Page 133 of Jig's Last Dance

“Jig,” I cry, bucking desperately.

“Yes,” he growls, his eyes blazing. “You’re so fucking tight.”

His naughty words make me tingle, and I arch my hips, rubbing against him rapidly. I’m so close, and I explode when he groans, “Come on my dick, sunshine.”

Waves crash over me, and I fight to keep my eyes open as I sail into oblivion.

Jig grunts, dropping over me and thrusting wildly, his hips pumping against my legs.

Dazed, I stare into his eyes once more, my heart clenching when he buries his face in my neck and blows.

“Fuck,” he rasps.

The sweet shudder of his shoulders against mine makes me smile before it fades, and I close my eyes.

Although I’ll cherish this moment forever, the truth about his sister stings my tongue, and I bite back the deluge as he lays against me and catches his breath.

My fingers curl to keep from touching his hair, and I stiffen, tears building in my eyes. He must sense my discomfort because he leans back with furrowed brows.

Avoiding his gaze, I pull away, grabbing my jeans and pulling them up my thighs clumsily. Beside me, Jig does the same, but I don’t look. I can’t.

Instead, I turn to the rear-view mirror and fix my makeup, although I don’t fucking care about my face. My heart thrums in my chest, and it’s all I can do to will back the tears.

Jig is like a shining star. I want to bask in his glow and make wishes, but that star is out of my reach, and I’ll never get more than a pretty view.

“Sunshine?” He leans into my back and rests his chin on my shoulder.

Meeting his gaze in the mirror, I say quietly, “Why are you here?”

His brows drop. He frowns as he wraps his arm around my waist. “Because this is where I want to be.”

“It doesn’t work that way,” I say with a wobbly smile.

“Fuck that,” he says fiercely, squeezing me tighter.

“Jig, your sister—”

“I don’t care. I don’t care about any of that. You make me feel. Here,” he presses his hand against my heart, and I sigh.

Who knew he could be romantic? Add it to the list of things I’ll regret when I’m gone.

I search his gaze, my eyes filling with tears, and he spins me around and wraps me up. Surrounded by his warmth, I feel the first sob hiccup from my mouth before it’s a deluge.

Jig rubs my back and rocks me through my freak out, and when I’m done, I lean back and give him a watery smile.

“Sorry,” I whisper, and his eyes soften.

“I’m sorry too, sunshine.”

I want so badly to forget everything and go when he kisses me gently and says, “Let’s get out of here.”

But I know I can’t have this.

“Jig—”

“No.” He grabs my hair, bending me back, and with his lips pressed to mine, he says, “I won’t let you go. If that means going up against my father, fine. But this, this is worth it.”

“Your father?”

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