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Fighting Jacob

Page 31

by Shandi Boyes


  Getting down and dirty in a busy parking lot is risqué enough. I don’t need it witnessed by a man I’ve grown to admire the past few months. Tom isn’t a drinker, but that hasn’t stopped him from popping into Pete’s for a ginger ale every Thursday afternoon. He updated me on Noah’s condition without once pointing out the fact he knew I wasn’t visiting Noah because disappointment can be articulated without words. Usually, criticism doesn’t bother me, but it’s been harder to handle the past three months. Noah’s coma made me soft... and perhaps the man beside me.

  Jacob and I have maintained regular contact the past two weeks, but it’s only been via text messages and phone calls. I’m scheduled at Pete’s every weekend, and Jacob’s weekdays are tied up doing community service. Although I don’t work twenty-four hours a day, I know the promise he made to Noah at the start of his admission, so I’d never make him choose between his best friend and me—I hate losing.

  If you had told me two weeks ago our phone conversation would be more heated than some face-to-face interactions we’ve had, I would have laughed. Now I’m calling myself an idiot for not adding electronics into the mix earlier. The amount of teasing...my god. I'm coiled so tightly, just sitting across from Jacob has my orgasm teetering. I remember the dirty words he whispered, and how his breathing hitched when I followed his instructions to a T.

  God—being this dirty should almost be saintly.

  When Jacob notices me squirming in my seat, he rakes his eyes down my body, slowing at the parts that make the dampness between my legs undeniable. "You alright?"

  The lack of crinkles in his crotch reveals he knows what has me squirming, but he’s playing the game how he’s been taught. He was trained by the best—AKA me.

  “I’m fine. You?”

  Now his pants have crinkles, more from the material bunching around his crotch than anything. That probably has something to do with the seductive purr my question was delivered with. I said he was taught by the best, not that I didn’t have the skills needed to return his tease.

  “I’ll be good... soon.” As his teeth rake his lower lip, his eyes drift back to the road.

  I want to say a lack of eye contact cools my turbines, but that would be a lie. Ravenshoe Private Hospital peeking out over the horizon, though, that's a quick reminder we're not traveling to Bronte's Peak to become reacquainted.

  After finding a parking space at the top of the garage, barging through thousands of fans who recognize him from Rise Up’s early days, then wrangling past a handful of reporters offering a ridiculous amount of money to sneak a camera onto Noah’s floor, Jacob guides me into Noah’s room. The scene we walk into this time is a stark contrast to two weeks ago. Emily's cheeks are rosy; her hair is knotted... and she's moaning instead of sobbing.

  “I was about to tell you to get a room, then I realized you're already in one.”

  Jacob’s voice is full of jest, but Emily still dies a thousand deaths of embarrassment. It could have been worse. At least they’re clothed this time around. They weren’t when I walked into Emily’s room without knocking last Christmas.

  “I thought dry humping ended in high school?”

  Jacob’s fingers sizzle against mine, appreciating how my burn complemented his. After bumping Emily with my hip, loving how her cheeks inflame even more, I lock my eyes with Noah. “Way to scare the shit out of us, asshole.”

  Call me naïve, but I don’t expect him to reply to my taunt. He just woke up from a coma, so he shouldn’t be talking, should he? So imagine my surprise when he mocks, “Sorry about that, princess.”

  Aware of my absolute hatred of nicknames, he calls me one at every given chance. Princess, baby, darling, honey—you name it, he’s called me it at one stage the past two years. They make me want to vomit in my mouth. There are only two names I'll tolerate: Noah's pet name for Emily—who wouldn't want to be called Beautiful all the time?—and the name nickname Jacob gave me. He shortened it to CT, but I know what it stands for, and I friggin’ love it!

  I’m drawn from my thoughts when Noah asks Emily, “Does Lola know?”

  “Does Lola know what?”

  When neither Emily or Noah give me any indication as to what they’re talking about, I shift on my feet to face Jacob. He freezes, utterly terrified. “Jacob...?”

  Before I can read a single confession streaming from his eyes, Emily blubbers out, “I’m pregnant.”

  I jackknife back so quickly, I almost lose my footing. I thought her belly looked more rounded when Noah had a heart attack two weeks ago, but I brushed it off as a consequence of living off vending-machine food. I never considered that a baby caused the extra pounds on her svelte frame.

  “How far are you?”

  When I walk past Jacob, I punch him in the arm. He lets out an oomph before his scrumptious chuckle fills the uncomfortable silence plaguing the room. I can’t believe he kept this from me. I’m not angry, but I am taking note that I still have a lot to learn about this man.

  My foot suspends midstride when Emily replies, “Twenty-three weeks.”

  “Twenty three weeks?! You’re twenty-three weeks pregnant!”

  Mistaking my shocked tone as anger, she attempts to calm me down. “You’re the first person we’ve told. No one else knows.”

  “You can’t sugarcoat shit, Em. At the end of the day, it’s still shit.” Confident I’ve got her right where I want her, I gallop the last three steps between us, throw my arms around her shoulders, then squeal, “Congratulations!”

  She stiffens, certain I was going to react badly. I won't lie; that was my first thought, but after everything they've been through, that would have been the worst thing to do. Young or not, they deserve this. Furthermore, I'll be the coolest aunt in the world. I don't have to demand they abide by their curfews or change into more respectable clothing. I can spoil them rotten and not suffer a single consequence. It's quite brilliant, really.

  “Group hug!” Before Emily or I can react, Jacob wraps us up in a firm hug. “Too bad you're stuck in bed, Noah; you're missing out. Sisters...” A growl that makes me wish we were alone finalizes his tease.

  Fortunately for both Noah and Jacob, Noah’s bandmates and members of his inner circle arrive before Noah can issue any of the threats he’s shooting Jacob’s way. They’re as stunned as I was about how well Noah seems considering the circumstances. Just looking at him, you’d have no idea he spent the last three months in a coma.

  My mom cries happy tears when Emily informs her she’s pregnant. Tom’s reaction is more subdued. He glares at Noah with his mouth hanging open and his head shaking. When Noah and Jacob laugh as if they’re the only ones privy to the punch line, my confusion has Jacob’s lips getting friendly with my ear.

  “I’ll tell you later... when you’re in bed... panting from sexual exhaustion.”

  This—this is what I was referencing earlier. I thought I’d teach Jacob all the moves before setting him free in the wild to defend himself. I had no clue he’d use all my best tricks on me.

  After squeezing my ass firmly enough to assure not even BOB will scratch the surface of my horniness, Jacob saves Noah from a much too late birds and the bees talk from Tom.

  A couple of hours pass before the party-like atmosphere in Noah’s room is ended by an attractive blonde with a stern face. She reminds Noah’s guests that although he’s awake, he still has a long road to recovery. That kills the mood even more than Jacob asking Noah if he could raid his condom stash since he clearly doesn’t know how to use them.

  Don't get me wrong, everyone laughed at Jacob's comment, I just hated that only two sets of eyes floated my way when they did. There were over twenty people in Noah's room at that stage, yet only ten percent peered my way. Those aren't good odds.

  After hugging Emily and Noah farewell, I tell Jacob I’ll wait for him in the corridor. Because he’s more popular than me, it takes him triple the time to say goodbye. He mainly bids farewell with man hugs and shoulder slaps, but an occasional ch
eek kiss or two are thrown in as well.

  My pulse spikes when the lady who kicked us out says goodbye with a peck on the lips. They must know each other because their exchange lasts a good five minutes longer than everyone else’s, and even with the boost in time, she seems disappointed that he’s leaving, which is weird considering she told us to go.

  My confusion is set aside when Jacob stops in front of me. “Ready?”

  When the sexy purr of his words has my knees joining, I push off the wall and head to the elevator bank. “Is the ocean salty?”

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Jacob

  As my car careens down the ramp of the multistory parking garage, my hand glides up Lola’s thigh. I’m reasonably sure I’m seconds from being castrated, but I can’t help but tease her. I love how her eyes gloss over when my hands are on her.

  She was named Cock Tease for how relentlessly she teased back when my face was still carrying baby fat, so when I realized I had the upper hand in our relationship, I thought a bit of revenge was in order. Don’t misinterpret; I’d never recommended going against a woman as fierce as Lola without first knowing all your facts. It only dawned on me an hour after she left two weeks ago that I had the advantage.

  How did I stumble upon this wisdom, you ask? Our kiss.

  I kissed her before revealing I didn’t have any relations with Nat, yet she didn’t pull away. She encouraged our embrace. That in itself proves she cares for me.

  When Lola’s squirming grows to the point of looking like she has ants in her pants, my eyes stray from the road to her. Biggest mistake I’ve ever made. She’s no longer watching the scenery zoom past the window. She’s watching me with hungry, I’m going to devour you without coming up for air eyes.

  The desire in her hooded gaze has my dick stiffening so quickly, the lead in my zipper is now tattooed on my dick. I’d give anything to have her lips on me. On any part of me. My lips. My neck. My dick.

  Sensing my silent bidding, her eyes drop to my crotch. The heat I feel a mere inch from my pinkie intensifies when she takes in the effect she has on my body. She only needs to breathe in my direction, and I'm as hard as stone.

  I plant my foot on the accelerator, hoping to finish our thirty-mile trip as fast as possible. Lola doesn’t have the same level of patience. “Fuck it.”

  After throwing off her seatbelt, she crawls over the console, slides down my zipper, then frees my dick from my pants with a boing. My grip on the steering wheel tightens when her velvety tongue teasingly circles the rim of my cock.

  “Not now, Lola. Please. Fuck. I can’t take it.”

  Incapable of withstanding her teasing a second longer, I guide her head downward at the same time I jerk my hips upward. An indescribable grunt seeps from my lips when a couple of inches of my cock rams into her mouth. It’s silky and wet and could only be better if it were her pussy.

  Her heated breaths make condensation bead on the crest of my dick when she murmurs, “Someone’s impatient.”

  Impatient is too innocent for the wicked thoughts streaming through my head. She’s been a tease the entire time I’ve known her, but I’m wound up too fucking tight to take her torment tonight. After months of abstinence and two weeks of sexting that could have me thrown in jail if my phone ends up in the wrong hands, I’m more than ready to have my wet dreams turned to reality.

  Lola’s head collides with my door when I yank my steering to the left without warning. I was so determined to get her lips exactly where I want them, I didn’t notice the double-trailer semi heading straight for us. It roars past us with a honk, rattling my windows as effectively as Lola is rattling my composure. A second later, we would have been toast.

  Adrenaline races through my veins. It isn’t our near-accident that has my heart hammering; it's Lola's lips sinking down my shaft. She’s taking me in slowly, one glorious inch at a time. This will make me sound like an ass, but I’d rather be honest. Before Lola, I had never been deep throated. Some of my dates got a few inches from the base. Others straight up refused to try. Lola gets an A for effort. She can’t quite take all of me, but she gives it her very best shot every single time. And thankfully, she has no gag reflex.

  Air whistles between my teeth when the crown of my cock hits the back of her throat. She doesn’t gag, but the sexy-ass moan she releases has my balls constricting. There’s nothing hotter than a girl who enjoys giving head.

  I almost beg for her lips to stay wrapped around my cock when she guides her head back up, but I don’t need to. After a quick lick to replenish them with moisture, she glides them back down just as eagerly.

  “Fuck yeah, baby, just like that.”

  When she attempts to protest my term of endearment, I rock my hips, stuffing her gripe into her throat with my cock. She bobs up and down on repeat, her lips descending more with each suck. In no time at all, she’s taking more of me than any woman before her.

  “I knew you’d do it. There’s nothing you can’t do when you put your mind to it.”

  As her mouth sucks at me like her pussy does, her tongue pays dedicated attention to my knob. She laps up my pre-cum before it has the chance to spill while keeping the tip well lathered for her multiple descents.

  When she fists my cock so she can work the sections her mouth is failing to reach, keeping my eyes on the road is a fucking hard feat. The purrs ripping from her mouth match the rumble of my engine, and she’s working my cock like she was born to do it.

  The harder she sucks, the faster my car flies down the highway. My heavy compression on the accelerator has us traveling at a speed well above the designated limit, but I can’t help it. The image of her sucking my cock is pure fucking heaven. It has every muscle in my body pulling taut, prepping for release. My balls tuck in close to my body as my shaft grows heavy with need. I’m going to blow, and I’m going to do it in Lola’s mouth.

  Just as my car zooms past our exit, my thighs flex, my lips part, and hot, salty cum erupts from my cock, spurting into Lola’s already overstuffed mouth. She moans a noise I’ve only heard a handful of times the past two years as she battles to swallow the spawn pumping out of me in thick, hot bursts. It’s a sexy, needy purr that keeps my cock as hard as it was before I came.

  After ensuring every drop of cum is taken care of, her attention shifts to nibbling on my ear. Like my night could get any better, it skyrockets to a never-before-reached level when she whispers in my ear, "Fuck, I missed you."

  Lola rolls over until her chin is resting on my chest. “I’ll never regret the day I showed you that trick with your tongue.”

  I arch my brow, pretending I’m not loving her tousled hair and makeup-free face. It’s rare to see her like this, carefree and natural, so I relish it as much as I can. “You taught me?”

  She slaps my bicep as her eyes narrow into thin slits. After nipping at her kiss-swollen lips, I scoot down her body, dragging my lips over her generous breasts, down her washboard flat stomach before coming to a stop at the sexiest fucking pussy I’ve ever seen. “Want me to show it to you again?"

  I’m two seconds from slicing my tongue through the heat capable of destroying me when she shakes her head. “I can’t believe I’m going to say this.” She grimaces like she’s about to tell me we’re related. “But I need time to recover.”

  My cock deflates like someone letting air out of a balloon when her hop off the bed causes pain to flash through her eyes. With her eyes on anything but me, she slips on my shirt before scrambling into the bathroom.

  I’m on her heels two seconds later. “Did I hurt you?” I sound like a wimp, but I don't give a fucking shit. Months of sexual frustration meant things got a little rowdy, but I'll never forgive myself if I hurt her. I love her. I'm not supposed to hurt her.

  The weight on my chest eases when she pivots around to face me. She’s biting her bottom lip, and her eyes are sparked with lust. When she shakes her head, I inwardly sigh, relieved as fuck. She’s tough, but she’s also a tiny little thing, an
d I’m... not so tiny.

  “Don’t look so worried, Jacob. It’s not a bad pain.”

  After placing a squirt of toothpaste on her toothbrush, she begins brushing her teeth. She makes even the most mundane tasks sexy. I doubt even scrubbing the toilet would look boring if she were doing it.

  “Don’t even think about it.”

  She spits foam into the cracked vanity sink before peering at me in the mirror. I eye her curiously, unsure what her statement means. After cocking her hip, her eyes drop to my crotch. When I follow their descent, a chuckle vibrates in my chest. My dick clearly enjoys the visual of her brushing her teeth. I'm hard like I haven't already come twice tonight.

  “If you’re expecting him to calm down, you’ve run out of genie wishes. You only have to breathe, and the beat of my heart lowers twelve inches."

  I expect her to call me a pig or to leave me hanging in a bathroom too small for a man my size to get a good grip, so you can imagine my surprise when my comment awards me a minty-fresh version of Lola for the next thirty minutes.

  “Who was that lady today? The one in Noah’s room?”

  Lola joins me on the couch in her tiny living room to devour the Chinese we just had delivered to replenish the shitload of nutrients we lost the past few hours.

  “Which one?” I talk around the forkful of fried rice in my mouth, too hungry to remember my manners. I’m beyond starving. I haven’t eaten since last night, but with Lola being hungry for something other than food, I had more urgent matters to attend to before my hungry tummy.

  “The blonde.” Her brows stitch as she stares into space. “The one who kissed you goodbye.”

  I’m about to reply that no one with blonde hair kissed me—Jenni’s is more strawberry blonde than platinum—but recalling Rachel’s unexpected peck on my way out stops me. “Do you mean Rachel? About this tall.” I hold my hand to my pecs. “Smells like wildflowers and antibacterial soap?”

 

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