And there’s that surprised look on her face again as she says, “Like I said, every woman needs a Jett. Do you know how many friends I have who would kill to have a husband who put them before their work?”
“You know, I’m kinda liking this whole ‘everyone needs a Jett’ thing you’ve got going on but only so long as it’s you who wants a Jett and so long as it’s for more of the lips-on-dick action.” I give her a wicked grin, and she shakes her head in amusement.
It’s refreshing to find a woman with a great sense of humour. As we start laughing, our food arrives and we spend the next hour eating and talking. It’s easy, which is something rare for me. I find most women difficult to talk to. All they want to do is screw me and worm their way into my life by blinding me with sex. I’ll take the sex any day, but what I crave is good conversation and some laughs. So far, Presley has managed both.
She gives me a serious look when we finish eating, and says, “I think you’d better take me back to the hotel now if we’re going to have any hope at finishing what we started. Otherwise, I may fall asleep mid sex.”
Without hesitating, I stand and reach for her hand. “Let’s get going then,” I say as I assess her. It’s obviously been a long week for her because she looks exhausted.
It takes us longer to walk back than it did to get here, and I’m beginning to wonder if I should just carry her, but she makes it on her own. When we enter her room, I pull her to me and kiss her. She kisses me back but there’s even exhaustion in her kiss. I figured that would be the case, and as I end the kiss, I smooth my hand over her hair and murmur, “Let’s get you to bed.”
She looks puzzled. “Don’t you want to have sex? My lips, your dick . . . remember?”
“Beautiful, you have no idea how much I want to fuck you, but I’m thinking that in your current state even my dick won’t keep you awake.”
A tired smile graces her gorgeous face and she nods. “You’re probably right.”
She walks to the bed and grabs the t-shirt that’s under the pillow. I expect her to change in the bathroom, but instead, she strips down to her panties and pulls the t-shirt on. Fuck, her body is spectacular with its curves and a softness I
don’t see on many women. I don’t even pretend not to watch. No, I settle my ass against the table in the corner, fold my arms across my chest, and enjoy the fuck out of the show. Not that she’s turning it into a show, but Presley undressing is a fucking show.
Once she’s changed, she pulls the bed covers back and gets in. I move to the bed and pull them over her before squatting so we’re at the same level. I want to take one last look at her before leaving. Her eyes are already closing and she smiles at me as she fights sleep.
“I’m so glad I went to that club tonight,” I admit.
The smile is still on her face and her voice is sleepy. “I’m glad you went, too.”
“When do you fly home?”
“Tomorrow, late afternoon.” She’s barely awake now.
“I want to see you again, Presley.”
“Yes . . . the sex will be good . . . we need to do that . . . ”
“No, I want to take you on a date.”
“No dates . . . just sex . . . I don’t do rock stars . . . ” she mumbles through a sleepy haze.
“What do you mean you don’t do rock stars?”
“No, don’t want to do it again . . . ”
She’s almost asleep, and I have no clue what she’s talking about, so I decide to finish this conversation when she’s awake. I kiss her on the forehead and stand. “Night, sweetheart.”
There’s no response except for her steady breathing as she sleeps. She looks so peaceful. I consider sitting in the chair and watching her for a while, but it feels wrong, so I don’t do it. Instead, I take one last look at her and then leave. This won’t be the last time I see her. She can try to say no to me all she likes, but I’m not the kind of man who ever takes no for an answer. If I want something, I always find a way to have it.
3
Presley
I hang up the phone from Darla and mutter a swear word. Our flight has been cancelled, and while she’s decided to take the opportunity to stay in Sydney for a couple of extra days, I have to get home. My cat, Urban, has been staying with a friend, and I need to get back to him. I’m just about to call the airline when there’s a knock at my door.
“Hi,” I say, surprised to see Jett.
He holds a coffee out to me and takes a step forward to enter my room. Although I’m not sure I want him here, there’s a sureness in his stride I like. “Morning.” He greets me with a million dollar smile that sets butterflies off in my stomach.
Shit.