Nuclear Heat

by Jordyn White

  “I want you,” I say, gasping again as he once more thrusts his cock against me. “Jack, please.” Enough fucking around. I need him in me for real.

  He pulls back enough to set me on my feet. We take to removing our clothes, but are doing it in between hungry kisses. At last my bra goes flying and my panties are the last item of clothing remaining. Leaving my panties on, Jack turns his attention to my breasts. He squeezes, licks, sucks, and pulls. I’m rubbing my hands down his bare back, angling my hips and legs toward him, asking for more.

  Finally, Jack starts to slide off my panties, dropping to one knee. He tosses the panties aside, but stays down and holds me firmly against the door by the hips. I watch him dive into me. He teases my lips open with his tongue. I grab onto his strong forearms for support when he slides over my clit.

  I lock my knees to keep from falling and throw my head back. I’m still bowled over by everything Jack, still tumbling downstream, but this time I’m not even trying to find anything to hang onto. I’m gasping and panting and gripping the hair on the back of his head as he eats me into sweet oblivion.

  There’s no holding back the sounds I want to make this time. He strums my clit hard and I cry out, not able to contain it.

  “There she is,” Jack says, before swirling the wet flat of his tongue over my clit. A long, high cry escapes me as he sets my entire body on fire. “Mmmmmm,” he rumbles, his mouth fully on me and the vibrations from his voice trembling through me.

  “Damn, Jack,” I gasp. My knees are starting to give way as my body starts that delicious climb to climax. “Oh fuck.”

  He lifts one leg so my thigh is resting on his shoulder. I let him support my weight and start to curl forward, bracing myself on his arm and shoulder.

  He hardens his tongue and starts flicking rapidly over my clit. “Yes,” I gasp. “Yes, yes.”

  Then I’m past talking as I climb high and hard. My other knee starts to give but Jack’s giving me enough support. I’m shuddering and gasping, clutching him hard, as the hot pleasure in my core blooms outward. It sweeps over my chest and face, spiking higher and higher in the center where Jack’s working me. I cry out over and over as Jack pushes me higher and higher until the pleasure tears through me and I’m gripped in an orgasm so powerful I can only roll my head and pant frantically.

  The waves crash over me, causing my body to tremble. Now Jack knows exactly what it sounds like when I’m released and not holding back. Based on the noises he’s making, I’m thinking he likes it, which increases my pleasure that much more.

  When I start to release and my body weakens, Jack comes up and catches me in his arms. We’re on the move now, Jack carrying me with my legs wrapped around him. This again. I love it when he carries me like this. Caressing him, I kiss his shoulder and neck.

  He takes me to a room I’ve rarely been in: his bedroom. I tuck my head around so I can take it all in: the heavy, dark-wood headboard. The thick, black comforter. The satin pillowcases.

  It’s always been Jack’s little man cave, but everything about being here with him feels like coming into a safe shelter.

  He lays me on the bed and goes quickly to his nightstand. I watch him watching me as he deftly puts on a condom. Again, I have to resist the urge to tell him not to. I want him raw.

  “The things I’m going to do to you,” he says in a low, sexy voice I feel all the way to my core.

  “Yes, please.”

  As he climbs onto the bed to join me, Tsunami Jack makes a reappearance. His presence is almost more than I can handle. He rolls me onto my side, bends my legs, and kneels right next to me with his knees spread wide, entering me from behind. He’d lifted my top knee slightly so he could slide into me easier, but now that he’s in, he presses my knee back down so my legs are pinned together. The pressure of his massive shaft sliding in and out of me ignites a new fire deep inside me.

  Again, I’m moaning helplessly.

  “That’s my girl,” he says thickly, looking at me with blazing eyes, “Let me hear those sexy noises you make.”

  As if I could stop now.

  His cock is lighting up every inch of me as he rocks me rhythmically. His angle puts extra pressure on my side wall, something I love. He’s almost found my favorite position already. Then he lifts my top leg to rest it on his nearest shoulder, and holds my thigh against his chest as he straddles my bottom leg. The whole time his thick cock stays inside me, and now he’s found my favorite position.

  “Ahhhh, yes,” I say. “I love that.”

  Now he’s able to pump faster and deeper. He braces himself against the headboard with one hand, biceps flexing, leaning over me more and bringing my top leg with him, spreading me wider. His cock is angling hard against my side wall, causing pleasure to bloom outward from that spot over and over again. I feel a drop of moisture escape me and run down my seam.

  “You’re so wet,” Jack says thickly, looking at me with an astonishing mix of passion and tenderness as he rams me hard. I didn’t know it was possible to experience all this at once.

  Then our eyes lock in a new way. Every sensation in my body and heart magnifies. I look at him looking at me, his body over me, him inside me, and we’re joined body and soul. All of a sudden it’s too much, too much, too much but I don’t want him to stop, either. His fingers slide down my thigh, heading for my mound. His fingers touch my sensitive bud and the jolt zips through my entire body. All the while, his eyes grip mine and I’m tumbling and helpless and overpowered by love for him.

  I can’t speak. I can’t look away. I can only gasp and pant and whimper as he brings me to another shattering climax. I clutch at his thigh and close my eyes and throw my head back and come undone. His hardness enters me again and again, and his fingers strum me rapidly, and I cry out helplessly.

  At last I’m released. When he pulls out of me and lets my body rest heavily on the bed, I’m trembling. He’s still kneeling, but now he’s rubbing his hands firmly up my thighs, up my stomach, up my chest, then back down. He’s grounding me and getting me ready for more. His cock is so hard I can see the strain in it. He’s watching me and I’m too captured to do anything but watch him back.

  He’s hungry for me, but I’m already consumed.

  Too much. It’s too much, Jack. Have mercy on me.

  But when he comes down on top of me, I open my arms and pull him into a willing embrace. He enters me and I am a little boat on a big ocean. I tilt my head back and close my eyes and let Jack take me to a place I’ve never been. I’m helpless to stop it. His breath is hot on my neck and his arms firm around me. Jack rocks me. He sends my little boat over the waves, higher and higher. Just like this, head back, eyes closed. My body is his to command and I am hot with his wishes. A gentle and powerful swell rises in me. He is everywhere in me and I am everywhere in him. Jack rocks me. Bigger and bigger. More and more.

  Have mercy.

  This is not an emerging climax of the body, but an emerging climax of the soul. And when it explodes inside me, and I’m trembling with ecstasy, and Jack is releasing and shuddering over me, I am finally, fully acquainted with the great and terrible power of love.

  Chapter 20

  Jack

  I know I’ve got a skittish little doe on my hands. Don’t think I don’t.

  On our date, I was careful to call her to me gently and not do anything to startle her. Then she startled me when she kissed me in the truck like that. And asked for more. And kept that fire burning all the way home and into my bedroom.

  Sam’s a force to be reckoned with, for sure.

  But it got away from both of us, there at the end, and I can only hope I haven’t frightened her back into the woods.

  In fact, I’m kind of regretting the timing of the big dinner we have to go to tonight. It’s a fancy dinner at The Iron House to celebrate the conclusion of Ashley and Erik’s summer tour, and everyone’s going to be there. All the girls, and all their guys.

  And Sam and I.

  I don�
�t know if Sam’s ready for this. I’m tempted to text everyone and tell them to behave. I’d keep the whole thing under wraps, if I could, but I sort of blew my chances at that when I kissed Sam the way I did right in front of Ashley.

  Not that I regret that.

  It was soooo worth it.

  When I pull up to Sam’s house, she doesn’t come out to meet me. I’m not sure if that’s progress or not. When I go inside, she’s not in the immediate vicinity so I holler out, “Hey Shorty. You ready?”

  She emerges from the hallway—wearing one of my favorite dresses of hers, the slim, blue number—pointing to the phone she’s holding to her ear and rolling her eyes. “I know, Mom, but there’s nothing you can do about that now.”

  I grin. Ah, her mom. She’s a bit of a mess, but she’s got a good heart.

  “Mom, I—” Sam drops her phone half an inch, rolls her eyes, and sighs. I can see now she’s legitimately frustrated about something. But about what? If she’s talking to her mom, it could be anything.

  I hear her mom’s voice, but can’t make out of much of what she’s saying. She sounds like she might be crying. What’s going on?

  We sort of drift deeper into the living room and end up sitting on the couch as Sam continues to listen and starts trying to calm her mom down. She looks at me and mouths, “Sorry.”

  I nod. It’s okay.

  After about fifteen minutes, I’ve sent Ashley a text letting her know we’ll be a bit late and pieced together what’s going on. It sounds like Sam’s mom is on her way to getting divorce number four. Great.

  Finally her mom’s calmed down and Sam’s trying to wrap things up. Then her mom says something that rubs Sam wrong, because she straightens and gets a hard look on her face. Her mom is still talking, but Sam stands abruptly, grabs her purse off the table, and gives a quick gesture toward the door that means, Let’s just get the fuck out of here.

  I follow Sam out, phone still to her ear. “Well, we’ll talk more later, Mom, okay?” Her voice is tight and I have a feeling she’s about to go nuclear about something. We get to my truck and I open the door for her. I take her nearest hand, as well as her other arm, and give her some support. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve helped Sam climb into my truck in a nice dress and heels, so we manage it without forethought or comment.

  When I get in myself, Sam’s saying, “I’m sorry, but I have to go. We have that dinner... No, it’s fine. You’re fine. We’ll talk later... Okay, bye.”

  She pulls the phone away from her ear, taps disconnect with her thumb, and chucks it onto the seat between us.

  “Fucking hell.”

  “She and Derek are splits, huh?”

  Sam’s got her arms crossed now. She just grunts.

  “Is she okay?”

  “Peachy.”

  I sigh. “What happened?”

  “Oh, you know,” she tosses her hands up. “Derek is up to his old tricks and mom just can’t understand it.” Sam says this in her mocking voice, rolling her eyes. “You know, because she loves him so much, or what the fuck ever. Well, this time he’s the one ending things, and it’s just as well, because otherwise Mom would just hang on in that mess forever before finally getting up the balls to leave him.” Sam exhales sharply. “You know what she said to me?”

  I don’t know if I want to know.

  “She says he was such a great guy at first.” Sam gives me a withering look. “As if. She couldn’t spot a great guy if you knocked her upside the head with one. I called it, didn’t I? I knew it clear back when they were dating this was how it was going to end, but she was too fucking in love with that asshole to see it.”

  Yeah. I’m definitely not saying a word right now. She just needs to blow off some steam and I’m going to sit here and let her.

  But Sam surprises me.

  Instead of going off on things further, she folds her arms and looks out the passenger window. I wouldn’t worry about it if she looked merely pissed. Hell, she could just be taking a breather in between rants. No biggie.

  But the look on her face, I admit, it has me worried. She looks thoughtful, and I don’t think she’s thinking about her mom anymore.

  Fuck.

  We’re practically to The Iron House, and I’m not so sure Sam’s in the right frame of mind for a dinner party. “Do you still want to go? I could take you home.”

  She frowns at me. “I’m not missing this. Why would I do that to Ashley?”

  “Okay.” I look forward, giving her some space. “Just checking.”

  Sam takes a deep breath. I glance over and see she’s trying to get herself together. I give her a few more minutes, letting her put her phone in her purse in silence. “Sorry,” she says tightly.

  “For what?” I say lightly, trying to coax her into a better place.

  She sighs, and says nothing.

  Yeah, okay. It’s not a time for jokes.

  I pull into the parking lot and find a spot. I kill the engine, but neither one of us moves. “Hey,” I say gently. She won’t look at me. “Hey,” I say again.

  This time she looks over. I’m not sure what to think about what I see. I really don’t know what she’s thinking. “Are you okay?”

  She shrugs. “I didn’t care about the guy.”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  She sighs, folding her arms again and looking out the windshield. “Mom’ll be fine eventually,” she says dully. “She’s been through it before.”

  “That’s not what I meant either.”

  She doesn’t move, but her brows furrow together and her face slowly softens. “I’m okay,” she says, softer now. “Let’s just... have a good time for Ashley’s sake, okay?”

  She looks at me then. “Say something funny.”

  I raise my eyebrows. “No pressure or anything.”

  “I don’t want to carry this shit in there.”

  I reach over and open the glove box. “Then put your shit in there. If that doesn’t work, I’ll fuck your brains out right here in this truck until you’re screaming in ecstasy.”

  She gives me a wry look. “Would that be for your benefit, or mine?”

  I give her a sly smile and she blushes. God, I love that. She shuts the glove box and sticks her tongue out at me.

  I grin. That’s my girl.

  Thankfully I got to Sam’s house early enough that we’re only about ten minutes late to the restaurant, but everyone’s already here and gathered at a big, round table in one of The Iron House’s rear dining rooms. I’m bracing myself for some smart aleck comments about the fact that Sam and I are here together, but no one says a word about it. Not that we’re exactly giving them easy ammunition—I’m not holding Sam’s hand or pulling out her chair or really doing anything differently at all—but still, I figured we’d get some sort of shit when we got here. All that happens is Ashley gives us an appraising look, and Chloe and Isabella exchange what they think are sneaky grins, and that’s it.

  I’m pretty proud of them. And grateful. Because Sam could use a breather right now. Honestly, I could too.

  We’ve finished hearing the latest updates from Ashley and Erik about their tour—apparently things went successfully enough that their agent is starting to book them into some pretty serious venues for next summer—when Isabella says the last thing I expected to hear.

  “So, Jack, how are things going with Emily?”

  We’re in the starter course, so I’m conveniently swallowing some French onion soup when Bella asks me that. Now I’m not so conveniently choking on it and coughing and wondering what in the fuck’s going on.

  Shane’s sitting next to me and gives me a couple hearty whacks on the back as I reach for my water. I’m not too distracted to notice Ashley and Sam exchanging uncomfortable glances.

  Wait a minute. Ashley hasn’t said anything? The other girls don’t know? Now that I think about it, I guess they probably would’ve texted me if they did. But... that means Sam hasn’t told them either.

 
Why not?

  I’m looking at her as I’m downing my water, but she’s struggling to maintain her composure too.

  “You okay?” Isabella asks me.

  No.

  I nod and clear my throat. “We broke up.” And I will never say one more word about that, in case you were wondering.

  Isabella and Chloe grin at each other and then look at Sam.

  Okay, something’s up. Do they know or not? Maybe this is their way of messing with us, but they just don’t know enough to leave Emily out of the conversation?

  “Um...” Sam pinches her eyes closed and scratches the base of her neck.

  ‘Um’ is right. What do I say? Sam and I are hooking up? Sam and I are going out? (Not that we’ve really discussed things enough to define it, what with her being a skittish doe and all.) Or do I say the truth, which is I’m hopelessly in love with her and going to do everything in my power to marry her and keep her forever. If I can pull it off.

  “We’re kind of...” Sam weakly gestures between the two of us, “trying things.”

  Okay, I can live with that for now, and at least she’s the one who said it. But there’s no containing the reaction around the table, especially from Isabella and Chloe.

  “Well, it’s about damned time,” Isabella says, grinning.

  Chloe has her hands clasped to her chest. “Oh my god!”

  “Chloe,” Sam says lowly, rolling her eyes.

  “Oh my god!” Chloe says again.

  “Will you please not do that?” Sam’s acting like her normal self, but not. I sense the tension underneath.

  I’m with you, girl. I’m not comfortable either.

  “What’s that mean, ‘trying things’?” Grayson asks.

  I give him a look. Thanks, Grayson. Thanks a lot. He grins at me.

  Okay, time to take things in a different direction and get back some control. “You know,” I say lightly, “trying things. Missionary. Doggie style. Reverse cowgirl.”

  Sam gapes at me; everyone else is starting to laugh, though.

  “Splitting bamboo,” I continue.

  “Alright, that’s enough,” Sam says and everyone laughs. She’s grinning a bit, too, and I take a big breath. Okay, one hurdle down. Let’s move on to something else, shall we?