“We’re in a parking lot.”
He smirks and grips the top button of his jeans, undoing them as his eyes lock onto mine. “And?”
“Jagger,” I breathe, watching as he shoves his hand into his jeans, pulling his cock out. It’s already hard, throbbing, and ready. He strokes his hand up and down the thick length of it, and it takes everything inside me not to moan with delight. I glance around quickly, and I can’t see anybody, but in the end, the truth is, I really don’t care.
I want him.
Now.
“Put your hands on me, Willow,” he growls.
“Or what?” I challenge, loving the way his eyes are flashing with desire.
He begins stroking, he leans his head back against the head rest and moans lightly. Bastard knows I like that. He knows I like it, and he knows how much I want him.
“If you don’t touch it, I’ll make myself cum and you’ll miss out,” he growls.
“You wouldn’t,” I breathe.
He strokes again, a little faster this time, and I feel my eyes grow heavy watching his hand move up and down that beautiful cock, tweaking it until he’s panting and his entire body is stiff, the rigid lines of his muscles tense. Part of me wants to reach out and take it, but the other part wants to watch him find his release. I want to watch every inch of him as he explodes with pleasure.
My pussy aches, and I’m so damned turned on it’s hard to concentrate.
“Fuck,” he growls. “Willow, you better do somethin’ because I can’t hold on.”
He strokes, his big hand moving up and down that beautiful cock faster and faster. His blue gaze meets mine, and I lean over, dragging my lips across his. He moans and his hand works faster, squeezing and pulling with quick stokes. I kiss his neck, sucking and licking until he’s so wound up I can see the veins in his arms bulging. What a fucking turn on.
“Fuck,” he barks out, “I can’t ...”
I lean down quickly, replacing his hand with my mouth. I suck him with force and relish in his roar and the feeling of his hips jerking as he releases into my mouth. He growls as spurt after spurt hits the back of my throat. I take it. I take all of him. Curling my fingers around his hard shaft, stroking every last drop from him.
When he’s done, I pull back and look up at him, swiping the back of my mouth with my hand. His lusty eyes lock onto mine. “You’ll be the death of me,” he growls.
“That’s the plan.” I grin. “Come on, it’s time to go shopping.”
I slide out of the car, and a moment later he does, too. His eyes are warm and lusty, and his body looks wound up and perfect as he reaches over and takes my hand and we head into the store together. It feels nice to be in public together, out and about as though we just belong. Everything about Jagger and myself makes me feel like he’s where I belong. We collect everything we need for dinner and return home, both smiling and both happy for the first time in a long, long while.
I wonder, how long will it last?
9
Jagger’s aunt, what can I say? She comes across as a lovely woman, with her dazzling smile, dark hair, and light hazel eyes. She’s tall, slender, and very beautiful for her age. She speaks in soft tones and smiles and nods a lot when listening. She clearly loves Jagger and Maggie. It seems they can do no wrong in her eyes, especially Jagger. She doesn’t have a bad word to say about him, and why should she? He’s a good man, and it’s apparent that she adores him.
Still, there is something about her, from the moment I met her, that seems off. Perhaps it’s the looks she’s giving me as I walk by, or the fact that she’s throwing little comments around that make it clear as day she doesn’t entirely approve of the relationship between Jagger and myself. Maybe I’m being dramatic, so I do my best to keep a smile on my face and my tone light and welcoming.
This matters to him, so it matters to me.
“So, tell me, Willow,” she asks, sitting at the dining table, her fingers resting on the timber, her eyes never leaving me, “what do you do for a living?”
I’m just placing the pot roast onto the table when she asks the question. How do I answer that? I look up at her with a smile, catching Jagger’s curious gaze as he watches the two of us interact. I can see this is important to him, and so I’m doing my best to make sure I don’t say the wrong thing. I want her to like me, I want to be part of his family. It matters to me.