Keeping Jahleel (Loving All Wrong #1.5) (8 page)

Chad stood there watching with his hands in his pockets. Watching unfazed like he was at the goddamn cinema.

“It’s like you’re tryin’ to fuckin’ repay me for everything I’ve ever done to you!!” Jahleel barked at me. “First you drive me crazy everyfuckingday with your nagging to push me away. And now you do this? Again? With my fuckin’ ring on your finger?!”

Keeping his hands to himself, Chad approached Jahleel cautiously as one would a cornered animal, then leaned forward and whispered something very lengthy and inaudible to him.

When Chad drew back and shook his head apologetically, Jahleel replied in an angry whisper, then Chad whispered back.

They were whisper warring.

What’s with the damn whispering?

“She’s not lying, brother.” I caught only that much the last time Chad whispered to Jahleel. But knowing Chad, he probably meant for me to hear that.

Jahleel glanced over Chad’s shoulder to a trembling, heart-thudding me, and made a disappointed shake of his head. “Get out.”

Chad stepped back. “You can’t kick me out of my own office.”

Jahleel arched a brow. “It’s mine, too.”

“
Now
you give a shit about our clubs?”

“Get. the fuck.
out
, Chad.”

With a shrug, Chad started towards the door. “Okay. But now that you
do
give a shit, you’ll be replacing that desk you broke.”

Chad left, closing the door behind him, shutting me in with a seriously cheesed-off Jahleel.

“This gonna be a habit of yours?” he asked. “Every time we have a disagreement you gonna run to my best friend? Are you setting me up to fuckin’ murder him or something? Because I will, Sassy. Irrespective of our friendship and business relationship, I
will
kill him. To keep you.”

Tears burned my eyeballs. He was hurting. And his hurt was hurting me. “We didn’t do anything. I swear to you, JK. We were just talking about Alina and—”

“I love you, Saskia,” he confessed, moving towards me, his expression a twisted combination of agony, disheartenment, and plea. “If you need me to say it more often, I will. I’ll say it, okay? But this”—he waved a hand around the room, indicating what he just walked in on—”I can’t handle it. I owned a heart, but you have it now, take care of it.
Please
.”

“I’m sorry—”

He shut me up.

His tongue was in my mouth shutting me the hell up.

Palms pressed up against his chest, I kissed him back with equal fervor, giving back as he gave it.

I’ve missed this man. It had been ten days since our reluctantly agreed upon break, and I’d been well prepared to go banging on his door at the break of dawn. Because it was arduous keeping away from the man I love more than anything else in this world for two whole weeks. Hard as shite. And I had to fight myself from calling him.

But no worries. He was here. He came. Wish it was under better circumstances, but that was irrelevant. Fact was, he was here. And he still loved me in spite of my cock-up just now.

Jahleel smoothed his palms over my abs, moving up to tug the knot of my tie-front blouse. It fell open. Unceremoniously yanking down my bra, he sucked a nipple into his hot, eager mouth.

He was ravishing me with a need I had no problem meeting. I understood. He missed me, like I missed him. So he needed me, just as I needed him. Right now.

Sliding my hands from his chest right down to his pelvis, I fumbled with his belt buckle, quickly undoing the button and zipper of his jeans.

Shoving his pants and boxers down his hips to free him, I grasped him and trailed my index finger through the little slit on his head. Collecting the pre-cum it sprouted, I brought my finger to my mouth and sucked it off. Jahleel growled at this.

Cock hard and ready. Wanting in.

As I wrapped my fingers around him and began stroking gently, he flexed forward into my fist, letting out a throaty, “Only your touch, Sassy…” before moving his mouth to my neck, sucking on my skin while I pumped him.

I could flood the whole room with how wet I was. I’ve longed for this, this beautiful thing in my hand, that proposed to be mine and mine alone.

Slapping my hand away, Jahleel reached under my skirt, hooked his thumb in the crotch of my knickers and ripped it clean off.

Impatient. Starving. Rabid.

Sliding his fingers over my sopping folds, he groaned something unintelligible before thrusting two inside, forcing me to swallow a deep moan.

But just as soon as his fingers went in, they were sliding out as Jahleel gripped the back of my thighs and lifted me up against the glass. My legs reflexively locked around him, hands gripping his shoulders.

Letting go with one hand, he positioned his dick at my entrance, his golden gaze burning through me. That look on his face, I knew it well now. That look meant this fuck was going to be fast, hard, and quick.

Yeah, his wide head was tearing me open with a force, going deep, bucking.

A cry tore up my throat. “Argghhhhhgod, JK!”

Then it was on.

Jahleel style.

He fucked me upside the one-way glass. People below oblivious to what was taking place above their heads. Two people in love racing each other to a planet with no air supply, which was bound to suck away our sanity and energy and fucking souls.

I loved this man. With every part of me. Every inch. Every meter. Every fiber.

And that’s why I came.

Not because he was oh so good at fucking, but because
I loved him
. Loved him hard. So I came hard. Digging my fingernails into his shoulders, whispering how much I loved him to the ends of the earth.

He grunted and groaned, protracting my orgasm, sucking me dry. Then he plunged into me harder, and even harder, until he came with a violent force, exploding inside me. Head tossed back, veins bulging in his neck, glistening with sweat.

We remained like that for a while, catching our breaths, waiting for our heartbeats to settle down from that great rush, the glass vibrating against my back with the baseline of Jhene Aiko’s
Stay Ready
.

Releasing me, Jahleel allowed me to slide down the glass, back to my now weakened, wobbly feet.

I fixed my clothes, wishing we were somewhere else where we could just roll over and cuddle each other to sleep.

Once Jahleel was done doing up his jeans, he moved in to me, pressing me up against the glass. His face was scruffy again. He rebelliously refused to shave whenever we were at war. Too bad he didn’t know that being unshaved didn’t make him any less desirable. So he wasn’t punishing anyone. There was no getting out of being as hot as he was—unless he took a bath in a tub of acid, of course.

Dropping his forehead to mine, he whispered, “Promise me something.”

“Anything,” I said in a rush, eager to make up for both earlier and our nonsense break.

“Don’t ever leave me again,” he said. “Not even if I ask you to. Not even if I’m a complete asshole, sayin’ mean things or shouting at you. Don’t leave. At all. Don’t ever let me push you out of my life, assuming that’s what I want. That’ll never be what I want. Always stay, no matter what, because
that’s
what I need.”

“Okay,” I whispered back, nodding. “I promise.”

“Can you leave here now?”

“Yeah. I’ll just have to talk with Ben and John about Alina—”

“Do it. Then come home with me.”

“Okay.”

A
fter letting all the important people know I was leaving early, I met up with Jahleel. He was leaning against a wall, one leg propped up, arms crossed, watching with something akin to pride as the hot pack, his dancers, clashed with another crew on the floor, crowd divided into two halves, cheering on.

Granted, his dancers had more cheerleaders than the other crew. I mean, not only were they extremely talented, they were all smoking hot. Hence my nicknaming them the hot pack. Any single, horny girl would choose that crew.

“Ready?” he asked, uncrossing his arms.

When I nodded and grinned like a goon, he wrapped his arm around my waist and started for the exit.

Once again, Lion interrupted. “You two might wanna hang on a minute longer.”

“What, why?” Jahleel asked with zero patience.

“Word got out you were throwin’ a party here, and outside the club right now is mayhem.”

“Fans,” I muttered.

Jahleel sighed.

“Know you’re not gonna like this, JK, but at this rate, you need your own security. I sent for one from your—from Chad’s company.” Lion checked his watch. “Should be here in ‘bout ten minutes. Since you, Kia, has set John & Ben on Alina, Thomas alone can’t cut it for both of you.”

Jahleel was surprisingly acceptable of the circumstances. “That bad?”

Lion crooked a finger at us and walked off. We followed him to the exit where one of the club guards opened the door just a crack for us to see outside. The thick stream of fans got a mere glimpse of us and immediately began screaming their faces off. It was like frigging LA out there.

Almost all the women wore red ball-caps which had
JK’s Babe
emblazoned on the front.

The bloody hell?

We popped our heads back inside and the guards shut the door.

“Hang on,” I said, vibrating with irritation. “A few weeks ago they were all for JK
and
Saskia. Now they’re wearing
JK’s Babe
ball caps? Where’s the respect for me?”

Jahleel chuckled, but I wasn’t amused in the least. No one was JK’s babe but me. The fact that these people even knew to make the caps in his favorite color, red…

Lion shrugged. “Dunno, Kia. Forgot to tell you those caps are hot shit in LA right now. Questioned a fan about it, said she bought it on
Ebay
from someone claimin’ to be JK’s brother. But I’ve got someone lookin’ further into it. “

By this time, Jahleel was flat-out laughing. Doubling forward and resting his hands on his knees as he cachinnated. How on earth did he find it even remotely funny that our engagement was being neglected altogether?

Balling my fist, I landed a solid punch to his impenetrable shoulder for laughing.

“Ah. Sorry,” he said, coughing out another rumble as he straightened up. “But this famous/fans thing is so ridiculous, I can’t even take it serious anymore.”

“Well, it’s
serious
, JK,” Lion told him, voice flat and even. “Fans can be real fuckin’ psychos.”

“Good thing you got me a bodyguard then, huh?” Jahleel responded. “Lemme know when I can leave—seeing I’ve got no control over my life anymore.” He said the words, but I couldn’t tell if he was being serious, sarcastic, bitter, or concealing his irritation with the whole situation just to appease me. Turning to me, he said in a mock British accent, “Fancy a dance, love?”

Right. The last guess: he was hiding his irritation. Covering it up with facetiousness. Accepting it all for
me
.

Forcing a smile, I nodded, and he slung an arm around my neck rude-boy style, moving out to the dance floor.

We stole the middle of the floor just as Bruno Mars’
Just the Way You Are
began playing. Jahleel gave me his famous crooked grin and tugged me into him, crushing his lips to mine right there in front of everyone.

Surprised by the attack, I pressed a hand to his chest, but only to gain balance so I could kiss him back, as his arm was still hooked around my neck, making me feel like a biker’s Old Lady.

Breaking the kiss, he stared down at me for a long moment, his golden eyes something fierce in the dark. Then he mouthed, “
You’re amazing,
” before unhooking his arm from around me, and in one smooth flow, caught me with his other hand and reeled me out, my hair whipping around, then he pulled me back in.

A happy giggle bubbled from me at the sudden movement.

He started dancing, and I was no longer in control of my feet. He moved for both of us. Hands on my waist, guiding me. Of course, he knew I couldn’t dance, so he was doing me a huge favor.

The song bled into another, and then another, and we danced and danced. Me grinning like an idiot the whole way through. Music blaring, people moving, dancing, yet I saw only one person. Jahleel. For me, no one else was in the room but us. I loved him so much.