Page 37 of Jilted
Reluctantly, Amy got off his lap and out of bed. She searched for her cell phone and turned it on, using the screen as a flashlight to help find her clothes.
Brett did the same, and as soon as he was dressed, he went downstairs to find and light some candles. When she was sure he was out of sight, she did a little happy dance and squealed with excitement.
She and Brett were together! For a little while, anyway. It was a dream come true. Finding a clean pair of black silk panties and a matching silk tank top, she put them on and went downstairs to help Brett.
He’d found an entire cabinet full of candles and had lit half of them by the time she made it to the kitchen where he had the unlit ones spread across the table. The living room and part of the kitchen was aglow in candlelight. It would be romantic if it wasn’t necessary.
Brett stopped with the lighter halfway to the wick of the candle he was holding. “What’re you wearing?”
Amy smiled. “What?” she asked innocently. “There’s no power, the air doesn’t work, and it’s hot in here.”
He devoured her with his eyes for a moment before finally speaking again. “You’re wearing fuck me clothes,” he said as he turned his attention back to lighting the candles.
“So what if I am? What’re you going to do about it?” She crossed her arms over her chest.
“I’m going to fuck you.” He lit another candle. “Repeatedly.”
Amy’s breath caught in her throat. His words dripped with promise, and the way he said that, so calm and self-assured, had her squeezing her thighs together to stop the throbbing in her clit. She swallowed hard when Brett put the lighter down and came toward her.
He trailed his hand over her ass cheek and down her thigh, giving it a firm squeeze. “You’re lucky I don’t rip this off you, bend you over this table, and take you right now.” His voice was deeply sexual, husky.
Her heart took off like a runaway freight train, pounding in her chest so hard she thought she would break a rib. “That could be fun,” she said.
“Better yet,” Brett lifted her up, set her on the counter, and stood between her legs, “maybe I’ll just tease you until you beg for my cock.” He pressed his thumb to her panties and circled her clit.
Amy sucked in a breath and opened her legs a little wider, loving the way he touched her, stroking her desire to an out-of-control level. Then again, simply being around him had that effect on her. He didn’t have to tease her to get her to beg. She was willing to do that at any given time.
She groaned when Brett stopped touching her. “Two can play this game, y’know?”
He put his hands on the counter on either side of her legs, put his face inches from hers, and said, “Let the games begin.”
Brett’s ringing cell phone prevented Amy from responding. He pulled it from his back pocket, looked at the screen, smiled, and then answered. “Hello?”
“Are you dead in a ditch somewhere or did you forget how to use that fancy cell phone of yours?”
Brett’s mom. From the tone and level of her voice, Amy knew Ginny wasn’t happy with Brett. Amy smiled. Mrs. Hudson was funny when she got angry with Brett. She was also feisty as hell.
“No, Mom, I’m fine.” He put the call on speaker and held the phone away from his ear. “There’s no need to yell.”
“Brett Matthew Hudson! Do not tell your mother not to yell when you promised to call and haven’t. One minute you’re in the basement of the church and the next you’re on a plane flying across the country with no warning at all. And before you say anything, leaving a message on our answering machine is not acceptable. What the heck is wrong with you? Why on earth would you go on your honeymoon alone? You should be with people who care about you, who can help you through this.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, fighting to suppress a smile.
Amy eyed him curiously. What was he up to?
“I should’ve let you know that I was leaving, and I should’ve called to let you know I was okay,” he said.
Amy leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. He wasn’t a momma’s boy, but he did love and respect his mother – a quality Amy always admired and loved.
“Damn right you should have.” Ginny sighed. “So, how are you? Are you doing okay? You’re eating and taking care of yourself right?”
“Yes, Mom.” Brett rolled his eyes.
Amy smacked him on the chest and mouthed the words, “Be nice.”
“I’m fine, I promise. I’m eating and relaxing and taking care of myself,” he said.
“Are you sleeping?” Ginny pressed.
