by Sarah Peis
The kiss broke, and we were both breathing hard. He had lost his shirt at some point, and by the way I was clutching the fabric in my hand, it must have been me who had ripped it off. I released the shirt and placed my hands on his chest. I was tentative at first, but when he smiled a crooked smile at me and shuddered at the contact, I gained confidence.
I travelled lower, feeling each ridge and bump of his abs along the way. When my greedy fingers met his jeans, I stopped and looked at him, silently asking for permission. He nodded, and my hand roamed further, undoing his button and sliding inside. My eyes went wide when I felt him. The rumors were true, thank you blessed donut god.
He groaned when my hand squeezed him gently, and the low rumble sent tingles up my body. I didn’t know it could be like this. He moved down, and my hand slipped out of his pants and back up his side to come to a stop at his arms.
I loved the definition and hardness, relished in this glorious moment where I got to touch him so freely. And touch him I did.
“Promise me you’re not going to regret this,” Jameson said, his breath hot on my belly.
There was no way I would be able to form a coherent sentence while he was kissing his way down my body, so I sighed instead.
He stopped, and I squeaked in protest. He looked up. “Willa, promise me.”
I bit my lip and nodded. He didn’t seem convinced at my half-assed nod. “I need to hear you say it.”
My breath was still heavy, my blood rushing through my head, making it hard to think, let alone talk. “I promise,” I whispered, my body aching to get his touch back. Blessed be all hot sex gods, the two words seemed to be enough for him to continue on his path.
And continue he did until he found his destination and his tongue invaded my hot center. He added a finger, and I nearly combusted. The man was skilled, but I would have expected nothing less. Practice makes perfect and all that.
It took me about three seconds to combust and see stars. Those fingers were magic, and his tongue needed a special place in heaven. I could be embarrassed about how quick I went off, but that would require my brain to function.
He kissed his way back up my body, leaving a blazing trail in his wake. A girl could get used to this.
When he kissed the spot behind my ear, I couldn’t suppress the shiver and moan. That had never happened. I was addicted and desperate to feel him inside me.
“I need you.” My voice didn’t sound like it belonged to me, and my body seemed to have a mind of its own. Before I could make bad decisions and regret this day worse than I knew I already would, Jameson reached inside his nightstand. The crinkle of a foil paper told me he was being forever levelheaded and wondered how he could have such an effect on me while he seemed completely in control.
He pushed inside, slowly, and my body welcomed him with open legs. I pushed up to get closer, and Jameson stilled.
He was panting hard, and if the pinched brows and thin mouth were any indication, he didn’t look like he was having as much fun as I was right now.
“Did I do something wrong?” I asked, the thought that he wasn’t really into this hit me like a bucket of water.
He looked down, and his face softened immediately. “Nothing is wrong. You are perfect. This is perfect. And I want it to last, but I don’t think I can. Not when you keep moving like that.”
I grinned at him and moved again while I pulled him back and pressed my mouth to his. I felt his smile and took that as full steam ahead. Instead of him leading, I rolled him over until he was on his back and I was straddling his hips. I sat up, admiring the view, and licked my lips.
“You’re really making this hard for me.”
I wiggled my brows at him. “Good, because otherwise this wouldn’t work.”
He chuckled, and I felt the vibrations inside my body. When I started to move slowly up and down, he gripped my hips. He guided me, slow at first and then quicker and deeper. I didn’t think it was possible, but my body exploded a second time, and Jameson was right behind me. My limbs refused to function any longer, and I collapsed on his chest.
My mind stilled, and I soaked it all in, savoring each breath I got to take on his glorious chest. I memorized every caress of his hand on my back, every little kiss he placed on my head, cheek, nose, and neck.
We stayed like that, neither one of us saying anything while Jameson continued his lazy strokes and I snuggled in as close as I could get. There was plenty of time for regret later. For now I was in a Jameson fog and happier than I ever remembered being.
Instead of trying to get rid of me like I expected, he gently placed me down next to him and went to the bathroom to clean up. I didn’t know if I should stay or go but the question was answered for me when he came back and lifted me half on top of him, our limbs intertwined, and pulled a blanket over our bodies.
I guess I was taking a nap in the middle of the day.
I woke up with a start. My limbs screamed in protest when I tried to move. I didn’t drink last night, but I was feeling sore. My brain finally caught up when I noticed an arm around my middle. Jameson was pressed up against my back, making a silent escape impossible.
It also reminded me about yesterday. And last night. But why was I still here? He was also known for kicking his hookups out the door as soon as the sun came up. The sun was up, yet here I was.
A glance at the digital clock on his nightstand confirmed it was nearly eight in the morning. Things promised to get awkward if he woke up and still found me in his bed. Maybe if I wiggled out from underneath him, he would never know that I spent the night.
After we finally made it back to the garage yesterday afternoon, I buried myself in work and ignored the guys who seemed to come into the office more than usual. They claimed they needed coffee. Or food from the kitchen. Or a mop, which I knew was a lie because I’ve never once seen them mop the floor.
And every time they walked past they made sure to waggle their eyebrows at me. So I did what any sane woman would do, and for every creepy eye movement, I threw a pen at them.
Things got even weirder when Jameson came in at five and asked me what I wanted for dinner. I was so freaked out that I mumbled incoherently, and he understood that to mean pizza. Before I knew what was happening, I found myself sitting on his couch, watching a renovation show and eating pizza.
I must have passed out somewhere around the bathroom renovation because I was dreaming of giant sinks coming after me.
This brought me to my current dilemma of finding myself in Jameson’s bed without any recollection of how I got there.
I held on to the edge of the mattress and tried to pull myself out from underneath him. His arm was holding on to me as if I were a six-inch sub, and no matter how hard I wiggled, he wasn’t budging.
I would have to remove his death grip first. I released the mattress I had used to pull away and gripped his hand that immediately curled around mine. I lifted it off me, the strategy successful when he let go of my body.
What I didn’t plan on was him now holding on to my hand. I moved out of his embrace an exact two millimeters before I started huffing at the effort. He was heavy and not moving. He was also holding my hand, which was now resting on my hip, making it hard to get anywhere unless I had the ability to dislocate my shoulder.
I sank back into the mattress, at a loss of what to do. My options at this stage were limited. If I was being honest with myself, I more than enjoyed nearly being crushed by Jameson. He was like a warm, safe, delicious-smelling cocoon. Initial panic at waking up in his bed over, I decided to allow myself a few more minutes before I faced reality. My body sagged back against his, and I prayed he would stay asleep.
“That’s better,” he muttered into my ear, and I went tense all over again. That bastard was awake. He pulled me impossibly closer and kissed my head. “Stop wiggling.”
“I need to go,” I forced out, glad I wasn’t stuttering.
“It’s Sunday.” As if that explained everything.
> “I have to water my plants.”
“Do it later.”
Of course, I didn’t shut up. Sometimes I really wasn’t sure how I made it through life. “They are on a watering schedule. The next round is due at eleven.” Oh, please someone stop me from talking.
Jameson must have thought the same because I found myself on my back, Jameson hovering above me. “Stop panicking.”
“I’m not panicking.”
“You are the queen of panic. And I can tell by your crazy eyes that you are one eye roll away from breaking out into a mad cackle.”
“I don’t cackle.”
“Babe.”
My eyes stopped rolling, and instead I stared straight at Jameson. He had called me babe. I’d never been anyone’s babe. I bit my lip to stop myself from saying anything. Must. Not. Ruin. The. Moment. A moment I would remember until I was lying cold and dead in my grave.
He kissed my nose. My nose! And then the corner of my mouth. Why hadn’t he kicked me out yet?
“Stay. Please.” His plea was followed by another kiss, this time on my neck. I shivered. The bulge on my stomach told me that he was happy to see me. Not sure my vagina could handle it.
He placed a gentle kiss on my mouth and looked at me. All I could do was stare. Things like this didn’t happen to me. I had the worst luck out of anyone I knew. Not once had I won anything, got a green light when I needed it, or caught the full coffee cup before it hit the floor. But all that seemed insignificant if it meant Jameson continued to look at me like he did at this moment. With reverence. Like I was precious to him.
“Spend the day with me.”
His request threw me for a loop. This version of Jameson was dangerous. It was making me have warm and fuzzy feelings. I wanted to throw my arms around his neck and shout yes. But that would be impossible, not only because my arms were pinned to my side but also because then he’d realize what a nutcase I really was.
I was helpless to do anything but put a big goofy smile on my face and nod like a bobble head. His face lit up with an adorable grin, and he leaned down to kiss my lips. Once. Twice. Featherlight kisses that made me starved for more. Instead of deepening the kiss, he sat up.
I whimpered at the loss of his body but forgot all about it as soon as he smiled his crooked smile at me. He took my hand and helped me up until I was perched on the side of the bed, sheet in a death grip, a naked Jameson in front of me.
“Let’s shower,” he said and winked at me. There was no way I was getting in the shower with him. My body wasn’t perfect, not by a long shot, and I had indulged in cupcakes way more than was healthy for my butt lately. Especially since he looked like a fucking Greek god. And, well, I did not. Look like a Greek goddess that is.
The point being, I was so not getting out of bed until he was safely tucked away in the bathroom.
”You can shower first,” I said, not looking at him, hoping he’d get the hint.
I should have known better than to think I’d get away with hiding. He tugged on the sheet I had wrapped myself in. I clutched it tighter. He took my arm to help me up; I shuffled back.
He must have thought it was time to bring out the big guns because he smiled his damn irresistible smile at me. “It’s a big shower. There’s room for two.”
I lowered my head to avoid his stupid sexy smile and to tell him that I was fine and he could go ahead and shower when my eyes got stuck along the way. He was naked, and his body was a work of perfection. And his cock was obviously excited to see me. Oh my. I licked my lips and swallowed. I never thought I’d say this, but there wasn’t a part of his body that wasn’t attractive.
“I…,” I started but wasn’t sure anymore what I wanted to say. All I could think was if I leaned forward a little, I could lick him. Just one little lick. Just to taste him.
He used my distraction against me, and the sheet was ripped away and I found myself lifted up into the air.
“What are you doing?” I shrieked, holding on for dear life.
He carried me into the shower bridal style and sat me down on the counter next to the sink. “Don’t move.”
“But I can’t take a shower with you,” I sputtered.
He turned the water on and came back. His hands were on either side of my hips, making an escape once again impossible. “We both need a shower. Let’s save water and take it together.”
He lifted me up again and placed me in the shower. I stood on shaky legs, something that seemed to happen a lot around him, and stepped under the spray. The warm water felt great on my sore muscles, and his showerhead was huge. There would be no taking turns, because we could both fit underneath the spray. If we stood close. Jameson didn’t seem to have a problem with that and pulled me close, his hands travelling up and down my body. I sank into him and tilted my head under the spray.
My self-consciousness evaporated as soon as he started shampooing my hair and then washing my body. He occasionally stopped and told me how beautiful I was. He also stopped to place kisses all over my body.
It was safe to say I was a goner. Done. Melted. A puddle. He was too much. He lingered on my breasts, kissing and sucking each one until I was panting. He sent me over the edge when he slipped his finger inside me. It was like he flipped a switch and I went off.
He held me to him, his hands lazily trailing up and down my back, giving me a chance to get my breathing under control.
“My turn,” I declared with a smirk on my face. He handed me the soap and stood in front of me, watching my every move.
I wouldn’t miss this opportunity to explore every inch that was Jameson Drake. I had the chance to get my hands on him, and I would take it. I started on his chest and made a soapy trail down to his abs, feeling every ridge along the way. I circled around his arousal, teasing him. Once my hand closed around his shaft, he groaned, and I loved the effect I had on him. My hands weren’t enough, and I knelt down, licking the tip. His hands went into my hair. “Fuck.”
Oh yes, that was the plan. It was also all the invitation I needed, and I took him into my mouth. He was too big and long to fit fully, but whatever I couldn’t fit I covered with my hand. I circled my tongue around the tip, tasting him.
I was just getting started, but Jameson had other ideas. His thigh muscles tightened, and he growled, “Willa.” Always the gentleman, he gave me a chance to pull away, but I didn’t want to. I wanted to taste him, something I never had an interest in before. But Jameson seemed to break down all my walls and restraints. He came inside my mouth, and I swallowed every last bit.
He helped me back up and kissed me, his breathing still hard, his kiss bruising. “What are you doing to me?” he asked against my mouth.
“I don’t know, but can we do it again?” I answered, feeling too good to care that I wasn’t wearing a stitch of clothing or that I just went all hussy on him. He made me feel comfortable, cherished, and wanted.
We got out and dried off before getting dressed. Jameson held my hand on the way to the car and helped me in. He placed a kiss on my lips before closing the door. A girl could get used to this. And I definitely wasn’t going to freak out.
I totally freaked out. I overanalyzed every little movement, gesture, and word coming from Jameson. By the time we made it to the diner, I was a mess. There was no way I could eat lunch. He touched me every chance he got, held my hand, and kissed my cheek. He was attentive. He was the perfect date.
And I was not. First I spilled my soda on his lap. Then I spewed bits of food on his shirt when he asked me if I was ready to go home so he could have his dessert.
I should quit while I wasn’t completely humiliated and just go home. But Jameson didn’t seem to care about the level of crazy I had apparently reached. He carried on as if nothing had happened, wet stain on his jeans and all.
And I liked him more each time he winked at me or made a joke about his wet crotch. We were just finishing up when a busty blonde sauntered up to our table, her focus entirely on Jameson. He was like a h
oming beacon. It was fascinating to watch. I also felt a pang of something foreign in my chest, and the feeling was not welcome. It felt especially nasty when he got out of his side of the booth and greeted her with a kiss on the cheek.
“Lu-Anne.”
I could forgive him for greeting her since I was a grown up and all, but what I couldn’t forgive was the way she touched him. Hands on his chest, a chest that I had licked not too long ago. And the way she was standing entirely too close didn’t exactly stop the murderous thoughts running through my head.
“You forgot this at my place,” she purred and pulled a ball cap out of her bag.
“I was wondering where I left that,” Jameson replied and took the cap from her. “Thanks for dropping it off.”
“Mason told me you’d be here.”
“Not hard to figure out since I come here every Sunday.”
He turned away from her to get back into his seat, but she stopped him by putting a hand on his arm and pressing her ample chest to his side. “I’m free tonight,” she whispered, loud enough for me to hear and grind my teeth. Why did I ever think I would have a chance against the pussy brigade that was following him around everywhere?
“I’m here with someone.” Jameson nodded his head toward me, and pouty mouth turned her heaving breasts my way. Wowza, it would require an army to contain those monsters. A closer inspection—because who wouldn’t stare if they were thrust in your face—revealed that she didn’t seem to believe in bras. I tore my gaze away and met her eyes. She was sneering at me, and I couldn’t say I was smiling at her.
“Come over later. I’ll be home,” she said while looking at me.
Jameson sat back down and took my hand. “I’m spending the day with Willa.” Ha, in your face, balloon skank.
“Call me,” she said, still not getting the message, but at least she finally left.
I pulled my hand out of Jameson’s grip and leaned back. I may have pouted, but who could blame me? I just saw firsthand what I was up against, and it wasn’t a pretty sight. Jameson seemed unfazed.
