by Lana Sky
Most of all…I hated myself for giving in to him.
“She ditched me when I was five. Left me with my good-for-nothing, alcoholic father.” I spoke to the wall above my head rather than him. It listened with nothing more than a flickering nod of shadow.
Go on.
“My father sobered up and tried his best to raise me, but we were poor…we needed money. So he took to selling meth out of our house until he got caught in a sting and was sent to prison when I was nine. I went to live with my rich grandmother who had never wanted anything to do with me or my delinquent mother. Any more questions?”
I was panting with the force of it—those damn memories I spent every day of my life trying to forget. I wasn’t that little girl anymore.
But the funny thing was…
With Jason heavy against me, and his breath against my chilled flesh, it felt better to get the words out. To purge it all from my system.
It felt….
“Your turn.”
Suddenly, my hands were free. He sat back and hooked a hand beneath my waist, pulling me upright and leveling the playing field. My fingers clutched at his shoulders, and I pushed, desperate to regain control and shift the focus to something I could understand.
Like taking his clothes off.
Jason fell back without resistance. His back hit the surface of the chaise, dark hair fanning out around his head like a twisted halo. I don’t think that I fully appreciated the size of his body until right then, when I struggled to brace both knees on either side of him and still regain my balance.
He was a mountain of muscle and strength, molding against my body so perfectly that it made my head swim.
“My turn,” I echoed, hardly recognizing the sound of my own voice. I reached down, snagging the bottom of his shirt and wrenched it up. His arms rose to assist me, and I greedily took in the sight of him bared beneath me.
Damn, he was perfect. A thin pelt of dark hair covered his chest, creating a trail all the way down to the waistband of his jeans. I felt my throat go dry, and all of a sudden, I wasn’t quite ready to reveal all of him just yet.
I settled for resting my hips against his instead, just out of reach of the naughty zone. His eyes flicked up and down my body, narrowing with appreciation. Something that could have been a groan teased the air.
Desperate to savor the shift in power, I leaned down, sliding my lips along his body on a mindless quest for his mouth.
Up this close, I could see the subtle cracks in his stoic exterior—the way a muscle in his jaw jumped as I traced the edge of his chin with my tongue. The memory of our session in the copy room spurred me forward until I settled my mouth firmly against his, desperate to use my fleeting grip on the reins to my advantage.
Our lips met. Collided. Devoured.
Any previous kiss had been playtime.
This was war.
Every bit the skilled opponent, Jason used his tongue like a weapon, easily turning the tables on my own little game. I wanted to be angry. Wanted to bite back harder, but then his teeth caught my lower lip and tugged, and for the briefest of moments, I forgot that this wasn’t about control.
His hands went to my waist, holding me steady as his hips rocked just once, teasing me with the heavy fullness hidden behind the partially open fly of his jeans, causing an answering shudder to ripple through me.
I felt hot. Baking. Burning.
And only one thing could put out the fire.
Jason’s mouth broke from mine as I reached down between us and slid my fingers along the length of his zipper. Ouch. I winced in sympathy once my fingers registered the massive amount of him straining through the tiny opening.
That had to hurt.
Luckily for him, I could be merciful when I wanted to be.
With nothing but good intentions in mind, I seized the zipper and pulled. Jason Daniels sprung free, and I was greedy to experience every single inch…
“Not so fast.”
The flames searing my body sputtered and died as Jason shifted, turning the tables once again. I hissed in frustration as he sat up. Easily, he caught me by the waist, lifted me, and perched me on the edge of the coffee table.
Before I could move, he sat forward, bookending my body between his knees.
“Another question, darlin’.”
His hands caught my wrists, holding them apart and creating an open space between our bodies that seemed as wide and deep as an abyss.
“One more.” I countered, reluctant as to just what it might be this time. “Then we stop beating about the damn—”
“One more,” Jason promised, meeting my gaze. I tensed, expecting more probing crap about my past. Instead, the question he posed was surprisingly simple. “What do you want?”
I laughed. “Isn’t it obvious?”
I wanted the same thing he so apparently wanted. The anticipation of sex crackled in the air between us. I could almost taste my own need over the tip of my tongue, and despite myself, I shifted closer to him.
God, I knew what I wanted all right.
“Not that,” Jason said softly. “What do you want from me?” The change in subject was as bracing as a bucket of ice water dumped over my head.
My gaze darted pointedly down between us, to the pants hanging off his waist. “Do I really have to spell it out—”
“After tonight,” he said gruffly. “After…this.” He gestured between us.
I cocked my head, unsure of just where he was heading. “Nothing. I don’t want a damn thing from you.”
He nodded. “Okay then.”
A hand curled against my spine, yanking me forward into a wall of solid muscle. I grunted as the fabric of my bra was snagged from behind, then gasped as the material gave way altogether.
Okay then.
Chapter 11
I held my breath as Jason’s fingers slipped beneath the silky material of my bra and cradled my breasts with the same detail that he infused into his music.
“Perfect,” he murmured against my earlobe while his thumb struck a throbbing peak as though it were a string on his guitar.
My lungs heaved for air, and I released it all on one needy word. “Please…”
What the hell is he doing to me?
I didn’t recognize myself.
This wasn’t me….
Abby Newman didn’t beg for sex. She didn’t plead to be touched. She didn’t get so wound up that one touch might have been enough to send her over the edge.
Thankfully, this time, he didn’t tease.
With a nudge of his shoulder, I found myself lying on my back while Jason settled over me in a graceful shift of muscle. He braced himself on his knees and wasted no time before palming my hips in both hands.
One fierce yank and my panties were gone. Seconds later, my bra was being wrenched away, and then there was nothing shielding me from his gaze. Burning, those indigo eyes swept over my body, savoring every single inch. When they finally reached my face, he groaned.
“Beautiful…”
My mind reeled at the genuine awe in his voice.
I was used to less eloquent compliments, such as “oh, you have real tits” or “nice ass.” It stung to realize that no one else had ever called me beautiful. Once again, Jason was breaking the mold and catching me off guard.
Well, no more.
“Just get it over with,” I snapped, reaching for the waistband of his jeans.
Surprisingly, he allowed me to yank the material down his legs unhindered. I went for his boxers next, curling my fingers around the hem before he could change his mind. He stiffened, watching me peel the fabric away to reveal where a thicket of dark curls ended and he began. Intoxicated by the realization, I took my sweet time, observing every inch of the man who’d taunted me to the breaking point.
Swollen veins surrounded the thick column of flesh, pulsing with barely restrained lust. I could count his heartbeats just by looking at him, and I couldn’t keep myself from brushing a finger along th
e rigid base just to feel him for myself.
Silk.
Steel.
He hissed between his teeth, eyes darkening into indigo. “Abigail…”
I pulled my hand away, mentally sizing him up in comparison to my previous conquests.
I wasn’t inclined to toss around words like “perfect.”
Maybe it was just the lighting? Or the fact that I had never been so turned-on—to the point where I couldn’t even breathe without feeling his touch and just the sight of him took my breath away?
Whatever the reason, I arched off the cushions and spread my legs as far as I could. Limited by space, I was forced to hook one foot over the back of the couch and dangle the other over the floor. My reward was a guttural moan from the man in front of me.
“Damn.” His eyes were brighter than the moonlight spilling in through the bay windows. Without wasting any more time, he slid one hand beneath my waist, fingers fanning out along my spine.
I shivered at the contact. The possession in his grip resonated all the way down to my toes and, for once, I wanted to be possessed.
Only by him.
“God, Jason.” I lifted my hips higher, trembling with impatience. “Please—”
Without a word of warning, he shoved, and I found myself pushed over the armrest of the couch, suspended only by my lower body.
A squeal tore from my throat. I sucked in air, grappling for leverage, only to feel my entire body go limp as something wet deviously teased the rim of my navel.
God.
For a second, I could only lie there suspended, trusting him to support my weight. His fingers bit into the flesh of my thigh while the moist assault traveled up…down…around. I could guess the source of the heart-stopping sensation without even having to look. And with every sinful inch that his tongue traveled, my body spiraled further and further out of control.
He swiped along my inner thigh, finally settling over the place where I ached for him the most. Heated breath basted my clit, alighting every single nerve.
I tensed with anticipation—but the bastard wouldn’t satisfy me so easily. He hesitated inches from my core, audibly inhaling my scent, right along with my sanity.
Desperate for any part of him I could reach, I lashed out. Like an animal, I seized his forearm, digging my nails deep into the muscle in a silent command. More.
Grunting, he lunged to comply, and my entire body convulsed over the tip of his tongue.
“Jason!”
His strength was the only thing keeping me from pitching backwards as he took his time, tasting me in teasing swipes from the top of my folds all the way down…
Like some wanton whore, I writhed, chasing every sinful bit of contact. Every thrust of his tongue.
Devoured.
Consumed.
I needed him in so many places at once that I couldn’t think coherently. I was starving, aching for him.
Here.
There.
More.
More.
More.
And it was never enough.
All at once, he pulled back, flipped me over and I could feel the hard length of another part of him replace the heat of his tongue. I only had a second to get used to the new position before he pushed in—hard.
The air left my lungs on a gasp as my body was stretched to its limits. My nails dug into the underside of the armrest, bracing myself as the weight of his body jarred me forward.
God, he felt…
A wave of sensations washed over me—too many to pick just one.
Massive.
Incredible.
Raw.
Before I could catch my breath, he set the pace, withdrawing and gliding back in. Again. And again. My body struggled to accept him. Every movement sparked an overwhelming friction that churned my insides and left me breathless.
I was lost in the primal act. The feel of him so close. The scent of sex in the air, mingling with the sounds of skin on skin.
This wasn’t like any other hasty tryst from my past. There was no rolling my eyes at the ceiling and faking my way through it. No clumsy groping and forced foreplay.
Jason played my body like a puppeteer, turning my own senses against me. My nostrils flared with his scent. His taste lingered on my tongue. My thoughts became scattered by the words he groaned into the side of my neck.
Perfect.
Fuck.
Abigail.
His voice broke over my name, and every thrust after became an impatient grapple for release. The hands on my hips pulled at an insatiable rhythm that I had trouble matching, until I gave up all together and surrendered.
My orgasm built like flash fire—just a few flickers before igniting into an inferno.
I could only cry out as my body convulsed and shattered. I could feel Jason stiffen. Abruptly, he pulled back with a muttered curse, leaving me painfully empty, but my body was already tumbling into ecstasy.
Months of celibacy ratcheted up my response to every sensation—every bite of his teeth on my shoulder and nail sinking into my flesh—until it knocked me over…
And right off the couch.
“You all right?”
The husky tenor dragged me back from the void. My mind had turned to mush, leaving little room to process anything other than the warmth of the fingers that grazed my cheek.
I couldn’t feel the ice-cold floor.
Not the pain that radiated over the left side of my face from where it had struck the marble.
Only his thumb sliding beneath my chin to lift my head.
“Abigail.” I blinked and glanced up into a pair of electric blue eyes, dominated by swollen pupils. “You okay?”
“Fine…”
I didn’t sound fine. My voice was a hoarse croak, and I couldn’t seem to find the strength to move.
To be fair, the catatonia probably had something to do with the breathtaking sight of the man above me.
Jason’s body was still slung lengthwise over the couch. The muscles of his forearm popped in stark relief as one of his hands bit into the armrest for support, while the other took hold of my shoulder and hauled me upright onto the cushions.
Utterly boneless, I shifted into him without giving a damn that the contact might have crossed our “just sex” boundaries. I had nothing on my mind but desire for his heat as I rested my chin on his shoulder, but he pulled away.
Dazed, I glanced up, the expression on his face making my stomach sink.
“What’s wrong?”
A bunch of juvenile fears marched through my mind…
You weren’t good enough.
I think I’m gay now; thanks for clearing that up.
Can you leave before my girlfriend shows up?
“I didn’t…” His words came in a rush. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t wearing a condom.”
The admission shattered the euphoric haze like a fucking punch. For a second, I could only sit there, watching our hazy reflection on the polished floor.
“Don’t worry,” he added. “I took care of it before…I didn’t do anything stupid.”
His voice was rough with meaning, and I followed his gaze to the floor where his dark tee shirt was crumbled a few feet away.
“Oh.”
That explained his withdrawal at the last minute. Even in the heat of the moment, he had managed to do the gentlemanly thing. Go figure. Regardless, I almost felt jealous of the wrinkled bit of cotton for stealing his last moments of pleasure away from me.
But a wrapper-less fuck up was the least of our worries, considering the minor fact that he had confessed to once being a chronic drug user…
“I’m clean, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he said, watching me closely. “I’ll call my physician tomorrow and have my medical records faxed to your office—”
“I’ll do the same,” I blurted, dumbstruck by my own stupidity.
Even as a teenager, I had never been so careless. In a world where everyone slept with everyone else, a lack
of sexual responsibility was just asking for trouble. Typically, I didn’t so much as mention sex unless the guy already had on a condom.
“And if…if anything happens, you can come to me,” Jason insisted, breaking my train of thought. “We’ll talk about it. I won’t let you—”
“Stop.” I rolled my eyes up at the ceiling, bewildered by the fact that he seemed more concerned for me than for himself. “God, stop acting like you’re the only man in the world to get carried away.” Though, in all honesty, I had never gotten myself into such a stupid situation either. I prided myself on being smarter than that—but neither was I completely naive. “I know how to handle a little oopsie—”
“Don’t fucking talk like that.”
Abruptly, he pulled away, leaving me to grapple for balance. Icy air replaced his heat, and the glow of moonlight silhouetted his bare body as he stood and snatched his jeans from the floor.
“Wait!”
I scrambled from the chaise, struggling to remember which nerves controlled which muscles in my body. My legs felt like jelly, and I barely managed to catch myself against his back before I could collapse. He was so damn solid. I couldn’t resist the desire to mold myself against his bare back before he could push me away.
“I’m on the pill,” I blurted, reaching down to tug the jeans from his grip. After a few tries, he reluctantly allowed me to. “And…” I swallowed hard, my stomach twisting into knots as I uttered the three most dangerous words in the world…
“I trust you.”
It was easy to blame the foreign emotion on a casual bit of mind-blowing sex. Looking up at him—skin glistening with sweat and eyes glowing—I couldn’t deny it. I would have never been so careless with anyone else.
Maybe it was a conquest thing?
Now that I had finally gotten the good boy to take his pants off, I could only hope that we both regained our common sense…
Jason held my gaze for so long that I swayed on my feet by the time he finally reached up and trailed his fingers along my cheek.
“Okay.”
“Okay,” I echoed, unsure at that moment why I hadn’t just let him storm off. It would have made my exit a hell of a lot easier. Already I could feel the tingly buzz from my orgasm dying down.