The Lover's Surrender (No Exceptions) (12 page)

“I’m
already wondering what would happen if I were to kiss you again. Is that bad?”
he murmured.

Oh yes, please.

I eyed him
for a moment, his smile igniting sparks of heat between my legs. Not just between
them, but traveling into my core, through my belly—warming my soul and
every fiber of my being. My lips twitched, and my insides clenched. Mustering
all my self-control, I cocked my head to the side, unable to stop the cocky
smile spreading across my lips.

“That
depends,” I replied cheekily. “Will you stop being a jerk?”

He let out
a short laugh. “I can’t promise that, girl. Sometimes I swear I was born one.
It comes as part of the package.”

“Seriously?”
I pulled my brows up. “You did it again.”

“What?” He
spread his hands, palms out, feigning confusion.

“You called
me a girl.”

“A girl?”
he echoed in the same tone.

“Yep, that
one.”

He let his
arms fall to the side. Standing back, he removed his black jacket and dropped
it onto the hood. Rolling up his sleeves, he casually leaned against the car.
“What’s wrong with it?”

“It’s
presumptuous, offensive, if not annoying, especially when you say it with that
attitude of yours. When you’re pregnant, you don’t want to be called a ‘girl.’
It just doesn’t fit anymore, not when you’re about to become a mom.”

“Even if
you’re the
one
girl in the whole
world for me, baby, and I intend to keep it that way?” he whispered quietly.

Holy cow.

Big words.

That was
all I could think.

As if
sensing my one moment of weakness, the one moment I felt like my whole being
was split open, he chuckled—a deep, infectious laugh that would get every
woman’s panties wet.

“For a
jerk, you really know how to charm your way in,” I whispered, feeling the blush
on my cheeks.

He laughed
out loud. “For a woman, you really know how to make me want to be a bigger
jerk.”

“Are you
blaming me?” I asked under my breath.

“Well, ever
since meeting you, I’ve been a different man. Doesn’t mean I’ve turned nice,
though.” His eyes twinkled with mischief as his hands cupped my ass. “But
you’re right. Sometimes I’m a jerk. However, the way I see it, it’s a good
thing.”

I scoffed.
“How so?”

“Let me
think,” Jett started, putting on a thoughtful expression. “First, it gives me a
reputation for being a hard-ass. No one tries to walk over someone who doesn’t
take shit from anyone.”

“Earns you
respect.” I nodded.

“That’s
right, baby.”

Which was
kind of true. Jett might be a jerk, but what truly earned him respect was the
way he was: strong, tall, risky, and way too ruthless—at least according
to stories and his reputation.

I opened my
mouth, but he held up his hand to silence me. “When it’s about you, I really
like saying ‘sorry’.”

Jett almost
never said sorry, so his statement made me look up, meeting the devious glint
in his eyes.

“Now that’s
a lie. You don’t like saying sorry,” I said.

“You’re
wrong. I do.” I stared at him, confused when he continued, “See. It gives me
the opportunity to make it up to you. Like, for example, I want to say sorry
for the next thing I’m about do.”

“About?” I
frowned at his insinuation when it hit me. He was about to do something
naughty. My lips curled up. “You can’t say sorry in advance, Jett. It doesn’t
work that way.”

“Well,
trust me, in this one case it does.”
   

“Really?” I
narrowed my eyes. “What are you sorry about, then?”

“I’m going
to say ‘sorry’ three times.” Biting my lip, I looked away, amused as I let him
continue. “Well, let me think. There’s one for kissing you before. And there’s
two for always, and I mean
always
,
making you wet.”

“I’m not
always—” The words died in my throat as I glanced up at him.

Holy cow.

Had he just
taken off his shirt?

I had no
idea whether to be amazed by his ability to remove a piece of clothing that
fast, or by the fact that he was so sexy it literally impaired my breathing.

“That’s
kind of cheating,” I murmured under my breath. “Trying to seduce me like that.”

“Or maybe
I’m just looking for your opinion. You know, fishing for compliments.”

As if he
needed my opinion. Or compliments.

Rows and
rows of hard muscles adorned his body. And his shoulders, oh my god, they were
broad and tanned, inviting me to dig my fingernails into them as we rode the
waves of passion. I sucked in my breath as he closed the little distance
between us, trapping me between his strong arms again.

“Now, what
do you think?” he asked, his voice deep and sexy. “Is my workout any good, or
what?”

“Nice try,”
I said, my gaze fixed on his sculpted chest. Swallowing the lump in my throat,
I tried to push aside the dirty thoughts infiltrating my mind.

The picture
of trailing my fingers down his pronounced abs; him naked in all his glory,
looking too delicious to pass on; him lifting me up until I could wrap my
thighs around him, and him plunging deep into me, filling me the way only he
knew how.

My stomach
knotted deliciously as heat pooled between my legs.

“You should
look into hiring a trainer who monitors your training,” I added.

His mouth
twitched faintly. “And would that happen to be you?”

Damn, my
surprise remark just went flying out the window.

“What? No!”
I smirked as a blush covered my cheeks. “No, of course not. It’s not like I
know how to use thumbells and all that.”

“I think
what you mean are dumbbells.” He laughed at my confused expression. “A thumbell
is a tiny dumbbell to train your thumbs.” He made a flexing motion with his
digit before he shrugged casually.

“That’s a
thing?” I asked.

“Yeah, as
odd as it may sound. I hear they use it to train for increased speed when text
messaging.” He grinned. “But to be honest, I think there are better ways to
train your thumb and much…much better ways to use it.” My pulse sped up at his
insinuation.

I laughed.
“I don’t think so.”

“Well, then
let me show you.”

He towered
over me—close enough for me to touch him, and yet not as close as I wanted
him. His gaze pierced through me as he interlaced his fingers with mine and
then lifted them to his mouth. My body tensed when his lips brushed over my
knuckles, the motion sending an electric shiver through me.

“Look
Brooke,” he whispered. “There’s no cure for confidence. And there’s no cure for
want. It’s perfectly normal for you to want me. And it’s perfectly fine for me
to be a jerk about it, so I would say let’s get used to this weird combo and
admit you’re wet.”

“Oh.” I
rolled my eyes, even though I knew I couldn’t hide how much he turned me on.
“At the speed you’re going, your confidence will soon grow to the moon and
back.”

“Is that
so?” Still watching me, he kissed the tip of my thumb. His lips were soft as he
started to place kisses on my skin—soft at first, then growing
firmer—like the pressure inside me.

Holy cow.

If a few
innocent kisses could do that to me, what would happen once he really turned on
the heat?

I stood
still, afraid that if I moved I would surrender. It didn’t help though.

He leaned
forward to whisper in my ear. “It’s not my intention to make you wet. I don’t
have the kind of power to create a chemical reaction. I don’t even know why
your body responds the way it does, but it’s safe to say that you’re into me.
There are a hell of a lot of things I can do to help you envision what I have
in store for you. But I’ll keep quiet and surprise you.”

“No, forget
the moon,” I managed to whisper. “It’s way too close to Earth. Take the
farthest planet in our solar system. That’s how big your ego is.”

“Ouch.”

In one
swift motion, he heaved me up. Before I could figure out what he was doing, he
carried me over to his red Ferrari and settled me on the hood.

“What are
you doing?” I asked needlessly. Excitement coursed through me when his hand moved
up my legs, pushing my thighs apart.

Deep down I
knew what he wanted, what he intended to do, because somehow he must have
sensed my longing, and now he was going to take care of my needs.

“What does
it look like?” He cocked a sexy eyebrow at me as he lifted one of my legs.
“Whenever I want something, there is no stopping me. I like the feeling of
doing whatever I want with you, because you’re mine. Mine to hold. Mine to
tease. I own you.”

“You don’t
own me,” I protested, feeling the heat spreading across my face, inside my
body—thick and hot, coursing through my blood—urging me to confess
the effect he had on me.

He lifted
my dress slowly.

“Soon.
Maybe not now, but I definitely will. Call it my calling. I know when it’s time
to fill a longing. And right now, I want to fuck you on my car and see how wet
I can get you.” He grinned as he brushed a hair strand out of my face. “Miss
Stewart, ever since the day I met you, I’ve made it my resolution to make you
mine
. I want to devour you, to make you
want me until you feel that no other man will ever satisfy you. I want you mine
with your heart, your soul—with everything you’ve got.”

“Sounds
like a devil’s plan. Where is the contract, so I can sign up?”

He cocked
his head, amusement playing on his lips. “Well, what can I say? You’re right.
I’m a jerk who takes what he wants, which is why I’m keeping these as a prize.”
Before I could blink, my panties were gone. He held them up in the
air—out of my reach. “Just as I thought.”

I blinked
once. Twice.

“You’re
giving them back,” I whispered coarsely when he stuffed the flimsy piece of
fabric inside his pocket.

“Not
happening,” he said smugly. “I’m keeping those as proof.”

“Proof of
what?”

“That it
doesn’t take much to get you turned on.”

“By you,” I
added.

“By me. That’s
right, baby.” He patted his pocket. “Now, next time, there’s no need to play
hard to get.”

I laughed.
“What do you want?”

“You know
what I need. What we both need,” he said as he scanned me up and down. “It goes
both ways. It’s a game as old as mankind. We can do it the hard way, or you can
surrender.”

I ran my
tongue over my lips.

There
wasn’t much sense in lying. Jett was already holding the proof in his pocket.
Judging by my desire, I was ready to have him right there and then.

It didn’t
help that I could smell his manly scent.

Or that he
seemed available to the idea.

“All right.
You can keep them but under one condition,” I said.

His
eyebrows rose ever so slightly. “I’m listening.”

I took a
deep breath. “You’ll give me something in return.”

He seemed
to consider his options for a moment, and then he nodded. “That sounds like a
fair deal.” He stepped back and unbuttoned his jeans slowly. “You’re lucky I’m
in a generous mood.”

Oh boy!

I stared at
him in surprise. “That’s the first time I didn’t have to ask twice, you know?”

“What can I
say? I’m full of surprises.” He flashed me another wicked grin, enjoying every
moment of his glorious victory.

I peered
down at his magnificent erection. He was hard and beautiful, much like a
scepter in a king’s hand, and Jett was like a king to me—ruling over my
heart and my body. I tried to form a coherent sentence, but all I could think
of was him inside me.

“Are you
trying to impress me?” I asked nervously. “Because if you are, you’re kind of
succeeding.“

“Kind of?
No, baby, I wouldn’t say I’m trying to impress you. I’d say I’m dying to fuck
you.”

Judging by
the naughty glint in his eyes and the serious tone in his voice, I should have
seen it coming, but it was still a surprise.

His finger
curled around the fabric of my top, and he pulled it over my head. I shivered
as the cold air hit my naked skin. Slowly, he slid a finger under the strap of
my bra and pushed it down my arms, exposing my breasts. With a soft moan, he
lowered his mouth and sucked on my nipple, his tongue circling and flicking in
equal measures.

My body
responded instantly with a fire, welcoming his touch, welcoming
him—wanting so much of him that I felt like exploding.

I shifted,
suppressing a shudder, when his other hand started to move down my waist and
settled between my legs, resting against my wetness.