy for the sake of it. I don’t mind. I love it, in fact. Sex is off the charts on any regular day, but when I make him angry…

He bucks into me, and I squirm around in delight as a delicious ache ignites my core.

But all that can wait.

“Guess what I found?” My toes curl against the silky sheets as I wait for Jo to answer.

That sullen expression slides off his face. His eyes widen as his fingertips sink into my flesh. “We got mail?” He pushes up to his elbows, slapping the sides of my thighs when all I do is nod furiously at him. “And?”

I hold up the envelope from Cornell University. Jo’s eyes dart to it, then back to me. “Open it!”

The envelope trembles. “I’m too scared.”

“Scared for what?” Jo snatches it from me. “You graduated with full honors. They’d be fucking idiots not to have you.”

“But what if—?”

Jo pauses in the act of tearing open the envelope, and then puts it down on the bed beside us. Unsurprisingly, it’s easy to keep my eyes on him and not on the envelope.

Yes, getting into Cornell means the world to me…but a life without Jo isn’t a life worth living. I knew that back then, and that knowledge has only grown stronger.

“That there—” he points at the envelope “—that’s an acceptance letter.”

I draw my lip into my mouth, watching him with wide eyes. He sits up in a rush, hugging me so hard I squeak. But I’m gripping him too, clinging to him like he’s my life raft.

I guess, in a way, he is. If it wasn’t for him…

“In fact, we’re gonna celebrate before we even open it,” he says, leaning back from me. But as soon as he catches sight of my face, the pride on his face melts away. “Hey…what’s wrong?”

I sniff, shaking my head and then nuzzling into the side of his neck, so he won’t see me crying. “I’m so happy,” I mumble.

“Me too,” he says. He strokes the back of my neck, shifting my hair aside so he can rain tiny kisses on my skin. “But I want to make you even happier.”

I giggle through another sniff when he tickles the side of my neck with his stubble. It’s been weeks since I took my last exam, and we’ve been laying low in the beach house the entire time. Honestly, there’s no reason for us to leave this place. We’ve got cable, satellite Internet, a pantry that could see us through the apocalypse, and a very reluctant babysitter who stops by once a week with groceries and silent reprimands written all over his aging face.

Quinten Dench likes to make out as if he gives a shit, but he still cashes our checks every week, so…

Jo leans to the side, grinning at me as he rummages around in my nightstand.

“No, not yet!” I slap at his hand. “Open it, Jo. I want to know—”

Jo pulls out a pink dildo and lays it on the sheets. Then he slides his hands under my shirt and lifts it over my head.

“I told you what it says.” He leans forward and presses his lips to my throat. He works his way down between my breasts, then from one nipple to the next, drawing each tight bud into his mouth. “Not only have they accepted you, they’ve given you a full scholarship too.”

He teases my nipple with his teeth, drawing a low moan from me.

In a flash, Jo scoops me up and has me on my back. I struggle, giggling, and squealing as he tickles me out of my dread. I’m panting by the time he listens to my pleas.

There’s something under me, and I realize it’s the envelope from Cornell.

“Jo!” I twist, trying to reach under me, but he pins me easily with his weight. He’s been working out a lot in the beach house’s built-in gym. His therapist suggested he use exercise to deal with his residual energy, using it for positive things instead of letting it build up. He’s almost as well-muscled as his father used to—

I squeeze my eyes shut, willing that horrid thought from my mind.

I’ve been seeing a therapist too.

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