Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 105665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Max glared at Jersey and her victorious smile. “What did your note say, Jersey?”
She shrugged. “What did Ian say?”
“He told us to send you in and give him ten minutes.”
Chris was right. The perverted bastard was right.
Jersey winked at Max, making it look awkward and exaggerated like Max’s crazy wink earlier.
“Make it quick. We need to get him back to the hotel,” Max grumbled.
“As quick as I can.” Jersey made an invisible cross over her chest with her finger before going into the green room and shutting the door.
“Lock it.” Ian’s deep, slightly strained voice startled her from her cloud of gloating.
Jersey locked the door.
“Do you have any idea how many ‘I want to suck your dick’ notes I get after my concerts?”
Jersey prowled toward him, feigning more confidence than she actually felt in her gut. “Three? Four?”
Ian cringed, rolling from his side to his back on the sofa. “Times a hundred.”
“So … lucky me …” She eased his legs apart and kneeled on the couch between them. If she had to infiltrate a man’s life to the point of doing absolutely anything to gain his trust, there were far worse choices than Ian Cooper. He personified sexy in a way Jersey had never experienced in her secluded life on the streets of Newark.
Ian swallowed hard, staring at her with a dark look in his eyes. “I’m not letting you suck my dick.”
She kissed his abs along his shirtless torso to the top of his happy trail. He tasted like salt. He probably needed a shower, but Jersey wasn’t an expert on smells either. Maybe if Ian had gone months without showering, she might have detected something unpleasant about him.
“Yet … you told me to lock the door.” Jersey dipped her tongue into his belly button as she unfastened his jeans.
“Jersey …” Ian protested in a pathetically weak voice.
“Coop …” She pulled him free from his boxer briefs.
Ian was fully aroused for someone claiming he wasn’t going to let her do that to him.
“Just shut up.” Her tongue teased him. “And close your eyes. I can’t do this with you looking at me.”
He seethed, maybe from the feel of her warm mouth on him, maybe from actual back pain. She didn’t care. Pain wasn’t worth an apology.
Ian closed his eyes and caressed her hair as she did her best to do something she detested beyond words. It wasn’t the dick that made her want to vomit, it was his gentle touch, the way he petted her like a good animal.
“That’s it, Jersey. You’re such a sweet girl to make me feel good. I’m going to make you feel good too.” Her past could never be silenced.
Without stopping her motions, she grabbed his wrists and pinned them to his chest, gripping them tightly so he kept them out of her hair. She wasn’t a pet. She didn’t need stroking and praise.
“Jersey …” Ian’s voice cracked like it pained him, but as his pelvis made tiny thrusts toward her, she knew he was just a guy sitting by his family in church thinking about the secretary blowing him in his office the next day.
She hated that Chris was right.
Ian Cooper was just a guy. And his weakness would become her greatest strength. A few minutes later, his abs constricted. He moaned as he tried to sit up, as he tried to pull away from her. Jersey pushed him back and took everything he gave her.
Keeping his eyes closed, lips parted, hands relaxed on his chest, Ian whispered, “Why?”
Jersey grabbed the half-empty bottle of water on the floor and poured the rest down her throat before climbing off the sofa. “Now we’re even.” She exited the room before he opened his eyes.
Jersey shouldered her way past Nick and Max without making eye contact.
“Jers?” Chris passed her, wearing a concerned expression while trying to grab her arm to stop her. She jerked away and stumbled into the single-stalled ladies’ room, falling to her knees and vomiting in the toilet. When men raped women by thrusting their dicks into women’s mouths and spewing their disgusting bodily fluids down their victim’s throats, vomiting was the only way to numb the pain, silence the guilt, and regain some sense of control.
Ian didn’t rape Jersey, but he didn’t stop her either. She needed to remember that beneath that appealing exterior and seductive voice lived a man.
A simple, predictable, self-serving, dick of a man.
“Jers …” Chris’s voice sounded behind her.
“Get out!” She wiped her mouth.
CHAPTER
FIFTEEN
“Will you consent to STD testing?” Max casually asked while looking over the breakfast menu in their shared Madison, Wisconsin hotel room two days later.
Jersey hadn’t seen Ian since their encounter in Chicago. Nick kept him behind for extra acupuncture treatments and physical therapy while Max drove Jersey to Madison.
“It was a blowjob. What could I have possibly given him?”