Still loosely holding her wrists, I lean down and kiss her gently, then nip at her bottom lip.
She draws in a sharp breath.
I lift my head and look down at her. “You like that?”
“Yes,” she whispers.
I release her hands, then sit upright. Her whimper of protest cuts off when I grab the bottom of her T-shirt. Sliding my hands behind her back, I lift her to a sitting position, putting us face-to-face, then pull her shirt over her head and toss it to the floor.
When my gaze drops to her plain beige bra, she reaches her hands up to cover her chest. “I don’t—”
“I don’t care what you’re wearing, Mary, because it’s not going to be on for longer than a few seconds anyway.” I reach behind her back and unhook her bra, then slide it down her shoulders and arms and toss it onto the floor with her shirt. I nudge her back onto the bed and hold her arms down when she tries to reach up and cover her chest.
“Oh, no,” I say with a tight laugh. “There’s no way you’re hiding those beautiful breasts.”
Her breath is coming in fast pants again as she looks up at me in anticipation.
“Is there something you want me to do, Mary?”
“I…I…”
She’s nowhere near ready to tell me what she wants. Maybe I can help get her there, but not tonight. Tonight is about showing her what I suspect she’s been missing her whole adult life.
I release her hands and cup her breasts, brushing my thumbs over her nipples, savoring the way she shivers.
“You’re a beautiful woman, Mary O’Shea, and you have gorgeous breasts.” I lean forward and capture a nipple in my mouth, teasing her with my tongue and teeth before moving to the other.
Her back arches, and she moans with abandon. If I’ve ever been this hard before, I don’t know when.
“Do you want more, Mary?” I ask, looking up at her face.
“Yes,” she pants.
I press a kiss between her breasts, then trail down her abdomen to the waistband of her leggings. Hooking my fingers under the elastic on both sides, I slowly tug it over her hips, snagging her panties too. She lifts up so I can get them down to her thighs. Then I rise from the bed and pull them off the rest of the way.
She’s lying naked on her bed, her creamy skin standing out against the sea of her beige comforter, her short red-brown hair splayed around her head in loose, lovely waves.
“You look like a painting,” I say, looking down at her from the foot of her bed.
She flushes, and her hands lift. I can see that she’s dying to cover herself.
“Don’t you dare hide yourself from me,” I growl as I pull my shirt over my head and chuck it to the floor.
Her hands flutter to her sides.
I go stock-still and watch her face. “Mary,” I say gently. “We don’t have to do this.”
She raises herself up on her elbows, her expression one of affront. This is what Mary must look like in the courtroom, laying out a case. “No!”
“No, you don’t want to do this? Or, no, don’t stop?”
“Don’t stop,” she says, looking embarrassed to admit it.
“You know you can stop this at any time,” I say. “Right?”
Her expression softens, something flickering in her eyes. “I know, Jace.”
She trusts me. So few people do anymore, and the realization tightens something in my chest. Suddenly, I find it hard to take a breath.
I crawl onto the bed next to her, then slip a hand into her glossy hair and lightly kiss her lips. Even if I’m just her rebound, I’ll take this as a gift. Though I already know that tonight won’t be enough for me.
When I pull back, she stares up at me with a questioning look, as if realizing something has shifted.
I take in the view of her naked breasts and the mound between her legs. My blood turns molten again, and I look deeply into her eyes. “I need to taste you, Mary.”
She starts to say something, then stops. Nods.
Slowly, so as not to startle her, I move to the foot of her bed and spread her legs open before I lie between them. I place a kiss on the curve of her inner thigh, then trail my way up to the junction between her thighs. With a quick flick of my tongue, I lick her sensitive spot, and she releases a surprised moan. Grinning against her, I do it again, taking my time as I experiment to see what makes her squirm and whimper.
“Jace,” she calls out in what sounds like equal parts pleasure and bewilderment. I plunge two fingers into her slick heat, and her soft sounds rise an octave. “Oh…oh…”
I lick and suck, and Mary’s writhing like I wanted, but after several minutes, I can tell something’s holding her back. Pressing a kiss to her inner thigh, I give her a moment before I ask what she wants me to do differently, but she lifts her head with tears in her eyes.
“I’m sorry.”
Pressing another kiss to her soft skin, I look up at her. “Why are you apologizing?”
“It’s just…I’m taking so long…maybe you should just…”
I slide up her body, letting my bare chest skim up her soft skin, and give her a slow, leisurely kiss. Her head falls back against the pillow, and her body relaxes beneath me. Then I lift my head and brush my finger over her full bottom lip. “I’m in no hurry. We’ve got all night, and I’m learning what you like. Just relax and don’t worry that you’re taking too long to come. I love tasting you.”
She looks up at me as though I’ve just announced I have the cure for cancer.
“Do you like what I’ve been doing?” I ask with a grin. “Do you want to offer critique?”
Her eyes fly wide. She looks horrified. “You want me to critique you?”
“Going down on you?” I tease. “If it helps. My ego can take it. Just tell me if I need to move in one direction or the other. Faster or slower. Harder or softer. I want you to feel good, Mary. So tell me if I’m getting it wrong.”
“Oh,” she says breathlessly. “You’re getting it all right.”
I grin, my chest puffing up with pride. “Good to know.” I caress her cheek. “I know you have a lot on your mind—Aidan, work, and probably a million other things. Don’t add worrying that I might get frustrated to the list, because trust me, Mary—” I give her another deep kiss. “—I’m enjoying every. Single. Minute.”
She reaches behind my head and pulls my lips back to hers, kissing me with a passion I knew was buried deep inside her. It just needed to be tapped.
I grin against her mouth, then nip her bottom lip. She makes a sound of surprised approval, and I slip my hand between her legs, stroking as I kiss my way down her body, exploring her breasts and her stomach.
Her moans have turned into rapid pants by the time I reach her mound and replace my hand with my mouth, slipping my fingers inside her.
I look up at her as her back arches. Her nipples are hard and her eyes are closed, her face luminous in an expression of pure ecstasy.
I nip her lightly, making her inhale sharply, and I lick and suck as I finger-fuck her.
Then she cries out, and I feel her tighten around my fingers as her orgasm rocks through her.
I pull out my fingers, my cock pulsing with the need to replace them, but I intend to savor every minute of tonight, so instead I kiss my way up her stomach as she recovers. Her eyes are closed, and her breasts rise and fall with her heavy breathing. They draw my attention, and I tease her nipple, smiling when I hear her moan again.
“How many times have you come in one night, Mary?” I ask, determined to give her more than she’s had before.
“Before tonight?” she asks hesitantly. Something seems off.
I freeze as what she’s saying sinks in. “You’ve never had an orgasm before just now?”
Her face and chest flush.
“But…” How is that possible? She’s been married. She has a child. Why didn’t she tell me? But of course she wouldn’t.
“Glenn is the only man…” Her voice trails off in embarrassm
ent. “And he never…”
So Glenn the Prick had never made her come.
I get off the bed.
Her eyes scan my chest before dipping lower to my shorts and my obvious hard-on. I reach into my pocket and pull out a condom package, then tug down both my shorts and my boxer briefs.
Her eyes widen as they drop to my erection.
“Do you want to stop?” I ask, praying she doesn’t tell me yes.
She shakes her head as her gaze lifts to mine. “No.”
I lie down next to her on my side and kiss her, long and deep. She reaches up and grabs my face, pulling me closer as she kisses me back, need overtaking her shyness. One of her hands finds my chest and starts to explore before halting.
I rise up on my elbow and cover her hand with my own. “Touch me, Mary.”
She averts her eyes, clearly embarrassed, but she doesn’t pull away. So I move her hand across my pecs and then down my abdomen. She resists, so I stop and look into her eyes. “If you want to touch me, touch me.”
Her hand skims down my lower abdomen, and I inhale sharply as she wraps her hand around me.
She strokes lightly at first, then becomes more sure of herself.
I’m not sure how much longer I’ll last, so I reach between her legs to make sure she’s ready for me.
Her hand freezes. “Jace. Now.”
In a mad rush, I open the package and slip on the condom. I’m about to climb between her legs and take her, but I’d bet everything I own that Glenn only fucked her missionary style. For a brief moment, I consider turning onto my back and pulling her on top, but she’s not confident enough for that yet, and I’m determined for her to not only come again, but come hard. So I turn her onto her stomach and kneel behind her, tugging her back so her knees are bent and her ass is hanging over her heels.
She looks back at me in surprise.
“Have you ever been fucked from behind, Mary?”
Her eyes widen. “No,” she croaks out.
“Do you want me to fuck you from behind?”
She doesn’t answer, so I reach around her and slip my finger between her legs, finding her sensitive spot. She moans.
“Do you want me to fuck you from behind, Mary?” I repeat, increasing the tempo.
“Oh, God. Yes.” Her voice is jagged and tight.
I reach down and guide the tip of my cock inside her.
She gasps, and I give her a second before I slip into her, inch by inch, until I’m fully seated.
“Oh, God. Jace.”
“I’m going to make you come again, Mary. I’m going to make you come hard. Do you want to come hard?”
“Yes.” Her breathless response is nearly my undoing.
I slowly slide almost all the way out, then back in. I pause to stroke between her legs before thrusting in again. And again. I pick up the pace, one hand reaching around her to rub her while the other cradles her hip. She pushes back against me, murmuring soft pleas.
Her head is cradled against a pillow, turned to the side. Strands of her hair are plastered to her damp cheeks, and she’s so damn sexy, her bare back and round ass lifted to me, the way she’s matching the pace I’m setting…
I lean over her back and keep one hand between her legs but slide the other under and reach for her breast, pinching her nipple.
She cries out in surprise and pleasure.
“Not yet, Mary,” I growl into her ear. “Don’t come yet.”
I’m pumping harder, faster, needing to be deeper, closer, needing more of her, but it’s not enough. Not nearly enough.
I can feel her tightening, poised for an orgasm. Releasing her breast, I grab her hip again, tilting her ass upward, and fuck her hard.
“Oh, God. Jace!” she cries out.
“Come for me, Mary.”
When she comes, it’s a thing of beauty, the way she totally releases all inhibition, thrusting back wildly as I pump into her.
I grab both of her hips and plunge into her, aware of nothing else but her gorgeous body beneath me still riding her orgasm. The need to have every part of her that she’s offering takes over everything.
Finally, I come, grunting as I give one last, hard thrust.
One thought comes to mind: Mary has ruined me for other women.
Chapter Sixteen
Mary
After Jace disposes of the condom, I head into the bathroom to clean up. I thought about wrapping a sheet around my body, but the way he looks at me—as if he didn’t get enough, as if he can’t—I like it. I stare at myself in the mirror, and I don’t recognize the woman I see. My cheeks are rubbed a little raw from Jace’s beard, but that’s not the real difference. There’s a new brightness to me, as if I’m Aidan’s dinosaur lamp, lit from within.
I can practically hear Molly telling me this is what a good orgasm does for a woman. Of course, she doesn’t know my secret. Only Glenn (shudder), Nicole, and Jace know. That should be embarrassing—mortifying—but…
Well, actually, it still is, but I can’t bring myself to care the way I usually would.
I don’t know what’s happening to me.
It’s like the painting on the wall cast a spell on me, the vivid red of that streak dancing into my soul, or maybe it was Jace who did that. Because he is the one who had me Googling bra and panty sets well after sunset the other night. And he is the one who made me realize that I don’t like blank walls and beige duvet covers and phones with their factory settings retained.
He is the one who made me want to dance again, and even though I’m out of shape, it felt so good, like slipping into the skin of a different Mary, one I lost somewhere along the way.
He is the one who made me realize that the world doesn’t always have to shatter in a bad way, that it can shatter in ways that send light radiating through your being and pleasure quaking through your body, down to your very molecules, in a way that makes you feel like you are at once flying and falling.
Losing control is more pleasurable than I’d ever thought it would be.
That tattoo I wanted to trace before, when I was fantasizing about him, it’s a rope attached to an anchor, the rope twining down his arm to his abdomen. No doubt something prompted him to get it, and I long to know what. There are others too—a large dragon and a compass star. And a small purple butterfly. Is that one for his nephew, Ben? Or—the thought shudders through me—a woman?
I know what he feels like inside me, the fullness of having a man that large within me, his big hands coaxing wave after wave of pleasure from me. It’s like someone’s been playing me as a guitar for years, only Jace discovered I’m really a violin. And yet, there’s so much I don’t know about him.
So much I want to know.
My gaze lands on a container of Dinorific bath bubbles sitting on the corner of the tub, and I suddenly feel dizzy.
What the heck am I doing?
I can’t start a relationship with Jace, no matter how good he makes me feel. For one thing, he’s probably not interested. I basically threw myself at him, and while I’m pretty sure he had a good time, I have to assume that 99% of single women would willingly give him their panties. Who wouldn’t want a man like that? For another, Aidan is attached to him, and it would absolutely crush him if Jace stayed away because of me. Look what happened the other day. I can’t do that to my son. I just can’t. Not after his father abandoned him. And the practical side of me, which insists on having her say, points out that I’m not technically divorced yet. I can’t be until January. There’s propriety to think of, right?
But the thought of telling Jace that we can’t do that again, when I already know it’s all I’m going to think about in whatever snatches of free time I have…
That’s when I remember Nicole’s idea.
Fuck buddy.
I’m fairly certain I can’t bring myself to say that, but maybe we could be a special kind of friends. Two consenting adults who enjoy—
Mind-blowing sex?
I think again of t
he way Jace touched me as he thrust into me, doing everything in his power to make sure that I came again, and a strange sound bursts from me.
“Mary?” he calls. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes! I’ll be right there,” I say, my cheeks going pink before my eyes.
Taking a deep breath, I leave the bathroom. I’m not sure what I expected, but he’s still in bed, the sheet only partially covering him. The sight of him makes that breath I sucked in come whooshing out, because he’s such a man, his hair mussed, his body hard and sculpted, his big manhood semihard. Such a man. There’s just no other way of saying it. And he’s in my bed.
I’m halfway there before I remember that I’m naked too. I start to lift my hands to cover my chest when he gives a slight shake of his head.
“You have nothing to be ashamed of,” he says. “You’re beautiful.”
“So are you,” I say honestly, before I can think better of it.
Feeling tentative, I lower onto the bed next to him. As if he can sense my hesitation, he doesn’t touch me. He just stays close, looking at me with those warm blue eyes like the sea in summer. Making me feel a strange longing for him, even though he’s right next to me.
“I’m not so sure I don’t have anything to be ashamed of.” I play with the edge of the beige duvet cover. Which I may very well burn after the green one arrives tomorrow.
I’ll bet Nicole would dance around the fire with me.
“Why’s that?” he asks, bringing me back into the moment.
“You know. Because I’d never…” Even now, even after what we’ve done, it’s hard to get the words out.
He reaches over and lifts my chin. I look into his eyes and am surprised by the intensity of his expression, although I’m not sure why.
“If anyone should be ashamed, it’s Glenn.”
He actually seems angry, and seeing his anger on my behalf, I can’t help it, I reach up and kiss him, savoring the firm press of his lips, the brush of his whiskers against my cheeks, and the slight nip he gives me at the end.
Jingle Bell Hell (Bad Luck Club) Page 16
