Claimed: A For Her Novel

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Claimed: A For Her Novel Page 9

by Alexa Riley


  He brings his hands to my shoulders and starts to rub.

  “I’ll give you an hour to quit that,” I moan, closing my eyes and letting my head fall back.

  He laughs and kisses my neck. “Make it two and you’ve got a deal.”

  There are three bedrooms here, yet he put all my things in his room. One side of the closet is completely empty, and since he brought all my hangers, he went on and on about how easy it was for me to move in.

  I corrected him a few times, but he still keeps saying that I moved in with him. Finally, I just let it go and let him have it. For now.

  When he showed me the kitchen, I swear I almost said I loved him. The space is huge—a cook’s dream. Although he says he dabbles, he’s not very good. I don’t know if that’s possible with every tool right in front of you. I ended up making us some sandwiches out of what he had in his fridge, but he promised we could go to the market and stock up so that I could cook to my heart’s content. I’m already dreaming about the things I can make in there, stuff that I never had the space for at my place.

  Thinking about my place reminds me of my sister and the burgeoning mess that I left at my apartment.

  “I can feel you tense. You’re supposed to be relaxing. Would you like me to distract you?” He rubs lower down my front and moves to my breasts.

  All annoyances over my sister’s surprise visit vanish, just like all my problems do in his arms.

  “See. Much better.” His lips are on my neck, and he traces kisses up and down.

  One of his hands stays on my breast as the other moves down between my legs. I can’t see through the bubbles, but I can feel his fingers as they find my clit. The sensation brings all the memories from last night flooding back, and I want more of what we shared. Only this time, I want Jordan to feel it, too.

  I feel the length of his cock against my back, and I reach around between us to touch him.

  He hisses in my ear when my hand makes contact, and his movements on my pussy still. “Go slow,” he whispers and goes back to petting me.

  I touch him gently like he’s touching me. Neither of us is in a hurry for this to be over, so we take our time.

  I love the feel of him in my hand. His length is bigger than anything I’ve seen, but it’s not as if I have a ton of experience with penises. But even from the limited porn I’ve watched, I can tell Jordan has been blessed. He pulses against my palm, heavy with need.

  “You feel so perfect in my arms. Better than I ever dreamed of all those nights I sat in this tub alone, stroking my cock and thinking of you.”

  It’s incredibly hard to concentrate on giving someone pleasure when you’re getting it, but that doesn’t seem to stop Jordan. The hand he has between my legs is tormenting me, while the one on my breast is nearly as maddening. I’m climbing close to an orgasm, and I don’t know how much longer I can hold it back.

  “Every time you walked away from me, I would stare at your ass so I could imagine it later when I was coming, thinking about having my hands on it and gripping it as I made love to you.”

  He circles my clit, and it’s the steady, even rhythm that I love to use when I get myself off. But with him, it’s so much better. I gasp as the orgasm hits and my body tenses. I scrabble at the sides of the tub and hold on as I ride out the wave of pleasure.

  “That’s it, little bird. Let it all out,” Jordan says against my ear, and I have no choice but to do what he says.

  My body turns into a puddle as I come down, and he holds me close. After a few moments pass, I feel a warm cloth wash over me, and then he’s rinsing me off and telling me to stand up.

  “It’s over?” I pout, not wanting to leave the bath.

  “I don’t want you drowning because you pass out in here,” he says, helping me out and wrapping me in a warm, fluffy towel.

  He takes a second to dry me off before taking a towel for himself and doing the same. When he’s finished, he wraps it around his waist, and I see his cock is just as hard as it was before we got in the tub. It’s then I realize he never got off.

  “I’m sorry, I got distracted,” I say, trying to explain.

  He smiles and shakes his head. “You’re so selfish. Always so greedy to get off.” I blush at his teasing, but he takes me into the bedroom and pulls back the covers on the bed. “You need to eat. Why don’t you rest for a little while and I’ll order us some food? You haven’t eaten since the bar last night.”

  Exhaustion hits me as I climb into the bed naked and snuggle in. These orgasms seem to make me sleepy. The sheets smell like Jordan, and I instantly feel safe and secure. There’s no other bed in the world I’d rather be in.

  He says something else, but I don’t catch it. By the time my head has burrowed into the pillow, I’m already asleep.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Jay

  When I wake up, I roll over and reach for Jordan. The place I expect him to be is cool, and I open my eyes to find him. Sitting up, I see he’s nowhere in the master bedroom, so I go to the bathroom to see if he’s in there. I take a few steps, and I hear the shower running. I feel like being naughty.

  I’m already naked, having gone straight to bed last night after taking a second bath with Jordan. I think I could live in that tub with him. I must have needed the sleep, because at one point I remember Jordan waking me up to eat dinner. I told him I wasn’t hungry after the massive lunch he’d fed me. Then at some point later, I felt his warm arms around me as I drifted even deeper under. God, I must have slept twelve hours.

  When I sneak into the bathroom, I see the steam coming from the shower, but the glass is clear. I can see Jordan under the spray with his eyes closed, the rivers of water washing down his back and over his firm ass. I lick my lips thinking about wanting to bite him there, and then his hips turn.

  I gasp when I see his hand on his cock, stroking up and down in long pulls. His hand is soaped up and he’s fisting himself harder than I would have imagined he liked.

  “Jay,” he moans, and I look up to lock eyes with him. “Fuck.” He grunts and scans my naked body, up and down.

  I take a step forward, and he slams his hand against the glass.

  “No. Don’t come in. Just stand right there,” he says, pain in his voice.

  I reach up and put my hand against his, the glass separating us as he goes back to stroking his cock. He’s on edge, I can see that. His body is tense and tight. If I were to step in that shower with him, he might lose control. And as much as I want him to do that, I know that Jordan is a good guy. He wouldn’t want me to do something in the heat of the moment that I would regret. But what he doesn’t know is that there isn’t anything I’d ever regret when it comes to him.

  “Touch yourself,” he says, his voice deep and filled with need.

  I slip my free hand between my legs and through my wet folds. I moan at the sensation, loving the feeling but wishing it was him.

  “Faster.” His voice is demanding as he runs his tight fist up and down his length, the round head of his cock almost red with need.

  I do as he commands and circle my clit. I speed up to his rhythm, and suddenly we’re both moving at the same speed. I’ve never been this bold in my life, and I realize that I don’t feel any embarrassment. I’m not shy or ashamed. Instead, I’m a goddess pleasuring myself in front of my man so that he can enjoy it as much as I enjoy watching him. It’s powerful, and I want to use it to my advantage.

  Taking my other hand away from the glass, I use it to pinch my nipples and rub my breasts. I lean back on the counter of the sink and spread my legs so that he can see everything he wants. His grunts and moans are ringing approvals of how much he loves watching me. He moves both hands to his cock, rubbing his balls and his shaft, all while staring at me.

  “I can’t last much longer,” he says, and there is a pleading note in his voice.

 
“Come with me.” I pinch my nipple and rub my clit in just the right spot to send myself over the edge.

  The pulses in my pussy are intense, but the sight of him coming undone sends a throb through me unlike anything I’ve ever felt.

  A thick stream of cum shoots out of his cock and rolls down his shaft. His deep sound of pleasure sends a chill down my spine, and God, how I wish I could feel it on me. Inside me.

  “Fuck,” I whisper and close my eyes. The vision and the desire are too intense, and it sends me into another orgasm.

  I hear the shower door open, and then I feel a warm, wet hand pull me. I let out a squeak as I’m pulled under the spray, and then his lips are on mine.

  “How could something so simple be so fucking hot?” he groans against my lips.

  “I don’t know. But next time you better let me in.” I feel his hard length against my belly, and I reach down and rub him. “Want to try a do-over?”

  “Hands to yourself, little bird.” He kisses me softly and then spins me around so I have to let him go. “Shower up and then we’re headed out.”

  “Where are we going?” I ask as he smacks my ass and steps out of the shower.

  “Well, since you slept through dinner, food first. Then you get to come watch me spar with my team. Then we’re going to my dad’s.”

  He’s got a towel around his waist now, and I make a point to look down at it and then back up to him.

  He smiles and shakes his head as he leaves the bathroom. I make quick work of getting ready, seeing he already put all my stuff in here. When I hop out, I towel off and then quickly blow-dry my hair. Once I’m finished I walk into the bedroom to find him already dressed.

  He’s wearing a T-shirt with loose track pants and sneakers. He looks comfortable as he slips on a track jacket and zips it up.

  “You know, the more you look at me like that, the more I think you’re after me for my body.” He winks at me and grabs his gym bag.

  “You’ve discovered my secret,” I say, dropping my towel dramatically and walking naked to the closet.

  He’s on me in point-three seconds, wrapping his arms around me and kissing my neck.

  “You’re the greatest temptation I’ve ever faced,” he says, burying his face in my hair.

  “Why didn’t you wake me up last night?” I wondered that as soon as I woke up. Why hadn’t he tried to make love to me? Even with the shower this morning, it’s like he’s trying to keep himself at a distance. “Are you afraid of getting serious?”

  That’s the real question, what’s driving the fear that sprouts in my stomach when I’m unsure of what he’s after. Am I always going to be kept at arm’s length?

  He leans back and shakes his head. He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear and sighs. “No. I’m already serious with you, Jay. I’ve never been more serious. I just want to make sure...” He trails off and then shakes his head. “I want it to be special. As lame as that sounds. I don’t want you half asleep or rushed for time. I want our first time to mean something.”

  “Are you blushing?” I ask, and I can’t keep the giggle out of my voice.

  He goes to pull away from me, but I cling to him. I’m sure he could break the hold if he wanted to, but he lets me have it.

  “Jordan, that’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me. I’m just surprised. I had assumed you were pretty experienced with this sort of thing.”

  “That’s pretty sexist to assume men can’t be virgins.” He leans down, giving me a kiss and then rubs his nose against mine. “Maybe you’re not the only one who’s been waiting for the right one.”

  With that, he gives me one last kiss and walks out of the closet. I stand there for a moment, dazed. Holy shit. Jordan is a virgin? And he’s been waiting for the one? Am I the one? Now I have so many more questions rolling through my mind.

  After a moment of standing completely still, Jordan pokes his head back in the closet. “Hurry it up, little bird. I’ve got breakfast cooking.”

  Going over to my side of the closet, I grab a pair of yoga pants and a tank top, with a zip-up hoodie and sneakers. I pile my hair up in a messy bun and then grab my bag off the dresser. I see my phone is lit up, and I scan the texts. I’ve got seven from my sister asking where my incense burner is, and then her telling me that she found something that would work. God help her, I hope she doesn’t burn the whole building down.

  I see that I have two more text messages from an anonymous number, and I click on them to open. At first, I think maybe they’re not for me, but I read them again and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

  Anon: Keep your fucking mouth shut.

  Anon: Be careful little bitch

  “If you don’t get your pretty ass in here, I’m coming back there to get it,” Jordan shouts from the kitchen.

  There’s no name, and I’ve never gotten a message like this before, so I delete them. They could have been meant for anyone. As soon as they’re deleted I feel better and reply to my sister about fire codes in the building. She’s a total flake.

  I toss my phone in my bag and hurry to the kitchen. My stomach is growling, and I’m ready to see my man again. I push all thoughts about my phone aside and think about Jordan’s admission. Somehow it makes me hotter and I want him even more.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Jordan

  “Are we allowed to just bring chicks in here now?” McCoy says when I’ve got him in a choke hold.

  “You know, that’s probably why you’re still single. You’re afraid of pussy,” Paige says from the side of the ring.

  Ryan stands beside her protectively, but there’s no need. She could take any one of us down, and we know it.

  “I think she might be right,” Jay says, and Paige high-fives her.

  McCoy grunts, and I flip him over so he doesn’t turn blue. He takes the opening, and we go back to wrestling.

  We’ve been here for a couple of hours, and it’s been fun having Jay watch me. She even got in the ring for a few minutes with Paige so she could learn some basic self-defense moves. I was impressed. She’s a fast learner, and stronger than I realized. I didn’t like the thought of all the guys watching her with Paige, but they were really helpful with instructing.

  It wasn’t until I got in the ring with McCoy that the shit-talking started. He thinks it will throw me off my game, but he didn’t take into consideration that my woman can hold her own.

  “You know, Paige, I’ve always wondered if it’s easier to wrestle without balls. I guess I should have asked McCoy first.”

  I almost choke at Jay’s trash talk, and then I hear everyone around the ring erupt into laughter. McCoy stands up straight and looks at Jay, pleading, with his hands out.

  “Jay, what the fuck? What did I ever do to you?”

  I take the opening and dive on him, pinning him down until I hear Sheppard hit the bell. I get up, still laughing, and help McCoy off the mat.

  “Your girl plays dirty,” he tells me, shaking his head.

  “Poor guy. Did you get your feelings hurt?” I joke, poking him in the chest.

  “All right, that’s enough for today,” Ryan says, and everyone starts packing up.

  I climb out of the ring and go over to where Jay is and grab my gym bag.

  “You headed to your dad’s?” Sheppard asks.

  “Yep. Taking my lady with me,” I say, grabbing Jay’s hand.

  McCoy walks over and nudges Sheppard out of the way. “Just wanted you to know, even though you’re evil and you cheat.” He looks at me and smiles. “You’ve given all guys in the friend zone hope. And you cost me some coin.”

  “Thanks, I guess,” Jay says leaning into me. “But the truth is, he put himself there. Not me.”

  “Wait. So are you admitting you cheated?” McCoy says, trying to spin this back in his favor.

 
“Sorry, buddy. You lost,” I say, feeling smug.

  “Never bet against Jordan. You know that,” Paige says as Ryan carries her over his shoulder out of the building.

  I don’t even want to know what him carrying her is about, and we all ignore it. It’s practically normal behavior for the two of them.

  “Fine. We’re out. See you tomorrow,” Sheppard says as he and McCoy leave.

  Since I’m the last one out, I lock up and then hold Jay’s hand as we walk to the train.

  “Nervous?” I ask, feeling her pulse on her wrist.

  “Nope. Just excited,” she replies as she tucks her phone back in her bag.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Jay

  We take the train to Brooklyn, and Jordan leads me to a cute neighborhood with family homes on tree-lined streets. He tells me about growing up here as we walk, and I can picture it. Kids are still running the sidewalks and riding bikes.

  “This is me,” he says, pointing to a little brick house with a front porch and purple flowers lining the beds.

  “It’s adorable!” I exclaim, and I mean it. It’s charming and sweet, and it feels like a part of him. So, of course, I’m going to love it.

  Love him.

  The words play over in my head as he takes my hand and leads me inside.

  “Pop, we’re here!” he shouts in way of greeting.

  We walk down a short hallway, and he stops to kiss his fingers, touching them to a picture hanging on the wall. It’s of a beautiful dark-haired woman, who I know instantly is Jordan’s mom. Beautiful high cheekbones, straight nose and a small dimple.

  “You look just like her,” I say, wrapping my arms around his waist.

  “Wait until you see my dad.” He kisses the top of my head, and we walk through the kitchen and out onto a back patio.

  “Pop!” Jordan yells as we step out.

  All at once the mood changes from happy to panicked. Jordan’s father is slumped over in his seat with blood on his head. We both rush to him, and all hell breaks loose.

 

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