Sean shook her hand. “You’re a sweet girl. Tyler has great taste in women. Always has. Just like his old man.” He put his arm around Gloria.
Tyler led Jenna to the door. “See you later, Dad.”
They rode down the elevator in silence, and it was much the same on the short ride back to their hotel. When they got back to their room, Jenna came up to Tyler and put her arms around him.
“What’s this for?”
“No reason.” Maybe she needed it more than he did, but she figured he needed it, too.
“My dad can be an asshole.”
She leaned back. “No, he’s not.”
“Yeah, he is.”
“Your parents are night and day different. Your mom’s kind of quiet and reserved. Your dad is very boisterous. I can see why they didn’t mesh well.”
His lips lifted. “That’s being kind.”
“I like Gloria.”
“So do I. And my dad likes to impress people. He just doesn’t know how to do it, so he comes across as a prick. His social skills need work. My mother worked for most of her life. And when she wasn’t working, she was catering to me and my dad. She didn’t know what to do with herself after the divorce so she stayed in the house and kept her memories of me alive like some goddamned shrine. She sews and bakes and has a small circle of friends that she’s had forever, but she never remarried. She took back her maiden name because she hates my father that much. She just never figured out how to move on and carve out a new life for herself. She’s frozen in that house. I think you might have helped her with that tonight. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome, but I think your mother has done just fine moving on. She might not have done it right away, but everyone does things at their own pace.”
“I guess you’re right.”
Jenna swept his hair away from his brow. “You don’t have to apologize for your parents. They are who they are and they have nothing to do with who you are.”
He looked down at her. “They have everything to do with who I am.”
“You think so? I don’t believe that. I think we forge our own identities. We aren’t tied to our parents, their pasts, or their mistakes. We don’t have to be like them—the good or the bad.”
He dragged the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip. “Maybe.”
“No maybe about it. You become who you want to be, not who your parents are or were. It’s all up to you.”
He looked down at her and she got lost in the beauty of his face, the intensity of his eyes as he studied her.
“You’re good for me,” he said.
“Am I? All this time I think you’ve been the one who’s been good for me.”
Jenna pushed Ty onto the sofa in the living room of the suite. She went to the door and dimmed the lights. She came back to stand in front of him and removed her boots and tights, along with her panties, then reached inside her dress and pulled off her bra, leaving her wearing only that smoking-hot black dress. She kneeled on the rug in front of the sofa and crept in between his knees, snaking her fingers along his thighs.
Ty held his breath as Jenna shouldered herself in between his legs.
He should be pleasuring her, not the other way around, but damn if he could find a good enough reason to object to this. His dick was hard and pressing against the zipper of his pants, and her hands were inching their way to the promised land. No way was he going to stop her.
Her hair looked like midnight silver in the dim light of the room, her eyes smoky and dark as she lifted her lashes only long enough to give him a teasing glimpse before dipping her head and biting his knee.
He laughed. “You want something to bite? I’ll tell you where to bite.”
“I think I’m familiar enough with your anatomy to map it myself. Be patient.”
She scraped her fingernails down his thighs, then reached for his belt buckle, taking her damn sweet time undoing the clasp before grasping the zipper. Each movement of the zipper caused him to grit his teeth. She was being deliberately slow when all he wanted to do was jerk the damn thing down and release his swollen cock.
Once his zipper was undone, she bent and took off his shoes and socks, teasing him by sliding her hands up into his pants.
“For a guy, you have great calves.”
He couldn’t even speak. His throat had gone dry. He wanted her hands and her mouth on his dick, not waxing poetic about other body parts. But this was her seduction and he was going to have to sit still and deal with it.
She pulled his pants and briefs down over his hips, dragged them off, and threw them on the chair.
His cock jutted up, ready for the taking, but she ignored it, instead rising up to undo the bottom button of his shirt…slowly.
Goddamn it.
“Let me do that.” He reached for the buttons, but she grabbed his hands and laid them on the sofa.
“No. This is my job.”
Shit.
She undid the second button, and the third, then the fourth, and he broke into a sweat. Who knew the act of undoing shirt buttons could make him even harder?