by M. E. Carter
“I’m not having this conversation with you, douchebag,” I quipped, heading toward the coffeemaker.
“He got laid, Vanessa!” I could hear him yelling through the phone. “He finally got a piece of ass . . . oh . . . shit . . . stop twisting my nipple, woman! I can be happy my man finally got off somewhere besides his hand!”
I shook my head as I listened to strange noises that could only indicate they were fighting over control of the phone.
“Jason,” Vanessa finally said through the line. I guess she won that scuffle. “Don’t answer any of my husband’s perverted questions.”
“Just keeping it real!” Deuce yelled in the background.
“Michael!” she yelled. “Be quiet! As I was saying, Addison is a really nice woman. I like her a lot. Don’t answer anything you don’t want to answer. No matter what kind of inappropriate details about our sex life he thinks are great locker room talk. Yeah, I know about that. And if he doesn’t quit, I’ll make sure to tell you the truth about that thing he thinks he does so well . . .”
“None of that, woman!” he yelled in the background, cutting her off mid-sentence. “Is nothing sacred?”
“That’s what I thought,” she said. “You guys have a nice day. We’ll talk to you later.”
Before she could hang up, I heard Deuce one last time yelling, “He got some puuuuuss . . .”
Click.
Fucking Deuce. Now I was wide-awake. And curious about the media’s reaction to Addison. So I grabbed my laptop and started searching.
The headlines about us pretty much all said the same thing . . . I was a taken man. Swooped off the market at the hands of a beautiful damsel named Addison.
Ok, so that’s not exactly what it said. But all the articles did have kind of an unrealistic, fairy tale quality about them. Young, rich, single man falls for beautiful young, single woman. For the most part, the articles were really nice about Addison, talking about how charming and kind she was. Complimenting how beautiful she looked. The pictures were really nice, too. I made a mental note to ask Adam if he could get ahold of some of them.
Until I got to April Gill’s story. It was obvious she had done some digging.
I was pissed. Not only was there detailed information about Addison and Jaxon in the article, but many of the comments below the article were brutal.
I slammed the laptop closed and leaned back in my chair, having seen enough. I sat there with my hand over my mouth, trying to figure out how to warn Addison off the internet. I was used to the negative press. When you were in the public eye, there was always someone willing to try and tear you down.
Addison would probably get used to having her character attacked. Neither one of us would like it, but she would get used to it. However, giving out information on Jaxon was not ok. It would never be ok to force a child into the spotlight like that. And I wasn’t sure how to fix it.
Without thinking about it, I texted Lindsay.
Me: Did you see the newest articles yet?
Lindsay: Yep. You clean up nice, you stud, you!
Me: HA! Thanks. But we have a potential problem. Did you see April Gill’s article yet?
Lindsay: Nope. Hang on. Let me check.
A minute later, she texted me again.
Lindsay: Oh shit. That’s not good.
Me: Nope. No it’s not.
Lindsay: How is she taking it?
Me: She’s not even awake yet. I’m working on how to tell her. Can you do me a favor?
Lindsay: Only if you answer my question first.
Me: Sure. Shoot.
Lindsay: SHE SPENT THE NIGHT?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!
I laughed. Leave it to Lindsay to make me laugh in the middle of my freak out.
Me: Yes. She spent the night. Yes. It was an awesome night. No. I will not give you details. Now about my favor . . .
Lindsay: Ew. I didn’t ask for details, you perv. I think I just threw up a little bit in my mouth. What favor?
Me: Can you text your principal? I’m worried about security now that Gill told everyone where Jax goes to school.
Lindsay: Good idea. I’ll let her know what’s going on just in case.
Me: Tell her I’ll pay for extra security at the school if you need it for Jax or at the front door or anything.
Lindsay: I will. Don’t worry so much. We’re teachers. We’d stand in front of a bullet for these kids.
Me: It’s not the bullet I’m worried about at this point. It’s the paparazzi. That’s worse.
Lindsay: I know. I’ll take care of it.
Me: Thanks. I owe you one.
Lindsay: Yep. I think a rousing duet with my daughter of “Let it Go” in your old choir costume might do the trick.
Me: And risk that being put on YouTube?
Lindsay: Hell no! TMZ. A girl’s gotta make a living.
I laughed and threw my phone on the table as Addison came traipsing through the room toward me. She was wearing one of my old practice jerseys, which was hot as hell. But the rest of her looked . . . well . . . liked she had just woken up.
“Good morning,” I said with a smile as she walked over and climbed onto my lap, snuggling into my chest. “I take it you’re not quite awake yet?”
“I haven’t had coffee yet,” she mumbled into my chest.
“I can tell,” I said, kissing the top of her head and getting poked in the lip. “Ow. What was that?”
She reached up and felt around. “Oh,” she said. “Sorry. I guess I forgot to pull all the bobby pins out of my hair last night.”
We started pulling all the pins out. Every time I thought we were done, one of us would find another section of hair we had missed.
“Good god, woman. How many of these things did you use?” I asked, running my fingers through her hair again, making sure we had gotten them all.
“You can’t achieve true beauty without at least a couple dozen bobby pins securing an updo,” she said, shaking her hair out. “That feels so much better,” she said.
“It looks better, too,” I teased. “Not so . . . Lion King,” I said, waving my hands around her head.
She swatted my arm and giggled. “Did you have a good time last night?” I asked her as she snuggled into me again.
“Which part? The gala or the . . . after-party?”
I snorted a laugh. “Either, I guess. But I wanna know about the after-party.”
She looked up at me with raccoon eyes from her leftover makeup. I didn’t say anything because I preferred her on my lap to being in my bathroom washing her face.
“Last night was . . . is it weird to say it was one of the most magical nights of my life?” she asked.
I smiled. “That’s not weird at all. It was magical for me, too, babe,” I said and kissed her. Then I stood up with her in my arms.
“What are you doing?” she squealed as I carried her into the kitchen.
“Getting my woman coffee,” I said, placing her on the counter.
“That sounds great.” She stretched her arms over her head, making the jersey ride up enough for me to see she had put little white panties on before coming out of the bedroom. Well that sucked.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked when she caught me staring at her thighs.
“Because your legs turn me on.”
She laughed. “Are you kidding me? These thunder thighs?” she asked, gesturing toward her legs.
“Uh, excuse me,” I interrupted, forgetting about the coffee and walking over to stand between her legs. “These are not thunder thighs. I love these sexy thighs.” I leaned down and bit her gently where her hip met her leg.
“That tickles,” she giggled, pulling away. “Who knew cellulite would be such a turn on to you?” she said breathily as I started kissing behind her ear, her hands diving into my hair.
My hands grabbed her hips and I scooted her toward me. “My mother used to say cellulite is really the fingerprints of God. Which means,” I started nibbling down her neck, “it�
��s God’s way of saying, ‘Here, Jason. Look what I made just for you.’” I grabbed her legs, hitching them around my waist as I kissed her hard, tangling my tongue with hers.
She wrapped her arms around my neck and rocked her hips against me as I rocked back into her.
“I wanna take you on the counter, right now,” I said. “But I think there might not be enough room in front of those cabinets for what I have in mind.” I looked around the room, eyes zeroing in on the table we were just sitting at.
I looked back at her. “What about the table?”
She smiled shyly and a slight blush crept up her neck. Without saying a word, I knew she’d never had sex on a table before. Oh, this was gonna be fun.
I grabbed onto her thighs and picked her up, carrying her to the table where I laid her down gently. Since I worked my way down last night, I figured today I would shake things up a bit and work my way up. But before I got too worked up, I needed some supplies.
“I need to go grab a condom, babe,” I said as I kissed her.
“I’m on the pill and I got tested after I found out Austin was cheating on me,” she said quickly. “So. We’re good.”
“That’s good to know,” I said, standing straight so I could look her up and down. “I would love to go bareback. I’ve never done that before. Are you comfortable with that?”
She nodded and bit her lip. That’s all the confirmation I needed.
I started kissing her ankle and worked my way up her calf to her knee, stopping only to glance in those beautiful brown eyes. I smirked and continued my path, licking her inner thigh at a slow, leisurely pace. When I got to the apex, I placed a gentle kiss on the crotch of her panties. She gasped.
I looked up at her and smiled. “I take it it’s been a while for this?”
“I got a bikini wax just in case,” she said, the words rushing out of her mouth, laced with desire. I chuckled.
“Well, in that case,” I grabbed the waistband of her panties and started pulling them down her thighs, “I need to inspect what kind of job they did.”
I kept my eyes locked on hers as I pulled her panties off, then put them up to my nose and inhaled her scent. I didn’t care if it seemed weird because it just flat out turned me on. I promptly threw her panties over my shoulder, making her laugh. She gasped when I put my hands on her knees and spread her open to my gaze.
Damn. That was a beautiful sight. She was just perfect and I couldn’t resist any longer. I leaned over and kissed her there like I would kiss her mouth . . . deeply and with a lot of tongue. And little nibbles here and there. Her hands immediately grabbed my hair. Between her taste, the noises she made, and her scratching my head with her nails, I thought I was gonna come before I even got inside her.
Before she could orgasm, I pulled away and slid two fingers inside her. Oral sex got her close, but I wasn’t going to miss out on seeing the look on her face when she finally came. I found the soft ridges inside her and began stroking them gently. When I moved my thumb to brush her clit, she started to spasm around my fingers. Her entire body arched off the table as she threw her head back and yelled my name, riding out the pleasure I had just given her.
I continued stroking her gently, being careful not to overdo it, knowing she was probably sensitive after the intensity of that orgasm.
It took a minute, but her body finally relaxed and she looked down at me.
“That was incredible,” she said with a dazed look on her face.
“And it’s not over yet,” I answered, pulling my fingers out from inside her and sticking them in my mouth to suck them dry. She tasted just as good as I knew she would. I quickly dropped my boxer briefs to the floor and sprung free.
“Wait!” she yelled, sitting up suddenly. “Don’t you want . . . you know,” she said shyly as she licked her lips and grabbed my shaft.
A half-hiss, half-chuckle left my mouth as I reached for the hem of my jersey, lifted it over her head, leaving her naked and sitting on my table.
Naked. And sitting on my table. Holy shit, I loved my life.
“Baby, look at me,” I said, reaching my hands up to cup her cheeks. “If you really want to do that, you can. But I really, really wanna take you on this table. I’m afraid if you start to suck on me, I’m not gonna make it that far. But it’s up to you. I want every part of this to be about you.” I kissed her softly to drive my point home. This wasn’t a mindless fuck for me. This was the woman I loved and me . . . expressing our feelings for each other.
And then Addison did something that shocked me.
She pulled away from me, laid down and grabbed the edge of the table above her head. She spread her legs wide and said, in the sultriest voice I had ever heard, “So then fuck me like you mean it.”
Holy.
Shit.
If I wasn’t so desperate to be inside her at that moment, I would have dropped to my knees in thanksgiving because this was my heaven.
Instead, I grabbed her by the hips and pulled her to the edge of the table. I grabbed my shaft and placed it at her entrance, locking eyes with her the whole time.
“You ready?” I asked, knowing her answer would be yes. But I wanted to enjoy the anticipation just a little bit longer.
“I’m always ready for you,” she said with a smirk.
In one quick thrust, I was back inside of her and we groaned simultaneously. I watched her breasts sway as I thrust in and out of her, feeling her warmth envelop me. Nothing had ever felt like this before. Sex was one thing. But sex with the woman you love, there was nothing that could possibly compare.
“Jason,” she said, still holding on to the table above her. “Fuck me harder.”
I smiled as I grabbed her hips, thrusting into her at a furious pace. I could feel myself getting close, so I grabbed her hips one more time and lifted her ass off the table by about two inches, hitting her g-spot.
It worked. She tensed and began to spasm around me again, causing me to follow closely behind. I didn’t think I could have an orgasm as intense as the one I had last night. Apparently, I was wrong. I was quickly learning that it wasn’t the moment that had done it to me. It was the woman.
I laid my body over hers gently for several minutes as we both caught our breath. She ran her fingers through my hair and down my back. I could get used to this.
“Jason.”
“Mmmm,” I said sleepily. I could use a nap now.
“You realize we’re gonna have to disinfect your table now, right?” she asked, breaking up the moment.
I took a deep breath and pushed myself off of her. “Yeah. But it was so worth it.”
She giggled as she grabbed my hand so I could pull her up to her feet. “Yes it was.”
I pulled her to me and kissed her, grabbing her ass in the process.
“What time is it anyway?” she asked, looking around for a clock.
“Too early to ask me what time it is,” I answered, kissing down her neck again and rubbing my hands over her back. I couldn’t believe that I was up for another round already. “We still have to have sex in the shower . . .”
“Really,” she answered, putting her arms around my neck again.
“Um hmm. On a chair . . .”
“A chair?” she asked, leaning her head back to give me easier access to her throat.
“And the bed again.”
“That’s a whole lot of sex,” she said with a sigh. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to walk tomorrow.”
“That’s ok,” I mumbled into her neck. “We’ll just stay in bed all day so you won’t have to worry about walking.”
“Mmmm. As nice as that sounds,” she said, pulling away, finally finding the clock over my stove, “Mick is supposed to meet me at the house at ten. If I’m gonna be there on time, we need to leave in about forty-five minutes.”
“Fine,” I sighed as I grabbed her hand to lead us to the bathroom. Let’s get you all soaped up before we have to go.”
We probably got more dirty in the s
hower than we got clean after all the hot sex we had in there. It was only one more time but it was amazing. Once she realized my body was raring to go again, Addison just turned around and bent over at the waist, willing me to take her from behind.
I was the luckiest guy ever. Three times we’d had sex so far. All three times were in different positions. All three times were amazing. She was way more than I had even dreamed of when I was getting myself off thinking about her for the last couple of months.
She was shy, which made me feel like an alpha male. But she wasn’t reserved at all which was sexy as hell. Once she got over the hump of being nervous about her body, it seemed to make her happy how much I wanted to look at her. And I did. It was impossible, but I wanted to look and touch and kiss every inch of her body all at the same time. It was frustrating because I couldn’t do everything at once. What a great frustration to have.
By the time we made it to my car, we didn’t have time to stop and eat. Addison promised she’d make me brunch when we got to her place, so I figured I could wait.
“How many models and actresses have you dated, anyway?” she asked as we sped up the highway. Traffic was thin with it being a Sunday morning, so we were making great time.
“Do you mean, dated dated?” I asked. “Or just sex?” I was trying to be honest but was also holding my breath that I hadn’t just said the wrong thing.
“I knew better than to ask that question,” she said, shaking her head. “Never mind. I don’t think I want to know.”
“Why are you so worried about how many famous people I’ve dated?” I asked, glancing back and forth from her to the road in front of me.
“I’m just curious,” she said nonchalantly. I looked at her like I didn’t believe her. “No really. This is not an ‘emotional mess’ sort of question. It’s an honest to goodness ‘curiosity’ question.”
“Ok then.” I quirked my mouth to the side, thinking about it. “I’ve only really dated Sara Perez and Darcey Janes.”