Page 88 of Bourbon Kingdom
“Oh, my God!” I shouted as I pushed Jett away. “I can’t believe you said that.”
Laughing a little too much for my liking, Jett held on to his stomach and tried to speak through the tears forming in his eyes. I’ve never seen him so loose before in my life, and even though it was at my expense, I still loved it. It was moments like this, when he dropped his control and had some fun, that I craved. Don’t get me wrong, I demanded the dominant man who could make me scream his name in seconds, but I also craved this real man, this man with feelings and emotions.
“You should have seen the look on your face,” Jett said while pointing at me. “Oh, that was fucking priceless.”
“If I would have known bodily fluids were in play, I would have opened up with ‘Jett just blew up the port-a-potty and gave himself a ten out of ten on the shit scale.’”
“Too slow, gorgeous,” he continued to laugh.
“Laugh it up, pretty boy. Have fun holding onto a stiff body tonight.”
“I will enjoy every second of it,” Jett said, while grabbing my hand and bringing it to his lips.
“Ugh, that wasn’t fair,” I complained.
“How so?”
“Because I lost,” I whined, making him laugh again.
“Well, if you’re a good girl today, maybe I will let you drive the Aston, but I make no promises.”
“And what qualifies me as a good girl?” I asked with a suspicious tone. The man knew exactly what he was doing.
Shrugging his shoulders, he led us over to a table where we would be testing the different bowls of gumbo, and said, “I don’t know. Maybe a kiss here and there; if your hand so happens to land on my crotch, then I wouldn’t be opposed to something like that either.”
“You’re incorrigible, you know that? I’m not about to grab your crotch in public.”
“Then the port-a-potty? It seemed like you were having some kind of fantasy about it back at Diego’s place.”
“Eck, don’t be disgusting, that was not a fantasy and no, I won’t be kissing you. Nice try though. Remember, I’m still mad at you.”
“That’s right,” he smirked, as he pulled out my seat for me and helped me into my chair. “How much longer are you going to be mad at me again?”
“As long as I want,” I replied like a child, while crossing my arms over my chest, making my cleavage stand out.
Jett’s lingering gaze on my chest caused a slow throb to grow at the juncture of my thighs. Slowly, I watched him lick his lips and run his eyes up my chest until he was staring into my eyes. His heated gaze ate me alive and I wasn’t sure if I would make it through the contest without jumping his bones in front of everyone at the festival. If the mayor thought he was uncomfortable with all of the sharting talk, then he was in for a rude awakening, because me riding Jett like a mechanical bull in front of the gathering crowd, tits flopping about, was going to absolutely mortify him.
“Mr. Colby?” A voice from the side pulled us out of our heated ogling.
With a lazy smile on his face, Jett retreated from our stand down and greeted the man trying to get our attention.
My mind didn’t follow anything they were saying, as visions of Jett in the Bourbon Room overtook my every last thought. Me, bent over in the bathroom, staring at myself in the mirror as he ate me out from underneath, me strapped to the beam, hanging upside down, me on the velvet table, being plunged by Jett until I couldn’t take it anymore.
Oh my fuck was I randy and more than willing to be taken by the Demonic Devil himself, as I’d so properly named him.
I couldn’t though; I couldn’t fall into the same old pattern. I had to stay strong. I would stay strong.
At least, that’s what I tried convincing myself.
“Thank you,” Jett said, as he sat down next to me. “Did you hear any of that?”
“No,” I said sheepishly.
“I didn’t think so, I could practically feel your tongue licking the zipper of my pants.”
“Nuh-uh,” I defended myself so eloquently.
“Little one, you act as if I can’t feel your gaze on me, as if I can’t read what’s going on in that pretty little mind of yours.”
