He groans and his hand slides into my hair. “Molly…”
“Is this okay?” I peer up at him, my mouth a breath away from his straining cock.
“Fuck, yeah. I’m dying.”
Oh good. I’m still wounded from Steve’s comments about my BJ skills, and anxious about doing it wrong. Even though I really, really want to do it… I lick my lips, still hesitating, and Jax’s fingers tighten in my hair. Not in a gross “do this” way, but in a way that tells me he’s desperate and eager. He wants this. It encourages me.
I throw my worries out the window and go to town. I want this to be good for Jax, but I want to enjoy it too. I take my time, because I’m savoring it, although it might be torturous to Jax. But maybe that will make it better. I lick him all over, up and down and around, letting my tongue learn his unique shape and taste and texture. I look up at his face from time to time as I leisurely explore, reveling in his taut expression, his beautiful lips parted, his cheekbones flushed. I kiss and lick the place where his thigh joins his hip, one side, then the other, even nipping at the corded tendon of his thigh.
“Christ, Molly.” Now both hands are threaded into my hair, gentle on my head but compelling.
I smile. He wants this.
I want this too. So much. I want to show my appreciation for how good he makes me feel. I want to make him feel just as good. Better than good. I want to blow his mind. Ha.
I open my mouth and close my lips around the head of his cock while I curl my fingers around the base. He’s wet and slippery and my lips slide over firm flesh. He tastes delicious and feels incredible—thick, ridged, pulsing with desire. I take him deeper into my mouth, relaxing my throat. He’s big, so I’m not going to be able to take all of him, but I use my hand in concert with my lips. I swirl my tongue, I hum, I swallow when he hits the back of my throat.
“Jesus!” he gasps hoarsely.
Pleasure pours through me because I’m giving him pleasure. It’s so hot, so erotic. His hips are lifting like he wants to fuck my mouth and that makes my pussy wet, my inner muscles squeezing.
Teasing him, I lift my mouth off him and smile up at him, kissing the tip of his cock.
“Molly.” He groans, his fingers tightening in my hair. “Jesus, I’m close.”
“Good.” I go back down, bobbing my head, my lips a tight, wet ring around him.
His hips elevate again, following my rhythm, guttural noises failing from his mouth. I’m buzzing with arousal, heat rushing through my veins, my pussy hot and wet. It’s such a turn-on that I’m making him feel these things. Then he shouts, his fingers on my scalp, his abs and thighs tightening. “Molly…”
He’s warning me, I know he is, which is thoughtful and considerate, but I want all of him, so I keep sucking, taking him deep, and he comes, hot liquid sliding down my throat.
“Holy fucking shit,” he gasps.
I slow the pace of my mouth until his body relaxes, then let him slide out. My hand still grips him, though and I hold him in place to gently lick him and sweep up every last drop. “Mmmm.”
“Fuck yeah.” He lets go of my head and reaches for me, doing an impressive ab crunch then lifting me right off the bed to pull me up on top of him. He wraps his arms around me and squeezes, finding my mouth with his, and I love that he’s not afraid to kiss me even though he just came there.
We kiss on and on, hot and eager and appreciative.
“That was fucking incredible,” Jax murmurs long moments later.
“Was it?” The words sound vulnerable and I immediately regret them.
“Yeah.” He strokes my hair, his other hand resting on my low back. “Oh hell yeah. I’m still seeing stars.”
“You’re not just saying that?” Oh my God, could I sound any more inadequate?
He goes very still. I don’t look at him. Then he rolls me under him. Propped on his elbows above me, he frames my face with his hands and stare into my eyes. “I’m not just saying that,” he growls. “Molly. You know I’m always honest. Right?”
Holding his gaze, I nod slowly. “I do.”
“I said it was incredible, and it was.”
I give another tiny nod, warmth spreading though my chest, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. “I really liked it.”
He groans again and buries his face in the side of my neck. “That’s so fucking hot.”
“O-okay.”
“I love blow jobs,” he mumbles. “You can do that any time.”
A little laugh escapes me. “Any time?”
“You know what I mean. Like, maybe not in public.”
“Why not? You made me come in public.”
He lifts his head and meets my eyes again and his are warm and bright. “There was nobody else around. But you have a fair point.”
A smile slowly overtakes my face, and he returns it. A hot glow fills my body. I think it’s happiness.
17
Molly
“This is the best cinnamon bun in the world.” I pull off another piece and pop it in my mouth.
“I agree. Never had one better.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see the family at the table next to us in the small restaurant looking at us and whispering. Then the mom nods and the two boys slide off their chairs to approach us.
“Hi, are you Jackson Wynn?” one ginger-haired boy asks.
Jax smiles at him. “I am.”
I catch the excitement on the mom’s face.
“Could we get your autograph?” the boy asks
“And a picture?” the other adds.
“Sure.”
Jax complies, bringing one boy around to the other side of his chair so Mom can take a picture of them all. By this point everyone in the restaurant is watching us, and I hear “Jackson Wynn!” a few times.
People are apparently thrilled by this, and Jax signs a few more autographs and poses for more pictures. Some players are awkward around their fans, Steve being one of them. He was never good at the small talk, but Jax has a way about him that’s so effortless and charming. He comments on a boy’s Batman shirt and on a little girl’s Frozen dress, and he chats easily with the adults.
“Well, that was interesting,” I say as we walk down the sidewalk leaving the restaurant. “You’re pretty popular around here.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
I elbow him. “You guess.”
“I grew up here. Or not far from here.”
We walked here for brunch, so we leisurely retrace our steps along Tawapit Drive. It’s super hot and muggy today, the air close and heavy, the sky overcast.
“Feels like a thunderstorm coming,” Jax says. “Maybe this is a good night to go to a movie.”
“That would be fun.” We’ve walked past the log cabin theater a few times but I’m curious to see inside.
It starts raining just as we arrive back at the cottage, but the drops feel cool and fresh so I don’t mind. I laugh and turn my face to the sky, my arms extended. “Oh my God, the rain smells so good!”
It’s a great day to sit on the screened in porch, rain pattering gently down onto the trees and grass. I’m reading when Jax gets a call from his agent. He goes inside to talk, and I can hear his voice but not exactly what’s being said.
When Jax returns to the porch, the expression on his face tells me it wasn’t a good conversation.
“Still no contract?” I ask hesitantly.
“No.” He sits next to me and rubs the back of his neck.
“I don’t totally understand what’s so difficult about it. Are you way far apart in what you want compared to what the team is offering?”
“Yeah. It’s complicated as hell. They have to worry about the salary cap and signing the players they for sure want to keep. Duper and Army’s contracts are up this year, and those guys are looking for huge dollars. The team is gonna want to sign them for sure, so then guys like me end up waiting. And we don’t know if they’ll be able to afford to sign me too, for what I want.”
&n
bsp; “Hmmm.”
“Paul says not to panic. There are a lot of players in the league in this situation. It seems like nobody wants to do deals and be the first to sign someone and then set the market for everyone else.”
“Okay, I get that.”
“Yeah.” He makes a face.
“There’s nothing wrong with trying to get the most money you can,” I add. “It’s a business, right?”
“Exactly. We need to make as much as we can while we can, because our careers are short.”
I nod. Jax is young, but he has a point.
“It’ll work out,” I say confidently, rubbing a hand over his chest. “You’re a good player.”
“Thanks.” He smiles and pulls me closer for a kiss. Within minutes, his hands are under my shirt and in my shorts, and we make out for a while in the damp air then move into the bedroom for slow, sweet afternoon nooky.
There’s something so lovely about having endless time, rain falling outside, and silvery daylight that provides enough illumination to see Jax in all his wonder. He kisses me everywhere, lifting and shifting me as he wants with his powerful muscles, caressing me and licking me and fucking me until I’m weak and boneless and blissed out.
“I found this old game of Trivial Pursuit.” Jax sets the box on the dining room table.
It’s an original edition, the teal blue box worn on the corners. It appears to have been well-used.
“Ooooh!” I clap with excitement. “We can play that tonight.”
“After our ice cream.”
We walk to the little ice cream place downtown. I love how everyone calls it “downtown,” but I guess it is, now that I’ve seen the extent of two different cottage areas and the campground. Wasagaming is a sweet little town. Even the fire station is cute.
Back at the cottage, Jax lights a fire and sets the Trivial Pursuit box on the coffee table. “Prepare to go down, Flynn.”
“In your dreams, Wynn.”
“Pretty confident, huh?”
“I am.”
“Let’s make it more interesting.”
“Okay.” I arch an eyebrow.
“If we don’t get the answer, we have to remove an article of clothing.”
I blink, then laugh. “Strip Trivia? I love it!”
He shoots me an evil grin as he sets up the board.
My first question is from the entertainment category.
“What is the name of Warner Brothers’ romantic pet skunk?” Jax reads.
“Phhhht. Pepe le Pew.”
His mouth twists up as I roll the die again. This time it’s Science and Nature.
Jax frowns. “Shit. What Russian physiologist went to the dogs to write Conditioned Reflexes.”
I laugh. “Pavlov.”
“Yeah, but what’s his first name?”
“Oh, come on!”
He arches an eyebrow, waiting.
I squeeze my eyes shut, thinking. “Ivan. Ivan Pavlov.”
“Crap.”
“I’m still fully clothed.”
“I know.”
“I can’t fucking believe this,” Jax says as he reads the next card. “I’m taking another card.”
“No!” I sit forward, grinning. “You can’t do that. We have to play by the rules.”
“Babe. When it comes to getting you naked, I’m not gonna play fair.”
“Yes, you are. What’s the question?”
He sighs. “Who declared ‘As long as I am mayor, there will be law and order in Chicago?’ ”
I laugh delightedly. “I see why you’re annoyed. Richard Daley.”
“Yes.” He tosses the card down with disgust.
My luck runs out, however, with the next question. “What two cities usually mark the extremes of English Channel swims?”
“Dover and…um…” I rack my brain for a French coastal city. Damn. “Uh…” I’m coming up blank, but finally say, “Bordeaux.”
“Wrong. Calais.”
“Shit! I knew that!”
He gestures at me, reminding me to take something off. I look down at myself. I’m not wearing a lot of clothes. I stand up and step out of my shorts.
Jax’s smile turns carnal and he nods approvingly.
Now it’s his turn. “You’re going down,” I say, pulling a card from the box.
He lands on Arts & Literature, which I happen to know is not his strongest category.
“Who’s the clown in Shakespeare’s Henry IV and The Merry Wives of Windsor?”
“Fuck.” His lips curve down in disgust. “I have no clue.” He peels his shirt off.
My mouth drops open. “You didn’t even try.” Then I smirk. “You just want to get naked.”
He smirks back at me. “True. But remember, I’m very competitive.”
“You could have at least guessed.”
“I couldn’t even come up with a guess.”
“Hmmm.”
“Why are you complaining?” He sticks out his chest.
“Solid point. I like your abs. Okay. My turn.”
“What metal makes up to ten percent of yellow gold?” he reads.
“Copper.”
He nods. “Yes.”
Then it’s, “What’s the only U.S. state that borders a Canadian territory?”
“Maine.”
“Wrong.”
“What?”
“Territory.” He taps the card on my nose. “It’s Alaska. It borders the Yukon, which is a territory.”
“Ohhhh.” I’m annoyed at my careless mistake. “Shit, I answered too fast. If it was a province, it would be a lot of states.” I sigh and pull off my T-shirt. I am now sitting on the couch in my pink lace demi bra and matching thong.
“This is getting good.” Jax rubs his hands together.
“Sports and Leisure. Okay. What makes a Black Russian black?” I pause. “Wait, this is a sports question?”
“I guess booze is leisure. Too easy. Kahlua.”
“Yes.”
He keeps getting questions right, and I’m tempted to cheat and make up something I know he can’t answer. But that would be unsportsmanlike. Finally, I get him with, “What’s a California long white?”
He gazes blankly at me. Finally, he says, “A coffee.”
“Ha! It’s a potato. Finally, those jeans are coming off.”
“Nope.” He toes off one sandal.
“What!” I stare at him. “That’s not fair! I was barefoot.”
He smiles. “You should have thought of that.”
I narrow my eyes at him and pick up the die. I keep my underwear on a little longer, then have to decide whether it’s the bra or thong that goes. I decide on the bra.
“Good choice.” Jax leers at my boobs.
My nipples have tightened, not only due to being exposed to the air but responding to Jax’s lascivious stare. I’ve never been an exhibitionist, but this is turning me on. And Jax too, judging from the bulge in his jeans. I squeeze my thighs together.
“Are we going to finish this game?” I ask breathlessly.
“Hell yeah. I have to beat you.”
I suck briefly on my bottom lip, and his eyes darken. “Okay.” I pluck a card from the box. “What is the rain’s name in ‘They Call the Wind Mariah’?”
“Whut?”
I smile. “It’s a song.”
“The rain’s name,” he repeats.
“Right.”
“Rain…Rachel.”
“Wrong. The rain’s name is Tess.”
“Did you know that?” he demands.
“Nope.” I beam at him. “Wasn’t my question though.” I gesture at him, and he takes off his other sandal.
I’m losing badly at the strip aspect of this game, although I do have more game pies than him. “I have to keep my panties on.”
“That’s what she said.”
I laugh.
“Why?” he challenges. “Can’t you think when you’re naked?”
“I can think, but it’s about…sex.”
/>
“Is there a sex edition of Trivial Pursuit?”
“I have no idea.”
“There should be. You were a star that night at the bar in California for Carnal Knowledge.”
Well, I have to lose my panties for the game to continue far enough for him to get naked, and soon he’s sitting there in his boxer briefs, me naked, and I ask, “Who won the 1942 Nobel Peace Price?”
His forehead creases up and his eyes narrow. “Hmm. 1942…I’d say…Albert Schweitzer.”
“Wrong. Nobody won it that year.”
“Huh?”
“It was during World War II. I think they didn’t give any peace prizes during the war.”
“Shit.”
I wave my hand for him to stand up and strip.
With a grin, he does so, although looking at him wearing nothing but boxer briefs is not a hardship.
I actually lick my lips at seeing him nearly naked now. He’s hard and it’s beautiful. His whole body is beautiful—all those sleek muscles now lying under tanned skin after our two trips. I’ve seen him naked and I’ve seen him in board shorts, so this isn’t a surprise, but it’s unexpectedly erotic, sitting in the living room in front of the fire, both of us unclothed.
“Are you sure we’re going to finish this game?” I ask, my voice husky.
“Forget the game.” He drops to his knees in front of me and hauls my ass forward.
18
Jax
Molly lets out a little squeal as I yank her closer to me. But her thighs fall apart, revealing that sweet, sweet pussy to me. The fire flickers behind me, illuminating her, and I study her for a few seconds, enjoying the view. She’s pink and plump and wet.
I set my palms on her inner thighs and lean in to taste her with a long slow lick.
She moans, her hands going flat on the couch cushions.
I lick her again and again, gliding my tongue over slick lips, up and down, probing deeper, then pressing gentle kisses all over her pussy, sucking her soft flesh into my mouth. Her body quivers in response to my touch, and she makes needy whimpery noises. When I touch my tongue to her clit, she jolts, a soft cry escaping her.
Game Changer Page 16
