He let out a bark of laughter. Odd. A ‘thank you’ would have sufficed. “Of course, I wanted to help you… I needed to make sure that the only thing your ass took a beating from was me.”
My cheeks lit up like a firecracker. “I thought we had a deal.”
“You should know better than to think that I always do what I’m told.” Rolling my eyes, I turned my gaze out the window as we pulled into the parking lot of my apartment complex.
It was still snowing, but thankfully, I didn’t have as much left here as I thought. The apartment that I’d rented had come already furnished and the few things that I had purchased were from college and not worth keeping.
My surprise for the morning wasn’t over. I didn’t know what to expect, but I’d planned on Chance just waiting in the truck for me, especially when I told him that there wasn’t much for me to get. Instead, he shut off the car and followed me inside.
“I really can get it all,” I mumbled.
“Have you forgotten the argument that we had less than two hours ago?” he retorted. “I’m not letting you drive here alone and I’m certainly not going to sit in the car and watch you cart all your shit down these steps.”
“Ok…” I sighed, shoving my key into the lock. “Just assumed you wouldn’t want me to think you were going soft on me.”
I saw his hand grip my wrist before I could open the door. “Wha—“ Next thing I knew, my back was against the door, Chance pressed flush against me and his head next to my ear.
“Trust me, J-bird,” he ground his hips—his erection—against my sex while I struggled to recover my breath, “you don’t ever have to worry about me going ‘soft’ on you.”
“Noted.” The word floated out on a rush of air as my hand found the doorknob again.
I stumbled backward into the tiny apartment, Chance’s smirk the last thing I caught before I examined the task in front of us.
I wasn’t joking when I said that there wasn’t that much. It took the two of us maybe another thirty minutes to pack up the rest of my stuff; the fact that every minute we were there, the sexual tension between us built to an increasingly uncomfortable level only made us work faster.
Taping up the last box, I picked it up before he could yell at me to leave it for him and headed for the stairwell, his grumble echoing over my footsteps.
It only took two trips before everything was loaded into my truck and we began the drive home. The snow was falling much heavier and much faster now with the largest snowflakes I’d ever seen; I was grateful that Chance was driving me. I could hardly even see where the road was anymore. At first distracted by the weather and then by my overactive brain, the journey home was spent in relative silence.
I had questions—oh, did I have questions. But all of them were ones I was afraid of the answers to, so I kept my mouth shut.
My phone buzzed in my pocket; it was Ally in my group text with her and Tam.
ALLY
J did you find out what happened with my brother and Frost?
TAMMY
I think I missed something.
Shit. I hadn’t told either of them that Chance was my new roommate… that I’d ended up trading in Tammy—my affectionate friend—for an aggravating (albeit attractive) ex.
“Everything ok?” That inquisitive and attractive ex asked. I looked up at him quickly before nodding.
“Just my group text with your sister and Tammy.” My gaze returned to my phone as my fingers typed up the explanation
ALLY
Jessa…
JESSA
Sorry, Tam. Chance missed his appointment with me the other day. Emmett thinks it has something to do with Frost.
Gnawing on my lip, I debated texting them and telling them about my new roommate situation. Strangely, I felt like I wanted to just keep this to myself for now. In spite of all the aggravation and how poor an idea this probably was, there was just something about this—here—between us.
We began to slide just before we turned up the driveway and all thoughts of responding to my friends went out the window. Chance quickly got control of the truck—with one hand out in front of my chest no less—and we pulled back up to the house safe and sound.
“Thank you,” I murmured.
His response was to carry in four boxes at once, leaving me with the last one.
“Where do you want these?”
I tried to remember all of what was in the ones he was carrying. “By the steps should be fine. I think everything in them goes upstairs.” And then he proceeded to carry all four boxes all the way up to Ally’s room.
“We should have stopped for food.” I looked up from the refrigerator, grabbing one of my La Croix bottles, as he came back down.
“Where?” I laughed and nodded to the window. “I doubt anything is open. Pretty sure we were the only humans who decided to venture out in this storm.”
“Pussies.”
Rolling my eyes at his half-serious tone, I offered, “I can make us something. It’s the least I can do for your help.”
“I can suggest something else if you really want to pay me back.” He added, “Kidding!” when I glared at him. “You cook?”
“Don’t make me take the offer back.”
“Sorry,” he laughed, “I’m just used to both of my sisters—mostly Channing—not knowing two shits about what happens in a kitchen.”
“I do cook and I did pick up a few things from the grocery store this week. Is there something you’d like to eat?”
HER. I WANTED TO EAT her.
It was the only thing that I’d been craving all day. But from the look on her face, I was going to have to start with some real food.
“Anything. I’m fucking starving.” I opened up the fridge, looking for something to keep my eyes off of her. “Jeez, Jessa. Do you have enough La Croix in here?” I grabbed one and smiled provocatively at her.
“Enough to share, apparently.” When she rolled her eyes, I wanted to fuck her so hard until they rolled right back in her head. “I can make us taco dip; it’s my specialty.”
“You make it?”
“Yes. And it’s the best fucking taco dip you will ever taste.” Her sass shone almost as brightly as the pink in her hair.
“I bet it is…” I commented wryly. The pink in her cheeks deepened as her gaze immediately broke from mine. And then I smirked. “What are you waiting for, Jessa?” She shook her head, refusing to look at me.
I knew exactly what she was waiting for—me to make a comment about how delicious her taco… dip… was. The way she tried to hide her arousal amused me. The way my dick swelled painfully at the thought was not as amusing. It made even my sweats marginally uncomfortable.
She didn’t respond, aside from beginning to move around the kitchen, pulling out the baking dish and various ingredients that she needed.
“So, since when do you cook?” I couldn’t remember her cooking when we were in high school. Then again, we were in high school.
“I actually enjoy cooking—not that I’m super skilled at it.” She pulled out the cheese grater and began to shred some of what I guessed was cheddar. “I cooked a lot in college. Helped me… de-stress… escape from certain things.”
She started, catching herself in what she was about to say.
“What things?”
She stopped and reached for her can of water, those full lips closing over the opening in the can made my dick jerk like it had a seizure disorder. It had been hard the second I’d walked into the house and saw her standing in the kitchen. Stupid fucking brain imagining that it would be an every-day sight: her, waiting for me, cooking, hopefully naked.
“So, are you going to talk to Wyatt?” Not a fan of the redirect.
My jaw clenched. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t know what I’m going to do yet.” The oven dinged behind her that it was heated.
“Why not? Do you have any other options to consider?”
“Leave it, Jessa,” I growled and walked into the living room, reaching for the TV remote and the lighter I had stashed in the end table drawer; I needed something to dull the edge of my frustration so that I didn’t say something that I would regret. Turning on the TV, I flipped around, finally settling on Law & Order.
The truth was that I was afraid—afraid to put time into something that I might not be good at because the time that I’d put into things that I was good at and that I loved (namely, her and snowboarding) had been ripped right out from under me with no warning. I didn’t want to take another fall like that.
I wasn’t going to talk to Wyatt because I didn’t know if I could fucking board anymore. It had been a mistake to think about the school the way that I had this morning, but for some reason, around Jessa all I wanted to do was fucking dream about the future and the possibilities… and her.
Over the iconic dun-dun of Law and Order on the TV, the door to the oven opened and I heard as Jessa slid the baking dish inside.
Exhaling, I reached into my pocket and pulled out the joint that Frost had sent home with me, feeling guilty for kicking me out of his house—and too sentimental to flush the shit that he needed to get rid of.
It was hot in here. I was hot. It was her fault. I tugged my t-shirt up over my head. Clicking the lighter, I lit the joint and took a deep breath, waiting for the relaxation to hit me.
Honestly, I didn’t know what was stressing me more—the questions about my future or the fact that I was harder than the fucking granite countertop having to watch her parade around in those yoga pants all morning.
That, and the fact that I was now living with her. Hell, I was fucking playing house with her for Christ’s sake—helping her move her shit like a knight in shining armor, having her cook food for the two of us. It was comical; Frost would be having a field-day.
I took another long drag, hating myself because I was so fucking horny and all I wanted was the woman who had broken me. At this point, I had to admit that when I was around her, all I could think about was pleasuring her and protecting her—instead of punishing her like I’d sworn I would.
I was a fucking mess the way that I wanted her.
At least I knew that she wanted me, too. Hell, I could fucking smell it the whole drive home. If it hadn’t been a blizzard, I would have pulled over and pulled her onto my lap, but then we would have been stranded for fuck knows how long.
I wondered if I should tell her to update my medical history with ‘erection lasting longer than four hours,’ as a pre-existing condition to being around her. Four-hour erection. I laughed. More like for-fucking-ever erection.
I took another puff, staring blankly at the episode that I knew I’d seen before. My hand resting lazily over my dick. Once I finished this, I would need to do something about it otherwise I was going to be for a very uncomfortable rest of the day.
“Chance!” I hadn’t even seen—or heard—her walk over, too lost in my own thoughts. I looked up at those hazel eyes that were glaring at me—shifting between my gaze and the joint in my hand.
Christ. Not this, too.
“What are you doing?” My frustration was seeping out through the cracks. Maybe I should push, but I hated seeing him sell himself short, especially after everything that he told me. He needed to talk to Wyatt. I saw the way he spoke about California. I knew he’d be such an asset to the new school if he’d just give himself the chance. “I want to know why you won’t talk to Wyatt. Take that shit out of your mouth for one second and stop running from me.”
He took one more puff of the blunt—on purpose—raising an eyebrow at me. “Give me something better to put in my mouth and I will.”
Good Lord.
I glared at him even as the suggestion brought heat to my cheeks—and some other parts much further south. He knew what I was thinking—the comment I was waiting for about my taco dip. The dirtiest part inside of me had been rolling with anticipation for more sexual banter that would turn into exactly this.
Actually, the dirtiest parts of my mind had been chugging full steam ahead after last night and the slow-sinking-in reality that Chance—the most gorgeous man I’d ever seen and the man whose orgasms could realign every constellation in my body—was now my roommate. Oh, also the man who happened to be my ex who I cheated on.
Part of me never considered that kiss cheating; it had been a necessary evil and con. There had only ever been one man in my heart and in my mind. And it hadn’t been Nick Frost.
He took another puff. Daring me.
Damn him.
I stepped towards him, arms still over my chest even though at this point I was only fighting myself for giving in to him—and everything that I craved. Bending down, I put my face in front of his, waiting until he lowered the blunt before I bent in and pressed my lips to his.
He sat unmoving under my mouth for a second before his tongue demanded entrance. I kissed him, giving him the drug that he craved more than the marijuana hanging limply from his hand. My hands dug into the arm rest behind his head as the kiss deepened like the snow that was falling outside—quickly and heavily with no chance of escaping its uninhibited inundation.
I gasped into his mouth feeling his other hand close firmly over my breast, kneading—demanding—pleasure from my flesh.
“As much as I love your mouth, J-bird,” he rasped, pulling away and leaning back against the couch. “I’m craving something a little more addictive… something that will let me give you a little bit of a high.” He took another puff while his eyes slid down my body, stopping decisively right between my thighs.
I stood back up. Moment of fucking truth. Our eyes met and he blew out smoke slowly in my direction, the oddly sweet smell sticking in my nose.
Here I was giving him shit for doing recreational drugs when I was the one completely addicted to the hard stuff; I was completely addicted to him.
Hooking my thumb in the elastic waist of the black yoga pants, I licked my lips. “What do you want, Chance?”
“Your pussy. Fucking my mouth.”
With one motion, I slipped the leggings to the floor. I blamed my rush to leave this house this morning, too surprised by his offer to help me, as the reason I wasn’t wearing anything underneath them.
“Fuck,” he growled, staring at my bare and swollen sex that peeked out from beneath the sweatshirt that I was wearing
He dropped the blunt on a coaster on the coffee table. Finally tearing his eyes upwards, he glared at me, waiting for his replacement drug.
“Top off.” My tits perked up as he licked his lips, and I wiggled out of the layers that I had on.
Now, he had a fully-illuminated view of my tattoos. Again, I kept my elbow tucked in at my side, hiding the only one I couldn’t explain right now.
I bit back a curse, taking notice of the huge bulge in his pants as I climbed over him on the couch.
Strangely, we were both in the same situation—wanting each other with a need that wasn’t able to be suppressed. It pulled us together in spite of our past. It pushed us to admit things that had the power to destroy us. And worst of all, it brought to the surface feelings that I was afraid I’d never feel again.
What we had was a force of nature—something that neither of us could stop or outrun.
And, if I was honest, my heart stopped wanting to protect itself from the moment it felt him again.
Bending over him, my hands clasped the armrest that was just past his head. Before I could begin to scoot up, his head reached up and bit my nipple.
“That,” I gasped, feeling my sex clench all the way up into my stomach, “was not what you asked for…”
The moan that punctuated my statement must have been really convincing to how upset I was. His response? He bit my tit before pulling it hard into his mouth. Small fireworks went off in my brain—the kind that would give me a stroke and yet I could care less. And then I felt the first touch of his fingers in my folds, slipping easily between them to find my clit, the t
iny, tight bundle of nerves.
I hated how he could be so calm, lying under me while his mouth and his hand systematically pulled my body apart piece by piece.
“Why the Fool?” His voice was raspy and guttural. He didn’t want to ask. He wanted to have his mouth on me, but he needed to know. A conversation for another time when my body didn’t feel like there was a time-bomb ticking down.
“B-because I’m searching,” I said, my whole body shaking over him. “I’m searching for my future in my past.”
“On my face, J-bird. Now.” My eyes flew open, meeting his fevered gaze. His calm was a veneer that was holding back a barely restrained desire. “This is my drug,” his fingers pinched my clit and I choked as desire shot through me, “and I want you to fuck my tongue until I overdose.”
Gulp.
Muscles quaking with need, I awkwardly slid up his body, knees on either side of his head, I lowered my sex onto his waiting mouth.
I felt him suck in the air between us, overwhelming himself with my scent. His groan overpowered mine at the first touch of his tongue on my bare pussy. His fingers found the grooves that they made in my hips last night, holding me steady as his tongue swept along the length of my slit—from my clit to my sopping entrance that was aching for him.
With a hungry growl, he latched onto me and sucked. I moaned as my lower body bowed against him, the tiny bud desperate for more. My body was running on high from last night and the suction of his mouth was too much. Oh God. I shook uncontrollably.
Vaguely I heard but definitely felt him murmur things into my sex—like how good I tasted, how I belonged to him, and how I was so perfectly tight and wet for him all the time.
And like oil that has been left on a hot flame for too long, I exploded into flames. My head tipped back as I lost control over my body, rolling and grinding my pussy over his mouth. My needy actions spurred him on as his tongue rained down on my clit.
Enjoy the Ride (Winter Games Book 3) Page 20
