Dirty Angel (The List #2)

by N. K. Love

  Peering into the gym, I’m gifted with the welcome sight of Jax working out, sweating and topless. Yes, that’s TOPLESS.

  I’d text him to say I’d be about twenty minutes, so he must’ve left the garage door and the side gate open for me, knowing he’d be pre-occupied by then.

  Suddenly filled with motivation, I decide to run and get changed so that I can join him. I fancy a body toning workout; cardio would distract me too much from appreciating the view of Jax going hard on his full sized punch bag; inked, ripped and sweat trickling down his skin. Plus my imagination is about to put in some serious hard work and has already warmed up in the time it took me to pretty much assault myself getting dressed like a crazed woman. Not too crazy that I didn’t take a sexy minute to select something a little skimpier than I’d usually risk in public.

  Radio 1 Xtra is playing a track that’s on my running playlist; Scorcher’s “Work Get It”. It’s great for uplifting your motivation, not that that’s necessary when I have the pleasure of my gladiator before my very eyes.

  As I walk in he glances over and stops what he’s doing, steadying the flailing bag whilst he brazenly drinks me in. His expression lights me up from the inside. O-okay, so that’s my whole body warmed up now, which is remarkable considering I haven’t done a thing yet!

  Sweat is dripping from his pumped up body. I admire his heaving chest, veiny inked arms and shimmering muscles. He is truly a sight for sore eyes, or rather—after our magnificent tree sex—a sight for sore thighs.

  We exchange astute, and for some reason, scheming smiles and say nothing to each other. It’s probably because our bodies said all there was to say, with our eyes just acted as the mouthpieces.

  Returning to his bag, he pummels it with extra enthusiasm. The radio becomes the soundtrack to the preview of ‘Jax the Gladiator’ movie, exclusive for my eyes only. What a physique. Jeez, he is in the zone. After ample amounts of ogling I decide it’s time to get into my own zone, whilst taking in the glorious scenery. It’s mesmerising to watch. Seeing the shudder of his muscles as they tense and relax under the strain of his onslaught. I will never tire of seeing his incredible body.

  Almost an hour later, I’ve barely noticed how hard I’ve been working until I see the sweat glistening on my own stomach when doing my final rep of crunches. I don’t know which has worked harder, my body or my imagination.

  Watching him pushing to exert himself is such a massive turn on. Both destroying the punch bag and when we took a break from the bag to do sit ups and push ups.

  It is bad—or good—enough at 24/7, but in here when it’s just us two, I’ve allowed myself to fantasize about the endless opportunities we could explore in this room. He is oblivious to how seductive I find the noises he makes. The masculine grunts when he’s delivering more lengthy combinations, then the sound of him panting, catching his breath.

  These sounds uncontrollably catapult me to different memories of us having sex; him panting in my mouth, growling whilst burying his face in my hair, whispering dirty things in my ear.

  I watch him mop his brow with a small towel and admire the sight of sweat trickling down his amongst the crevices of his hard abs. As good as this is, it’ll never beat when he sweats whilst working out on me. I love being the cause of his sweat—and mine.

  I find myself lying motionless, in-between crunches, holding my head up with my hands. Jax starts removing his boxing gloves and glances over at me on the mat opposite by the door. Studying my face, his reaction tells me I must have ‘My turn, my turn!’ written all over it and I make no attempt to hide it—a pounding from Jax is at the forefront of my mind.

  In a delicious heartbeat, he dons his dark, sexy mask and stealthily stalks towards me, sending ripples of anticipation through me like a shockwave. He throws his gloves on the floor along the way and picks up a bigger sweat towel from the bench.

  Now he’s standing over me at my feet, breathless, sweat running down his face, which is etched with dominance. He begins to wipe the sweat from his chest and down across his abs. I look at the towel then back to his eyes and shake my head, tugging the towel out of his hands. I want him whilst we’re both dirty with sweat.

  We still don’t speak.

  Jax takes the towel off me and throws it over his shoulder. Reaching out both of his hands, which are still covered with his black protective hand-wrap, I let him pull me up in one effortless move. He bends so that we’re nose to nose, reminding me that I haven’t touched him all day. We haven’t even spoken all day either and we still haven’t. He guides me over to the weights bench and drapes the towel over the weights. Then he straddles the bench and taps the space in front of him. It’s obvious he’s purposely not talking now and he knows I won’t either. We know how stubborn we both can be so I’m all too happy to take on his challenge.

  I mirror his action so that we’re both facing each other with my thighs overlapping his. There’s hip-hop music playing on the radio in the background.

  The energy between us is tantalising. Refraining from touching me, he has a new expression on his lovely face. This is intriguing, I’ve not seen this before. I recognise it as being his version of throwing down the sexual gauntlet, offering control, seeing if I’ll try and take it.

  Running the tip of his tongue along the edge of his top teeth, he is trying to entice me into making the first move, seeing if I understand his intentions. After the last few days with him, I have no qualms about making a move. A challenge is a challenge and the fact that it’s with Jax will make victory a whole lot sweeter for me.

  Instead of diving on him like I want to, I decide to try a slower approach to last night. So I move my face forward gradually, maintaining eye contact in this tactical tug of war for lead role. His lips are slightly parted, still breathing harder than usual after his strenuous workout.

  I nudge his mouth with my lips, teasing out a reaction that doesn’t come. Gently I suck on his top lip, tasting the salty sweat from above it. He still doesn’t respond. I let my mouth play around with his. I could get used to this but that wouldn’t be very sporting of me. I know he wants me to push it, to test him by testing myself.

  That’s the thing about sticking to your comfort zone, it gets a little tedious and it’s a far cry from where the earth shattering experiences happen. I’m learning quickly that the crazy stuff happens outside of that zone, where you push yourself and then reap the rewards… Take the front seat of Jax’s 4x4 for example, that was way out of my comfort zone and it was exhilarating. I need to exploit that energy and put it to good use right now.

  I lift myself and shuffle up so that I’m straddling him instead of the bench, which brings us at eye level and gives me more control. He is intentionally leaving his arms hanging down either side of him. I’ve no idea how this is going to play out but I’m going to give it my best shot. I lean my weight forward, pushing his shoulders back so that he’s resting on the inclined section of the bench.

  I can do this, I can take control. I don’t mean careless, desperate control, like I had to with Steve. I mean careful, intense control that’s driven by my raw need for this man. All I need to do is focus on the sexual empowerment he bestows upon me every time we touch. I can do this. I can take control with Jax.

  Leaning back a little, I use the beat of the track that’s playing to swivel my hips in a horizontal figure of eight movement. We can’t help but smirk a little at each other. I feel his cock twitch under my crotch so I accentuate and press down on each turn. Like magic, he responds and his firmness strengthens beneath me.

  Now he makes his move, spreading his hands out on the tops of my thighs. Moving his thumbs underneath the legs of my gym hot pants. Massaging tiny circles in the super sensitive soft part inside my upper thighs. He knows only too well how I react to his skilful touch in this—this sweet sw-eeet spot.

  In this one subtle move he reminds me that he can undo me at will and he knows it. I thought I’d taken the control in the palm of my hand but he swif
tly turns to sand and I struggle to stop it slipping through my fingers. Miss Alter Ego isn’t impressed, she’s already down to her stockings and suspenders, planning her attack but I’m blowing it. Is that a whip she’s concealing behind her back?

  Guilty as charged, I’ve turned my head away and closed my eyes to absorb his expert touch. Pressing my lips together, I soak up his magical touch. He is teasing me—literally pushing my buttons. He stops moving his thumbs and Miss Alter Ego doesn’t waste the window of opportunity. An idea from my earlier fantasy creeps into my mind and she snatches it with both hands, dropping the whip—I knew it! Okay, looks like we’re going to run with this. Shit!

  Grabbing his hand I set to work on unwrapping it, leaving me with a long length of black wrap. He is still eyeing me suspiciously, wondering where I’m going with this. I must have a look of determination on my face as I set to work undoing his other hand next.

  Is he deciding how long he’s going to let me play at being boss? We both know that control ultimately belongs to him.

  I recognise that I’m so comfortable around him and he undoubtedly brings out my alter ego, which I didn’t think possible less than a week ago.

  No, I’m far from conceding this. I have a few spur of the moment tricks up my sleeve…

  I play around with the wrap, testing how it feels, strapping it around my own fist, pulling and figuring out the best way to do this. Come on Beth. I lean up, brazenly shelving my breasts in front of his face with nothing but my sports crop top covering them. He helplessly lets out a breath laced with a subtle groan and clears his throat to cover his tracks—too late, our silence broken and a mini victory for me.

  When I look down at him, I see he’s sucked in his bottom lip to stifle any further outburst from that ridiculously handsome face of his… I arch my eyebrow and give him a lopsided grin with a ‘when-you’ve-quite-finished?’ attitude. The sand in my palm becomes wet so that I can take back the reins from him.

  This feels good.

  Draping the length of one hand-wrap over the bar for later, I efficiently tie the end of the other one to the long barbell suspended behind him. He’s been pushing heavy weights so it’s secure. Then, as I’m somewhat winging this scenario, I sit back on his lap and take both of his wrists. I raise them up, letting them lie above his head against the padded bench. I copy my hips figure of eight movements by repeating the motion with the wrap around his wrists, weaving in and out but not tightly.

  Who’d have thought all those hours of my childhood playing ‘Nurse Taylor’ would come in useful now? My mom encouraged me from a young age to take an interest in her profession. Inevitably my dollies and teddies were always very accident prone and suffered some unthinkable injuries. I could bandage any part of the body in seconds. But Jax is—by a long stretch—my best participant ever!

  I risk another look down at him to see what he’s thinking now that it’s obvious what I’m up to. I find him smiling up at me. It’s almost as though he is proud, which is flattering.

  Once I get near the end of the long strap, I tie it in-between his wrists and then back around the barbell. I slip my finger between the material and his wrist to make sure it’s not too tight and then give the length a tug. The knots stay firm.

  Sitting back in his lap, I can’t wipe the smug grin off my face. I’m not sure if I’m more pleased that I’ve managed to do a pretty damn good job of it under the circumstances, or the fact that he has allowed me to have this control over him in the first place.

  I trust him and this spontaneous act now demonstrates how he trusts me too. It hasn’t escaped my attention that this is turning him on just as much as it is me. When he looks at me I want him to see the sultry confident woman I’m beginning to feel like… Not the excited inexperienced girl that wants to high five herself right now.

  By focussing on the satisfying bulge pressing into my crotch, I easily shed the grin and emote a much deeper warm and wanting desire. My eyes locked into his eyes has always been the key.

  Bending forward, I place my elbows on the bench, bracketing either side of his face. We still gaze into each other’s eyes, he has such incredible eyes, have I ever told him that? I need to. Jesus, I love the way he looks at me. Who knew I could feel like that so soon, least of all with Jax? Not so long ago, a look as intense as the one he’s giving me now would’ve had me crumbling into a hot mess, running for the hills. Now, like an addiction, I harness our sexual chemistry and absolutely thrive off it.

  Miss Alter Ego uses these few seconds to finalise a plan.

  I kiss his face tenderly, everywhere but his mouth. Grazing my teeth along his jaw, I reach his ear and nibble on his earlobe. I want to tell him in a whisper how I’m going to swallow him as deep as I can and let my mouth ride his cock. The very thought has me biting down harder than intended. Cheek to cheek, I intentionally take a few shaky breaths in and out of my mouth, beside his ear. Jax licks his thick lips slowly.

  Ready to resume, I lick away the salty sweat from his forehead. He watches me run my tongue along my wet lips, tasting the hard work he’s just put in. Moving to his mouth, I kiss him hard. There’s no doubt that right now I own his mouth. I’m in full control.

  My tongue dominates his, stroking and tasting, speaking volumes whilst invading his mouth. I feel him tug on the wrap and I know for certain that he wants to dive his hands into my hair and take hold of my face to enforce his power over me.

  I pull my face away slightly but he magnetically raises his head to follow me. Jax growls in my mouth and it resonates by way of a tugging sensation from my stomach straight down to my pussy. I’m still spread open with my legs astride him and my underwear is already wet through. His tone is so erotic, with a hint of frustration. He always calls the shots so this situation is equally new to him as it is to me.

  Maybe that’s why that one carnal sound alone typifies the very reason this scene feels so right; by tying him up, I’ve set myself free.

  Jax mastered how to make me submit to my body’s desires the first time we had sex. For that, I will be eternally grateful. I’m not just comfortable letting go when Jax is in control, I crave it. I would even consider myself subservient to him. I happily obey him in the bedroom, the car, the woodland—anywhere.

  Perhaps that makes me a selfish lover because I like to relinquish responsibility over to him. It’s the Jax Effect he has over me. Letting go with him means that there’s no pressure for me to think or make choices or considerations… It gives me total permission to do nothing but feel.

  As amazing as that is, I also know that I can flip and take charge when I feel driven. I can take control of the reins myself, just like when I went down on him on his balcony. I wanted him to feel the sort of pleasure he’d given me. Or when I masturbated in his car. I needed him to see what wanting him does to me.

  But this right here… this is challenging. It’s different because not only have I taken the reins but by tying him up I’m making the clear statement that I want him to accept whatever it is I want to do to his body. I know Jax enough to know that this is unchartered territory for him so that makes two of us. I’m as close as I can be to being on a level playing field with Jax, almost sexual equals—whilst he’s tied up anyway.

  I’m free to do as I please and I don’t intend to waste another sexual second.

  Jax thrusts his pelvis upwards so I can feel his erection press harder between my legs. I gasp into his mouth, triggering us to deepen our kiss and I ground myself down relieving and feeding some of the sparks between us.

  Pulling away, I bite harshly on his bottom lip, dragging it out. This has rapidly become like a signature move with Jax. I suck his lip gently before letting go to kiss away the sting.

  Standing upright, I take a step back. This is the most nerve-racking thing I’ve done before but I’m holding it together so far. I’ve got to keep it simple; my need to satisfy us intimately far outweighs my nerves. It’s showtime…

  Crossing my arms over my chest, I gr
ab the bottom of the crop top and intentionally remove it slowly. Releasing my bare breasts, the top covers my face then gradually I pull it up over my fully raised arms. Dropping it to the floor, I undo my hair tie. I throw my head back and run my fingers through my hair whilst arching my back. This stretches my muscles so I let out a purposefully filthy “Mmmm” moan.

  I know this position is pushing my chest out so I rock a little from side to side, forcing my tits to sway. Without looking I know my sensitive nipples have budded hard, proudly drawing attention to themselves. If his hands weren’t tied he’d never be able to resist reaching out. As much as I’d love that too, I’m relishing being the boss. All he can do is watch and feel. I think about the song I lap danced to and true to the words we are trading places. It’s my turn to tease and control.

  I trail my fingertips down the length of my neck, glide smoothly over my full breasts and find my peaked nipples. I stroke and squeeze, whilst mirroring him by sucking in my bottom lip.

  I’m watching him watching me and it’s so fucking hot.