Hot Ride (Summer Lovin’)

Chapter 7

Jett

The kiss is everything I've been craving—raw, real and utterly intoxicating. I'm done running from what I want, from what I feel. And god, do I feel for this woman.

The taste of her, all sweetness and sin, lingers on my tongue, an addictive flavor I'll never get enough of. This woman is in my veins now, a part of me, and damn if that doesn't feel more right than anything in my whole messed up life.

I cup her face, tilting her chin so her gorgeous eyes meet mine.

“There's no going back.” My voice is a low growl, thick with longing—a promise and a vow. “Not for me. Not after this, Scar.”

She pulls back, her eyes shining with desire and uncertainty, searching my face for answers. “What about Daniel?”

Her words cut through the haze of lust like a cold splash of reality. The genuine concern for her brother is etched in the slight furrow of her brow, and how she catches her lip between her teeth.

I get it, I do. Daniel's not just her brother, he's my best friend, my brother in all the ways that count.

But this thing between Scarlett and me, it's not some tawdry fling or casual hookup. It's real, and powerful in a way I've never experienced before.

She's the missing piece I never knew I was searching for, the other half of my soul.

I brush my thumb over the seductive fullness of her lip, her breath catching at my touch.

“He'll understand,” I murmur, my voice low and rough with conviction. I have to believe that. Daniel knows me better than anyone. He'll see the truth of what Scarlett means to me.

I lean closer until I can feel the heat of her body and smell the intoxicating scent that is pure Scarlett. “Trust me, baby,” I whisper against her lips, a vow and a plea all in one. “It will be alright. We'll make it alright.”

Because I'm done denying what I feel, done letting fear and obligation rule my life. Before she can protest further, I capture her mouth again, kissing her with a possessiveness that borders on feral. Scarlett's fingers tangle in my hair, tugging me impossibly closer.

“Jett.” She whispers my name like a prayer. I swear I've never heard a sweeter sound.

I grasp her curvy hips possessively, pulling her pliant body close, and letting her feel how much I want her.

Nothing else matters–not the grueling tour schedule, not the screaming fans, not even my next hit song. This connection between us eclipses everything. I need to mark her, bind her to me completely, erasing any doubt that we belong to each other.

Scarlett breaks the searing kiss with a devilish grin, her cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling with mischief. I'm breathless, my heart pounding against my ribcage, every nerve ending electrified by her touch.

With a challenging look that sends heat straight to my core, she reaches for the mini-bar, snagging a bottle of Jack Daniels, the same whiskey we used to steal sips of as teenagers.

“Liquid courage,” she purrs, her voice a teasing rasp that makes me ache to taste the whiskey on her tongue.

She pours two shots with a steady hand, the amber liquid sloshing invitingly. Then she knocks one back in a single gulp, her throat working as she swallows. It's so unexpected, so out of character for the studious good girl I thought I knew, that it takes a moment for my lust-fogged brain to catch up.

Scarlett, the brilliant, straight-A student who always played it safe, is treating hard liquor like water? But this bold, uninhibited side of her—a side I never dreamed existed under her cool, polished surface—has me straining against my jeans, desperate to discover what other surprises she's been hiding.

“Your turn.” Her husky voice is an invitation impossible to resist.

I throw it back, relishing the burn. But it's nothing compared to the heat in Scarlett's gaze. Suddenly, she's on me, nimble fingers gripping my shirt. She tears it open with a sharp tug, buttons scatter across the floor.

My pulse races as she pushes the fabric off my shoulders, her fingers trailing over the exposed skin. I hiss at the contact, every nerve ending sparking to life.

Her eyes roam over my exposed torso with undisguised hunger. A low, appreciative sound rumbles from her throat.

I flex instinctively, muscles tightening under her scorching appraisal. “Like what you see?”

She leans in, her lips a breath away from mine. “You have no idea,” she murmurs against my mouth.

Her fingertips trace the ink etched into my skin, leaving trails of fire in their wake. “Tell me about this one,” she whispers, following the path of a serpentine dragon that coils around my ribcage.

I draw in a shuddering breath as her nails graze my flesh. “Got that after our first sold-out tour. It was a reminder of how far I'd come, how much music meant to me.”

She hums in appreciation, her fingers drifting to the scripted lyrics spanning my ribs. “And this?”

“Lyrics from the first song I ever wrote.” I confess, my breath hitching as her touch ignites sparks beneath my skin. “It's about chasing dreams, no matter the cost.”

Her lips quirk into that devilish smirk I've come to crave. “And what does this represent?” She traces the Japanese characters inked along my hipbone.

A low groan escapes me as her hand drifts perilously close to the rapidly tightening front of my jeans. “Perseverance,” I rasp. “For making it through the darkest times.”

Her gaze meets mine, shining with understanding and something deeper—acceptance. It’s like she sees past everything and straight into my core essence. It's electrifying and mildly terrifying.

“What about this one?” She presses a scorching kiss to the musical note behind my ear.

A guttural sound tears from my throat as her teeth graze the sensitive skin. “For the one constant in my life,” I confess in a rush. “The thing that's always made sense, no matter how crazy everything else got.”

Her eyes shimmer with a mix of awe and desire as she takes me in. “Is that why you got into music? To make sense of things?”

I pause, caught off guard by the depth of her question and my own vulnerability. But I can't lie to her and I don't want to.

“It was my escape,” I admit roughly. “From a shitty home life, from feelings I didn't understand...”

I hesitate, unsure if I can bare my soul. But she just watches, patiently and open, encouraging me to continue. So I do.

“Writing songs, losing myself in the music—it was the only way I knew how to process everything. To survive.” I let out a shaky breath.

For a beat, she's utterly still, allowing my confession to sink in. Then, with agonizing tenderness, she cups my face. “You've always been so passionate, so driven.”

I capture her hand, pressing a reverent kiss to her palm. “You're the only one who sees me, Scar. The real me.”

Then she's kissing me again, and it's like the world tilts on its axis. Nothing exists but the exquisite slide of her tongue, the taste of whiskey, and something infinitely more addictive—her.

I groan into the kiss, my hands roaming the curves of her body, desperate to map every inch of her. She arches into my touch, a breathy moan escaping her lips. The sound ignites a primal hunger in me. I need her, all of her, in a way I've never needed anyone.

My hands find her hips, pulling her close. She gasps at the contact, and I growl into her mouth. “Holy shit, Scar—” I growl, my voice rough with need. “You have no idea what you're doing to me.”

She smirks, a wicked curve of her lips that I want to taste again and again. “Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea.”

Emboldened, she straddles my lap, her soft curves molding deliciously against me. Her legs instinctively wrap around my hips, pressing closer.

I grip her hips to steady us both as she leans in, her lips only a breath away. Any other thoughts vanish as she presses hot, open-mouthed kisses along my throat.

My hands find the hem of her shirt, tugging it upward urgently. We break the kiss just long enough for me to pull it over her head and toss it aside.

She stands before me, chest heaving, clad in only a lacy black bra. My mouth goes dry at the sight of her, chest heaving, wearing only a lacy black bra.

“Beautiful,” I breathe reverently. “So damn beautiful.”

A flush stains her cheeks, but there's no shyness in her gaze. Only desire, hot and heavy, mirroring my own.

I reach for her, my hands spanning her waist, thumbs brushing the underside of her breasts. She shivers at the contact, her nipples tightening against the delicate lace.

I dip my head, trailing open-mouthed kisses along the column of her throat, reveling in the way her pulse jumps beneath my lips.

I tangle my fingers in her hair, dragging her mouth back to mine. The kiss is deep, possessive, a silent vow. I won't fuck this up. I won't fuck us up.

Scarlett moans into the kiss, her hands roaming my chest, her nails leaving trails of fire in their wake. I can't take it anymore. I need her, all of her. Now.

Muttering a coarse curse, I stand up, hoisting her into my arms. Her legs wrap around my waist as I stride toward the bed and lay her down on the crisp, white sheets.

Her heated gaze never once leaves mine, and my cock surges against my fly at the hunger in her eyes. She's a vision of pure, unadulterated desire.

“Tell me what you want,” I rasp, fighting to keep my voice even. “What you need.”

She hesitates, bites her lip, and whispers “You.”

That simple admission is all I need. With shaking hands, I unclasp her bra and let it join her discarded shirt on the floor. Her breasts spill free, pert and perfect, the dusky pink tips puckered and hard.

I trail a reverent finger around one swollen areola before flicking my tongue across its peak. Scarlett arches underneath me with a soft gasp.

“Jett,” she moans my name like a prayer as I lavish attention on the other nipple. She tastes like honeyed nectar against my tongue—sweetness and heat and everything good in this world.

With aching slowness, I kiss my way down her stomach all lush curves and bare skin. I hook my thumbs into her lacy panties, dragging them off her hips.

She raises her hips, impatiently kicking them off the rest of the way.

Her scent hits me—a heady mix of arousal and feminine heat. My cock aches in response, straining against my jeans.

“You're so damn incredible,” I rasp.

“Jett,” she moans, her hips arching off the bed. “I need?—”

“I know,” I reassure her, unbuttoning my jeans with shaking hands. “I've got you.”

Without further delay, I kick my pants away, drop to my knees and settle between her thighs.

“God, Jett,” Scar moans, her fingers raking through my hair as I tease the apex of her thighs with featherlight kisses. “Please?—”

With a groan of pure need, I wedge my shoulder against her thigh, opening her wide, parting her soft folds with ease. Her body is slick and hot against me, and I can't help but groan at the sensation.

“You like that?” I ask against her heated flesh, swirling my tongue around her clit before dipping inside her slick depths.

Scarlett's back arches off the mattress, her nails digging into the sheets. “Y-yes!”

Fueled by her response, I press two fingers inside her, curling them inward to hit that sweet spot. She clenches around my fingers.

“You're so fucking tight,” I groan against her skin. “So wet for me.”

“Jett,” she whimpers, her face flushed a deep shade of scarlet. “Please?—”

I increase the pace, curling my fingers and finger-fucking her as she bucks against my mouth. Her pussy clenches around my fingers. She's close. So damn close.

“Jett, I—” she pants, her voice catching.

I look up, watching her eyes squeeze shut with pleasure, her moans spurring me on.

“That's it, babe,” I murmur, my own breath ragged. “Let me make you feel good.”

With practiced strokes, I work her over, every moan, every whimper spurring me on. This is my Scarlett—passionate, uninhibited, and mine for the taking.

“You can come for me, baby,” I encourage, my voice hoarse with lust. “Let go.”

And then, just like that, she shatters around my fingers. I drink in the sight as she comes apart. Her body tenses, her legs shake as climax punches through her in waves. It’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen.

Panting, she collapses against the sheets, a dazed smile playing on her lips. “That was?—”

I lazily bring my fingers to my mouth, tasting her juices. “Incredible.”

Her cheeks flame, but she doesn't avert her gaze. There's a fire in her eyes I've never seen before, and it's fucking hot.

Scarlett slips her hand beneath the waistband of my boxer briefs, pulling them down.

“Lie back for me,” she orders, her voice dripping with lust.

I eagerly oblige, my body tingling with anticipation.

“Like this?” she asks, wrapping her lips around the head of my cock and taking me into her mouth.

“Fuck yes,” I groan, gripping the sheets as she swirls her tongue around the head of my cock before swallowing me whole.

She's skilled with her tongue, teasing every sensitive spot like she's known them all her life.

“You taste so fucking good,” she moans, massaging my balls as she deep-throats me.

Her moans drive me wild, and her hand on my balls adds to the intense pleasure. I thrust into her mouth, unable to hold back as she sucks me deeper and deeper. “Shit, Scar?—”

She peers up at me through heavy-lidded eyes. “You like that?”

God, if I thought I was done for before, I was so very wrong. “You know I love your mouth on my cock.”

Her sucking intensifies, her cheeks hollowing as she brings me closer and closer to the edge. With a groan, I pull her off my cock, unable to hold back any longer.

“Condom,” I pant, pointing to my jeans wadded up on the floor. “I need to be inside you.”

She smirks, jumping off the bed to grab the foil, her ass swaying with newfound confidence. I can't believe this is the same shy Scarlett who is tearing the wrapper with her teeth and rolling it down my length, her eyes never leaving mine.

I flip her over so she’s beneath me, positioning the tip of my cock at her entrance. Scarlett's body is practically vibrating with excitement as she looks up at me, her eyes filled with desire.

“Are you sure about this?” I ask, resting my weight on trembling arms.

“God, yes,” she gasps, wrapping her legs around my waist and pulling me closer. “Shut up and fuck me.”

I capture her lips in a fierce kiss, one hand on her thigh as I slowly push into her. Her walls squeeze around me, impossibly tight and scorching hot. She’s a perfect fit—like she was made for me—too damn perfect for my sanity to handle. “Fuck, Scar. You feel so good.”

With each thrust, I go deeper and deeper until I’m buried balls-deep. She moans against my lips, her nails digging into my back.

I pause for a moment to let her adjust to my size before slowly pulling out and thrusting back in. Scarlett's moans become louder as I find a rhythm that has her panting. She urges me on, matching each thrust, grinding and building the tension as we move together, our bodies slick with sweat.

“Harder,” she breathes, her hands gripping my shoulders tightly.

With a growl, I pick up the pace, pounding into her harder and faster. Her pussy flutters, drawing me up and into her core. I’m reaching the edge, and Scarlett is close, too.

“Do you want to come?” I ask through gritted teeth.

“Yes, Jett. Yes, fuck yes, harder!” she cries, her back bowing off the mattress.

“Say my name again,” I growl against her ear, my thrusts growing erratic as I teeter on the edge.

She moans my name like it’s a magic word—I pick up the pace, my thrusts erratic as I pound into her wet heat. She whimpers, clenching around my cock.

“That's it, baby, come for me.”

Her orgasm hits first, her body rigid. She cries out my name, a strangled cry, her walls clenching, milking my cock. The fit is so tight that I lose control, my release shooting deep inside the condom.

We collapse onto the bed, both of us panting and spent. “Holy shit,” I pant, rolling onto my back.

Scarlett rests her head on my chest and I cradle her, burying my face in her hair.

I let myself imagine a future I can almost touch—one where we're together, no more hiding, no more lonely nights on tour.

“I want this, Scar. You and me, always.” The words spill out, raw and honest. I've never been so sure of anything in my life. “No more secrets, no more stolen moments.”

Her fingers trace idle patterns on my chest as she tilts her head to meet my gaze. Those soulful eyes search mine, hope warring with uncertainty.

“You mean that? Even with...”

She trails off, but I know who she means.