Conquer Your Love(Surrender Your Love 02)

Chapter 21





FOLLOWING JETT INTO the kitchen, I felt a hint of disappointment that he was bottling up again. I wanted to talk about our findings and possible theories, but he was more than eager to make us dinner. I leaned against the kitchen counter and watched him unpack the contents of his box, looking as hot as ever—clad in nothing but his jeans. His feet were bare and the muscles of his back seemed to flex with every move. I ignored my brain’s silent invitation to run my fingertips down his spine and watch him shiver with pleasure, his beautiful tan skin turning into goose bumps under my touch.

“Wanna help me?” Jett asked. I realized the amused glint had not disappeared from his eyes.

Me and cooking?

I laughed. “Yeah, if you don’t mind going to bed hungry. You know I can’t cook.”

“That’s why we’re doing it together.” He retrieved a chopping board and placed it in front of him. “We’ll start off with something quick and easy. I thought we could make Spaghetti Bolognese.”

Given that we were in Italy, how fitting.

I wanted to point out that no Italian recipe was ‘quick and easy’ to me unless it came out of the microwave oven, and judging from all the things he brought, he had every intention to start from scratch. At least he wasn’t expecting we make our own pasta. I grabbed the unopened pack of spaghetti noodles and turned it around to read the instructions.

“You watch the beef while I cut the onions. Deal?” Jett offered. He grabbed a knife from the knife rack and began to peel off an onion.

“Deal.”

I had always been rather slow at chopping anything and I’d rather not have my eyes watering and my mascara running, so I placed the minced beef into a frying pan, added a few drops of oil and turned on the heat—the way I had seen it on TV. It was my first attempt at cooking something as complicated as meat. I had watched my fair share of cooking shows. They always made cooking look easy and I blamed them for my fear. But, really, how hard could it be?

Half a minute later, the minced beef began to sizzle unnaturally loud and the first trickles of sweat rolled down my spine, which I could attribute to anything from my fear of cooking, the heat of the stove, or Jett’s presence. From the corner of my eyes, I admired his abs, so strong and well defined, and the tattoo covering his arm. I knew I had to stop staring before he noticed, but I couldn’t help myself. He looked so sexy, peeling the tomatoes and grating carrots and chopping up herbs, my mind kept conjuring naughty ideas of me stripping him off his jeans and having sex while our dinner boiled to perfection.

Jett shot me an amused look, sending a wave of heat through my cheeks and lower abdomen. “Something smells burned.”

I blinked my brain back into action.

Oh, crap!

I forgot about the meat.

“Sorry.” My skin prickled from the way his eyes seemed to caress me from a distance. I flipped the meat over and breathed out relieved. It had turned a dark brown color but it was definitely not burned.

Jett moved behind me, his hands brushing mine as he helped me stir, then added the onions. His hot breath tickled my back, making me all too aware just how close he stood.

“Want me to remove the pan from the stove?” I asked, unable to control the hoarse undertone of my voice.

“No, the beef’s not done for another few minutes.”

It looked pretty done to me.

“You never told me where you learned to cook,” I said.

I felt him stiffen behind me, hesitating. “After my father kicked me out and he cut off my allowance, I took a job in a restaurant kitchen. I was either that or get involved in the drugs crap everyone seemed to fall into.”

“You worked in a kitchen at sixteen? Is that even allowed?”

“I looked older and lied about my age. I needed the money.” He spun me around until his eyes met mine. “My family was rich, Brooke, but everything I own I earned myself through hard work and loving what I do.”

“I can’t get over the fact that your father threw you out. If you hadn’t been the strong person you are, staying off drugs, we might not be having this conversation. How could you forgive him and help him after all he’s done to you?”

“I’d be lying if I told you I’ve forgiven him.” He shrugged, as if it didn’t matter. But it did. I could see it in the hurt glint in his eyes and the hard lines around his mouth. “I hated him for a long time, but he’s still my father, Brooke. If it wasn’t for the shitty stuff he did to me, I wouldn’t be who I am now. The trials of our lives make us strong, determined to succeed, to be different, both in body and spirit.”

He took the spoon from my hand and stirred one more time, then added the peeled tomatoes, chopped carrots, and grated cheese to the mix.

The air was charged with tension. I could feel his struggle to remain calm in the midst of the hurricane raging inside him, and I asked myself how much stronger that hurricane must have been when he was younger. A part of me wondered how many people knew the story of his life and upbringing—his true side, not the one he showed to his prospective business partners and the journalists writing about him in their stories.

He was beginning to trust me. Another first. Another step that proved to me he was serious about us. Affection’s easy to gain, but trust is hard to get and yet so easy to crush and lose.

Jett took a deep breath, his eyes turning cold again. “You can forget what people said and did, but you never forget how they made you feel. You can forgive the people who hurt you, but you will remember what they taught you.” His gaze searched mine, waiting for warmth and understanding, which I was more than eager to give him.

“He’s not a bad man, Brooke. He was a strict father, and he threw me out because he believed in discipline, whereas my mother—she only thought of herself when she left us. She didn’t stay in contact. She loved her drugs more than us, which was so much worse than anything my father ever did. At least he cared enough to stay. He helped me out of the hole I buried for myself. I can forgive him, because he did what he had to do but I’ll never forget how he made me feel.”

His eyes glazed over, his mind recalling memories I couldn’t reach. I brushed his back gently and his attention returned to me. “Can I forgive my father for seeking the perversions of whatever Alessandro’s club occasioned? Possibly. Will I forget the kind of man Robert is? Probably not.”

He added the pasta to the boiling water, avoiding my gaze but I caught the glint of anger shimmering in his eyes nonetheless. It wasn’t aimed at me; it was at his family—the people who should’ve loved him unconditionally, yet betrayed him when he needed them the most. In that instant I understood why he thought his father deserved a chance. Robert had been there for him once, or at least more than Jett’s mother, so Jett felt a sense of obligation toward the old man.

I imagined myself having Robert Mayfield as my father. Stern, hard, unrelenting, maybe even merciless. Having someone like him in my family, having to accept him just because he was my father, the only parent I had after the other one left. It wasn’t a beautiful picture.

As if sensing the dark direction of my thoughts, Jett smiled at me weakly and the warmth in his eyes returned, enveloping me like a safe bubble.

“I’d do anything to avoid being like them,” he said softly.

I kissed the palm of his hand, wishing I could make him forget or at least ease the burden of his memories weighing down his soul. Returning his smile, I let my fingers glide up and down his sculpted arms. I wanted to help him forget, if only for a few minutes, and the only way I knew how to do that was to give him my passion. Gazing up at him, I trailed my hand from his nipple to his abdomen. The top button of his jeans was undone and I could make out the happy trail of dark hair that always enticed me.

“Are you horny?” His piercing eyes turned a darker shade of green. I could see his instant desire in the way his jeans tightened around his groin and the way he watched me.

“A bit.” I bit my lip. “And you?

“I’m always horny when you’re around.” He laughed, his voice hoarse and erotic, filled with a silent invitation. “You’re sexy. You set everything on fire, and you know I can’t keep my hands off you when you’re looking at me like this.”

He tugged at the belt of my bathrobe, opening it slowly. My blood rushed harder and my breath came faster. Towering over me, he looked at me with his sexy bedroom eyes, the kind of eyes that said everything along the lines: I want you. I need you. And if you don’t give me what I crave, I’ll take it. And you’ll like it. You’ll love it. You’ll want more.

And I did. I wanted him. I wanted him so bad that I buried my hands in his hair, and I pressed my body against him, my desire burning through me like hot lava, burning my mind, burning through every barrier that held me back. His fingers caught hold of my hips, pulling me against him, and his mouth descended upon mine so hard, heat pooled between my legs.

“I f*cking want you. I want you so hard.” His fingers trailed down my thighs and then up again, his scorching touch sending my pulse into a frenzy. “I want you so much, I don’t want you to be with anyone but me.”

His hot lips moved to the corner of my mouth while his thumb stroked my cheek, the other hand caressing the sensitive spot between my legs. A soft moan escaped my mouth as he started to kiss my shoulders. His teeth grazed my skin. I imagined them on my nipples and on the inside of my thighs.

An unpleasant smell reached my nostrils.

“It’s burning.”

Our dinner was burning. Pushing Jett away, I reached out to remove the pan from the hotplate but he beat me to it.

“That’s not the only thing burning here.” His sexy smile made me melt like chocolate under his double meaning forbidden promise. “It’s crazy how much you turn me on.”

He switched off the stove, his fingers moving so fast I couldn’t follow. One second I watched him brush aside the clutter covering the oversized kitchen counter, and the next second both of his hands cupped my ass and lifted me onto the counter. My bathrobe barely covered my naked body as he started to kiss my shoulders and my nipples, the bulge in his slacks rubbing hard and deliciously against my sex starved entrance.

“Jett,” I whispered. “Is it really a good idea to do it here?”

“What’s wrong with it? We’ve never done it in the kitchen. It’s only a matter of time until we do so we might as well do it right here, right now.”

“Good point.”

How could I argue with that?

The tip of his tongue moistened his lower lip, leaving a glistering trail of moisture behind. My fingers clawed at his back, pulling him against me. His thumb started to rub my *oris until I felt my juices slowly gathering between my legs, and then ever so slowly, he dipped his finger inside me, the rotating motion making me moan.

“You’re turning me on,” I whispered against his shoulder.

His finger moved faster, matching the pace of his thumb, as he thrust it in and out. I raised my hips and wrapped my thighs around his waist. My stomach quivered. My whole body trembled for him as his thumb continued to stimulate my *.

“I want you inside me.”

“Not yet,” Jett whispered. “You’re so wet. Do you hear that?” He laughed quietly into my neck as he slid a second finger into me. My sex clenched around him, welcoming him with a squishing hum. “That’s the sound of love, baby. That’s how I know I turn you on.”

Holy mother of pearls!

Did he have to be so blunt? My cheeks caught fire. I opened my mouth to protest, but he shut me up with a hot rich kiss, his talented fingers continuing to do their magic tricks, bringing me closer to the edge.

Holy cow.

The guy was good. Really good.

Higher and higher waves of arousal washed over me, and my head began to spin in the vortex only Jett could create. I didn’t mind the vulnerability—lying naked on the kitchen counter. I didn’t mind that the kitchen had two large windows and anyone could see me in the heights of lust. Hell, I didn’t even mind Jett watching me circling my hips shamelessly against his talented hand. What I minded was not having him inside me when my orgasm was near. From the even thrusts of his fingers, I knew his little torture would get me there fast.

As if sensing my thoughts, Jett’s fingers pulled out of me. ”Are you ready for a deeper plunge?” His voice dripped with insinuation, as his thumb continued to circle around my *.

I felt the prod of his erection against my sensitive entry and ran my hands down his chest, exploring the hardness of his muscles beneath my fingers. He kissed me as he spread my legs wider, his tongue tangling with mine, sucking it, nibbling my lips, while the length of his erection rubbed against my entry, spreading the moisture of our arousal.

“You have me but are you mine?” Jett whispered, his deep voice sending another delicious pull through the depths of my sex. Did he have to talk when I was balancing on the edge of insanity, waiting for him to give me the final push? I was wet and in need of release; if he wouldn’t give it, then I’d go for it and take it.

“I’m yours, Jett.” I moistened my lips, the lust savaging my body throbbing so hard I was ready to demand his rawness fill the emptiness inside me. I lifted my legs higher, my hips silently pleading with his hard shaft to enter me.

“I’ll take you at your word.”

His large erection slid deep into my wet sex, filling me, taking every inch I had to offer. I quivered with delight at the way his shaft felt inside me—moving, thrusting—slow but immensely deep. His groans became louder and faster as I matched his movements. With every pound my nerve endings caught fire anew, until my sheath contracted around him, sucking him deeper into me, creating a feeling of closeness and intimacy as he impaled and stretched me. Lost in him, I let go of everything but the sensation of him slamming into me.

Jett dipped his tongue into my mouth, mirroring the fast movements of his hips, his hard flesh plunging deep inside me. He told me how tight I was, how beautiful I was in my need for him, and how he felt my orgasm building as I arched my back to welcome his thrusts.

“Brooke,” he moaned my name, a moment before my vision blurred and I bucked against him. Waves of pleasure rocked my body. A moment later thick hot moisture exploded inside me and he climaxed against my damp body, consumed by the pleasure my body had given him. And I drowned in the sea of release, the air heavy with our scent mixed with herbs.



***



We were still panting when Jett buttoned up his jeans and helped me off the counter. I wrapped my bathrobe against my shivering body and tied my wet hair at the nape of my neck.

“Are you okay?” Jett placed a soft kiss on my forehead.

I nodded, figuring I didn’t need a mirror to know that my cheeks were red and I was smiling, matching the grin on his face. I had never made love in a kitchen so another first for us.

We cleaned up the mess and erased any proof of our intimate session in silence, enjoying each other’s presence without the need to talk. By the time we were done it was a little after ten. Jett followed my glance to my watch and wrapped his arms around me whispering, “Tired?”

“Very.”

“It’s been a hard day. Do you care for a pre-midnight snack?” His eyes twinkled with mischief and for a moment I wasn’t sure whether he was talking about food or sex—until he drained the pasta in a sieve.

“I’m starving,” I said, ready to take whichever of the two options he offered. “You finish dinner while I get changed.”

“Don’t take too long, woman.” He slapped my butt playfully. I giggled and moved past him.

Upstairs, I slipped into a clean pair of jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. I was halfway through the foyer when I noticed Jett standing near the window, in the darkness of the living room.

“You scared me.” I laughed uneasily.

“Shhh.” He pressed a finger against his mouth and motioned me to step closer. I tiptoed to him, wondering what the heck was going on.

“What’s wrong?” I whispered because his paranoia was contagious. He pulled the curtain aside so I could look. It took my eyes several seconds to adjust to the darkness and my brain another few seconds to process what I was seeing. A man was standing near the house, his features blurred in the moonlight, so I couldn’t make out his face.

“Stay here and be quiet,” Jett whispered.

“Are you crazy? I’m not staying behind,” I whispered. He shushed me by placing a finger on my lips, motioning me to stay. I watched him sneak to the door his hand wrapped around a gun. It had to be the same one I had seen in the car. He must have hid it in his jacket or in the grocery box. My hands covered my mouth to stifle a scream.

Oh god!

He was going to shoot and someone would get hurt.

My heart hammered so hard all I could hear was my blood rushing through my veins. And then my mind began to spin with possibilities. What if the other guy carried a gun too and he shot Jett? What if Jett killed him and we’d end up in even bigger trouble? What if there were more people outside just waiting for Jett to walk blindly into a trap?

I wasn’t going to let my guy die. He had to stay inside—with me— and keep that door closed so that nobody could enter and we could call for help.

“Jett, no.” I whispered after him, shaking my head, signaling to stay. But he ignored me. Before I could move an inch, he was outside. Paralyzed by fear, I pulled the curtain aside. The intruder was gone and Jett disappeared out of my vision.

I wasn’t going to stay put and wait for disaster to strike. Before I could change my mind, I dashed out the door as quietly as I could, aware that my breathing sounded like I had a saxophone inside my chest.

The night was pitch black. The moon hid behind thick clouds but the air was surprisingly balmy. Apart from the chirping of crickets, I could hear no sounds. I moved past the white balustrades, down the stone stairs, gravel crunching beneath my feet as I took a left turn toward where I thought I had seen Jett disappear through the window. My eyes were slowly adjusting to the darkness—good enough to show me the way, but too weak not to mistake tree shadows and branches for people. Still, my courage was stronger than my fear. It was true. Love gave me courage.

I walked around the house, almost reaching the front porch, when Jett and another guy appeared in my line of vision.

“Drop your weapon before I shoot you.” Jett’s voice was cold, unrelenting. A voice that would not hesitate to hurt someone, a voice I had never heard before. A voice so damn sexy I would’ve smiled with pride at the fact that he was my man—if I wasn’t so scared. A twig snapped under my feet. Jett turned his head sharply and in the darkness his gaze fell on me. I could almost see the angry lines around his mouth.

“What the f*ck? Go back inside, Brooke.”

Holy cow, he was hot when he was angry. His tone kept me transfixed to the spot, unable to follow his command.

“What did I tell you, Brooke? Get back inside,” Jett hissed.

My feet felt like they were glued to the spot.

“Turn around,” Jett ordered the man.

“Jett?” Holding up his hands, the guy spun around. The first two things I noticed about him were his black leather jacket and the tattoos on his naked arms.

It was the same guy from the bar—the one Sylvie couldn’t keep her hands off.

I blinked several times as I tried to match the man standing in front of Jett to the memory inside my head. Strong jaw. Pierced eyebrow. Sturdy build. And he was tall; almost as tall as Jett. Yeah, it was definitely the same person and he still looked like a drug dealer.

“He must have followed us from the club,” I said. “Should I call the police?”

“That’s your girl?” the guy said. I couldn’t help but notice the amusement in his tone. “I’m glad you found her, man.”

“Kenny.” Jett slapped his shoulder. “I was about to shoot you. Yeah, that’s her.”

“You know him?” I inched closer. Jett wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close, grinning.

“This is Kenny. We’re going way back,” Jett said.

He stepped closer to me and extended his hand. “I’m Kenny. Jett’s friend.”

“Nice to meet you.” I shook his hand, my heart still pounding because, in all honesty, I couldn’t shake off the feeling he was involved in some shady business.

Your girl.

My mind circled around Kenny’s words. Was that how Jett had titled me around his friends?

“What are you doing here?” Jett said, oblivious to the sudden burst of affection invading my heart. “Now it makes sense why I couldn’t reach you.”

“Went on a date.” Kenny grinned.

I blinked because the answer was so obvious and yet I had to ask. “A date? With whom?”

“A blond girl—Sylvie,” Kenny said.

Sylvie went on a date with him and didn’t tell me? “Where is she?” I asked.

“She told me she couldn’t use the front door, because someone was home, so I walked her around the house. I had no clue you guys were in there. I thought she was living with her parents.” Kenny seemed like a nice guy. Friendly. Good manners. Definitely not how I pictured him at all. And he was Jett’s friend. I found myself warming up to him.

“Do you want to come in?” I asked. “We were about to eat but there’s enough food and drink for everyone.”

Jett raised his brow. I shrugged and smiled at Kenny in the hope he’d accept my invitation because I wanted to get to know Jett’s friends. I wanted to know everything about him.

“Thanks,” Kenny said.

We switched on the lights in the hall and were halfway to the kitchen when I spied Sylvie through the open living room door. At the sight of Kenny, she smiled and opened her mouth to explain. I cut her off.

“Yeah, I know. He told us already. Turns out he and Jett are friends.”

“How long have you been involved?” Jett asked.

Sylvie’s jaw dropped. “What the f*ck is wrong with you? Do I look like I’m crazy and participating in a sect?”

“It’s a club,” I said. “And I think Jett was asking about Kenny and you.”

Jett turned his head back to me, mild annoyance shimmering in his eyes. “I told you not to tell anybody.”

“She didn’t,” Sylvie said. “I’m just psychic.”

I laughed at her sarcasm. My laughter died in my throat at Jett’s glare. “We’ve been best friends forever. She’d never betray my trust.”

Sylvie’s chin shot up and her eyes sparkled with pride. “That’s true. I’m the most trustworthy person in the world. Your secret’s safe with me—even safer than with the CIA and I’ve heard they keep secrets pretty well.”

“Right,” Jett muttered.

We were in the kitchen when Kenny said to Jett, “You pulled out a f*cking gun on me. Were you trying to impress her, man?”

“No need to. Done that already.” Jett grinned and winked at me.

Earth swallow me up whole!

“Sorry, I didn’t want to interrupt you guys,” Sylvie whispered.

“You didn’t.”

I forced a smile to my face and prayed she would mistake my blush for the beginning of sunburn. If she had entered the house a few minutes earlier, she would have caught us in the middle of an intimate sex act.

“We were busy with cooking. Right, Brooke?” Jett said. “I was teaching her how to prepare meat.”

Kenny let out a low chuckle.

“Aw, that’s nice,” Sylvie said, oblivious to the shame burning inside me at Jett’s double meaning and the way his hand rested possessively on my ass like it belonged there.