One Night With Jolie

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Jolie’s laugh rings out from the kitchen, and my own lips twitch in response. Mariannes voice follows, and I drop my keys onto the side with a clink.

She’s stayed, like she said she would.

I’d taken Imogen to her ballet class, and I don’t think I’ve ever driven so fast to get back to the addiction that was Jolie Summers. The thought of spending the whole day with her after confessing how I feel about her was Christmas morning.

Striding into the kitchen, Marianne and Jolie stop talking, and Jolie flushes beneath my gaze, her smile lighting up the entire face. I don’t know what issues she’s got, but I don’t care. I just want her, whatever she is. I’m as perplexed as she is about the whole situation, but the sight of her sipping a cup of tea at my kitchen counter was enough to make my soul yearn for her.

Her hazel eyes sparkle as I near her, and I hope I make her feel as giddy as she makes me.

“I’m off, Jax,” announces Marianne, unhooking her apron from behind her back. “There’s lamb roasting on a bed of vegetables in the oven, Miss Jolie said she would take care of it when it’s ready to come out.”

Mariannes grins at Jolie, pointing a finger at her. “Not a minute too soon, remember what I told you about lamb—”

“I know, I won’t let it burn. Promise,” Jolie smiles, her eyes widening as she nods.

Marianne winks at me, and I hover beside Jolie, desperate to touch her but not wanting to invade her space. Jolie isn’t like other women in the sense that she has a strong presence—you can’t just grab this chick and throw her up against the wall and kiss her, no matter how much you want to. You need permission, and I intend to get it.

“Bye Marianne, thanks again. See you next week,” I call out as Marianne waves, pulling her thick cardigan around her shoulders on her way out.

Her footsteps echo along the hallway until I can no longer hear them, and then it’s just us.

“Tea?” I ask as Jolie cocks her head to the side.

“Yes please,” she says shyly, her eyes half closing as she yawns. “Sorry, I’m so tired. Was Imogen okay?”

I drop two teabags into fresh mugs, turning to smile at her over my shoulder.

“Yeah, she loves it there. She does an annual show, you should come and see her dance. She’s amazing on stage.”

Bold, Cohen.

I turn back to the task at hand, cursing as the water splashed onto my fingers as I poured it.

What the fuck is wrong with me? I can’t even pour fucking tea.

“Are you alright?” Jolie asks with concern, as I shrug my shoulders with a grin.

“I’m alright.”

“Something on your mind?”

I strain the tea bags, adding a splash of milk to each cup before hesitating, and adding some more.

“Always got stuff on my mind. What about you?” I say, placing a mug in front of her.

Her skin is glowing, and despite not having a scrap of makeup on I’m mesmerised.

“I keep thinking about work,” she confesses, pouting her lips together to blow the steam of the tea in my direction. Her perfectly shaped brows furrow as she takes a tentative sip, wincing at the heat. “I need to focus on it but honestly, I’m really drained.”

It’s my turn to frown now, especially when she yawns again.

“All the books and websites I’ve read say I should be getting my energy back up now, you know, now the placenta has formed?” Jolie continues, her fingers lacing together around the mug. “But I don’t feel much better.”

“So we’ll ask a doctor,” I say, as she nods.

“Maybe. But I don’t want them to look at me like a first time mum that hasn’t got a clue what she’s doing,” she says hastily.

Anger twists in my stomach at the thought of someone making her feel that way, and I reach out to her, my hand taking hers into mine. “You’re doing great. Doctors aren’t there to judge how well you’re doing as a pregnant woman, Jolie, they’re there to help guide you through the changes mentally and physically.”

Jolie is staring at me again, and her fingers wrap around mine as she nods, dropping her gaze.

“I’ll make an appointment,” she whispers, and her phone vibrates from beside her, showing that it’s Rad calling her.

Instantly I’m pissed, but Jolie shoots me an apologetic look before cancelling the call, her fingers swiping away at the screen as she stares down at it.

Rad is going to be a problem, but not one I’m arsed about. But if me and Jolie are gonna do this—he needs to back the fuck up.

“What’s up with Rad?”

“He just wants to know if I’m okay,” Jolie sighs, dropping the phone back onto the counter. She stretches, revealing the swell of her stomach as she reaches upwards, my pulse quickening at the sight of her.

“You told him you’re fine, I assume?” I say, walking around the counter so that I’m standing beside her.

Jolie laughs, and I can’t help but smile like the smug bastard I am. She’s sat here with me, carrying my baby, whilst her ex is texting her.

It brings out all kinds of emotions.

“I should probably go home and shower, brush my teeth and change,” Jolie declares, sliding off the stool. I catch her hand, and her eyes flicker towards me cautiously.

“Wanna do that here?” I ask huskily, my fingers moving her honey coloured hair away from the soft skin of her neck.

She allows her eyes to close as my fingers trail down her throat, my other hand sliding around her waist. Being this close to her makes me feel like I’m superhuman, the reaction to my touch making me feel mighty and powerful. I’m a little thrown by the sparks that zip through my fingers as I touch her, the scent of faint vanilla and citrus teasing my senses as I lower my lips to her forehead.

To my surprise she moves her face to mine, her lips stealing my mouth away from her neck, her tongue darting into my mouth as she groans.

This is a different kind of energy.

My stomach explodes with fireworks, my body moulding against hers as our mouths move in perfect sync, clothes falling to the floor where we stand. I don’t even look at her body, I’m too drunk on her mouth which holds me captive, her little moans commanding my fingers to move against her wet underwear.

I love that she gets like this for me.

I can’t fuck her standing up, as much as I want to, she needs comfort. The sofa it is then.

Swiping away dolls and cushions, we fall onto the sofa, her body dominating the position as she straddles me, allowing me the perfect view.

Something about a woman’s naked form is beautiful anyway, all curves and soft spots, heavy breasts and silky hair. But Jolie is something else.

She lifts herself up, her fingers guiding me into her as she lets out a satisfied gasp, her nipples dragging across my lips before I can take a bite, her hips lowering her down so she’s attacking my mouth again with hers. Her tight walls clasp me inside of her like a vice, and I can’t help but grip her hips, trying to slow her down.

“Yes, Jax,” Jolie moans, rocking her hips against me in some kind of voodoo fashion. I’m not kidding, this woman is riding the fuck out of me, and she’s barely moving.

Another thrust of her hips, and I’m hissing out her name, watching as she strokes her nipples, moving like a goddess. I bury my face in her neck, and thrust upwards as she cries out, allowing me to control her just for a few moments. I’m slamming her hips down onto me as she sinks her teeth into my shoulder, her hand slipping around to cup my balls.

“Oh, fuck,” I mutter as she strokes the boys, her nails dragging across them as I try to hold my shit together.

She’s back in control now, and I’m powerless to fight this. I’m entranced by her movements, the way her lips move as she gasps, little cries of pleasure leaving her body as I reach down and drag my finger over her clit. Her head rolls forward and she gives me this lazy smile, and I apply a little more pressure to her intimate spot, as she continues to massage my dick with her tightness.

“Are you okay?” I murmur in between kisses, and it’s then that I feel her shiver, the walls around my dick holding it hostage as she unfolds around me, the feverish kisses between us now through the fucking roof.

“Jax, Jesus, I’m—”

She doesn’t need to finish because I’m losing it too, my eyes scrunching shut as I empty myself into her, my fingers laced with her hands as she slows down, rocking gently against me. Our bodies are slick with sweat, yet I hold her close to me, my lips kissing her cheeks as I search for her mouth.

The kissing is softer now, but it’s passionate, her arms are around my neck, and as I sit forward, she wraps her legs around my waist, keeping me deep inside of her.

“Okay, now we need a shower,” I laugh against her, as she seeks my mouth out again.

“God, Jax, I don’t know if I can deal with the image of you in the shower,” Jolie confesses, her teeth tugging her lower lip into her mouth.

“Tough,” I smirk, kissing her again. “Because I’m taking you in with me.”

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