Page 101 of Jett

"But we don't have enough--oh!"

He sets me down on the dark quartz counter next to the sink.

A vein throbs in the center of his brow.

"I need to fuck you," he says, his dark eyes meeting mine. Is he asking for permission? Because I have no objection to anything, but ... Brooke.

But his attention is riveted on my body, and he tweaks my pebbled nipple, making me sigh.

"Jett, we don't have--"

I stop when he pushes my feet up, to lie flat on the counter.

"Jett ..." I'm so exposed and open for him right now, in a way I wasn't in bed, under the light of the lamp. Blood rushes south, below my belly. "I want to do so much with you," he murmurs, a low satisfied sound falling from his lips as his fingers slide over my silky folds.

Then he kisses me, his cock pressing against me, teasing and tempting. I sigh, sucking his tongue, drowning in pleasure. When he slides inside me, guttural sounds come from deep in my throat. This feels so good, I wish we could be like this forever.

He pulls back and looks at where we've joined, slowly moving in and out, watching, mesmerized. I watch too, holding my breath, as he fucks me slowly.

"Oh, God." I swallow, feeling light headed. He fills me completely then holds, teasing my clit mercilessly, until I shudder and come, riding out the wave as I fall apart under his gaze.

As I start to slump against him, he lifts me up in his arms and places me against the wall, where he sinks into me, right to the hilt, and drives into me relentlessly.

Chapter 35

JETT

I cancel all my meetings for the day, including the call scheduled with my father. I shoot him an email, letting him know I’m taking uninterrupted time with Brooke and that he shouldn’t contact me unless he’s dying.

He calls instantly, of course. I let it go to voicemail, fully aware that he’s seething, but I don’t give a damn. Though I’ll probably pay for it later.

Last night was something else. Cari and I—what we shared—it’s beyond anything I’ve felt before. I can’t shake the feeling that she’sdifferent.

I’ve always thought this, so it shouldn’t come as a surprise.

Something’s been bothering me lately. Are all my relationships transactional? I think back to Dina and the easy, detached setup we had. Everything calculated, like it was part of a contract we’d both signed.

Alicia was something more. She was independent, smart, successful. An attorney. She more than held her own. She could survive in the tempest of the Knight empire.

But the way she was around Brooke? That disqualified her.

And Cari? She’s remarkable in every way. Just as I suspected she would be.

We spend the day at the beach, then grab lunch later in Tucker’s Town, the exclusive enclave sprinkled with luxurious estates, pristine beaches, and world-class golf courses. But the reason I wanted to come here is its breathtaking views of turquoise waters and the air of secluded elegance, both of which I know Cari appreciates.

The hours feel like they’re suspended in a kind of quiet bliss. Brooke’s giggles mingle with the breeze as we soak in the day. Cari captures moments on her phone—snapshots of Brooke covered in sand, of us splashing in the waves, of the unguarded smiles I can’t seem to keep off my face.

That night, Cari slips out of her room and into mine again. We give in to the pull between us, as natural as the tide.

The next morning, we’re out on the yacht, heading to another island. Cari steps out in the itsy bitsy bikini I saw her in that first day, and my mind goes blank. I lose track of whatever I’d planned to say, and for a second, it’s just her standing there, watching me with a big grin on her face. Damn if I don’t want her right now.

“Daddy, are we going to the Blue Lagoon today?”

I stare at Brooke for a few hazy seconds. “Uh … yes, sure, sweet pea.” I don’t dare look at Cari again, but I can’t wait to get her back in my room tonight.

Luckily for me and my sanity, she puts on a sheer cover-up while we sail out to the Blue Lagoon.

My brothers and I learned to captain yachts and have all of the licenses and qualifications. Most of the women I’ve taken aboard have been impressed, but Cari has barely blinked. These things don't matter to her. Sewing up a tattered old elephant does.

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