Page 21 of The Last Love Story (Baker Girls #3)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

JADE

I can’t stop thinking about Justin.

I am not okay.

By the way, wifey, if you ever need any help getting off, feel free to ask your husband.

I can’t believe he actually said those words. Right to my face. With that smolder thing he does with his eyes.

“Your blood pressure is a little elevated today. Are you feeling okay?”

My eyes dart to the nurse. Whoops. Probably shouldn’t be getting all hot and bothered while she’s taking my blood pressure.

“Is it high?”

“Higher than your normal, but still in the optimal range.”

I let out a breath, then put on a smile. “I’m a little stressed. Our air conditioner broke yesterday, and I’m hoping the repair person can get it fixed today. I don’t do well with heat. ”

She waves a hand. “Say no more. That would stress me out too.”

Crisis averted.

She goes through a bunch of questions and some preparation information with me, and even though I want to ask a thousand questions about the recovery process, those are better saved for my doctor.

“Now, you obviously won’t be able to drive after you have the procedure done. Will you have someone with you who can drive you? Or someone who can pick you up?”

“My husband will be here.”

She frowns and looks back at the screen. “We have you listed as unmarried here.”

“Oh, uh, it’s new. Last weekend. We were in Las Vegas and had a whirlwind wedding.”

The nurse beams at me. “Good for you. Life’s too short not to live a little.”

I chuckle at that. If only she knew how much I was living right now.

Self-publishing was the greatest risk I ever took until now.

But the scarier thing is that marrying Justin never felt like a risk.

I’m not sure if that’s a red flag or a green one, but so far, this man has been throwing up all the green flags, and I’m ready to hit the gas and go .

We haven’t even kissed since our wedding—though we came close yesterday—but I want more. Not only more kissing. More of him. And physically… I want everything.

A small voice in the back of my mind whispers the words I’m afraid to admit.

I want everything else with him too.

The relief I felt at walking into an air-conditioned apartment this afternoon was instantaneous. Even though Justin spent the day insisting everything was going fine, I was still worried.

I did my best to not be too annoying with my need for updates.

Justin insisted I take my time today and get every little thing done, stop for lunch, grab a coffee, and pick out a good book.

Bewitched Books and Coffee is one of my favorite places on earth. The staff are incredible, they have a great selection of indie authors, they’re incredibly supportive of local authors and artists, and they make the best coffee.

I wandered there for quite a while sipping on a latte.

After I got home and took a shower, Justin had dinner waiting.

He never stops. And even though it’s a little strange and I’m afraid to get too used to it… I love it. I’m so used to doing everything alone. It’s nice not to have to… even if it’s something I have to get used to.

After multiple texts this morning asking how things were going, he told me to stop.

Let your husband handle it.

My body flushes at the thought of all the things I’d like him to handle.

The way I’d like him to handle me.

His fingers biting into my hips as he holds me while I ride him.

And now I’m overheated.

Good thing I have a working air conditioner to cool things down.

I stand up and round the couch, heading for the hallway.

“Where are you going?” Justin asks.

“Just turning the AC down.”

“I can do it.”

He scrambles to his feet and jogs toward me, only to come to a stop next to me as I stare at the thermostat .

A different thermostat.

It’s similar to my old one, which must be why I didn’t notice it when I walked by earlier, but this is new.

“Why is it different?”

The old one wasn’t broken. The only reason I’d need a new one is if they upgraded the system.

My eyes flit to Justin, then I spin on my heel and hurry out the door as Justin calls after me. When I get to the edge of the porch, I look down and see a brand-new air-conditioning unit.

What the hell?

I turn around and almost collide with Justin.

“What did you do?”

“Jade.”

“What did you do?”

“Let’s talk inside.”

“Great plan.”

I storm ahead, pissed off.

Because what the hell? They said they were going to repair the damn thing, not put in a whole new unit.

Except they never said that. Because I didn’t talk to them.

I’m standing at the edge of the hallway, emotions going through me rapid fire. As much as I can appreciate this, it’s a lot.

Everything he’s done for me has been a whole freaking lot.

Justin appears in front of me, an easy smile on his face, and he’s so damn gorgeous I can’t think straight for a second.

So I lean into my frustration instead and pin him with my fiercest glare. “Is that a new air conditioner?”

He rubs his jaw. “You know, I wasn’t watching them the whole time. I’ll have to go look.”

I throw my hands up. “Justin!”

The feral grin that spreads over his face sends a spark of heat through my core.

But no. No . Not right now.

“I love when you say my name like that.”

“Like I’m going to cause you bodily harm? ”

He shrugs. “I know you won’t. And that tone is a turn-on.”

I take a slow, controlled inhale, then let it all out.

“What did you do?”

He gestures to himself. “I didn’t do anything. The nice men from the HVAC company put in a shiny new air conditioner.”

Hands on my hips, I move toward him. “And who paid for it?”

“Jade—”

“No. Why did you do that? It was fixable. Why didn’t you let them fix it?”

“Because you should have a working air conditioner.”

“And I would have!”

He throws an arm out. “For how long? A few weeks until it breaks again?”

“Then I’d have gotten it fixed again. You can’t just come in here, throwing your money around. You’re already doing too much for me as it is.”

Frustrated, I walk past him down the hall to my bedroom. I hate feeling like I owe him. Him doing this makes it feel even more contractual—even though I still don’t understand what he’s getting out of it.

“Who says it was only for you? I live here too,” he says from behind me.

Those words make my burning anger turn ice cold.

I hadn’t even considered that he did this for him. Am I that self-centered? Glancing at my bed, my heart aches.

Why would he want to be forced to share a bed with me? Despite all the jokes?—

“Jade.”

He spins me to face him, as I try to hide the hurt that’s overpowering me. Intensity grows in those blue eyes as he stares at me.

Then his eyes go over my shoulder to the bed, and his face falls a little.

“That’s not what I meant. I only said I did it for me because I’ll benefit too.

No one likes being overheated, and on the second floor, it would be that way for most of the day.

But if it was just me, I’d figure it out.

I wouldn’t care that much. You’re upset I did this, so I was trying to downplay it, but I can’t.

I did this because you deserve to be comfortable in your home and to have less to worry about over the next few months while you’re recovering from surgery.

I want to give you that peace of mind. I want to take care of you.

” His voice drops to a hoarse whisper, and his fingers brush my temple as he sweeps some hair behind my ear. “Let me take care of you.”

My eyes are locked on his, my hurt and anger both gone. All that’s left is warmth. Desire. Desperation for him.

“Then take care of me,” I breathe.

He searches my face, lifting my chin.

“What do you mean?” he croaks.

“You told me to ask my husband if I need any help. Well, I need some help. And I want you to take care of all my needs .”

He crashes into me, arms wrapping around me as his mouth slants over mine possessively.

I’ve written a lot of book boyfriends, but I’ve never had someone kiss me like they kiss their women. Sometimes I wondered if it was mostly fiction. But now, Justin is kissing me so… voraciously. Like it would physically hurt him to hold back.

I didn’t think I’d be the girl who would want to be owned, but now I know that feeling isn’t toxic. It’s not about control. It’s about giving in to each other, getting lost in each other, and knowing how deeply wanted I am. It’s vibrant, wild passion.

He walks me backward toward the bed, and when the backs of my legs hit the mattress, he stops and pulls away, breathing heavily as he looks down at me.

“You take my breath away, darlin’.”

I flush at his words. I’m not even naked yet.

Though I don’t like the ugly words that dance through my mind, I can’t completely tune them out.

What if he doesn’t like how I look naked?

“What are you worrying about?”

“It’s been a while since I’ve been naked with someone. ”

His eyes light up. “Then I feel even luckier. Like all this”—he drags his finger across my collarbone—“has been saved only for me.”

I let out a shaky breath. “Just… be gentle…”

He stares at me for a second as what I’m saying clicks. I’m not talking about sex, but how he looks at me. What he says.

“Darlin’, if you think there’s an inch of your body I won’t adore, you’re crazy.”

Without giving me another chance to think, he pulls my shirt over my head and drops it to the ground.

He bites his lip as he takes me in. “God, baby. You’re killing me. So fucking gorgeous.”

All the negative thoughts fall away, and I imagine my body naked beneath his. In that image, all I find is beauty. How beautiful my body splayed out for him would be.

He reaches for the button of my shorts, but I stop him with a hand to his chest. “Don’t I get to see the abs?”

He laughs and whips his shirt off, wiggling his pecs as he does.

He shudders when I run my hands down his chest, then he’s leaning in, lips pressed into the skin of my neck as his fingers curl in my hair.

A rough, agonized moan slips out of him, and I gasp in response.

I’ve never felt more needed.

He reaches for my shorts again, and this time, I don’t stop him.

“I can’t wait to feel every perfect inch of you. I… you’re so beautiful it’s hard to breathe. You are mine, and I am shamelessly obsessed with you. I can’t wait to see what your sinful body can do. I can’t wait to touch every delicious curve, to taste, tease, and torture you.”

“I want all of that,” I breathe, overwhelmed by his words. Him calling me his. How tortured his voice was. I never want to stop feeling like the object of his desire .

“Get on the bed,” he orders, slipping out of his shorts. “Right in the center. I want you splayed out and waiting for me.”

My core throbs at his words. I need him to touch me. Give me something .

He stands at the end of the bed, his dick at full mast in his boxers. His eyes roam over me, and he licks his lips hungrily.

I’ll do anything to be his next meal.

He climbs over the top of me, then easily removes my bra, groaning in delight at the sight of my breasts.

He firmly grabs one, bringing his mouth to it, sucking and biting at my nipple.

I arch into him, dragging my fingers down his back.

He roughly switches to my other breast before sitting back on his heels.

His smile turns feral as his eyes trail down my body, finding the lacy hipster underwear that can’t hide how turned on I am.

“Look at you,” he rumbles, dragging his finger over the wet fabric. “So needy.” His eyes find mine again. “Tell me what you want.”

My mind goes blank. I don’t think anyone has ever asked me that before. I must’ve really dated—and even hooked up with—some duds.

“I don’t—uh—I’m a little?—”

“What’s the matter, my sweet little romance author? I’ve read the filthy, filthy words you’ve written. Can’t you say them to me?”

“I don’t have much real-world experience. I’ve had hook ups and dated here and there, but never anyone who’s explicitly asked what I’ve wanted. We’ve always just done things. I voiced what I liked in the moment, but that’s all. And it’s always been very vanilla.”

“Mm. Looks like I’ve got something to add to the contract.”

Confusion ripples through me. “What?”

“Husband will help wife explore and unlock all her sexual desires. As for tonight… you can tell me what you want or let me take the lead until you find yo ur voice.”

I’ll do anything to be his next meal.

A flash of embarrassment hits as I think about saying the words aloud. Writing them in a fictional manner is entirely different.

“You keep thinking. I’ll start with this.”

His lips land just above my ankle, and it takes me a second to realize what he’s doing. He’s kissing me everywhere. As his lips trail up my leg, he skims his finger up my inner thigh, and my core clenches. I’m fraught with desperation.

When he gets to the top of my thigh, he strokes his finger up my center.

“There,” I whine. “That’s what I want. Lick my pussy. Please.”