Bittersweet (Redemption #3) - Jessica Prince Page 0,51
you spend more time with them than you do here.”
His arms released me as he let out a heavy sigh and collapsed back onto his bed. I crawled over him, straddling his sides and resting my behind on his thighs as I poked at his chest. “Talk to me. Something’s obviously bothering you, and I want to know what it is,” I said, repeating his earlier words back to him.
I let out a little yelp when he moved fast, flipping me to my back. He propped up on one elbow, hovering over me and brushing the hair off my face. “I haven’t brought you here before because I don’t want you to meet them.”
A sharp, piercing pain like I’d just had a knife shoved into my chest shot through me. I pulled a breath in through my nose and worked to beat back the burn behind my eyes as I pushed at his shoulders. “Get off,” I muttered. “I want to go home.”
He grabbed my wrists and pinned them to the mattress on either side of my head. “Shane, stop. Listen to my words. I didn’t say I don’t want them to meet you. I said I don’t want you to meet them. If there’s anyone alive that I’m embarrassed of, it’s them. I love you so much it sometimes hurts to breathe, so please, please, baby, don’t think for a second I’m ashamed of you,” he pleaded, desperation filling his eyes. “You’re everything to me. I can’t lose you. Not now. Not ever. You’re it for me, sunshine.”
“Why are you ashamed of your parents?” I asked in a watery whisper, emotion coating my throat and making it thick.
“I don’t wanna talk about them right now,” he stated, leaning in close enough to run his nose along the side of mine. “Right now I can think of about a million other things I want to do to you, and none of them require talking.”
He released my wrists so he could slip one of his hands beneath the hem of my shirt, keeping his touch featherlight on my belly as his lips moved down to my neck. I let out a stuttered breath. I was still sore, but that didn’t stop the heat from pooling between my thighs or my core pulsating as he sucked and licked my neck and slowly, slowly, slid his fingers toward my breast.
I opened my mouth, prepared to beg when a throat cleared from across the room, startling a shriek from deep inside my chest.
“Jesus Christ!” Jensen barked, grabbing the covers and whipping them up to cover both of us as he rolled, hiding me behind his back. “Why the fuck didn’t you knock? You can’t just barge into my room whenever the hell you want.”
I looked over his shoulder and saw a woman standing in the now-opened doorway. She was put together in a way you usually didn’t see around our little town. Her long hair hung stick straight just past her shoulders, the blonde a little too brassy to be her natural color. Her long-sleeved vibrant red wrap dress was pressed to perfection and clung to her body, which looked really underweight, dipping down into a V so low in the front her cleavage was on full display. Her breasts didn’t match her frame at all, leading me to believe they were fake, and I could tell by looking at her artfully made-up face she was probably in her early forties, but had enough Botox pumped into her in an attempt to shove that age down.
She didn’t look like she belonged in a tiny little biker town in the mountains. She looked like she belonged in a big city like New York, going out to restaurants where you spent a hundred dollars on an appetizer the size of a golf ball.
“And what have I told you about bringing your little sluts into my house?”
Oh my God! That was his mother! Mortification made my neck and chest flush a deep, unnatural red.
I’d just been caught in Jensen’s bed by his own mother after we’d had sex. And she’d called me a slut! I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me whole.
“Don’t call her that!” he snapped viciously, making his mom’s eyes widen in surprise. “You aren’t supposed to be here right now. Isn’t this usually the time you’re hooking up with your tennis pro or massage therapist or something?”
Her eyes narrowed, and for a brief moment I thought I saw disdain behind them,