“You want me to fuck you on this Toyota, girlfriend?” I tease.
She nods, biting her lip. “It’s a classic.”
I let out a low chuckle as I move my hands down to her jeans. Popping the button and slipping them off her impossibly long legs, I quip, “You’re a classic.”
She’s wearing the same bright red boy shorts that tortured my dreams for weeks after she flashed me. I let out a low growl, sliding her panties off and slipping them into my pocket. I’m starting a collection.
Jessie’s naked and spread out on the hood of a car. I’ve never seen anything so fucking sexy in my life. My dick is suffocating in my pants, desperate for a deep breath of Jessie’s pussy. My cock can wait. My birthday girl’s going to get hers first.
I lean forward and dive into her wet pussy like a man on fire, my mouth claiming her clit without warning or mercy. She fists my hair, tugging at me when I fill her with two fingers. She comes apart fast and hard, alternating between pants and moans.
“You. Inside me. Now,” she demands.
“Yes, girlfriend.”
Her syrupy laugh coats me with a warm, thick desire. I pull her off the hood and flip her onto her stomach. The car is the perfect height. I grab my wallet out of my back pocket before letting my pants fall to the ground. I whip it open, only to realize I used my spare condom when we fucked in the back seat of my car last week.
“Fuck,” I mutter in utter frustration.
Her body still sprawled out on the hood, tempting ass in the air, Jessie turns her face to me. “What’s wrong?”
“No condom.”
A wicked twinkle dances across her hazel eyes. “I’m on the pill.”
I cock my head to the side. “You sure?”
Jessie nods. “Take me, Big Man.”
Before she finishes, I’m balls-deep inside her, aching for the connection. I brace myself on the hood, a palm on either side of her body, caging her in. I stay buried inside her, kissing her shoulder blade before slowly pulling out. Jessie whimpers under me, desperate for a faster pace, but I’m going to take my time with her.
I kiss her neck, her back, her shoulder, as I fuck her slow.
“Devin, please,” she begs.
“Hmm?” I feign ignorance.
“Faster. Harder.”
A smile slides across my face. I lean back and take a tight grip on her slender hips. I pound into her with every punishing thrust.
“Oh God, yes,” she moans.
I take her hard, my sweet little hummingbird begging me for more until she shudders with pleasure underneath me. I slow my pace, debating coming inside her. I want to come inside of her. Desperately. But I shouldn’t. The pill is only effective if she’s using it right. I’m trusting her not to have my kid. My heart surges at the idea of my baby inside her. I want her to have my kids. Not now, but some day. My brain is still trying to make sense of my heart’s declaration when my cock gives up waiting and makes the decision on its own. I come inside Jessie, pleasure racking my body while my heart drowns in a future I’m scared to hope for.
After owning my body on the hood of some complete stranger’s car, Devin insisted I come home with him. He wanted to cook me dinner, claiming it was the boyfriend thing to do. I’m supposed to be at a Freshman mixer, but I didn’t fight very hard when Devin suggested it. Okay, I didn’t fight him at all. A quiet, private dinner with Devin was the perfect way to spend the rest of my birthday. Plus, the mind-blowing, thigh-quivering, soul-shattering sex isn’t bad either.
I go limp and collapse, Devin’s massive body pressing me down into his bed with a delicious pressure. My arms are pinned between us and I couldn’t move if my life depended on it. Good thing I wouldn’t want to move even if my life depended on it. This must be how swaddled babies feel, tucked in warm security and love. Devin’s breath is fast and ragged in my ear. I could almost swear the satisfied three-syllable grunt he lets out is his way of saying I love you. I close my eyes and soak in the feel of his warm body and his citrus scent.
He places a soft kiss on my collarbone, a sweet reminder that while he just fucked me like an animal, he’s a softie underneath all those tattoos and scowls. I hum at the tingle it shoots straight to my heart.
“Am I crushing you?” he asks, lifting himself up onto his elbow.
I snake my arms around his waist. “In the best way.”
He chuckles, kisses my nose and heads to the bathroom. I scoot up the bed, half reclining in a massive pile of pillows. The rest of his tiny apartment is clean and minimalist. What else was I expecting from Mr. OCD? But his bedroom is a little sanctuary. A soft pillow oasis. His apartment is just like him, sharp edges and hard lines on the outside, with a warm and cozy center.
He struts back from the bathroom, naked, and flops down on his stomach next to me. His head is in my lap and he grips my ribs, thumbing the exposed skin at the side of my breast.
I run one hand through his thick black hair and rub long strokes up and down his back with the other. His contented sigh lets me know he’s appreciative. I don’t know what I like more, fighting with him, having sex with him, or this. The quiet moment stretches out and we’re both content to just be. It’s one of the rare times that I’m living in the moment instead of thinking about what’s next.
I trace my fingers over his shoulder blade and still at the long, thick scar there. I’ve never noticed it before. I probe the white skin with gentle care. It’s long since healed.
“My Pops clipped me.” Devin’s voice turns cold and his body tenses against me.
I pause, my palm covering the old wound. “Clipped you? With what?”
“Vodka bottle.”
I pull him tighter against me, a possessive protectiveness surging through me. “Where was your mom?” I bite out, seething. Devin shrugs with his head in my lap, his breathing slow and even.
“Gone.”
“Gone?” I ask, but don’t give him time to answer. “And she left you with a violent drunk?” I’d like to get my hands on that guy.
Devin pulls back, then, rolling to his side, he props his head up on his hand and peers up at me. “That violent drunk was—is—my father.”
“And an asshole.” I blow an angry breath out through my nose and cross my arms.
“No argument here. Sometimes shitty things happen to good people. That’s life.” He doesn’t sound bitter. He sounds indifferent, and somehow his acceptance is more heart-wrenching.
He peels the sheet down and trails kisses from my side to my belly button. I grab a fistful of his hair with a moan when he flicks my piercing with that dangerous tongue. I’m drowning in lust.
“I bet you still wish on shooting stars,” he teases.
“And you don’t?”
He looks up, those dark eyes consuming me. I pull in a ragged breath.
“I gave up wishing for shit a long time ago. You want something, you fight for it.” In one swift move he seals his lips on mine, our tongues dipping and swirling. He cups my face in a firm but comforting hold. Devin’s kiss is everything.
A confession. A claim. A promise.
I drink it in, wishing desperately to make this moment last forever.
He rolls us over, hugging me to his chest. “Go to sleep,” he commands. And within minutes I do. Trapped in Devin’s arms, I never want to escape.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Devin
My alarm goes off at six, as usual. This time, I hit Snooze and pull Jessie in against me. She’s a million degrees, her hot naked body burning into mine. She wiggles her ass against my morning wood and I growl into her sunshine hair.
“Morning, Big Man.” Her sleepy voice is sexy as hell.
I cop a feel when Jessie stretches her long, curvy body. She giggles and slaps my hand away. “No time. I’m gonna grab a quick shower. I reek of sex.”
I nod. She grabs a pillow and smacks me on the hip. “Go make coffee.”
She’s in the bathroom with the door closed before I can object. We fuc
ked three times yesterday and I’m ready for round four. I sit on the edge of the bed and listen to her loud, off-key singing. I chuckle, picturing her using a shampoo bottle as a microphone. I’m eager to jump into that shower with her, but the doorknob won’t budge.
“Naughty boy,” she chides behind the locked door. I pound on it with a groan. “Coooooffeeeee!” Giving up, I get dressed and stomp to the kitchen as instructed.
I’m on my second cup of coffee, sitting at my two-person dining room table, when the unmistakable sound of a Jessie tornado echoes from the bedroom. She’s talking to herself now, rambling off a long list of things that she’s supposed to do today like she’ll forget if she doesn’t repeat her schedule out loud.
She struts into the living room in her jeans from last night and one of my shop T-shirts tied in a knot at her side. It’s cute as fuck. I watch her storm into the kitchen, opening and closing every cabinet until she finds a mug instead of asking me where they are.
“Coffee cup,” she mumbles to herself. “Spoon. Sugar. Milk.” She names each item she’s looking for, buzzing around my kitchen in a blur of unbridled energy. Finally satisfied, she slips around the counter and heads to the table.
The mug is perched at her lips and her butt almost hits the chair beside me before she shoots up. “Eggs,” she says. She skirts by me, her coffee forgotten on the table as she restarts her busy fussing in the kitchen. I stalk up behind her, lift her up and carry her to the table. I settle her into my lap, locking her against me despite her squirming.
“I was going to make breakfast,” she whines.
I shake my head, handing her the coffee mug.
“Sit still and drink your coffee.” She crosses her arms and glares at me. I let out a long sigh. “Just take a breath. I want five minutes of peace to enjoy my first morning with my girlfriend.” I kiss her cheek and nuzzle against her neck until she finally relents.
“Fine. Five minutes.” She relaxes into me and we drink our coffee together in blissful silence. “This is nice.” I grunt in acknowledgment.
She lets out a long, happy sigh, then downs her coffee and pops up with the indomitable spirit of the first daisy in spring. She steps between my thighs, kicking my knees out wider. One hand on her hip and the other palm up, right in front of my face, she demands, “Now, give me my panties back. I’ve got places to be.”
I keep my eyes locked on her, take a slow sip of coffee and smirk. “No.”
Both hands are on her hips now. “Yes,” she says, her tone stern.
“No.”
“Yes!” She narrows her eyes and purses her lips in mock indignation.
I set down my coffee and interlock my fingers behind my head. I cock an eyebrow and repeat, “No.”
She crosses her arms, trying to maintain a frown while a playful grin emerges on those pink lips. “Why are you obsessed with the word no? It makes up half of your vocabulary.”
I wrap my arms around her and pull her down into my lap again. I take a deep breath, her usual sweet vanilla scent replaced by the smell of my soap and the lingering hint of sex. “Maybe I like making you scream yes.”
She slaps my chest with a soft chuckle. She drops her forehead to mine, shaking it. “You’re such an animal! I can’t believe I’m in love with you.”
Every muscle in my body tenses. I turn to a lump of cement. What the fuck did she just say? She lets out a gasp when my arms tighten around her.
“Holy shit. I said that out loud this time, didn’t I?” She leans back, shooting her hands up to her mouth and clamping down like she’s afraid of what else might come pouring out.
My heart’s raging in my chest, trying to break out. Break free. I lock my jaw and breathe quick, shallow breaths in and out through my nose.
“This time?” I ask, not easing the death grip I have on her body despite her trying to pull away.
“Don’t freak out.” She holds her hands up in surrender. “I know it’s too early to use the L-word. So, I say it in my head instead.”
My voice is sharp from the adrenaline surging through every inch of my body. “Since when?”
Jessie bites her bottom lip and looks away, staring at the empty wall over my shoulder. “Since…a while. Does it matter?”
I growl and tighten my arms around her.
“Urgh. Fine. Since our second date.” She tilts her head to the side and studies my face. “Although, I think I’ve been a little bit in love with you since that first kiss.”
Someone put those defibrillator paddles to my chest and yell Clear! My heart stops. No warning. It just up and stops beating. My arms drop to my sides and she stands. My head falls back against the chair and I stare up at the ceiling. My gaze goes blurry and I blink a dozen times. My brain reboots, restarting my heart, and I breathe again. I take it all in. She fucking loves me. I’m so happy that if she cut me, I’d bleed sunshine and rainbows. If I could bottle this feeling, it’d sell better than cocaine and Prozac combined. An amazed snort escapes my throat.
“Well?” she asks.
I snap my head up and I take her in. She’s standing a few feet away, arms crossed, foot tapping. I cock an eyebrow and stare at her, too. “Aren’t you going to say it back?”
“No.”
“Excuse me?” Her voice goes up about twelve octaves. Her arms drop to her sides at the same time as her mouth falls open. “I just told you I’m in love with you.”
“I heard.” I smile at her—a full, unabridged, kid-on-their-first-rollercoaster-excited smile.
“And you’re not going to say it back?” she asks, as if I just told her I was going to grow wings and fly to Mars.
“No.”
“I’m starting to understand why your name rhymes with devil!” I look down at the floor and laugh. This woman is unbelievable. Her false bravado begins to crack and her upper lip quivers. “So, you don’t love me?” I open my mouth to answer, but she holds up a finger. “If you say ‘No,’ so help me—”
“Wasn’t gonna.”
“So you do love me?”
“What do you think?” I smile at this beautiful tornado.
She glares at me. “I think you’re head over heels, Big Man.”
I scoot my chair back, prop my feet up on the table and recline as far as I can. We both glance at my bare feet, a few inches above my head. I wiggle my toes for added emphasis.
“Then just say it!” she screeches.
A devilish grin twists my lips. “No.”
“Why the hell not?” she asks on a long whine.
“You deserve better.”
She shakes her head, confused. I stand and reach out for her. She takes a step away, but I grab her wrist. I lean against the table, pulling her body up against mine. It’s just enough to make up the height difference between us so we’re eye to eye.
“You deserve more than some half-assed regurgitated you too. When I tell you that I love you—” I pause, letting her take in the words. “It’s going to be spontaneous and genuine. You’re going to know I’m not saying it to be nice or sweet or any reason other than in that moment I’m completely fucking shattered by how much I love you.”
I slip my hand into her hair and smash my lips to hers. I kiss her as hard as I did that first night. The night she fell in love with me. And I fell for her. I kiss her until she gives in, until she melts into me and we become one tangled mess. I kiss her until I don’t know where she starts and I end. She places her hand on my chest, her palm finding my heart, and it beats just for her.
She breaks the kiss. “Fine.” She pecks me on the mouth and pushes off my chest. With a hair toss, she adds, “But don’t take too long. You’ll give me a complex!”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Jessie
I loosen the kung-fu grip I have on my Marketing Principles project report, unraveling it to reread the red See me Professor Pfeffer scribbled across the top. I’m missing another dodgeball game to make it to his office hours, a fact that has guilt mingling with anxiety when I pic
ture Team Captain Maddy’s disappointed frown.
I knock on the door frame of Professor P.’s office. He looks up at me from a stack of papers and smiles. I take that as a good sign. He wouldn’t be smiling if he’s failing me, right?
“You wanted to see me?” I ask, still hoping there was some sort of mistake. Spending time with Devin, on top of all my other social obligations, hasn’t left much time for school. Still, I thought my report on the auto shop was damn good. I’ve increased their productivity by fifteen percent in the first month, and while business is still picking up, I’m confident in my prediction that within the next six months, new customers will more than make up for the cost of the infrastructure upgrades. But maybe I have no idea what I’m talking about, since I got the college equivalent of being called to the principal’s office.
Professor P. waves me in and gestures to the seat in front of his desk. “Yes, please have a seat.” He shuffles through open books and folders splayed across his desk. “Where did I put that packet?” he asks one of the stacks.
My knee bounces while I wait for him to tell me what the hell this meeting is about.
“Was there something wrong with my project paper?”
“Wrong?” The shuffling stops and my absent-minded professor looks up at me, confused. “Whatever would give you that idea?”
I hold up the report and point to the three bold exclamation points at the end of his See me.
“Oh, that.” He waves it away. “No. Your report was unique, ambitious and innovative. You’ll receive an A, of course.”
Okay, now I’m confused. “Then why—”
“Ah, here it is,” he exclaims. “What are your plans after graduation, Ms. Allen?”
My head is spinning and it takes a minute to understand his question, much less find an answer. “Jessie,” I say to buy time. “Everyone calls me Jessie.”
“Jessie.” Professor P. smiles. “What are your plans for the future?”
“Grad school, get an MBA and work for the family business,” I utter, like it’s my death sentence.
“Hmmm.” He ponders my answer. “What would you think about running a state program to revitalize small businesses instead?”
This is So Happening (So Far, So Good Book 2) Page 15
