by Aja Cole
And when he rasps my name in my ear, grinding his hips against my clit and filling the protection with his cum, I tip over soon after him, unintelligible sounds filling the air as my nails scrape against his hot skin.
We hold each other in the sweaty silence before he disposes of the condom and comes back to bed. I sit up and throw my legs over the side, wobbly and pensive.
I need to put some space between us.
This is a man that I could get addicted to, and I know what happens when I’m blinded by everything but reality.
Jackson yawns behind me. “Give me a second and I’ll bring your bags up here, you being in the guest room is too damn far.”
I freeze, unsure of what to do.
I know what the smart thing would be.
“It’s okay, I can sleep downstairs.” I stand up finally, shoring up my resolve.
“Okay, I’ll be down in a bit.” He says casually, making me turn to look at where I think he is.
“What?”
“You made your rules, now I’m making mine.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that I’m sleeping where you are, because I fully intend on fucking you again before the sun comes up. So, whether it’s here or downstairs, I don’t care.”
My eyebrows nearly fly up to my hairline. “You wanna have sex again? In one night?”
“Unless you object or say no, while you’re here? That pussy is mine, Nomi. And I really, really like quality time with things that are mine.”
I squeeze my thighs together, need sizzling across my nerves again, like I haven’t been touched at all tonight.
Confident. Sexy. Completely certain.
Devastating.
“I…” I pause, weighing my options. “I guess we can sleep here?”
“Good choice.” He gets up, stretching his arms over his head before he comes around to my side of the bed and brushes a short kiss over my lips. “If this is the time we’ve got, let’s make the most of it, yeah?”
He turns away, heading for downstairs to get my bags. I follow him slowly, trying to quell the slight panic that’s threatening to rise.
I’m not sure Jackson is the kind of man you just leave behind once you’ve really gotten a good taste, and that fucking terrifies me.
7
Distantly, I hear a phone ringing, but there’s no way that I’m opening my eyes or getting up to confirm. Whoever it is can wait until it doesn’t feel like my eyelids weigh a hundred pounds each. I’m not getting out of this bed until someone drags me out.
I’m toasty warm, comfy and the couple next door seems to be on their best behavior.
Mercifully, the noise stops.
But then, it starts up again from my other side and I groan, shifting under the covers.
Except it’s not only the covers…it’s a large arm and a firm chest. That arm and chest moves away just as I turn onto my side fully, prying my eyes open away from the bright sunlight streaming through the windows that I wish had blackout shades.
Staring at a wide, chiseled back in full daylight brings images from mere hours before slamming into my memory. In the span of seconds, my nipples bead and my toes curl in remembrance.
It’s almost a compulsion, rising on my knees and plastering my naked body against his back. Like a cat in heat, I press my breasts against him and wrap my arms around his chest lightly, rubbing my face against his, careful with his facial hair so I don’t irritate my skin.
“What’s up, man?” He rumbles sleepily, making me freeze for all of a second before I try to move away, embarrassed that my brother is on the other end of the phone and nervous because I really don’t want him in this part of my business.
But Jackson puts an arm across mine and squeezes my hand, shaking his head even as he puts the phone on speaker.
So I stay.
“Yo, I was just calling to check-in. I called Mims but I guess she’s still sleep. She good? Tried to convince you to take her back to that dump yet?”
“Yeah, everything’s all good here. She’ll probably call you back when she grabs her phone.” He scratches his stomach before he pushes back, resting against the pillows propped against the headboard and readjusting me so I’m laying against him. I appreciate his non-answer. “Might’ve been nice if you waited until a decent hour though, considering this is my down-time.”
“Shit, I forgot the time difference over there. I’ll let you get back to bed man, you with Ansley?”
His hand stops rubbing along my side for a brief moment at the question before he starts up again, and I wonder what he’s going to say.
“We broke up. I knew it was coming, so it’s fine. But we’ll talk later.”
“Alright bro, later. And thanks for looking after my little sis, I owe you one.” He’s gone before Jackson can respond, and I hold my breath, wondering if the reminder of Chris trusting him to treat me like family will make him pull away.
He looks down at me, and I’m sure he’s going to tell me that we need to keep it to one night.
“I had a dream about fucking your mouth.” He smirks, closing his eyes and drawing light circles on the sides of my breasts. Even just that small motion is turning me on. “It was a damned good one.”
“Was it? Did it go something like this?”
Sliding my hand under his silky boxers, I spread my palm over his velvety soft, rigid cock, already at nearly full attention and pulsing against my skin.
It’s so hot, and I’m getting wet just feeling him this way. The way my body reacts to this man is almost unsettling.
But this isn’t the time to worry about that.
I’ve got a dream to bring to life.
Moving his boxers away, I shift them over his hips and butt easily, rising on my knees to drag them down his powerful legs and toss them to the covers.
“Was I on my knees? Laying down?”
He grabs my hips and pulls me back so that I’m on my knees next to his chest, then tangles his hands in my braids and brings my head to his cock.
“Just like this,” He says huskily, pulling in breath through his teeth when I lick the pre-cum beading at the tip, savoring the salty musk before I take him in my mouth and suck lightly, lowering as much as I can before I can’t fit anymore of his thickness in my mouth.
“Mm that’s good, baby. Use your hand, too.”
He switches his right hand to my hair and strokes his left hand up and down my back, then cups and squeezes my ass every time he reaches it. I wiggle playfully, wrapping a hand around his dick like he told me to and suckling harder.
“Get my cock wet, Nomi.” He murmurs, and I open my mouth, letting spit drip down while I tighten my grip and make sure he’s covered.
Then his fingers tease my aching pussy lips, making me dip my back in surprise. My gasp is muffled by him filling my mouth, and then my moan when he presses inside me easily, working the magic that it seems like only he knows how to.
I pull off his cock, my eyes nearly crossing. “You’re distracting me.” I accuse, pumping him with my hand.
“Maybe we need to work on your discipline.” I can hear the smile in his voice, and I almost smile too until he drops a firm slap on my ass and I whip my head towards him, task forgotten.
“Did you just spank me?”
He raises an eyebrow in challenge and I swallow, trying to decide if I liked it or not.
I think I need more information to go on…
Sinking down on his cock again, I suck in earnest, wanting to make him feel as good as he’s made me feel this entire time. I wiggle my ass experimentally, wondering if he’ll take the hint.
Luckily for me, I think body language is a strong suit of his.
He spanks me again, a little more sting in it this time, and I jump some but stay on track. I lick and suck at his cock and then move down to his balls, sucking each of those into my mouth lightly, playing with them on my tongue.
“Fuck yeahhhh. Keep sucking my balls just like that.” He s
tarts spreading and caressing my ass and pussy with both hands, then starts fucking me with his fingers again, rubbing my clit with his others. It feels so damned good but I can’t let him beat me at this pleasure game.
I suck, I lick, I nip lightly with my teeth and I listen to his curses and dirty talk, all the while panting and rolling my hips against his hands.
“Shit, you’re gonna make me cum, Nomi.” He growls, fucking me faster with his fingers.
“Ungh.” I grunt, bobbing my head and sucking harder.
“Fuck, baby!” He starts to pulse in my mouth, filling it with his cum and I swallow as much as I can, but some of it starts to leak from my mouth and fall on his lower abdomen. I can’t help myself…I lick that up too.
Not bad.
He grips the back of my neck and pulls me up to him, kissing me deeply before he pulls back, winking at me. “That dream was nothing compared to reality.”
“I’m glad I could start your morning off well.” I kiss him again, and follow the need to straddle him, wrapping my arms around his neck and slicking my tongue into his mouth, tangling them together. He squeezes me tight as we make-out and I love the way it feels, love feeling how strong and big and warm he is.
“You have an amazing body. I need to spend more time exploring.”
“Thank you.” I lick his cheek on a whim and he laughs.
I don’t know where that came from. I’m usually not so…playful? Not with sex. But I feel lighter with Jackson, honestly lighter than I’ve felt in months.
It’s easy to forget that we’re in a bubble and we can’t take this outside of it.
I stop thinking about that when I shift my hips and feel him hard again. The more I slide against him, the slicker I get and it’s so easy to lift up and put him right where I need him.
“Always so wet,” He squeezes my hips, and in seconds, I’m sinking down on him and I’m full…so damn full of Jackson. It’s a good discomfort, one that passes quickly. “You wanted to fuck me bad, huh?”
“As badly as you wanted to fuck me.” I shoot back, no heat behind my words because I’m certain we’re on the exact same page.
“Put your hands on the headboard. Ride me like this.” He murmurs, sitting up higher on the pillows and taking me with him. Using the wood for leverage, I bracket his body tightly with my knees and calves and rise off him, his hands cupping my ass, molding it before I come back down.
A shiver rolls through my body, pleasure radiating out from my core.
“Damn,” He breathes, eyes roving over my breasts and stomach. “Fucking sexy.”
The position puts my upper body on full display and he licks and bites at my body whenever he pleases; the underside of my breasts, my nipples, my stomach. I circle my hips, moving faster. Soon, he’s slamming me down and I’m loving every second of it, moaning his name and wondering how the hell I happened to find someone who fucks me this well.
“Spank me,” I groan out, dropping my head and bending my body to kiss him. “Please, I’m gonna cum.”
Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!
The slight edge of pain makes me hiss, grinding down on him and throwing my head back, feeling the orgasm start at my toes and rush through my veins. “Jackson!”
He runs a soothing hand down my back, kissing my skin as he leaves little love bites across it.
“Hell, Nomi. I could fuck you forever.”
He holds me tight and pumps his hips up over and over, and my own pleasure fades into the background but doesn’t fade away completely. I ride the mellow waves as Jackson finds his own, burying his face in my neck and groaning low as he cums.
“I think you’re turning me into an addict.” I mumble, sagging against his body.
“I’m always willing to give you a fix.” He hugs me to him, and then somehow, he has the strength to carry me to the bathroom, where we shower and can’t resist having each other again.
8
“Is telling me about dance off limits?” Jacksons asks, cutting into his stack of pancakes easily with the side of his fork. We’re at a small breakfast place that’s walking distance from his house, thank god, because I’m starting to feel a little tender from all the sex.
“No, that’s a safe enough topic.” I tease, popping a crispy potato cube into my mouth after I dip it into the ketchup pooled on the side of my plate. “My mom put me in dance classes when I was 2, and I’ve done it ever since. Ballet, jazz, ballroom, hip hop. I did competition teams up until I was a sophomore in high school, then I left that to focus on internships. But I was a majorette in college and on the dance team, so I was always on the go. Had to be doing something.”
“And now?”
“I dance in my free time, which I’ve had a lot of. There are studios around, so I’ve done some classes or I’d use the basement. Even if I don’t do a full hour or two dancing, I try to stay limber.”
He blows out a breath, shaking his head. “Shouldn’t have asked. Now I’m just thinking about the different ways I can bend you when I fuck you.”
“Such a one track mind. I’m not thinking about sex at all.” I finish off my French toast, then deliberately swipe my finger through some syrup on my plate before I suck it off innocently.
He narrows his eyes across the table, lips quirking. “Not at all, huh?”
“Nope.”
“Okay.” He drinks his orange juice, setting the glass on the table when it’s empty. There’s a droplet clinging to the corner of his upper lip and I really want to lean across the table and lick it off, but we’re in public. “Don’t forget to call Chris back or he’ll probably call me again. I don’t want to outright lie to him.”
“Just lies of omission?”
“Exactly. Glad we’re on the same page.” He smiles, shaking his head. “I’m developed enough to know that you’re a woman who can make your own decisions, regardless of what your brother thinks is appropriate. But I’m definitely not blasting it in a newsletter.”
“Are you ashamed of me, Jackson whose last name I don’t know?” I fake like I’m scandalized, pushing my plate aside and resting my chin in my hands to peer at him.
His face is really well put-together. Like, not a single feature seems out of place. His lips are the right amount of full, they soften his strong jaw and nose, and his lively eyes and thick lashes are just the cherry on top of a decked-out deluxe sundae.
The banana on this thing is already huge and tasty.
“What was that?”
I blink hard, focusing on the amusement in Jackson’s face. “What? What was what?”
“What’d you just think about?”
“Tap-dancing, obviously.”
“You’re a terrible liar.”
“How do you know? You don’t have enough lies from me to compare.”
“Then let’s play two lies and a truth.”
I snort, resting my elbows on the table again. “That’s not how you play.”
He crosses his arms on the table, leaning in just like I am. “We’re doing the updated version.”
It’s a small, cozy diner and leaning on the table puts us only a foot apart at most.
His eyes are like pools of warm, green streaked honey and it’s almost too intense, holding his gaze, but I don’t want to look away.
“Do I have something on my face?” He reaches up, brushing his jaw on both sides but I shake my head.
“No, you’re just pretty.”
“Then I’m in good company.” He leans forward and steals a kiss, and I hold him to me with a hand on his cheek when he moves to back away.
“So cheesy.” I murmur against his soft lips, my lips curved.
“You can’t judge me for my sensitive side.”
“Oh, is that what it is?”
“Of course.”
“I think you’re just buttering me up so I keep sleeping with you.”
“I don’t need to butter you up for that.”
“You saying I’m easy?” I tilt my head, watching the sunligh
t fall across his face.
He watches me like he’s actually listening to me, like he’s interested in what’s going to come out of my mouth next. I don’t feel like I have to think too hard about coming across the wrong way or wonder if he’s not going to like something I say.
Maybe it’s just being with someone that I know is temporary, making it seem like it’s him and not the circumstances.
He looks at me with something on his face that I can’t pin down. I’m two seconds away from fidgeting because it’s unnerving to feel like someone’s really looking at you.
“I think this is easy.” He finally says, voice low. “And I like that.”
Caught in his darkening gaze, I stretch the little bit of distance between us for a soft kiss that has much more care in it than I want to admit.
“Me too.” I whisper, “Now, who’s going first?”
“I used to be in a rap group, I hate rutabaga, and I have two sisters.”
“If the truth isn’t that you hate rutabaga, I’m concerned about your taste buds.”
“Unfortunately, my name was J-Smoov and I’m an only child.”
I laugh aloud, poking him with my foot. We’re sitting on the massive couch, and he’s impressively dividing his attention between talking and playing 2k20. I’m sending out my resume to a few places and resting my feet against his thigh under the throw blanket. We stopped our little game when he went to run a few errands and I found a dance class to drop into, but now we’re just hanging out.
“Your name was not J-Smoov.”
“It was, and no, I’m not rapping for you because I’m old enough now to know how shitty I am at it.”
“Well that’s no fun. Not even a few bars?”
“Nope, because you’ll forever see me as corny.”
“Maybe I already think you’re corny.”
He turns his head, mouth twisted with skepticism and eyebrows uneven. “You don’t.”
“I could.”
“When did you think I was corny? Was it when your legs were wrapped around my head or when you were riding my dick? Or was it when you called me pretty?”