I like that at my mercy part. She should’ve never said those words. Now my imagination is going absolutely wild, thinking of all the things I could do to Jade while she’s at my mercy.
More like I’m at her mercy, considering she’s drawn the line in the sand for tonight. Look, look, touch, touch, but don’t touch me there, kiss, kiss…that’s it.
Fucking misery.
“I’m respecting your wishes.” I sit on the edge of the couch with her straddling me and lean back slowly, enjoying the way she leans in with me. Her knees are on either side of my hips, her hands still on my shoulders, my cock nestled between her legs. An ideal position that’s going nowhere. “We’re just going to kiss. Nothing more.”
“Right.” She sounds hesitant. Almost…disappointed? “Nothing more.”
I reach for her, settling my mouth on hers, kissing her before she has a chance to think, to say something else, to remind herself that maybe she doesn’t want to be here after all. I trace the seam of her lips with my tongue and she opens easily, a moan sounding low in her throat when I circle her tongue with mine. I cup her nape, holding her still, not wanting to let her go and she starts doing this circling of the hips thing that I know is going to drive me absolutely crazy.
This entire night is driving me crazy. Jade makes me lose my fucking mind. Is it because she’s so resistant yet…not? That she only lets me take it so far before she withdraws or we’re interrupted? I don’t know what to think. The theory behind wanting something you can’t have plays heavily on my mind. I think that’s my problem. I think once I finally have her, I’ll be done. Able to walk away without a backward glance.
What scares me worse is that might not be the case at all. That I’ll finally fuck her and only end up wanting more. Want her all the time. She makes me feel completely out of control with just a few kisses and innocent touches. What will happen when we finally get naked together?
Fuck I almost don’t want to find out.
My thoughts are running rampant, coming up with all sorts of solutions to this—problem Shep and I are currently facing. I can’t do anything with him tonight. Well, I suppose I could, but ew. I don’t want to. My first time with Shep is not going to be when it’s my time of the month. That’s just too much, too soon.
But there are other things we could do. Things I could do to him…
That I’m even contemplating this shows just how wrapped up I am in him. Normally I wouldn’t do this sort of thing. Offer this sort of thing. The other guys I’ve been intimate with always asked for it. Almost demanded it. I did as they asked, never fully comfortable with it. One even told me my skills were lacking and that totally put me off of blowjobs pretty much forever.
It’s different with Shep though. I don’t know why. I like how he touches me. The things he says, spoken in that sexy as hell voice. He says he wants to fuck me and it’s like I melt. Just thinking about how he said it earlier, his mouth on mine now, his tongue working some sort of magic, his hand gripping the back of my neck, his other hand at my waist…I give in to my instincts and just let go.
Slowly I thrust my hips against his and I feel his erection straining beneath his basketball shorts, brushing against me, making my eyes practically roll back in my head. He’s so…big. I can tell. And so incredibly hard. He groans when I move against him and power flitters through me, making my head spin. Without thought I reach down, drifting my fingers along his length in a feather light touch and he rips his mouth from mine, staring at me with hungry eyes.
“What are you doing?”
My insecurities come rushing back, one on top of the other and I jerk my hand away from him while answering, “Touching you?” Though I phrase it more like a question. The way he’s looking at me makes me feel unsure.
His chest lifts and he exhales roughly. “We can’t do anything tonight. You already established that boundary.”
I can appreciate his respecting my boundaries. He’s more of a gentleman than I ever thought. “I won’t let you do anything to me,” I point out to him, shocked that I’m even about to say this. Here I go. “But I could do something for…you. To you.”
He stares at me, his gaze dropping to my lips, lingering there for a moment as he starts to shake his head. “No way.”
“Why not?” Now I’m offended. I reach for him again, about to wrap my fingers around him, shorts and all but he grabs hold of my wrist, stopping me.
“I don’t want you to think you—have to do this.” He drops his head against the back of the couch and closes his eyes. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”
“Doing what?” I try to wrench my wrist out of his hold but he won’t let go. Damn it, he’s strong. I’d really like to see him naked. Everything within me goes molten at the mere thought and I squirm against him, his erection brushing against my sex and making me whimper.
“God, stop moving. Please.” He drops my wrist and grips my hips, holding me still. So still that I swear I can feel his cock throbbing against me. That’s so freaking hot. “I can’t believe that I’m turning down your offer. I never turn down offers like the one you’re making.”
Ugh. And this only reminds me that he’s a complete man-whore. “So why are you turning me down?”
“Because I can’t return the favor. You won’t let me tonight. I don’t want you to think that you have to do this as some sort of obligation.” He lifts his head so our gazes meet once more. “You confuse the hell out of me.”
I frown. “You confuse me too. My feelings for you confuse me.”
His lips quirk into this adorable little smile. Ugh, he’s just too cute. And sexy. And hot. And huge. “You have feelings for me?”
Great. Last thing I should’ve ever admitted to him. “Not like that,” I say as I start to swat his chest.
He grabs hold of my wrist again. His reflexes are impressively fast. “Then like what?” he asks quietly.
I can tell that this is A Moment. A time for me to be honest. It could go either way. Disastrous or momentous.
I’m hoping for momentous.
“I like spending time with you,” I admit in a whisper. His eyebrows lift in surprise. “You make me laugh. You make me feel good. You make me…”
“I make you what?” he urges. He’s whispering too and I realize that our position, how close we are, the way we’re watching each other, it feels so intimate. Almost too intimate.
“Want things I shouldn’t want.” I reach up and touch his hair, smoothing it away from his forehead. He closes his eyes, his lips parting and I lean in, my mouth level with his, inhaling his soft exhale. “Like you.”
And then I’m the one who’s kissing him, our mouths fused, my hands busy. I slip them beneath his T-shirt, coming into first contact with his firm abdomen and holy smokes, he’s hard there. I trace the ridges of muscle, feel his skin quiver and contract beneath my touch and I push his shirt up, wanting to feel more. Wanting to feel all of him.
“Jade.” The word is gruff, as if he’s trying to stop me but I feel like no one and nothing can stop me. I slide off of him, landing on my knees on the floor and he spreads his legs to accommodate my new position. “What are you doing?”
I almost want to laugh. He looks pained. The front of his shorts are tented with what appears to be a very aggressive, very large, erect penis and I seriously cannot wait to yank his shorts off so I can see this wonder in the flesh. “What does it look like I’m doing?”
“You don’t have to—” He hisses out a breath when I slip my fingers beneath his shorts and touch the inside of his thigh. It’s muscly and covered with soft hair—very masculine and big.
Everything about him so far is masculine and big.
“I don’t have to what?” I push the leg of his shorts up and start to kiss the inside of his knee, his thigh. He smells delicious. All fresh and clean, like soap and just beneath, the scent that is unmistakably Shep.
“Do this.” He chokes the words out, his head falling back against the couch again a
nd I take my advantage. Rearing up on my knees, I reach for the waistband of his shorts and slowly start to peel it back, discovering that he’s not wearing underwear beneath those shorts.
I come face to penis within a few shocking seconds.
“Wow,” I whisper, since it’s now turned into a whisper-worthy moment. I have never before in my life thought a penis beautiful. They’re sort of funny looking. I’m definitely not into dick pics and no guy has ever sent me one, thank God. And most guys let their penises do all the thinking, which means they’re idiots.
But Shep’s is…long. Smooth. With a thick head and arcing toward his stomach in this incredibly appealing way. I lick my lips, anticipation filling my blood, making my body pound with need and I reach out, drawing my index finger down the length of him, making it twitch.
“Fuck me, Jade. You should stop.” But he doesn’t look like he wants me to stop. He’s sprawled in front of me, his arms loose at his sides and not touching me, his head still leaning back on the couch. He’s staring up at the ceiling and that sort of pisses me off because I want him to watch when I do this.
Right? I mean, I may get performance anxiety but I still want him to see. Guys like to watch. They’re visual beings. Hello, porn.
“I don’t want to stop.” I wrap my fingers around the base of his erection and hold him like that for a few long, anticipation filled seconds. Carefully I stroke him, all the way up, curling around the head, before sliding all the way back down.
The groan that escapes him does something to me. Makes my heart race, my breath shallow. I do it again, pleased when he tilts his head down so he can finally watch and the look on his face, the glow in his eyes, fills me with pleasure.
“I’m not going to last long,” he warns me. I glance up, our gazes meeting and I smile, leaning in close so I can drop a light kiss to the very tip of him. He moans and triumph fills me. “Do that again,” he demands hoarsely.
So I do. I rain kisses all over the tip of his erection, my tongue darting out to trace the flared head. He tastes clean and the slightest bit musky, velvety soft skin covering steel. Shep is cursing up a storm, like he can’t help himself and his words only encourage me to keep going.
I tug his shorts down, past his knees, until they fall at his feet and he kicks them off, spreading his legs further, allowing me in. I scoot closer, resting my left hand on his thigh, wrapping my lips around the head of his erection. He thrusts his hand into my hair, cradling the side of my face and I glance up at him, his cock still in my mouth, my body flushed and hot over what I’m doing.
This is…so unlike me. I can hardly wrap my thoughts around it.
“That. Right there. The fucking stuff of my dreams.” His voice is strained and rough, his features pulled almost into a grimace. He’s studying me intently, his fingers gripping my hair, his thigh tense beneath my palm. “Holy. Shit.”
I take it that he likes what I’m doing.
The weird thing is? I’m liking it too. I’m deriving pleasure from giving him pleasure and it’s a heady feeling. I grip the base of his erection firmly and suck him as deep as I can go, withdrawing almost all the way before I draw him back in again. His hand hasn’t left the side of my face and he’s holding my hair away like he doesn’t want to miss a thing. The farther I take this though, the more inept I’m starting to feel and I hope I don’t screw it up.
Please, please, please don’t let me mess this up.
I withdraw him from my mouth and continue to stroke him, going on instinct as I lean in and trace the veins with my tongue. A choked sound comes from him and I glance up to find his gaze glued to me, his lips parted, his chest rising and falling in time with his accelerated breaths.
“I’m close,” he whispers. “I’m warning you.”
“Tell me what you want me to do.” Oh, I’m really feeling bold now, asking for directions. But I want this to be good for him. I want him to never forget the night I gave him a blowjob. Really? I’d like to obliterate all of those other girls who’ve done exactly this from his mind. So all he can remember, all he can fantasize about is me.
Me.
His eyes flare with heat at my words and he readjusts his position, sitting up straighter. “Grip me tighter.”
I do as he asks, liking how he doesn’t hesitate. How can I know what he wants if I don’t ask for it? Not that I’d ever had the courage to ask any other guy what he wanted before but there’s something about Shep that makes me feel different. In a good way.
In an I-will-own-my-sexuality-and-make-it-mine way.
“Suck just the head of my cock into your mouth. Ah, fuck. Yeah, just like that.” I follow his request, sucking him so hard my cheeks hollow out and from his panting breaths, I can tell he really likes that. I begin to stroke him, increasing my pace, encouraged by the dirty words that fall from his lips. Who knew Shep could be such a dirty talker? I should’ve known, but it still comes as a surprise.
A very pleasant one.
My body is tense, my nipples tight beneath my bra. I’m almost painfully aroused and I wish like crazy I didn’t have this period problem happening. Though he was the one who praised anticipation that night when I was drunk and I thought he was crazy then.
Maybe he was right after all.
“Jade.” His voice is a warning, dark and low. I glance up, sucking him deeper, loving the way he’s watching me like he’s just about to attack. “I’m gonna come.”
I don’t stop. I keep going, wanting him to come. I want to see this. To—taste this. I’ve never been in the situation before where the guy is actually going to come in my mouth so I’m curious. Really curious.
And perfectly willing to let Shep be the one to come in my mouth for the first time.
He says my name again, deeper this time, his eyes sliding closed, his mouth falling open, the cords in his neck straining beneath his skin. I stare in fascination, my lips tightening around him just as I feel the first eruption of his semen on my tongue.
“Fuck,” he groans as he lifts his hips, his length going deeper inside my mouth. I don’t move, I just take it like he described in his dream, swallowing him down, shocked that I would even do this. That I’m actually…enjoying it.
But holy hell, it’s super-hot watching him lose all control, feeling him come inside my mouth, knowing that I’m the one who did that to him. For him. His entire body is tense, his expression one of agonized pleasure as he lifts his hips one last time. I finally pull away from him, letting go of his still very hard erection and I wipe at the corner of my mouth, draw my thumb and index finger along my lower lip, making sure I’m not a mess.
“Damn.” I glance up to catch Shep rest both hands over his face, his chest still moving rapidly, his mouth pursed as he blows out a harsh breath. He runs his hands up, over his eyes, into his hair and then he’s watching me, his face like a mask, his eyes full of…something I can’t quite figure out. “I should take you home.”
I nearly fall backwards at his words. Take me home? It’s not even that late. We have the entire night together since Tristan is gone. Why would he want to take me home?
I meet his gaze again, see the unfamiliar light in his eyes and realization dawns on me.
I think what I’m seeing might be regret, mixed with a major dose of guilt.
Great.
“I hate Shepard Prescott.”
Kelli rolls her eyes, sending me a look that says here we go again. “We’re back to that? Really?”
“Kelli.” I grab hold of her arm and glance around, making sure no one can hear us before I whisper, “I had his dick in my mouth. And the minute it was over, he took me home. Never to be heard from again.” It stings just saying it. Why do I keep reliving it? It’s like pure torture yet I can’t stop thinking about it. Thinking about him.
God, what a jerk. How could I be so stupid? The one time I actually want a dick in my mouth and I end up with a whole lot of dick all right. A dick who got off and then ran like a dog with his tail tucked between his
legs.
“Maybe he got busy.” She shrugs, trying to look positive. When I continue to glare at her, she gives up the pretense, her shoulders slumping. “Fine. He’s an asshole. Just like you always said. You had good reason to throw up all those walls. The minute he got what he wanted, he bailed.”
Ouch. Hearing my predicament spelled out so simply is painful. But Kelli’s right. Shep is a total dick. He got what he wanted and left me without a backward glance.
It’s been a week since I last saw Shep—an entire week. No calls, no texts, no nothing. Not even a glimpse of him on campus. It’s late April, final exams are coming, I’m working on a final project for my communications class that’s keeping me extra busy and we’re down to the wire. School will be over in May. I’ll head home pretty soon after that and won’t return until classes resume in August.
Meaning I most likely won’t see Shep again, if ever, which should thrill me right? The asshole ditched me. Just like that. As if I don’t matter.
But it hurts, damn it. I’m confused. Was I that awful? Did I do it wrong? I followed his exact instructions and he seemed to enjoy himself. I mean, my God, I made him come in freaking minutes. I let him come in my mouth and I never do that. I really got into it, but he left me in the dust. Like I don’t even exist.
If I wasn’t so pissed off, I might’ve cried over this.
We’re at the cafeteria, eating salads for lunch while I lament over my Shep problem. Again. It’s all I’ve talked about since it happened. The BJ Experience. Why I name all of my moments with Shep, I don’t know but it sort of makes it fun.
Again, it’s either laugh or cry over this mess. Take your pick.
“I hate him,” I tell Kelli. “Seriously. If he were to come up to me at this very moment I’d probably knee him in the balls and tell him to go to hell.”
Kelli’s nods sympathetically, her gaze lifting to a spot above my head. Her eyes widen and I see her visibly swallow. “Uh oh,” she murmurs.
Panic sweeps up my chest, settles in my throat. Oh my God, what if it’s Shep? Yes, I want to knee him in the balls but I also want to…throw my arms around him and ask him where it all went wrong. Damn it that makes me want to punch myself in the face for even thinking that.
Fair Game (The Rules #1) Page 18