Jack & Sadie

by JB Salsbury

  All too soon, he pulls back, his eyelids low, and checks with me again. “Okay?”

  “Yes,” I say, my voice deeper than normal. I shift my legs, and this time, I lean into him, tilting my head, pressing my mouth to his.

  I watch his eyes flutter closed, feel his hands clench the blanket covering my legs, but he’s still cautious and doesn’t touch me.

  I run through a checklist of how I’m feeling—steady pulse, clear airways, mind in the moment. I’m good.

  Better than good.

  I want more.

  Tossing the blanket aside, I crawl onto Jack’s lap, straddling his thighs and running my hands through his hair.

  He gasps, “You sure?” seconds before I press my mouth to his.

  I’ve always wondered what people meant when they said falling into the arms of someone you love feels like coming home. I get it now.

  The familiar way our mouths fuse together, his comforting touch that grips my hips softly as he pulls me closer to fit our bodies together. As if no time had been lost between us, we kiss with an abandon I haven’t felt in years. His silky hair slips through my fingers, reminding me of the way he used to moan when I’d rake my nails along his scalp.

  “Still okay?” he whispers while he dodges my efforts to chase down his lips. He chuckles softly. “I’m going to assume your answer is yes, but I need to hear you say it.”

  I pull back enough to get his eyes. “Yes.” I roll my hips against his and he drops his gaze to the point of friction between us. He sucks his bottom lip into his mouth. “I’m fine. I promise I’ll let you know if things get uncomfortable.”

  His eyes are back on mine, full of compassion. “You promise? Because I’m going to do my best to go slow, but you know that has never been easy for me when I’m with you.”

  “Promise,” I say against his lips then drag the tip of my tongue along the seam of his mouth. “Open.”

  The word is barely out of my mouth when he dives back into a deep kiss that sends chills all over my skin. Jack was always a fierce yet conscientious lover, more in tune with my body during the throes of passion than I ever was. He licks into my mouth with a gentle urgency that has me leaning in to pin him in place with my body.

  His head falls back, his thick muscular neck open and begging for my mouth. I kiss down his jaw to his throat. The soft skin combined with the harsh scratch of his beard growth is delicious. The scent of his cologne is stronger here, and I lick up to his earlobe, breathing him in the entire way.

  “You smell so good.”

  His hands clench against my hips and a flutter of panic reminds me to stay present. I can’t get lost in his touch. Not yet. The last thing I want to do is scare him away by having a complete mental breakdown during our first make-out after all those years apart.

  I am in charge.

  I have control.

  Jack is not Fabian.

  We make out for a while, me repeating my mantra to stay calm when his hold gets too tight, and him practically shaking with the effort it takes for him to leave me in control of our progress and pace.

  All the kissing makes me dizzy with want, but the fear of starting something I won’t be able to finish is enough for me to hold back. I forgot how much I loved his kisses. I could do this all day.

  But I don’t want to.

  Now that we’re both warmed up and I’m feeling the whispered desire for more, I figure why not try? Who knows if I’ll ever get these feelings again? With shaky fingers, I pull his hand from my waist.

  He releases me and pulls his head back, his eyes wide with worry. “Too much?”

  I shake my head and slide his hand under my shirt. His gaze darts from his hand to my face. “Not enough.”

  Inch by painfully slow inch, I bring his hand up my bare stomach, over my rib cage, and finally, I press his palm to my naked breast. He doesn’t move, I don’t even think he’s breathing, as he watches his hand under my shirt.

  “Remind me it doesn’t always hurt to be touched here,” I say, feeling anxiety surge through my body in an unforgiving wave. My pulse picks up and my breathing speeds, but I don’t want him to stop.

  His fingers quake against my skin, his thumb putting forth minimal pressure to cup me. “Can I see?”

  Fabian shoved his hands roughly up my shirt. I wonder if removing it all together might alleviate some of my fear, make this experience different from the last.

  Without words, I hook my fingers under the hem of my shirt and pull it off over my head. I don’t have a bra on, and as soon as his eyes fix on my naked boobs, he lifts his torso off the couch for a closer look. His barely-there touch still cups my breast, and his other hand holds me steady at my hip. He licks his lips. Once. Twice.

  “It’s okay.”

  He seems apologetic when he says, “Are you sure?” As if the last thing he wants to do is give in to his baser instincts but he knows it’s a losing battle.

  I arch my back, offering my chest, bringing my hard nipples closer to his mouth. He leans in with a long, deep, gravelly moan as he sucks the tip and swirls his tongue around it. His gaze comes to mine to judge my response, and I smile because he doesn’t break his connection to ask.

  “I’m still okay.”

  His eyelids flutter closed and he licks, sucks, and nibbles on my breasts until I’m moaning rocking against him. My hands tighten in his hair. His hard-on is thick and punching at his button fly, and I rub against it with long, firm rolls of my hips, making him growl against my sensitive chest.

  “Don’t stop,” he says. When I don’t, he mumbles, “God, I missed you.” His words dissolve against my skin as he licks and kisses between my breasts, my collarbone, and my neck. “Let me take you to bed?”

  My muscles lock up. His mouth holds still against my neck, but I know he can feel my hard swallow because he backs away, peering up at me with a cautious gaze.

  “I’m not sure I’m ready for… that.”

  He nods, and his big hands run up and down my bare arms in soothing strokes. “Sex.”

  I cringe involuntarily then feel guilty about my reaction. “I’m sorr—”

  His finger pressed to my lips silences my apology. “Don’t.” He lets his hand drop away from my face, and I cover my breasts with my arms, feeling bashful. “You have nothing to be sorry about.”

  I can’t help but laugh. “I’m straddling your lap with my top off, Jack. I practically jumped you, and when you mention the word s-e-x, I act like you threw a live sewer roach in my face.”

  He studies me, taking in my more guarded position, but makes no move to lull me back to comfort. Instead, he rests his hands at his sides on the couch, and as much as I miss his touch, I appreciate the space.

  “Why can’t you say the word?” There’s no condemnation in his tone, only curiosity.

  “You say…” I struggle to get the word out. “Sex. I hear sexual assault. I know it makes no sense, but it’s involuntary. I hate the word.”

  “Did he…” He seems to struggle to find the right words. “I couldn’t tell from your paintings if he…” His lips curl back from his teeth.

  “Are you asking about penetration?” I have to use medical terms or it’ll dirty whatever we end up doing tonight. “He did, with his fingers.” I clear my throat.

  “Fuck!” He holds up his hand. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to scare you. I’m just so pissed I didn’t kill that asshole when I had the chance.”

  “If it makes you feel better, he didn’t rape me in the traditional sense.”

  His eyes snap to mine. “Make me feel better? No. That doesn’t make me feel better. What does make me feel better is knowing you feel safe enough with me to finally talk about it.”

  I stare off at nothing over his shoulder and consider that. I had tried so hard to hide it from my family, from anyone with ties to my family, and I would’ve continued to hide it from Jack if he hadn’t crashed my exhibition. If he hadn’t done that, we wouldn’t be where we are. Because I would’ve
kept the horrific nature of that night away from him for as long as I lived, and because of that, I never could’ve really been with him. I would’ve always been holding back a big part of myself.

  “I do feel safe talking about it with you.”

  He wraps me up and crushes me to his chest, his face in my neck and his warm breath against my throat. “I don’t care if we never make love.” He must sense me rolling my eyes in disbelief because he continues. “I’m dead fucking serious. If all you’re okay with is kissing and letting me hold you, I swear that’s enough for me.”

  “Liar.” I chuckle.

  He growls, holds me tightly, and stands with me in his arms. I squeal at the abrupt change in position—and seriously, what kind of thigh strength does it take to lift both of us from a sitting position? I wrap my legs around his waist, and he carries me to his bed. If we hadn’t just talked about my bedroom hang-ups, I may have panicked, but I put all my issues out on the table and he accepted them, accepted me, scars and all.

  When he drops me on the bed and lies next to me, I have no concerns about his intentions with me.

  “Tired?”

  I shrug. “Not really.”

  “Want to watch another movie?”

  I roll onto my side to face him. “I was kind of enjoying what we were doing on the couch.”

  A slow smile spreads across his handsome face. “Oh yeah?”

  Nodding, I slink up and over his big body, mimicking our position on the couch, but this time he’s lying flat on his back.

  He puts his hands behind his head. Surprisingly—since I’m topless—he keeps his eyes on mine. “I’m all yours, Ms. Slade.”

  I run my hands from his firm, muscular stomach to his chest, down, then back up again. The next time my fingers follow the same path, I pull his shirt up and he shifts to help me tug it from his body and toss it on the floor. “I have an idea.”

  A low rumble vibrates in his throat as I kiss his neck and brush my bare torso against his. I have to agree—skin on skin, we feel so good.

  So right.

  Meant to be.

  Jack

  “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Sadie stands over me on the bed, wearing my shirt and checking her work.

  I flex my hands against the restraint of my BOSS necktie and adrenaline races through me. “I think it’s pretty obvious I’m more than okay with it.” The tip of my hard-on is strangled by the waistband of my jeans. I tip my head and smirk playfully. “You think you could free up a couple buttons there before I lose circulation?”

  Since she suggested tying my hands above my head, I’ve been practically shaking with excitement for whatever she has planned. I hope she teases and plays with me all night. There’s something so sexy about her using me to get back her power and feeling of control.

  She straddles my thighs, her soft fingers going to my fly. She brushes against my erection while releasing the first few buttons. My hips thrust forward and Sadie flashes a sly grin. “Better?”

  I’m biting my lip so hard it hurts, and I nod quickly.

  “Good,” she whispers as she drops forward to press her T-shirt-clad breasts to my bare torso.

  I vacillate between asking her to take off the shirt and wanting her to keep it on because she wears it like a claim. My claim on her. Her claim on me.

  Her lips find my neck, and she tortures me with her tongue, teeth, and those sweet fucking lips as she draws them down my chest. She sucks my nipples, and I groan when she scrapes her teeth against them. “You’ve gotten bigger.”

  I roll my hips. “Thank you.”

  She tickles my ribs. “Not that—Hey! Arms down.”

  “Sorry.” I lick my lips. “You know I’m ticklish. They responded on their own. I won’t move them again, I promise. Just please.” A shudder of pleasure skips up my spine as she drops her sexy ass on my dick. “Don’t stop.”

  Her long hair falls beautifully over her shoulders, and she walks her fingers down to my belly button, where she swirls the tips of her fingers around and lower. My lips part and I’m fucking panting.

  “I like this side of you, Jack Daniels.”

  “Oh yeah?” It takes effort for me to catch a breath big enough to speak a complete sentence while she’s teasing so close to where I want her most. “What side is that?”

  “Tied up, on your back, and at my mercy.”

  “Always been at your mercy.” And it’s true. Our entire lives, she has owned every part of me. Up until I left for college and, without realizing I was doing it, I took back all those parts of myself and lived for me rather than us.

  She dips down and kisses along my abdomen, taking what feels like hours on each spot that makes my hard-on kick before she moves to the next. My hands flex and release, a light sheen of sweat breaking out against my skin. The restraints burn against my wrists from my pulling against them, but I refuse to move my arms.

  Time slows to a crawl as she tempts me with her mouth on my hips. I’m hypersensitive to the brush of her hair as it trails along my skin. She tugs at my jeans and I lift my hips to assist her as she pulls them down, along with my boxer briefs. But she stops at my thighs, locking my legs together as she looks at me. I want her to touch me there, but I refuse to ask. Tonight is all for her.

  If I screw it up, I may never get a second chance.

  Silence builds between us, the air thickening as tension builds. Her gaze slides along my body in what feels like a physical caress.

  “Are you doing okay?” She eyes my wrists tied above my head.

  “So good.”

  She grins at the rugged sound of my voice.

  Touch me, please.

  She must pick up on my mental communication because she rakes her nails down my rib cage to my belly and grips my dick in a firm hold.

  “Oh fuck,” I groan, and I fight against the orgasm that’s begging to be released.

  Her gaze darts to mine, and heat fires behind her blue-green eyes as she strokes me.

  My mouth falls open. I wouldn’t be surprised if my tongue falls out of my mouth as I pant to catch my breath and keep from passing out. “Sadie, baby—”

  My words dissolve in a moan when she tightens her grip and twists.

  I’m about to tell her to slow down, warn her that I’m seconds away from making a mess in her beautiful hand, when she dips down and licks the tip.

  Every muscle in my body coils and my back arches off the bed. “Sadie, I’m gonna… if you, oh my…”

  Her mouth wraps around me in a vicious suction that robs me of all rational thought. This is not how I wanted tonight to go. I wanted to spend hours making her feel good, reminding her what being made love to is supposed to feel like. Remind her of what we felt like together, but…

  “Oh shit.” It’s coming. I try to pull away from her, but like she did with my lips when we were kissing, she chases me down. I promised I’d keep my hands above my head so the only other thing I can do is—“I’m gonna come.”

  Her grip tightens. She takes me deeper, to the very back of her throat.

  I’ve never finished in Sadie’s mouth before. I always pulled out, thinking she wouldn’t like it, and she never fought me on it.

  Until now.

  She licks me with more pressure. Sucks. Tugs.

  I explode.

  I swear my fucking vision blacks out. Stars dance in the darkness and my entire body bows off the bed. She stays between my legs, mouth sealed, fist tight as she moans and draws a similar sound out of me.

  My arms itch to fall forward, grab her, and pull her to my chest so she can feel my racing heart. I keep them above my head. “I want to hold you.”

  She releases me from her mouth and crawls up my body. With a little work, she manages to untie my hands. The muscles in my shoulders ache when I bring my arms down and wrap them around her, pulling her tightly to my chest.

  “You’re sweaty,” she says, pressing her cheek to my pec and throwing her arm over my waist.

  “I do
n’t think you realize the workout you put me through.” My voice is even hoarse. “Keeping my hands off you was impossible.”

  She smiles at me, lips pink and swollen. “But you did it.”

  I take her sweet lips in a slow, tender kiss. The saltiness of my release is fresh on her tongue. I should care, right? Tasting myself should gross me out, but it doesn’t. If anything, I can already feel the stir of arousal as a second wave fills me. I suck on her lips and mumble against them, “Your mouth is magic, Sadie girl.”

  “I’ve never done that before.”

  “No? I mean, I know you’ve never swallowed with me, but—”

  “There’s only been you, Jack.”

  Relief wars with disgust, and to hide my reaction to her confession, I pull her back to my chest. I had a feeling her only sexual experience outside of me was what that rapist fuck put her through, and I hate that for her. With every part of my being, I hate that for her.

  “What about you? I’m sure you’ve had plenty of women do that for you.” Her voice sounds uneasy, as if she doesn’t really want the answer to the question.

  “Honestly? Not one.”

  Her head pops up, disbelief in her eyes.

  I chuckle and run my fingers through her hair, tucking the silky strands behind her ear. “The most I’ve ever done with another woman is kiss, and in my defense, I was drunk and she kissed me.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. Of course. Sadie, even when I thought I was ready to let someone else in, I never could. You were the standard I held every woman against, and none of them came close. I would never lie to you about that.” But I lie to you about other things. An ache forms in the back of my throat, guilt reminding me that the myBubble conversations need to stop.

  I forget about all that for now as I watch a slow smile spread across her face. “So… you’ve never done… um…”

  “You’re the only woman I’ve ever made love to, had sex with, fucked—whatever you want to call it, the truth is still the same.”

  “Wow…” Her eyes get dreamy, and she drops back to my chest. “I’m happy to hear that.”