Page 51 of Jolene's Justice

With his hands on her shoulders, he turned her to face him. “Jolie? What is it? What’s the matter?”

She laughed, and he blinked at her in surprise. She grabbed a hand towel off the counter and wiped her tears away. “Nothing’s wrong. I was just chopping onions. My eyes always water when I cut onions.”

Her explanation caused the vise on his throat to spin open, and he breathed a sigh of relief. “I’ve heard it helps if you put a piece of bread in your mouth.”

Her face scrunched up in disgust, and he couldn’t help but laugh. “Soggy bread.” She shivered dramatically, making it clear she didn’t like that idea.

“You don’t like soggy bread?”

“Hell no.”

“But aren’t you the one who brings the stuffing for our Thanksgiving feasts? And what about the tiramisu on your dessert menu?”

“Yeah, I can make the stuff, just not eat it.”

“A chef who doesn’t like her own creations,” he teased.

She pushed his shoulder with a huff. “Oh, shut up.”

He kissed her and felt the weight of the world lift off his shoulders, buoyed by their lighthearted connection. His dick went from zero to sixty with that simple kiss. “Can you take a break? I need to talk to you in private.”

Her brow furrowed in concern. “Sure. Give me a minute.” She got one of the other helpers to finish chopping the onions, then took his hand and led him out of the kitchen.

He found himself in a darkened hallway lined with lockers. The typical high school flyers covered the walls. It must have been close to election time, since there were numerous student council campaign signs plastered everywhere. He wondered if the kids would get the opportunity to vote after all this.

Jolene led him to a classroom door at the end of the hall. It surprised him it wasn’t locked when she easily opened it. But his concern for the security of the school flew out of his mind as soon as the door closed behind them and they were alone.

He cupped her face and drew her mouth to his, thrusting his tongue past the barrier of her lips. He needed this. Needed her. Now that he’d had her, he couldn’t get enough.

Backing her up against the wall, he plastered his body to hers, losing himself in the feel of her softness against his hard. Her moan of pleasure had his cock throbbing with the need for relief.

Her hands worked their way under his shirt, splaying across his back. She undulated against him, drawing her own pleasure from their embrace. He felt her heat as she rocked against him, his cock nestled snugly in the V of her legs.

Conveniently, she was wearing a button-down shirt. He released a few buttons until her lace-covered breasts were free. Then he yanked the cups of her bra down and kissed his way to her breast. He took the rose-tipped nipple into his mouth, lashing the hard point with his tongue. She grasped his head, holding her to him as he suckled. With a near painful grip on his hair, she arched against his mouth. He greedily took what she was offering, moving to the other one to give it equal attention.

While he feasted on her breasts, he slid his hand under the waistband of her pants, delving deep until he felt her warm, wet heat on his fingers. Sliding between her folds, he pushed a digit inside her. She gasped against his ear and widened her stance.

Fuck, he needed her.

Being around her was like being wrapped in a warm blanket of scents, sounds, and textures. The orange aroma that was as familiar to him now as his own but at the moment had underlying tones of onion. The way it felt to touch her, to feel her arch against him, to hear her wanton gasps in his ear—it was everything.

“Finch,” she cried when he clasped her nipple between his teeth and bit down, then soothed the pinch by rolling it with his tongue. He kindled her passion until his own surged, her sounds of capitulation sending him over the edge of control.

He finished unbuttoning her shirt and pushed it off. It fluttered to the floor at their feet. Then he worked her pants open and shoved them and her panties down to her knees. Spinning her around, he thrust his hips against her, trapping her between him and the wall. She cried out and braced her hands against the wall. Her back arched beautifully as she pushed back against him. He ran a hand down her spine, reveling in the feel of her smooth skin.

Freeing himself from the confinement of his cargo shorts, he grasped her hips, adjusted her angle, then plunged inside in one agonizingly deep thrust. The pleasure was absolute and explosive. They both cried out, the sound echoing through the empty room. He clamped his hand over her mouth and bit into her shoulder to muffle any sounds that might attract unwanted attention.

He pounded into her with powerful thrusts. His hips moved with a fierce intensity, driving him deeper with a firm, unyielding force. Each surge was harder than the last, driving her wild with pleasure. He pushed deeper and harder. A raw act of possession.

Her eager response matched his. She arched her back and took his reckless fury. Her wet heat stirring him to go harder, faster. He grasped her breast with his free hand, rolling her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. He felt her suck in a breath against the hand covering her mouth.

He was close and needed her there before he lost himself. As he explored her body, his hand slid down to cup her mound, his fingers brushing against his own arousal. When he flicked at her clit, she went wild. She shattered into a million pieces in his embrace, her body pulsing with pleasure as she brought him to the brink of ecstasy with her.

He sucked on the delicate skin of her neck, marking her as he emptied himself inside her. With a final pulse, he let go of her mouth and slammed his hand against the wall, his body shaking with pleasure. With one hand still pressed against the wall, he slowly withdrew from her, his breathing as ragged as hers.

“Wow,” she murmured.

His head dropped to her shoulder as he tried to catch his breath. His hand was still cupping her mound, and he could feel his come dripping from her core. It was erotic as fuck. “Yeah. Wow,” he breathed into her neck.

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