by Ann Garner
His lips slide down even further, closing over the tip of my breast, causing me to gasp again. “Please don’t stop.” I rock my body against his, wiggling as close to him as possible without actually crawling inside of him, which I totally would have done had it been possible.
He never moves his mouth off my skin when he shifts us, pulling me under him before his talented mouth shifts from one breast to the other, and I wrap my fingers in the messy strands of his hair, holding him in place. His soft lips shift lower, moving to the underside of my breast, leaving a trail of scorched skin in their wake. They slip and slide their way down over my stomach, his tongue sneaking out to lap at my navel.
I move, enough so that my body can cradle his more comfortably, my knees on either side of his waist.
“You sleep naked.”
He chuckles, “I’m well aware.” Hooking his fingers in the top of my jeans he tugs them down slightly. When had he gotten them undone? His lips skim across one hip bone, sending fresh shivers through my body as he pays similar attention to the other side and I really don’t care when, I’m just really fucking glad he had.
Wiggling my hips I encourage him to take them the rest of the way off. Only one thing gives me pause. What underwear had I put on that morning?
Jacob pulls me up just enough to get my jeans the rest the way down my body and I’m relieved to see the faint edges of lace come into view as he moves them.
“You should come over naked.” He says, his mouth following the jeans as they move down my legs. “It would only be fair.”
“I’m sure your fraternity brothers would love that.”
He pauses, tilting his head up enough that I can see the frown on his face. “You’re right. Bad plan.” His hands settle on my hips, fingers dipping inside the edges of my lace panties as a grin crosses his face. “New plan, you can strip the minute you step in my room.” His eyes never leave mine as he tugs on the lace, slowly pulling them down the same trail my jeans had taken only moments before. Only when I’m completely naked do his eyes move down the length of my body. “It’s a new rule.”
“What is?”
“You’re no longer allowed to wear clothes in my room, Pix. It’s a damn shame to cover this up.” Then his head dips down and his tongue trails like liquid heat against the inside of one of my thighs and I practically jackknife off the bed at the rush of pleasure that bubbles through me.
Completely of their own accord my hands move down, tangling in the short strands of his hair and holding him against me while his mouth moves in and takes over. He moves that crazy talented tongue from one side to the other and on a gasp I hear myself call his name, “Jacob.” His tongue dips in, before flicking out and up over the most sensitive part of my entire body. “Holy fuck, where did you learn to do that?”
“Do you really want to talk about that right his moment?”
“I, ah…” My eyes squeeze shut as another huff of air escapes my lips. “I want to send whoever taught you that a fucking thank you card.”
His chuckle resonates through my entire body, starting at the core and moving up like liquid heat to every square inch of my skin. Pulling my legs up I dig my heels into the mattress at the same time as my fingers move to clench against his comforter. If he moves his tongue like that one more time, I might start floating off the bed entirely.
I feel it building, gathering together like a ball of fire low in my core, right before it bursts and it feels like fireworks shooting straight out my body. Tiny pinpricks of pleasure burn all over my skin, and the touch of his hands brushing along my hips is nearly painful.
Gasping I try desperately to wiggle away from the contact, but he holds me in place, fingers digging slightly into my skin to keep me right where he wants me. His tongue swipes over me one more time before he levers himself up my body, his mouth brushing along various parts of my skin along the way.
When his mouth finally lands on mine and I can taste myself on his lips I find I’m suddenly standing right on the edge again preparing for a second round of fireworks to go off. I trail my hands up and over his shoulders before running them down over his chest.
I pull my mouth away, my eyes locking in on his, and I’m shocked at what I see there. Terrified really, of what I see there. But more terrified of the responding emotion I feel sliding around inside of me. Brushing at his hair, I smile, and tell myself that this isn’t the time to over analyze what’s happening between us. There will be plenty of time for that later when I don’t have a very naked Jacob stretched out on top of me.
“You’ve been holding out on me, Jacob Ross.” I murmur, trailing my hands down his back, and over the incredibly solid muscles of his ass.
“Is that so?”
His voice has gone husky as my fingers move over his skin. The sexy sound of his voice sparks a feminine power inside of me and I feel like the most beautiful woman on the plant, listening to the way my touch affects him. I skim my fingers over his hips, and his eyes close in response as he draws in a breath.
Using my hands on his hips I urge him on to his back.
“Want to see what I’ve been holding back on?”
Leaning over, I press an open mouth kiss against his chest, tongue flicking out to lick across his skin. I shimmy down his body, tasting every inch of skin I pass along my way. I let my eyes flick up to his just seconds before I close my mouth around him, swirling my tongue around his tip at the same time I wrap my hand around the base.
“Shit.” He groans the word. “Holy fucking shit.”
I smile around him. Jacob hardly every cusses. So to know that I was bringing him to that, makes me almost giddy. I make a low sound in my throat, letting it vibrate around him.
I’ve kept my eyes open, trained on his face, watching his jaw clench, the skin stretching taunt over the muscle beneath. His head has tipped back, so I can no longer see his eyes, and I wish for a second for that connection. He must want the same thing because his head tilts back down, eyes clashing into mine just before he grasps my shoulders and pulls me up.
“Now.” He mutters. “I need you now.”
He rolls us again, sliding home as he does and I gasp at the feeling of having him inside of me brings. It’s the most perfect moment in the world. It’s everything I could have possibly imagined and so much more that I couldn’t have dreamed of. My imagination simply wasn’t that vast.
The perfect moment is only topped when he moves for the first time, and the breathy gasp that escapes my lips is followed by a moan of pure pleasure that would have embarrassed me had I not been so wrapped up in ecstasy.
His head dips down, one mouth closing over the tip of one breast as he settles into a rhythm that is designed to drive me wild. A task for which he is ridiculously skilled. He levers himself up on one hand, letting the other drift down between our bodies to find that incredibly sensitive part of mine.
I don’t even have time to feel my body tighten before I explode, and I swear for a moment I can actually see the fireworks exploding out of my body and lighting up the room, the feeling is so powerful that rushes through me. He follows me over the edge of sanity only seconds later, his body dropping down on top of mine, and it’s the most wonderful weight in the entire world. He tilts his head to the side, just enough for his lips to brush against the skin right behind my ear.
“That was,” he pauses, “I don’t have words,” he finally says.
“Orgasmic?” I offer, feeing the rumble of his laughter before he says, “To say the least.”
He rolls onto his back, pulling me snuggly up against his side. I love to cuddle. I know it’s such a girly thing to admit, but there is nothing better than aligning my body up to his, my softness against the hard planes of his body. My hand snakes up to rest on his stomach.
“I just want to say, this wasn’t what I had in mind when I came over.”
“No?” He drops another kiss to the side of my head. “Because I have this in mind pretty much every time we’re together.”
“Ha! Smart ass.”
His fingers dance up and down along my spine, eliciting a shiver. “What did you have in mind?”
“I can’t remember, but this was a million times better.”
Chapter Twenty
The phone rings in the middle of the night, the pulsing beat of some song I couldn’t remember setting as my ringtone shattering the quiet of the room. Lifting my head, I look on the floor through half closed eyes for my jeans, where I had left my phone. The phone finally quiets, and I drop my head back down on Jacob’s chest. His arm tightens, pulling me closer against him. I’ve just snuggled back in, closing my eyes again when the phone goes off again.
“Jesus.” I mutter, before sliding over Jacob. I move across the floor, listening to the music playing to help me find my phone in the dark. It’s a number I don’t recognize, but I swipe my finger over the screen anyway pulling it up to my ear so I can bark a quick, “What the fuck?” into the phone.
There is music for background noise, but I can barely hear it. Someone has obviously placed their hand over the speaker because everything is muffled. I hear a muffled voice saying, “What did you say her name was again?”
“Who the hell is this?” I demand. Who’s calling me without even knowing who I am at two in the fucking morning? The music becomes louder, as the hand covering the speaker obviously drops away. “Is this Grace Marsh?”
“Yes, who is this?”
“Grace?” Jacob has propped himself up on his elbows in the bed, and is watching me. He looks gorgeous all sleep rumpled, and sexy. “Who is it?”
“Is this Grace Marsh?” The feminine voice demands again before I can answer Jacob.
“Yes, this is Grace. Who’s this?”
“My name is Collins Riley. I work at The Black Heart. I have a guy here by the name of Grant Michaels. He’s in no shape to drive, and he told me to call you for a ride.”
I close my eyes, rubbing one hand absently along the nape of my neck at the tension I feel building there. Of course this is about Grant. Why wouldn’t it be? My life so very obviously sucks.
“I’ll be there soon.”
“He ran up quite the tab,” she says before I can hang up. “I don’t think he can cover it, or I would have just put him in a cab.”
“It’s no problem. I’ll take care of it.”
I push end on the phone, my head dropping. I know that I’m the only one in town available to go and get him. Cole and Delaney had opted to stay with my parents for the rest of Thanksgiving break, Holden had gone off with Ally, and Robby was visiting family in Georgia. So that left me.
Perfect.
“Everything okay, Pix?”
I lick my dry lips before turning to look at him. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s all right. That was a bartender at The Black Heart. I need to go pick up Grant. He’s too drunk to drive.”
Silence stretches heavily between us. Then I hear his gruff voice say, “You can’t be serious.”
I’m shimmying back into my jeans, eyes scanning the room for my socks and shoes. I scoop them up, settling on the bed to pull them on. “What am I supposed to do, Jacob? He’s drunk. He can’t drive.”
“Tell him to call a fucking cab.” Jacob mutters under his breath, but he’s moving, too. Stalking across the room to grab a pair of track pants out of his dresser.
“I can’t tell him to call a cab.”
Jacob yanks a henley over his head, pulling it down across his chest. “I know you can’t.”
I finish tying my shoes before dropping my feet back on the ground. “He can’t afford it for one, and because no matter what else, he was my friend, Jacob.”
“I get it, Grace.” Jacob settles on the bed next to me so he can pull on his socks. “Give me a second and I’ll go with you.”
Oh, won’t that be a lovely experience, I think. My drunk ex-boyfriend, the guy I just slept with, and me all in a car together. Because that’s not a recipe for disaster. I push to my feet, moving across the room to find my purse and dig out my car keys. “I appreciate that, Jacob, but I can go by myself.”
He pulls up short. “What?” It’s honest confusion on his face as his eyes meet mine. “That’s crazy. I’ll go with you.”
“I’m going to pick him up by myself, Jacob.” I grab my sweatshirt off the bed, yanking it down over of my tank top.
“What the hell, Pixie?”
I pull up short at the hurt in his voice, turning to face him. “It’ll be better this way.”
“Better for who?”
I run my fingers through my hair, trying to tame the curls into some semblance of order. “God, this is awkward.”
Frowning, Jacob moves to stand in front of me. “Only because you’re making it that way. I’m really not thrilled that he’s calling you for a ride in the middle of the night, but it is what it is. Let’s go get him and come back here.”
He runs his hands down my arms, and more than anything I just want to say ‘fuck it’ and crawl back in bed with him. Sensing my hesitation, Jacob tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “What are you doing, Grace?”
I shake my head. “Nothing,” I whisper, pulling my hands out of his. “I’ll come back after I get him dropped off, okay?”
His silence tells me that is, in fact, not okay that I don’t want him to go with me. Having never seen an angry Jacob, I’m not quite sure what to expect.
But I think I’m about to find out.
“What are you doing, Grace?” He asks again. “Why are you pulling away?”
Because the swirl of emotions swirling around inside of me scares the hell out of me. Because beautiful Jacob Ross barely hesitated before rolling out of bed to go with me to pick up Grant, and it’s a startling reminder that he is probably too nice for me. “Don’t do that.” I whisper. “Don’t make this about us.”
“Isn’t it? You’re leaving my fucking bed to go and pick up your drunk ex from a seedy bar in a shitty part of town. How is that not about us?”
“I can’t argue about this now.”
His entire body is tense. “That’s right. You have to go to him. Alone.” His clipped voice is like daggers piercing my skin.
“That’s not fair, Jacob. You’re not being fair.”
“What in the hell are you talking about, Grace?” Jacob asks, clearly exasperated. His movements are jerky as he shoves one hand through his hair, sending the scattered strands into further disarray. “You’re the one walking out of here in the middle of the night. Why won’t you let me help you? Is it because it’s him?”
“Please.” I whisper again. “Please don’t be mad at me, Jacob. I’ll come back as soon as I drop him off. We can talk about this then. Please, Jacob.” Maybe by then, I’ll have a handle on the myriad of emotions threatening to swallow me whole.
He crosses his arms over his chest, the muscles bunching and moving with the motion. I lick my lips, waiting for his response. But I can see it in his eyes before he answers. I can see it in the way the ice blue of his eyes go to frost.
“So you can leave me to go to him the next time he calls?”
“That’s not what this is.”
He arches one brow, “isn’t it? You’ve left me before to go to him.”
“That wasn’t about him. I went for Delaney.”
“It doesn’t matter.” He runs a hand through his hair, scattering the strands. “What matters is that you’re leaving me to go to him. Again.” His words sound so final. “If you aren’t all in, Grace, then you need to let me know now.”
“I’m all in, Jacob. I’m so fucking all in.” I lay a hand on his arm, feeling the muscle bunch and strain under my touch. “But I don’t think walking into that bar with you beside me is the smartest idea right now. Tell me you understand.”
“What I understand is that you’re walking away from me right now. To go to him.”
He moves away from me, and God help me I feel the shift in our relationship as if it’s a tangible thing. Now I want to go pick Grant up from the
bar if for nothing else than to kill him myself.
“There’s no one else to get him.” I try to keep my voice even, but the tears are threatening still, and I hear the catch, as I blink furiously to keep them inside. I take a step towards him, reaching out to touch him. He moves further out of my reach so I drop my hand. “I’ll come back after I drop him off.”
He doesn’t even hesitate. “No.”
“Jacob, please.”
“Not tonight, Grace. Don’t come back tonight.”
I stare at him for a few more moments, but he’s not looking at me. “Okay,” I whisper, licking my lips again. “Okay, I won’t come back tonight.”
I quietly pull the door closed behind me, and head down the stairs and out of the frat house.
Collins Riley is not what I was expecting.
Not that I had given her a lot of thought since she’d called, but I’d been picturing some mid aged woman edging towards fat, wearing clothes that belonged on her sixteen-year old daughter, and a bad perm in her bleached out hair.
The bar is encased in shadows, broken up only by the occasional beam of light from dimmed lamps. There’s music still spilling into the room out of a juke box settled against the far wall behind a couple of pool tables. The room is empty, except for Grant who is sitting at the bar, his head dropped down on his folded arms, and a pretty blonde who is wiping glasses out with a white rag.
Not that pretty really describes her accurately at all.
Her wheat colored hair hangs halfway down her back in a cascade of loose curls, and she has eyes that I swear look violet in the dim light. She’s wearing a skinny black tank top that just barely reaches the top band of her low rise jeans. Full lips, high cheekbones, and I’ve never in my life been jealous of how another girl looks.
I’d trade my looks with hers in a heartbeat.
Grant’s head is turned toward me, and I can see the bandage over his eyes has been removed. His nose looks swollen, when it hadn’t the last time I’d seen him, and the faint edges of a bruise swirl around his right eye.
Collins glances up as I step up to the bar, a half smile pulling her lips up as she sets one glass down and reaches for another. “You Grace?”