Lex the Ex left her for another woman, so it’s a tender topic for my friend. I’m trying not to be a complete jerk and put my feelings before hers. But if I’m being honest? After the night we had and the day we had, I’m pissed she’s thinking of that asshole runner at all.
My big plan when I woke this morning was to let this play out. Give her a safe space to do whatever she wants with me. I sure as hell didn’t want her changing her mind after the sex on the stairs. Sex notwithstanding, the day we spent together was fantastic. Easy. Comfortable. Fun. Basically like every other day I’ve spent with Jackie, only now touching her was encouraged.
At the moment, however, I’m feeling the way she did last night: like I’ll be rejected altogether.
I’m going to play through with confidence.
“We’re at the scene of the refusal,” I say. Her eyes snap to mine, then float over my shoulder toward J.T.’s window. Still he has her attention. That stings. My voice louder than before, I continue. “Next lesson. Overcoming rejection with the following date. Some guys don’t get it, Butler. You have to pull yourself up by the proverbial bootstraps and try, try again in this messy world of coupledom.”
“Whatever you say, Coach.”
My plan is working in that she’s not suspicious of my intentions. We can play this out in my role as coach and her role as coachee. “Let’s practice this the way it should go. Invite me in.”
“Just…what, ask you if you want to come in?”
“Put some effort into it.” I cross my arms like I might tell her no. There’s no way in hell I’ll tell her no.
“Did the girls you dated always invite you in, Vince?” A spark of worry highlights her eyes.
“No. More importantly, I didn’t always want to come in. Sometimes I left.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
She chews on her bottom lip in thought.
“Butler.” I decide to put her out of her misery and pitch her a softball. “What are your plans for this evening?”
She tips her head, her soft brown hair framing her face and her eventual smile. Watching it spread her lips could turn into one of my favorite hobbies. Jackie happy is a specific kind of drug. One I’m not immune to.
“I’m planning on going inside and slipping into something a lot less comfortable.”
“Damn,” I mutter. “You don’t need to be coached. You need to be kissed.”
I grasp her jaw and tip those inviting lips to mine, kissing her and relieving the desire thrumming in my bloodstream. She pushes up on her toes and the last glimpse I have of her is her eyes closing as mine do the same. She ends the kiss by dropping to her heels.
“Would you like to come in?” she purrs up at me.
“Hell, yeah.” I follow her to the door, eager. Even though I don’t intend to, I peer over my shoulder at the building across the street, hoping J.T. saw every second of that kiss—and me walking through her door.
“How am I doing?” Jackie whispers as I close her front door behind me and flip the deadbolt. “Do you have any pointers now that I’ve successfully lured a man into my house?”
“Yes, but every one of them involves you stripping naked while I watch, which is probably less about my coaching and more about my boner.”
She tosses her head back and laughs. I grin. I was hoping to elicit that response. “I never knew you were so…adorable.”
I’m not adorable. Puppies are adorable. But if that makes Jackie feel better about letting me in, I’ll allow it.
“Give me sixty seconds and then walk down the hall.” She trails her fingers along my T-shirt before she leaves me alone in her living room, my heart pounding to beat all.
Sixty seconds. Leslie would have asked for twenty minutes. Whatever Jackie has planned, I’m in. I count, inserting “Mississippi” between the numbers but then getting impatient and using “Ohio” instead. Somewhere around forty-two, I head down the hall toward the closed door at the end of it.
I rap lightly. “I’m early.”
“Good,” comes her slightly muffled response.
I open the door to find Jackie, arms overhead, wiggling around in a red lace…something. Sort of looks like a tangle of bungee cords.
She peeks through the material, which is looped over her nose and mouth. Her brown eyes are wide. “Help?”
I’m not going to laugh, because she’s in a fragile state. Her simple cotton panties are turning me on, despite her upper half being strangled by lace and Lycra.
I take the sides of the material in hand and spot her bra discarded on the floor, so what I’m about to uncover are those perfect breasts. I lift the garment, covering her face and trapping her arms overhead. I intended to free her from her siren wear, honest, but instead get towed in by two perfect nipples and the fact that she’s rendered helpless. Wrapping my arms around her back, I lower my lips to one breast and tease her with my tongue. I hear the moan, feel her relax against me. I move to the other breast, swirling circles and suckling, and Jackie’s next moan is louder.
Hell.
Yes.
I tug the lingerie from her arms and toss it aside. My girl has a major case of bedhead and hunger in her eyes. I’m not making either of us wait.
“Lesson number whatever-we’re-on,” I say, my voice tight with lust. “Lingerie is sexy, but you naked is sexier.” Fingers along the edge of her panties, I slip my hand inside and lower my mouth to her breast again. I’m slipping through her wet folds a second later, loving the way her hands rake through my hair—backward and up, sending chills down my arms and legs.
This woman.
“Vince.”
“I love when you say my name,” I growl, kissing her firmly as I wheel her onto the bed in the corner.
“Is that a good go-to, Coach?” she asks.
The question pulls me out of the moment, and for a split second I can’t tell if she’s sincerely asking for guidance or if we’re now both aware that there’s a game. It’s a safe one, though, and it’s fucking fun, so I play along.
“Always, Butler. Always say the guy’s name. Especially when you come.”
“Do you prefer Carson? Or Vince?”
“I prefer ‘Don’t ever stop, Vince’ as well as ‘I’ve never seen anything so massive in my life.’ ” That earns me another rich laugh. I kiss it off her lips before sliding my tongue along her throat to her collarbone. She’s arching beneath me and clawing at my shirt. I let her tear it off me and throw it aside, but I don’t let her inhibit my descent. I’m headed full speed ahead for the Promised Land.
Fists on either side of her panties, I roll them down partway and sense a moment of hesitation when I lay a kiss below her belly button. Her eyes hint at a question I’m not sure she’ll ask. Going down on her is a deeper commitment than sex. My mouth on her most private and sensitive parts. Her trusting me to bring her to orgasm with only my tongue and undying devotion to her pleasure.
She knows. I know. And that palpable moment hangs in the balance.
What she doesn’t know is that this is about more than getting her off so I can get off immediately following—though here’s hoping it works out that way. For me this is about unwinding the coil in Jackie’s spine and letting her liquefy beneath my tongue and hands. Tasting her unique flavor and bingeing on it until she vibrates beneath me.
The moment when she surrenders.
That’s what I want more than anything.
“You’re sure?” Her question is a breathy whisper. It cuts me to see her uncertain because I know this isn’t stemming from her. This worry was gifted to her by another guy who did her wrong. Maybe Lex, maybe someone else. Or maybe no guy has ever revered her in a way that she deserves. Time for that to change.
“Honey, I’m dying to taste every inch of you.”
Her smile is humbling and, without waiting for a response, I trail my tongue along the edge of her panties before sliding the material to one side and stealing a lick. She reacts like paper touched by
a lit match. She gasps, her hips jutting greedily toward my lips. I’m going to need more room to maneuver. I prop myself on my elbows, roll her underwear down her legs, and throw them over my shoulder. She stiffens, her thighs closing slightly, but I can tell what she wants. I can feel what she wants.
And I know how to give it to her.
Nestled between her thighs, I open her to me and tenderly swipe my tongue along her folds. The writhing starts immediately—this isn’t going to take long at all. Unless she’s into multiples, in which case I’m settling in and counting. Like I noticed before in our shared shower, she’s trimmed but not shaved bare. I lave her, roughly then softly. Rough rewards me with a pinched moan, her fingers in my hair, so rough it is. Shortly thereafter, her breaths shorten into heated pants. I swirl the tip of my tongue and locate her clit. I know I’ve found it because the second I roll over her, she emits a sharp yip of approval.
“Next lesson,” I say, taking the briefest break from my work. “Don’t you dare hold back.”
I dive in, knowing I’ve got her balanced on the edge. Her legs open, her heels hit my shoulders, and the sounds she’s making now are starting to qualify as shouts. I grind my erection into the bedding as I reach up and give her nipples a tweak. I go for firm and fast, and a second later she’s throwing her arms wide and tearing the sheets from the bed. I mentally pat myself on the back as her orgasm comes in waves that shake her legs, and then her entire body. I take her in—her scent, her shouts—gently guiding my tongue along her until her hands come up to push my face way.
“Vince, please. I can’t. No more.”
Another shudder takes her and I decide not to stop. To prove to her she can take one more—and this one will be better than the last. Hands wrapped tightly around her thighs, I renew my efforts, and soon enough she’s learning that there are more—two more—one riding a wave in followed by another. Her pleas are borderline incoherent and her grip on my hair is weak.
Just what I was going for.
Carefully climbing up her body, I trail my mouth from her hip to her ribs. Unable to bypass her nipple without saying hello, I place a reverent kiss on the tip. Next is her mouth, and when I get there, she’s winding down from her intense release.
“Don’t move.”
“Don’t worry.” She grins, her eyelids opening lazily to take me in. “I don’t think I can.”
I ease off the bed, strip off my jeans—leaving them inside out because I’m impatient—and return to her in an instant. I maneuver my hips between her legs, propping myself on my elbows, my eyes on hers. One tilt and I’m sliding deep. No barrier, no fuss.
We glide.
Wet and warm and smooth. No hurry on her end, but her eyebrows pinch as another climax sneaks up on her. She’s going to sleep well tonight, and I’ll sleep well knowing her mind is freed from worry and wonder because I took her to the peak of pleasure.
We move together and then she’s bearing down, clutching me from within to give my cock the best hug on the planet. A few more deep pounds and I’m the one who’s about to black out with no worry or wonder. I kiss her, deep and frantic as I continue moving. Her legs wrap around my ass and draw me closer and when she clutches again—I’m gone.
A guttural, primal sound exits my throat as I bury my face in her neck and come hard. She’s there with me, her mewls of pleasure saturating the air and cloaking me.
Seconds pass. Or maybe minutes. I’m not sure.
Finally I raise my head to kiss her tenderly. Jackie either can’t or won’t open her eyes.
“Mmm.”
“I concur,” I say.
“You’re a good teacher.”
“You’re a good student.”
We smile at each other like idiots and then I’m facing what I’ve been ignoring the entire day—what I’ve been shutting out since this morning.
I’m going to have to go home.
Chapter 17
Jacqueline
Monday rolls around on the heels of an awkward Sunday. Awkward because when I woke to the sun pressing against my closed blinds, I did so alone. I was naked under the sheets and there was a note taped over my alarm clock. The numbers glowed blue against the paper, so I had to peel it off to read it.
No lessons today, Butler.
Take the day off and bask.
—V
In the kitchen I found a box of cereal next to a bowl and spoon. Vince’s way of making me breakfast¸ I’m guessing. It was sweet. And confusing.
I walked into work this morning with my head held high, proud of myself for not seeking him out. Not a single needy text.
We have a Monday afternoon meeting each week (Vince calls it a “jam session” to be funny because it’s easily the most boring and useless waste of time), so I’ll see him then.
I’ve been busy digging through a mountain of emails and sorting spreadsheets in hopes of making sense of the numbers before the meeting this afternoon. I turn in my chair to stretch when a flash of movement outside my window catches my eye.
J.T. jogs by, no shirt, hair waving in the wind, and when he’s passing my window he turns his head and smiles. When he includes a wave, I know that smile is meant for me. He can’t see in—reflective glass and all that—so my returned wave isn’t witnessed by anyone.
Or so I think.
“Afternoon.”
I turn to find Vince at my door. He leans on the jamb, eyes on the window, then on me. He’s chewing gum and his expression is one of mild disdain.
“Hey! Hi!” I chirp too brightly. Then I remember that he’s the one who walked out after the explosive sex on Saturday and remind myself I have nothing to feel guilty about. At the time I didn’t feel jilted, but not hearing from him on Sunday was strange.
“What’s up?” I ask coolly.
“He still on your to-do list?” Vince asks even more coolly. I don’t even pretend not to know what he’s talking about.
“J.T. and I have a bit of a ‘hanging chad’ issue”—which is my way of saying unfinished business—“but it’s only a matter of letting him know I’m done.”
Vince nods once—a simple tip of the chin.
“Do you have tips for how I should handle it?” I’m hoping he suggests I don’t talk to J.T. at all, or recommends I send a text stating we’re through.
After a pregnant pause Vince’s frowning mouth opens for one word. “No.”
“Hey, guys. I—oh. Am I…interrupting something?” Kayla is holding a Post-it note and wearing a look of caution. I understand why—even I can feel the tension in the room.
“Jackie and I were going over a few final notes before the meeting,” Vince says, not taking his eyes off me.
“I…see.” Kayla’s eyes flash around the room before landing on me. It’s obvious Vince and I were not discussing the meeting. “This can wait.” She waves the Post-it note and leaves.
“Well, that’s no good.” I round to the front of my desk and watch out the doorway as Kayla heads for her office, stopping to peer over her shoulder at me. I wave. She waves. “Do you think she knows?”
Vince’s fingers wrap around my arm and he pulls me back into my office and smoothly shuts the door. “What’s going on, Jackie?”
Him using my first name is almost foreign in this environment.
“With what?”
“With Jaundice.”
I jerk my arm out of Vince’s grip. “Gimme a break. Nothing’s going on. And anyway, how can you act jealous when you were the one who sneaked out of my house on Saturday night?”
“I didn’t sneak.” A pair of angry eyebrows crash together. “You didn’t hear me leave because you sleep like the dead and snore like a pair of chain saws.”
Offended, I drop my mouth open. “I do not.”
His smile finally emerges. I didn’t realize how relieved I’d be to see it. I sigh. Angry Vince is reserved for when we talk about Leslie. Vince being angry with me is…Well, it’s unacceptable, is what it is.
“You do,” he
says. “It’s cute.”
I roll my eyes, which is probably why I don’t see him coming. Before I know it, his lips are on mine, his fingers in my hair, his other hand gripping my hip and holding on. I kiss him back. How could I not?
“Next lesson,” he says when we part to catch my breath. “Don’t kiss Jaundice unless you want him to know your secrets. You can fake a lot of things, Butler, but your kiss is incapable of dishonesty.”
Is Vince bluffing? Could he feel how badly I wanted that kiss—or how much I want him to do it again? That’d be disastrous.
“Got it?” he prompts.
“Got it.” My voice is little more than a tight croak of agreement. I back up as Vince grips the doorknob and lets himself out. “Great idea, Vince!” I call out for our coworkers’ benefits.
A few people scowl at my awkward interruption of their workdays.
Vince only chuckles.
Chapter 18
Vince
Lunchtime rolls around the next day and I’ve almost convinced myself that surreptitiously checking the windows for Jackie’s runner isn’t the most pathetic reaction ever. On another pass by Kayla’s office—because Jackie’s office would be too obvious—Kayla calls out to me.
“He’s not running today.” Kayla smiles, takes her fingers from the keyboard, and puts them in her lap. Waiting. For me to confess, most likely.
I hesitate outside her office, cellphone in hand. I glance down at the game I was mindlessly playing before giving up and shoving my phone into my pocket. Kayla’s no dummy. She had to suspect something was up yesterday because you could’ve sliced the tension in Jackie’s office with a dull knife.
In front of Kayla’s desk, I cross my arms and look down at her. “What do you know?”
“They have lunch today. Jackie left five minutes ago.” Kayla is smiling. “Why don’t you ask her out, Vince? She might surprise you and say yes.”
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