What Matters More

by Liora Blake

  One corner of Anya’s mouth hitched up. She set aside the last brush to dry and started to rinse out the sink.

  “Which is how? I’m dying to know,” she said, sneaking a quick look at him with a raised brow.

  “Like he wants to know what you sound like when you come.”

  JT’s answer spilled out before he could stop it. Anya didn’t so much as glare, even when what had just come out of his mouth probably warranted that and more. She shut the water off, dried her hands, and propped her hip against the sink edge so she could face him. She crossed her arms over her chest.

  “Isn’t that how you look at me?” she challenged.

  The already-small room suddenly felt as if it had shrunk by half, yet Anya was still too far away. Maybe JT hadn’t been sure what would happen when he’d knocked on the door, but he knew what he’d wanted to happen, and this was it. He wanted to feel the same wild, tempting intensity he’d experienced with her in that dingy hotel room when the two of them had given in to what felt good, without letting all the reasons he shouldn’t get the best of him.

  JT wanted this. Wanted Anya. He missed everything about their night together—the feeling that he was more than his situation and the sense he could give her what she needed. Most of all, he wanted to lie next to her again, right after he’d made her come and then finally taken his. The feel of her body against him, her soft skin and her touch, soaking up the quiet as they both caught their breath.

  He let every one of those desires wash over him, and when he did, nothing else mattered but closing the distance between them. Yet he stopped short of reaching for her and merely drew in closer by tipping his head.

  “No, that’s not how I look at you. Because I already know. I know exactly what you sound like when you come,” he said thickly. “Every little moan and whimper you make, the way your pussy gets so tight when you get there. I know all of it.”

  Anya sucked in a sharp breath, and JT scanned her face, watching as a flush of pink colored her cheeks. He wanted to touch her so badly his entire body ached.

  “I hate this,” JT breathed. “Staying away from you is killing me.”

  “You decided that,” Anya said, poking him in the chest with both of her index fingers. “Not me. If I had my way, we would have picked up right where we left off.”

  Anya let her hands fall to his chest, and JT leaned into that touch, relieved that the ache of wanting her had eased. He craned himself forward until he could dip his head and press close enough to breathe in her scent, which wasn’t cloying or heavily perfumed; it was just coconut and Anya.

  Then he caught a whiff of himself. He muttered a string of curses in his head. One of Chris’s killer workouts and some lawn mowing in the Arizona heat weren’t an ideal combination if they wanted to get naked right now, which he fucking did. If she did, too, he needed to do something about his eau de stink first, because he liked her way too much to make the poor woman pass out.

  Anya began to drag her nails down his chest, teasing under the hem of his shirt. JT caught her hands in his.

  “I’m not sure how far you want this to go, but I’m seriously sweaty and I stink. If I lift my arms up to take my shirt off, it’s going to kill the mood. Trust me.”

  She chuckled quietly but didn’t stop working her hands up under his shirt.

  “This house has four bathrooms. And the shower in the guest suite I’m staying in happens to be big enough for two.”

  JT held his breath, and not only because he reeked. He needed to think beyond his dick for a second. He was all in and Anya seemed to be right there with him, but he needed to hear her say it out loud.

  “Are you sure about this? Here? Now?” He froze when her hands came to stroke his length through his joggers. “If there are house-sitting rules about this kind of stuff, then I don’t want to get you in trouble.”

  “Rules, rules, rules,” Anya whispered with a quiet laugh. “All they asked is that I respect their house as if it was my own. So, no, there aren’t any rules about not having sex with the hot guy living across the street. And I definitely want this.”

  JT groaned. Hearing her say that she wanted this—wanted him—made whatever control he was trying to maintain shatter into a million pieces. JT grabbed her, wrapping one arm around her waist so he could drag her body up his own, kissing her with all the pent-up denial of the last two weeks. She moaned into his rough kiss, her body wilting into his hold as if she was content to simply take what he wanted to give. Finally, JT broke their kiss, leaning back just enough to see her face.

  “Naked. Shower. Bed.” He slid his hands down to grasp her ass, squeezing the flesh greedily. “In that order.”

  Anya gave him a dazed grin and took his hand in hers, guiding him through the main floor of the house to a set of stairs leading to the basement. She flipped on a light at the bottom of the stairs, and they passed through an unfinished portion of the basement with concrete walls and floors. Anya’s easels were set up along one side, near large casement windows, and canvases were scattered throughout the space. JT could easily picture her down here, painting and creating, so much that he considered stopping to ask how her work was going these days. That said a lot about everything he was feeling when it came to Anya. Getting chatty about her art right now meant that he’d inevitably delay getting naked with her, which should probably seem like a sacrifice, but it didn’t.

  Apparently Anya wasn’t debating the same questions, though, because her pace actually quickened as she pulled him into a finished guest room. The space was outfitted a lot like his room at his parents’, with a double bed, one nightstand, and a small love seat. Tucked into one corner of the room were the same heap of boxes and bags stuffed with Anya’s belongings that he had seen in the hotel room when they’d met.

  Anya crossed the room toward the suite’s bathroom and kept JT’s hand in hers until she reached for the shower door, then turned on the water and went to work stripping her clothes off.

  The tank top went first, revealing a white bikini top underneath. Her denim shorts followed, and tiny matching bikini bottoms came into view. Whatever thoughts JT had about discussing her art flew right out of his brain, replaced by a vivid image of Anya in that bikini, lying out next to the Greenes’ swimming pool with the sun beating down on her smooth, honey-drenched skin.

  Holy fuck. He liked that picture. A lot.

  The only thing capable of disrupting that fantasy was Anya shooting him an expectant look from over her shoulder, one that made it clear she thought he was falling behind and needed to hurry it up. JT quickly yanked off his shirt, fighting the urge to grunt proudly when he caught Anya devouring him with her eyes. He shoved his joggers down in one move, along with his boxers. Kicking his clothes off to one side, he cleared the space between them, his cock leading the way like a compass calibrated with Anya’s bare body as true north. JT slid his hands over Anya’s waist, twisting his fingers in the bikini ties near her hips.

  “Someday I want to spend the afternoon with you outside by the pool, wearing nothing but this little bikini and some suntan oil on. But right now”—he tugged on one of the ties—“I want to enjoy you out of it.”

  Anya let him work the bottoms down her legs as she untied the top, dropping it to the floor. JT slowly slid his hands up her inner thighs, easing one hand between her legs, finding her so worked up that she shuddered when he drew the pad of one finger over her clit. Her slick heat made him wonder how long he could play this game without cracking and losing what little finesse he hoped to use to make this worth the wait. Even now, all he wanted to do was spin her around, put her hands on the vanity top, and bend her over as he sank deep in one thrust.

  Glancing up to consider which part of the vanity would work best for that, he caught a glimpse of Anya wrinkling her nose. He groaned sheepishly and remembered why they were in this bathroom in the first place. His reckless plan to fuck her over the counter like a brute would have to wait.

  “I told you,” JT snort
ed. “I stink.”

  “You definitely do.” She crooked a finger at him after reaching over to open the shower door and stepping inside. “Come in here and we’ll fix that.”

  JT stepped under the spray, closing his eyes as he ran his hands over his hair and relished the feel of hot water sluicing over his body. When he felt Anya’s hands on him, he opened his eyes.

  Anya had filled her palms with a scented body wash, frothed it in her hands and began running it over his chest and down his arms, tenderly kneading his tired muscles along the way. JT considered closing his eyes again but didn’t. He wanted to watch as she slicked her hands over every inch of his skin and catalog that sight as a memory he never wanted to forget.

  She poured more body wash into her hand, until it overflowed her fingers, then lathered it over his hipbones, across his pelvis, and down to his cock. When she gripped him and began to stroke his length in a steady rhythm, his head fell back on a moan. She slipped her hand up and down his shaft so gently it set his teeth on edge, wanting more, desperate for her to give his cock the rough treatment needed to make this ache go away.

  As she circled her thumb and middle finger where his crown met the shaft, working him over with a featherlight touch, he couldn’t take it anymore.

  “Anya,” he groaned.

  “Harder?” she asked.

  Her coy tone said she already knew the answer, but he told her anyway, just to be sure she knew exactly what he wanted.

  “Fuck, yes. Do it like I would. You’ve watched me, you know how I like it. Work my cock nice and rough.”

  She didn’t tease him or make him beg for it any more than he already had and instead did just as he asked. But too much deprivation, too much stress, and too much desire were thundering inside him and it didn’t take long to realize it was too good. If she kept this up, he wouldn’t able to hold off much longer.

  JT put his hand over hers, slowing her strokes until Anya let out a needy whimper.

  “You keep going like that and I’m going to lose it. Can’t let that happen,” he gritted out, pulling her hands away from his cock. Anya made another frustrated sound.

  “Why? I want that.”

  JT grinned at the way she stuck out her lower lip in an exaggerated pout. He began to guide her body back, pressing her against the wall of the shower, then wasted no time in dropping to his knees so he was eye level with where he wanted his mouth. He looked up and met her eyes, letting her to see just how much he wanted the taste of her pussy right now—on his lips, his tongue, everywhere.

  Anya let out a sigh and widened her legs, inviting him forward as she ran one hand through his hair. She gripped a handful and tugged, hard enough that JT let out a feral growl as he dipped his head, drawing his tongue over her with one long, slow stroke. Anya responded with a moan, and her grip on his hair tightened. JT loved the way her body begged for every lap and suck he gave up, devouring her as if he couldn’t get enough. Even when she came, pressing her pussy to his mouth like she was determined to take all she could from the experience, he wanted more. More of her taste, more of her desire—simply more.

  JT gave her clit one last flick with the tip of his tongue and her entire body shuddered.

  “You are so good at that,” she said. Her face was damp with mist from the shower, and her normally straight hair was now wild and wavy.

  JT wanted to roar. It felt like a victory—not because she was a challenge to be bested or because his ego was keeping score, but because she trusted him enough to give her that pleasure. She chose him again. That was what made him believe that when he stood up, he’d be walking a little taller.

  He kissed her inner thigh, and Anya’s grip on his hair loosened until she was able to run her nails over his scalp in gentle strokes from nape to crown. He lost himself in the sensation until he heard her say his name, a heady wanting in her voice. JT stood up and took himself in hand, remembering the way Anya’s eyes had lit up when he’d done the same thing on their first night together. The move had the same effect as it had before. Anya’s expression turned heated.

  JT knew that look.

  And while it was tempting to consider going for it right here, that wasn’t going to happen. For one, the hot water was bound to run out soon, and no matter how much heat the two of them created, standing under an ice-cold shower didn’t sound like fun. And two, they needed a condom.

  JT shut off the shower, mentally patting himself on the back for finally being able to string enough rational thoughts together to remember the basics.

  “We need protection. You still have that box of condoms?”

  He continued to work his cock as he spoke, so Anya answered with a distracted nod, her attention still focused on the show he was giving her. She yanked the shower door open, nearly losing her balance when she missed the bath mat and stepped onto the tile floor instead. JT managed to grab her wet, slippery body in his arms before she fell. Once he was sure she was okay, he bit back a laugh.

  “Slow down,” he murmured, dropping a kiss to her temple. “No need to go getting injured. I’m not going anywhere.”

  Anya let out an embarrassed groan but grinned. “Promise?”

  The sweetly hopeful look on her face made JT’s heart do things he wasn’t prepared for. He swallowed thickly before reassuring her.

  “Promise,” he whispered.

  They managed to get themselves dried off without Anya taking a tumble. Once she was done, she dropped the towel on the floor and scampered into the bedroom ahead of him. JT grinned as he finished drying off, hanging both towels up before ambling into the bedroom, where Anya was bent over at the waist so she could rustle through a pile of plastic bags on the bed. Her plentiful ass was up in the air, offering the perfect angle to fulfill what he’d been imagining over the vanity top.

  JT stalked over to her with long strides, taking her hips in his hands roughly. His dick wedged between them, and he couldn’t help but push his hips forward and back a few times. Then he adjusted himself to slip lower, nestled along her pussy. With each stroke, he nudged the tip closer to her entrance, and Anya’s busy hands slowed a bit.

  “JT, you have to stop,” she choked out. “You keep that up and we’re going to do something stupid.”

  He was grateful that someone in the room was still able to think clearly, even if trying to stay still was torture. JT spoke through a clenched jaw. “Then. Hurry. Up.”

  As if on cue, a cardboard box flew out of a bag.

  “Ah-ha!” Anya exclaimed, wrestling the box open with clumsy hands and tossing a foil wrapper over her shoulder at him, which JT somehow managed to catch. When she made a move to turn over, he stopped her by laying his free hand on her back.

  “Don’t move,” he instructed, then ripped the wrapper open with his teeth. “I’ve been thinking about having you like this since I walked through that door.”

  After rolling the condom on, he paused only long enough to rub the head of his cock along her pussy teasingly, then lined himself up and pushed inside. When he was in to the hilt, they both froze, every breath between them choppy and tense. Then Anya gave a fidgety twist of her hips and JT gave in, flexing his hips forward slowly until she started to meet his thrusts, one by one. When Anya’s hand disappeared between her legs, JT gave her a few short, rough thrusts before letting his weight drag them down onto the bed, laying his body fully atop hers.

  Her voice broke on a plea for him to keep going and then everything else disappeared. The feel of her suddenly orgasming around him, their bodies joined so deeply, and her voice urging him on were the only things that mattered—nothing else existed.

  JT let go. A wave of pleasure broke over him, heady enough to have knocked him over had he not already been lying down.

  When he caught his breath, he realized he was still on top of her—and probably crushing her. JT hefted his spent body up, drawing his hands down her back and over the swell of her ass as he pulled out slowly with a satisfied groan. He went to take care of the c
ondom, leaving Anya a boneless lump on the bed. He returned and flopped onto the bed next to her.

  She was still on her belly, but she’d turned her head to see him, her hair in messy waves around her face and her skin flushed pink. JT itched for the power to freeze time because Anya looked properly fucked and happy—and he wanted to keep her that way for as long as possible. She let out a sigh.

  “You want to stay and have some dinner? Gwen and Jack left me a list of what they consider the best takeout in the area, and I’ve had my eye on a place that makes pupusas. But if that’s not your speed, we could keep it simple and order a pizza.” She grinned. “Either way, I think you earned some sustenance.”

  JT’s heart started to beat harder. Suddenly, he was ravenous, craving what Anya was offering—in more ways than one.

  Physically, he was fucking starving. Other than an energy bar after his workout, he hadn’t eaten anything since lunch. And emotionally, he was hungry for more of the things Anya made him feel, even if he wasn’t sure exactly what to call them. Comfort? Relief? Acceptance? Hell, he didn’t know. Maybe they were just damn good in bed together and his heart was confusing endorphins with emotions.

  No matter what it was, he liked it. Enough that it was easy to indulge in the fantasy of staying here, ordering in whatever she wanted for dinner, and spending the rest of the night hanging out together. He had the next two days off, too—so one night could easily turn into three, which made him wish even harder that he had the power to freeze time.

  Unfortunately, he wasn’t a superhero endowed with superpowers. He was just a regular guy living with his parents. A guy whose mom assumed he would make an appearance at her dinner table unless he said otherwise. While his parents respected that he was an adult and hadn’t laid down any ground rules when he’d moved in, basic manners dictated that while he lived there, he should act like a member of the household, which meant sharing meals together. Plus, JT had talked to his dad about the field supervisor promotion, and his dad had shared the news with his mom. Like the great mom she was, she’d decided that even though JT didn’t actually have the job yet, her son deserved a celebratory meal. Tonight. That meant JT couldn’t stay, even though he wanted to. He needed to go, and soon.