His tongue wouldn’t let up. I cried out, screaming his name over and over again as I came violently on his face.
My legs collapsed on the floor; my hair was tangled in my face. It was then that I realized I was completely naked, yet Jeremy was still clothed.
I started to sit up, but he pushed me down. “You’re not going anywhere. Don’t move,” he commanded.
Typically, I’d tell him where to shove his demands, but I was too busy drooling as he removed his shirt and pants. His body was absolute perfection. Goddamn, he was cut. He had a six-pack and his broad shoulders were as muscular as I suspected.
“Oh my god,” I rasped, staring at him. Liking my reaction, he grinned down at me before pulling a condom from his pants pocket and sheathing himself.
“For once, you’re doing wonders for my ego,” he joked, kneeling between my legs and pulling me towards him, his erect cock standing proud and ready for me.
I went up on my elbows, shaking my hair behind my back. “Don’t ruin it, Wyatt. It’s time to shut up and fuck me.”
He licked his lips and stared down at me. “I aim to please.” He lifted my hips and positioned himself at my entrance. I arched against him, throwing my head back as he pushed his way inside my body.
We moaned together as he buried himself to the hilt. We stared at each other as he slowly glided back out, the tip of his cock teasing me before plunging inside me again.
“Lena,” he gasped my name, pulling me up so that I straddled him, his dick deep inside me. “God, Lena.” He held me tight as I rode him. Harder. Faster. He kissed me with abandon. He held me close, his hands stroking my back as we fucked.
I slid up and down his cock, taking all of him. Our position had us pressed against each other. Chest to chest. Sex wasn’t always intimate. You could screw and it didn’t have to feel like anything but grunting and grinding.
This was different. This was something else entirely. We stared into each other’s eyes as our bodies melded together. His hands sliding upward into my hair as he kissed me, murmuring nonsense against my mouth as we went higher and higher.
I milked him for everything he had. And when he came, he reached between my legs and massaged my clit so I could orgasm with him.
“Lena,” he breathed, kissing me tenderly as my body went slack and whatever energy was fueling me, dissipated.
I was entirely too inebriated for what this all meant.
“Lena,” he said again when we were finished. I was still straddling him, his dick inside me, though I could feel him going limp. I needed to move.
But I didn’t want to.
God, I didn’t want to.
He cupped my face. “Don’t regret this. Please, don’t regret this.” I had to be imagining the urgency in his tone. It didn’t make sense.
This didn’t mean anything.
Just two people who were attracted to each other, finally getting what they wanted.
“Lena?”
I didn’t say anything.
It was best not to.
**
“Ugh,” I groaned, rolling over onto my side. My stomach pitched and I thought I was going to throw up. My alarm was blaring, and I smacked it until it turned off.
My head was pounding, and my mouth tasted like a cat had shit in it.
What the hell had happened last night? It was all a bit of a blur.
I stretched my arms out and hit hard flesh.
What the—?
I looked beside me to find Jeremy sprawled on his back, bare ass naked, his impressive penis sporting an obvious case of morning wood. His mouth hung open and he was snoring slightly. He sure did take up a lot of room.
The night before came rushing back. Sweet Lila’s. Playing pool. All of the drinks.
Then the ride back to my place in the taxi.
“Oh god,” I muttered, covering my face with my hands as I remembered how I had basically dry humped Jeremy in front of a complete stranger. What the hell was wrong with me?
Liquor and hormones were what was wrong with me.
And I gave him a blow job in the hallway of my apartment complex!
Dear Jesus, little old Mrs. Franklin could have walked out of her front door and seen us!
I let him come in my mouth!
I’ve never let anyone come in my mouth!
“No, no, no.” I got out of bed as quickly, and as quietly as possible. Where the hell were my clothes? I didn’t even remember making it to my bed.
My memories came back like a movie buffering. Jeremy’s face between my legs. His lips. His tongue.
I felt warm all over just thinking about it.
Then the sex. Oh, my lord, the sex.
It had been incredible.
But what had Jeremy said at the end? I could see his face in my mind. The way his eyes burned into mine. I could still feel his cock inside me. Deep. Like it belonged there.
“Shit, shit, shit.” I grabbed my robe from the back of my bedroom door and tiptoed to the bathroom where I quickly brushed my teeth and ran a comb through my tangled hair. I purposefully didn’t look at my reflection, knowing I wouldn’t like what I saw. I then made my way to the living room. I was so sore I could barely walk. Every step pulled at aching muscles.
Why did it feel as if I had ridden a bucking bronco all night?
I turned on the floor lamp to find the living room in a state of chaos. Well, there were my clothes. They were strewn about the room and Jeremy’s were in a pile by the couch. I ran my hand through my hair and made my way to the kitchen. Coffee. I needed coffee. Then I could try and make sense of this madness I’d found myself in.
I’d had sex with Jeremy Wyatt. Amazing, mind-blowing sex.
And not just once either.
After we finished the first time, we took a shower together. Where he fucked me against the wall.
Then we stumbled to my bedroom and he pushed me onto my stomach and took me from behind. Then for good measure, we sixty-nined until we passed out. We had literally spent hours upon hours screwing. No wonder I felt as if I had been hit by a bus. I had used muscles I didn’t even know I had.
I filled the coffee machine and turned it on, listening to it percolate while I tried to figure out what I was going to do. Jeremy was currently sleeping... in my bed.
I hated him.
Half the time I couldn’t stand being in the same room with him.
And now he was naked on my Laura Ashley sheets.
I sat down at the kitchen table. “Ow,” I complained, the skin between my legs bruised and painful. I had literally let Jeremy Wyatt fuck me raw.
I leaned my head in my hands and tried not to freak out.
This was bad. This was very, very bad.
His face flashed in my mind again. The way he looked at me after we had sex the first time. He had held me tightly, our bodies pressed intimately together.
“Don’t regret this. Please, don’t regret this.”
Did I regret it?
Hell yeah, I did.
We worked together. Mixing business with pleasure was always a bad idea.
Damn it!
“Good morning, sunshine.” I looked up to see Jeremy standing in the doorway, still completely nude.
“Um, you want to put something on?” I averted my eyes, though it was difficult. The man was entirely too good looking.
“Oh, sorry. I couldn’t find my clothes.”
I pointed to the living room. “They’re out there.”
The coffee was finally brewed so I busied myself with making coffee. “You want some?” I asked when he came back into the kitchen, thankfully now wearing his boxers and dress shirt.
“Yeah, sure. Sounds great.” His voice sounded strange, but I was not in the mindset to wonder about it. I felt awkward and uncomfortable. And honestly, I wished he’d leave already so I could sink into a hole of mortification.
I had given him a blowjob in the hallway! What the hell?
What must he think of me? I was no be
tter than those random hoe bags he slept with on a regular basis.
“Uh, can you get the milk out of the fridge? I know you like that fancy flavored creamer, but I don’t have any of that stuff here. I hope the milk is alright.” Dear god, I was rambling. I was filling the inevitable silence with useless drivel.
“Milk’s fine. I’m not fussy.” He handed me the carton of milk. He was standing entirely too close. I had to brush against him to reach the sugar.
“Excuse me,” I muttered, unable to look at him.
I dumped a spoonful of sugar into both of our mugs. “Shit, sorry. You don’t like sugar, do you? I can try spooning it out I guess. Though it’s probably dissolved by now.”
“Don’t worry about it, sugar’s great.” There was that tone again. He didn’t sound happy. He was probably trying to think of a way to extricate himself from this awful situation he had found himself in.
“Here.” I shoved the mug into his hand. “Do you want breakfast? I don’t really cook. But I have bread. I don’t usually eat breakfast. And I do need to get moving—”
“Lena.”
I barely heard him. “I have an early morning meeting with Deacon Palmer. I have to start preparing for his deposition now that the Baker case is over.”
“Lena, take a breath.”
“Do you want to take a shower? You can if you want. Though the water pressure is horrible—”
Jeremy took the coffee cup from my hands and set it on the counter before turning me to face him, lifting my chin with his finger so I was forced to look at him. “Stop it, okay. Just stop it.”
“Stop what?” I asked innocently.
Jeremy sighed. “I get it.”
“You get what?” I asked in genuine perplexity.
Jeremy backed away, putting space between us. “This was a mistake, right? That’s what you’re thinking. And I get it. We were wasted. You were high on your trial win. We took things too far. Plus, there’s Adam to consider.”
“Adam?” What did my brother have to do with this?
“He’d kill me—slowly— if he knew we had—if he knew we’d been…” His words trailed off. He didn’t really need to finish his thought. We both knew what my overprotective brother would have to say if he found out his partner and his baby sister had hooked up.
“Well Adam doesn’t control my life,” I pointed out defensively.
Jeremy didn’t say anything. We stood silently in my kitchen, neither of us speaking for way too long. After what felt like an eternity, Jeremy put his cup down without drinking his coffee. “Do you want me to leave?” he asked, his voice hard.
I crossed my arms over my chest. “Do you want to leave?”
Jeremy’s expression was cold. “It’s obvious you want me to get out of your hair. I know when I’m not wanted. And look, babe, there are enough women out there that do want me.”
His response instantly got my back up. “Oh, then, by all means, go find one of those women then. Don’t let me stop you.”
I started to push past him so that I could stomp out of the room in an inelegant fashion, but he gently grabbed ahold of my upper arm and pulled me to a stop. “Don’t get pissed at me because you had the best sex of your life last night.” His lips quirked in a sly grin. “And this morning.”
I made a face of disgust. “You’re such a pig, Jeremy Wyatt. You’re fine as long as you don’t open your mouth.”
“You liked my mouth a lot when it was making you come,” he whispered in my ear.
I threw my hands in the air. “See, you’re an obnoxious jackass!”
Without saying another word, Jeremy pulled me up against him and kissed me hard, our teeth clashing together. I pulled back, panting. “What was that for?” I barked, feeling my insides quiver. I could feel his hard-on pressed against my belly.
“I want you to shut up,” he said savagely before kissing me again.
I bit down on his bottom lip as he opened my robe and ran his hands along my body. He lifted me up, my legs wrapping around his waist as he sat me up on the counter.
“You don’t get to tell me to shut up,” I snapped.
Jeremy pushed his boxers down over his hips. “Then be quiet. Is that better?” He pulled my ass to the edge of the counter and pressed his very hard cock against my pussy.
“I guess,” I groaned as he began to ease himself inside me, my muscles straining to accommodate his size. It hurt a little after last night, but it felt so damn good too.
“I like fucking you, Lena. And I know you like fucking me too,” he said as he fit himself inside me.
“So? It doesn’t mean anything. Right?” Did I want it to mean anything? I was scared that I did.
Jeremy gripped my hips and held himself perfectly still. I squirmed against him, encouraging him to move, but he didn’t. “Stop it, Lena. We need to talk about this first.”
“Fine. I like fucking you. There, are you happy now?” This was strange. I was perched on the countertop with Jeremy’s dick buried inside me and we were talking about our... what? Relationship? I squeezed his ass cheeks and wiggled against him, making him moan. “Sex now, talk later.”
“Fine,” he huffed, finally moving.
We were just finding our rhythm when the sound of a ringing phone interrupted us.
“Is that your phone?” I panted, biting down on his shoulder.
“It doesn’t matter,” he groaned, lifting my legs higher on his hips so he could hit the perfect spot.
The phone stopped ringing and immediately started up again. And again. It wouldn’t stop. And it completely ruined the mood.
“I think you need to answer that. It might be an emergency,” I said, thinking about what he told me last night about his mother.
Jeremy looked down at our joined bodies. “Are you serious?”
“Yes, go answer your phone,” I told him, trying not to wince as he slowly pulled out of me.
“Someone had better be dead,” he laughed, and I followed him into the living room. He picked up his phone and answered it without looking to see who was calling.
That was his first mistake.
“Hello?” His eyes were still on me, heated and seductive. But his expression changed instantly. “What do you want?” And then he turned his back to me.
What the hell?
He started to walk out of the room, his voice dropping. “No, I don’t think so. Not tonight. I’m sure.”
Who was he talking to? I didn’t want to follow him, but I was beyond curious. And he didn’t sound pleased with whoever was on the other end.
“You could have texted, Sheila.”
Sheila. He was talking to Sheila Moore. One of the many women he was most likely sleeping with.
Had I just added my name to the ever-growing roster of Jeremy Wyatt’s bed buddies?
I looked down at my naked body and suddenly felt too exposed.
“I know, but it’s not a good time. I’ll call you later.” I could tell he was finishing his phone call. I quickly backed away and returned to the living room, picking up my robe and hastily putting it back on.
Hangovers and jealousy weren’t a good combination because now I was practically vibrating with anger.
When Jeremy returned to the living room, he put his phone down on the coffee table and reached for me again. “Now, where were we—?”
I should probably have played it cool. Not let on that I had been eavesdropping. But I wasn’t thinking too clearly. So instead, I lost my shit.
“You can get the fuck out now,” I told him coldly.
He stopped in his tracks. “Woah, what the hell, Marlena?”
“It’s Lena, and you heard me. Get out of my apartment.”
Jeremy took another tentative step towards me. “I thought we were getting along here—”
“That was until you took a call from one of your other women,” I spat out, unable to stop myself. God, I sounded like a jealous girlfriend. Yuck.
Jeremy seemed at a loss. “What a minute,
I think you’ve got the wrong impression—”
“Was that Sheila Moore?” I asked.
“Well, yeah—”
“And did you or did you not have sex with her?”
Jeremy looked incredibly uncomfortable. “We’re friends, Marlena. Anyway, I don’t see how my past with other women has anything to do with what’s happening here. Between us.”
“Your past?” I laughed a little maniacally. “That sounded a whole lot like your present.” I sounded shrill.
Jeremy put his hands out, trying to touch me. “Baby, come on. Don’t be like that. I’m here with you. That’s all that matters.” He was trying to placate me. Trying to talk me down from the ledge. He was treating me like a silly girl and that infuriated me.
“Who else are you having sex with, Jeremy? Because I’m sure it’s not just Sheila and me. Should I start a club where we can all get together and compare notes?” I asked nastily, noticing how his expression grew just as cold as my tone. “Does Sheila also like that thing you do with your tongue? Maybe I should ask her what her personal favorite Wyatt move is?”
“The color green isn’t pretty on you, baby,” Jeremy said softly, his words hard enough to break a bone.
“Oh, it’s not jealousy. It’s disgust. With myself. For letting you anywhere near me. And I am not your baby.”
I was being cruel. I was trying to hurt him. Because I was hurt and jealous. And hating myself for being those things.
Jeremy looked as if I had slapped him. “Wow, okay. If that’s how you feel, I guess there’s nothing more to say.”
For a brief moment, I wanted to tell him I didn’t mean it. That I liked him being here with me. That I enjoyed his company—when he wasn’t annoying me. That I liked him.
But I couldn’t. Because I was nothing more than conquest and even if I wanted to play that the sex hadn’t mattered, I had too much pride to be a notch on someone’s bedpost.
His phone rang again, he picked up his phone and I saw the name Greta on the screen.
“Another one of your ‘friends?’” I even used air quotes. He was turning me into a caricature. It was humiliating.
Enough was enough.
Say You Love Me : An Enemies to Lovers Romance Page 12
