by Jewel E. Ann
Her eyes perused his body then a giggle escaped as she homed in on his shirt. “Eat Local.” She bit her lip, glassy eyes meeting his gaze. “I’m local.”
Jackson found the deep, uninhibited tone of her voice to be quite sexy.
“Miss Middleton, are you drunk?”
Twisting her lips, she shook her head twice. After a few seconds she narrowed her eyes and nodded as if her thoughts couldn’t keep up with her body. “A bit, I’d say.”
“Keys.” He held out his hand.
“I love that you’re younger than me, yet more responsible.” She handed him her keys.
Ryn lost her brother in a drunk driving accident. He knew she’d give him the keys without question. “Come on. I’ll drive you home.” He took her hand and led her to her car.
“I love it when you hold my hand. People don’t do that much these days. Everyone’s too busy texting or holding their phones to their ears to pay attention to the people around them.”
He helped her in then got in the driver’s side. “I agree,” he said.
“You do? Aww … see you’re not too young for me after all. If I said the same thing to Maddie she’d tell me something like ‘holding hands is for old people.’ It seems like kids these days are either texting each other from across the table or practically screwing each other on the dance floor of some club.”
Jackson chuckled as they pulled out of the development. He’d been on those dance floors many times, and they usually led to a bathroom, back alley, or backseat fuck before he went home alone. But Ryn was different, he was different. That Jude guy died and there was no reason to wake the dead.
“Greta is hilarious and she has a huge crush on you. God, I hope I have half her spunkiness when I’m her age. She must have ordered one of everything from that catalog. I think she’s secretly trying to kill her husband so she can ride off into the sunset with you and your Woody.” Ryn giggled. “Did I mention that was the best Sangria I’ve ever had?”
Jackson smiled. Ryn’s random chattiness made her a fun drunk, although she seemed just a bit tipsy as her words were not slurred enough for it to be considered drunken babble.
“Did you buy anything?” Jackson asked as he pulled into her driveway.
She turned, wearing a tightlipped grin and a playful sparkle in her eyes. “I did.” Her brow furrowed. “Hmm … the funny thing is I can’t remember for sure what I did get.” She shrugged then eased out of the car.
Since she’d left him painfully turned-on after his shower earlier that night, his need to be with her felt urgent. However, her butt-clenching text had him second guessing where their relationship was headed.
“I really appreciate you going to Greta’s party tonight.” He stopped at her door, hands in his back pockets as she stepped inside.
Her eyes were all over him as she wet her lips. “Aren’t you coming inside?”
A great question.
A sly sexy grin pulled at her lips. “Are you still standing on my porch because of the text?”
The confirmation that it wasn’t a drunken text didn’t help ease his apprehension.
“I … I have an early lesson in the morning and I didn’t run today so I need to get that done first thing tomorrow.”
She raised a single brow. “You drove my car. How are you going to get home?”
Another great question.
“Do you have to work in the morning?”
She nodded.
“I’ll walk. It’s not really that far.”
Ryn sighed. “If I were like … twenty minutes more sober, I don’t think I’d say this, but I’m not there yet so I’m going to tell you. I bought new lingerie: a black lacy bra and a matching thong—the kind I don’t have to hide in my refrigerator.”
A confident Ryn in black lingerie had a good chance of blocking out the vision of her kinky alter ego in a strap-on penis acting out some fucked-up m/m fantasy. He stepped inside and shut the door behind him.
Chapter Nineteen
Even under the lightly numbing veil of Sangria, Ryn felt something so different about the way Jackson looked at her. His eyes filled with desire and something else. That something else happened in the extra few seconds his gaze lingered before he touched her. It felt as though he disappeared and in the next breath when he returned, his face lit up with an emotion that looked like gratitude. But for what?
Her nerves were a ticking clock so she took his hand and led him upstairs, commanding Gunner to stay downstairs. When she released his hand and turned, he leaned against the shut door, arms crossed over his chest. The heat in his eyes lit a fire in her belly and a bit lower too.
“Let me see everywhere you don’t have a tattoo.”
His words could not have been more sobering, evaporating any residual alcohol from her bloodstream.
“I-I don’t have any tattoos.”
“Show me.”
Her shirt had stayed on when he fucked her against the refrigerator. Maybe the lingerie statement had been misleading. She imagined them in her bed, under the covers, lights off.
Motioning to the wall next to him, she nodded. “Shut the light off.”
A clenching, nauseating feeling knotted in her stomach as he shook his head.
“I’m … well … I’m ten years older than you and my body shows it. And you …” She wrung her hands together feeling an inch tall for being so self-conscious. Jackson Knight wasn’t just ten years younger, he represented the pinnacle of physical perfection at any age.
“On our first date I told you someday I’d tell you what makes a man sexy. Remember?”
She nodded. Her reference that day was to him. The point being that nothing made him that way … he just simply was sexy.
“Take your clothes off and I’ll show you that what makes me sexy in your eyes is the desire you see in mine.”
After a deep breath, she fought through her insecurities and unbuttoned her blouse with shaky hands. He just stood there, watching her undress, watching her fall apart from the inside out. One man made her feel like a hundred sets of eyes seeing her in her most vulnerable state.
Shirt. Skirt. Borderline tears.
But tears weren’t sexy. Never had a guy asked her to strip for him. She wanted to be sexy, confident, and worthy of that look in his eyes.
“Keep going.”
Even her lips quivered as she bit them together and nodded once.
Thong. Knees ready to give out.
Bra. Eyes cast downward, blinking back tears of fear.
His feet came into view as she held her breath.
“Look at me.”
One agonizing inch at a time she lifted her chin. That look, that something, met her gaze.
“That desire in my eyes … it’s you.”
It was a dream. One she hoped to believe someday.
“Now take off my clothes.”
Standing, even just breathing, proved to be difficult. Undressing him felt impossible.
“Why me?” she whispered with raw honesty.
He tipped her chin up with his finger then brushed his thumb along her lower lip. “Because you matter.”
What did that mean? Had no one mattered before her? Impossible.
His hand dropped back to his side and he waited.
Her.
He wanted her to undress him. He wanted to be with her … inside her. Only in a dream. It had to be a dream. She wanted to close her eyes and not wake up.
He helped her remove his shirt. She took a moment to stare then her shaky hands unfastened his jeans. His erection strained against his briefs.
Ryn swallowed hard before easing down his pants. He toed off his shoes and stepped out of his jeans. Kneeling at his feet, she stole another breath of courage and reached up to remove his briefs. He threaded his fingers through her hair. It was a simple yet sensual gesture that sent a heavy pulsing sensation to settle between her legs.
Resting her palms on his hard quad muscles, she rose up on her knees. His grip on her
hair tightened. It had been a long time since she’d trusted a man with every piece of her vulnerability.
“Open.” He let go of her hair with one hand while gently tugging her head back with the other.
She opened, but only from the shock that he said that to her. It wasn’t a question or even request. It was a demand. He looked down at her with dark, hooded eyes as he fisted the base of his cock, guiding it into her mouth. He teased it against her tongue until she took over. Bringing both hands back into her hair, he held it back to see her face as he made gentle thrusts.
“Touch yourself.”
It was official. She was in over her head and sinking deeper with every word that fell from his lips. Kneeling in front of him with his cock in her mouth, it was a little late to turn back. The most surprising part: she didn’t want to stop.
“Ryn.” It came out with an edge of warning, a side to Jackson she hadn’t seen. She liked it. A lot.
The uncontrolled moan she released while sliding two fingers over her clitoris, drew a painful “fuck” from him. With a groan, he pushed a little deeper toward her throat. The tightening grip on her hair revealed his teetering control. He grabbed her arms and pulled her up. The wild look in his eyes showed more than a slip of control.
He shoved her down onto the bed, plunging her heart into her throat. Who was this guy and why was she so turned on by his Jekyll and Hyde transformation?
“Spread your legs.”
Please didn’t seem to be in his vocabulary and no wasn’t in hers. After retrieving a condom from his pants, he rolled it on, his eyes giving her a challenging look that dared her to do anything but what he asked.
Pushing her knees back until they nearly touched her ears, he buried his face between her legs, eliciting a scream from someone. It couldn’t have been her. Ryn Middleton did not scream during sex … not ever.
Jackson became the ultimate sex toy, crawling up her body, sinking into her, and taking her to a whole new world. The woman beneath him, moaning, begging, and digging her nails into the flesh of his toned ass, was one lucky, lucky girl. After seeing stars, she sucked her lower lip into her mouth as he collapsed on top of her.
Breathing was overrated.
“Fuck forty.” He teased his teeth along her shoulder.
She chuckled between labored breaths. “I think you just did.”
*
Jude Day wasn’t used to fucking women in a bed. He wasn’t familiar with words beyond “goodnight” after zipping his fly and walking away from a random act of selfish pleasure. Taking Ryn against her refrigerator felt familiar to Jackson. It had a spontaneous feel to it, even though he stayed for dinner and he did see her again—very un-Jude. However, lying next to Ryn in her bed with the entire night ahead of them left Jackson in uncharted territory.
“I should go.” He kissed his way down her neck, palming her ass with one hand and squeezing her breast with his other.
“Okay,” she answered in a breathy voice.
An out. She gave him an easy out.
No begging. No pouting. No clinging.
The woman proved to be nothing short of a dream. The perfect mixture of maturity and vulnerability. She gave him the option to leave without a guilt trip, and the sultry way her eyes moved over his body felt like an open invitation to come back and do it again and again. The perfect situation. So why didn’t he want to leave? What the hell was wrong with him?
“Or … I could stay.” Sucking her nipple into his mouth, he tugged at it with his teeth until her back arched off the bed.
“Oh God …”
Ryn’s soft moan had him hard again. His bout of celibacy left him uncharacteristically needy for sex, or maybe it was her. No woman had ever made him feel so insatiable. Every inch of her tasted divine. He couldn’t stop sucking and lapping his tongue over her breasts as two of his fingers slid between her slick folds.
A distant voice from his past reprimanded him for being such a pussy as he fingered her to another orgasm, aiming only to pleasure her. She clawed at his back then tugged his hair, another foreign sensation. Jude sported a shaved head. He never knew a woman’s death grip on his hair could make his dick pulse. Jackson would keep his pain-in-the-ass hair because his dick rather liked the connection.
Ryn’s body writhed beneath his. “Jackson!”
After he removed his fingers, her eyes fluttered open and he released her nipple. She looked down at the teeth marks he left as a souvenir. “That’s a first.”
“Yeah?” He kissed the bite marks and grinned. “Well it won’t be the last.”
Ryn pulled the sheet up over her chest and bit her lips together. “So … I’ll see you Tuesday?”
That old voice told him to get his pathetic ass up and say something to ensure he’d leave with both balls intact.
“Tuesday.” He nodded then rolled out of bed and dressed without making eye contact. Tuesday, next week, next month … it should not have mattered. Yet, it did matter. It mattered like a sucker punch to his junk.
*
Ryn made it to her 6:00 a.m. barre class the next morning. The sexiest man alive groping her body—her soft parts that needed to be firmed up—served as the greatest incentive ever to feel the burn. Being with Jackson flooded her brain with a mind-fuck of emotions. Every time he touched her it brought on a war between unfathomable desire—the incredible feeling of being desired—and the insecurities that had been ingrained in her about her body, her age, her ability to please a man. Did he think she needed to lose weight, exercise more, get that boob job she’d thought about for years?
After class she went for coffee with her instructor, Val. She was a year older than Ryn, recently divorced. Val was the closest thing Ryn had to a female friend, who also qualified as a confidant.
“You seemed possessed during class today.” Val gave her a Cheshire cat grin over the rim of her coffee cup.
Ryn couldn’t hide her guilty smile. “I’ve been seeing a guy.”
“Go on.” Val rested her arms on the table and leaned in giving Ryn her full attention.
“He’s ten years younger than me.”
Val’s eyes bugged out. “Ryn! Oh my God. Do tell. Who? What? Where? When?”
“I work for him. I’m sure I should have some rule against that, huh? But I’m self-employed and it’s never been an issue or even a possibility before now. He’s kind, and funny, and he plays the piano … like he can seriously play the piano. But he’s also a god, Val. I’m talking celebrity-sports star-fitness model god. It’s not that I have some awful self-esteem, but if you saw this guy you’d understand. I have no idea why he’s interested in me … in that way. I feel like I’m having my own Shallow Hal moment. You know, like he’s looking at me but seeing what he wants to see and it’s just an illusion.”
“Ryn—”
“Don’t.” She shook her head. “I need you to be my forty-something friend. I don’t need you to give me a self-esteem boost. I’m not saying I think I’m ugly or lacking in all sex appeal. I’m just being realistic. I love ice skating and I’m pretty good at it, but I’m never going to make the Olympic team. Do you get what I’m saying?”
Val squinted a bit. “This guy is the gold medal of guys?”
“Exactly.”
“Have you had …” Val wiggled her brows.
Ryn blushed. “Yes. Oh. My. God. Yes.”
“And?”
Ryn laughed. “Back to the Olympic scenario … if sex were an event. He’d take the gold.”
“I hate you.” Val shook her head.
“You should.” Ryn sighed. “I think there is a long line of women who hate me. Hell, I’m jealous of myself. I just know someone is going to shake me, and when I wake I’m going to be so pissed it was all just a dream.”
“So he’s a god. The sex is award-winning. Yet I get this vibe that something’s wrong.”
She chewed the corner of her lower lip and nodded. “It’s the age thing, but not like I’m going to break a hip during sex. Al
though his stamina is—”
“Yada yada … he’s a fucking stallion. I get it.” Val rolled her eyes.
Ryn chuckled. “Anyway, he lived a cavalier life before he moved to Omaha, but now he’s looking for something different.”
“A mature woman?”
With a twist of her lips, she shook her head. “A wife—a child-bearing wife.”
Val’s eyes grew wide as she mouthed Oh.
“Yeah. This is so messed up. When we’re together I can’t stop wondering if he’s attracted to me or my maturity and child-bearing hips.”
“I thought you had a C-section with Maddie.”
“You know what I mean.”
Val laughed for a moment then it fizzled when she looked at the true concern on Ryn’s face. “Is it really about believing he could be genuinely attracted to you, or are you not wanting the same thing? I have two teenagers and I can’t imagine starting that all over again—nursing, diapers, sleep deprivation.”
Ryn rested her chin in her fist and nodded slowly. “It’s everything. My hormones are all over the place. I don’t even know if I could get pregnant. And if I did, can you imagine what a monster I’d be with even more hormones coursing through my veins? And you’re right, there’s the new-mom thing. At one point I dreamed of more children with a man who loved me, but I think over the past few years that dream disappeared, and now I don’t know if it still exists.” She laughed. “But really … it’s all so insane because I’ve known him for less than two months. He’s mysterious, unpredictable, and I’m so far out of my comfort zone I can’t think straight when we’re together.”
Val shrugged. “You’re in your sexual prime. Go for it.”
“In less than ten years he’ll leave me because my female parts will be all dry and shriveled up. And the crazy part is I wouldn’t blame him because the guy was made to …”
Val perked a single brow. “Made to … fuck?”
Ryn smiled. “I think so. I’m not even sure he’s wired for monogamy. It would be like Secretariat being a circus pony—all that wasted potential.”
