by Reese Ryan
He took his keys out and pressed them in her palm. “You drive.”
* * *
If Jamie’s kiss had been aggressive, her driving was even more so.
She finally broke the silence they’d been driving in for the past fifteen minutes. “Am I making you nervous?”
He was about to answer when suddenly he felt like he was in the space shuttle taking off. He looked at the speedometer. They were already fifteen miles above the speed limit and she was pressing the accelerator even harder.
“You’re quite the little speed demon, aren’t you?” He gripped the side door handle as she overtook a car that seemed like it was moving in slow motion compared to their speed.
“I warned you that I wasn’t a driving-to-church-on-Sunday kind of girl. I’m probably a little more than you bargained for.” She smirked, her eyes still on the road. “But of course, it’s your car. If you can’t handle it, I’ll understand.”
He took a deep breath, watching her. She was testing him. Was this a little reckless? Hell yeah. But he needed to show her he was prepared for whatever she threw his way. She was driving fast, but safely and she’d handled the car well. Well enough for him to wonder if she’d done any professional race car driving.
“Maybe this makes me crazy, but I can take anything you’ve got, as long as you don’t try to kill us.” He thought he’d better add that, just to be clear. “At least I’ll have a hell of a time trying.”
Chapter Eleven
They were barely inside Miles’s condo before Jamie straddled him on the nice new couch he was pointing out to her. She ground her hips against him. He knew she could feel his cock against the inside of her thigh.
He’d been in a near state of arousal all afternoon, courtesy of the tiny jean skirt and body-hugging women’s Browns football jersey she was wearing. It was all he could do not to slide his hand underneath her skirt on the ride there. But now, with her pawing at him like a hungry lioness and giving him the best damn lap dance of his life, he was in danger of completely losing control.
He’d always imagined Jamie to be a wildcat in the sack, but right now she was being pretty aggressive. A woman who knew exactly what she wanted and who wasn’t afraid to please a man was alluring, but this was more than the heat of passion. She had a driving need to be in control, to make this completely about the sex. A few weeks ago he’d have been all for that, but his feelings had changed.
“Jamie.” He broke their kiss and grabbed her arms, pinning them at her sides. His eyes scanned hers. “Is everything okay?”
Eyes wide, she sank her teeth into her lower lip then dropped her gaze. When her eyes met his again her brows were furrowed. Breathing still ragged, her chest hitched as she choked out a response. “I’m fine. This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”
“Of course I want to be with you, but not just physically. I really like you.” He pressed his lips into a slow smile. “I’ve looked forward to this a long time, so if you don’t mind, I’d like to drive this time.”
Cheeks flushed, she averted her eyes from his and climbed off of him, sinking into the couch. She straightened her skirt. “Fine. Whatever.”
He kissed her softly then leaned his forehead against hers and whispered, “It’ll be worth it. I promise.”
Her concession was barely audible. “Okay.”
“Why don’t I show you around? We can take our time and see where things go from there.”
Jamie raked her fingers through her dark hair. A tiny smirk edged up the corner of her full mouth. “So show me around, then.”
Miles smiled. That was the Jamie he knew. The woman who made him a little crazy. The woman he was falling for, despite the fact that on the surface, the two of them seemed like a disaster waiting to happen. So what if their relationship bucked the odds? He wanted her, every part of her, and he was willing to bet his heart that deep down, she felt the same.
When he’d purchased the condo, he’d considered the extra space—complete with a game room, media room and two guest rooms—a necessity. But as he showed the place to Jamie, who lived in a tiny third-floor apartment, it felt lavish.
“The upstairs is pretty much the same but with bedrooms,” he said as they left his home office. It was a large space, complete with a desk, work station and seating area. A wall of windows let in loads of light. “So how about we watch a movie?”
“Are you kidding me? I wanna see the rest of this joint. I’ve never been in a place this nice before. What, is only the preview free?” She crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow.
“After you’ve seen a few of these rooms, they start to look pretty much the same.” He ran his hand over his head and shrugged, his gaze landing somewhere over her right shoulder.
“You don’t have to act modest. I know you’ve got a lot more than me. This is exactly the kind of thing I was worried about. If we’re going to act all weird about shit like this, it’s proves that this doesn’t work. That we don’t work. Maybe it’s better if we’re honest about that right now.” She plopped down on the second stair from the bottom, her arms still folded.
He expelled the air from his lungs, his palm pressed to his forehead, and sat beside her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want—”
“To flaunt what you have in front of the poor barmaid?”
He bit his lip and shifted his gaze from hers.
She leaned into him. “If we’re going to do this, you have to promise me we’ll always be honest with each other, even when it’ll hurt the other person.”
“I can do that.” He slipped his hand in hers and threaded their fingers. “So, if we’re being honest with each other, what was that kiss in the parking lot about?”
She diverted her gaze from his but didn’t answer.
“Hey, you set the rules here. Whatever it is, it’s okay. Just tell me.”
“I don’t know.” She raked her fingers through her hair, her eyes not meeting his. “When that lady said we looked so in love...it freaked me out a little. I’ve never... I mean, I haven’t—”
“You’ve never been in love?” Miles wanted to retract the question the moment her face fell. “I mean, I know you’ve been in other relationships. You weren’t in love, not even once?”
She fiddled with the hem of her skirt, her gaze in her lap. “That was the deal going in. It was just fun, no strings attached. No one gets hurt.”
He ran a hand through his hair. So that was what that kiss was about. Her need to pull back and make it strictly physical. They sat together for a moment in silence.
“I don’t do relationships because it’s hard and people get hurt,” she said finally. Her eyes met his. “If that’s what you’re looking for, I’ll only let you down. So if you’d rather walk away now, I’ll understand.”
“There’s something about you I just can’t shake. And believe me, I’ve tried.” He laughed.
“Apparently you’re not trying hard enough.” A mischievous grin turned up the edges of her pouty lips.
“I guess not.” He traced her mouth with his fingertips, wondering what it would feel like to have those soft lips against other parts of his anatomy. “Or maybe I don’t want anyone else.”
Miles crushed his mouth to hers. His hands pressed into her back, slowly lowering to her round bottom and squeezing. He’d had an overwhelming desire to do that since the first night he’d laid eyes on her. He squeezed the flesh so hard as he pulled her against him that he worried he might leave a bruise. If she’d been unsure how much he wanted her, the swell of his erection against her had to erase any doubt.
He kissed her harder, deeper. She tasted sweet, like the Bananas Foster pie they’d eaten earlier. And he wanted more of her. His tongue gently parted her lips and slid against hers. He moaned softly as his cock strained against the fabric of his khakis. Jamie yanked his shirt out of his pants and glided her hands up his back, her nails grazing his skin—a sensation that rode the edge between pleasure and pain.
He tore his mouth from hers and
trailed kisses along her jawline and down the creamy skin of her long, elegant neck. She was beautiful, never more than right now. He wanted to see every glorious inch of her skin. And he didn’t think he could wait another minute.
“How about that tour of the bedroom now?” he mumbled between kisses.
“I can’t think of a better time for it.” She trailed her fingernails down his back as she pulled them from underneath his shirt.
Grabbing her hand, he led her up the stairs to his bedroom. They tumbled onto the bed, and he kissed her, his hand gliding down her body to the exposed skin of her legs, until his hand was underneath her skirt.
She squirmed as he gently stroked the dampened space between her thighs. His cock strained in anticipation. Everything about her was sensual. The softness of her skin, her intoxicating scent, the warmth of her body. He was drowning, completely lost in her.
Miles peeled the jersey over her head, revealing a black, lacy bra with an elaborate pink design. Lowering his gaze, he studied the tattoo on her stomach—a tribal drawing of the sun radiating out from her belly button. An intricate floral design graced her left shoulder. The vibrant pink flowers were a brilliant contrast to a luminous blue, green and purple hummingbird with its wings spread. On the top of her right arm the name “Gordon” was drawn in beautiful script, which looked, at first glance, like another tribal design.
Miles planted warm kisses along the skin just below the band of her bra before changing direction. Leaving a trail of slow, tender kisses in his wake, he edged his way down her belly. The rise and fall of it quickened as he made his descent. He’d been determined to take it slow with her, to make her want him with the same fierce intensity with which he desired her. But he needed to be inside her. He gently stroked her through the increasingly wet fabric. She squirmed with approval, her legs falling open. Kissing his way back up her body, he pressed his mouth against the curves exposed by her bra, gently nipping at the skin. He slipped his hands behind her and unfastened it.
His mouth went slack. They were even better than he’d imagined, and that was pretty damn hard to accomplish. The tight pink peaks stood at attention, begging him to have a taste. He ran his tongue over her taut nipple, enjoying how she squirmed beneath him.
These babies are definitely real. Every single inch of them.
He hiked her skirt, rather than unzipping it. There was something so fucking hot about having sex with a woman wearing a skirt and boots, even if they were army boots.
Sliding off the matching lacy black thong, he tossed it on the floor. Now he surveyed her sex, open to him like the petals of a flower at midday. Sleek, pink, glistening.
His tongue darted out and wet his lower lip as he plunged one finger, then another, inside of her. Unable to take his eyes off the juncture where his fingers, slick with her desire, slid in and out of her, he pressed his thumb against her hardened clit, forming a tight circle. She writhed against his hand, her legs trembling. She was close. He licked his lips then curved his fingers inside her, stroking her inside and out.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck, ohhhh fuck!” she moaned, her walls clenching around his fingers.
His mouth tightened in a wicked grin as he slowly removed his fingers, shiny with her approval of the first act. God, she was sexy. And he wasn’t even close to being done with her.
Miles kissed her hard then climbed to his feet. He stripped his clothing off, enjoying the glint in her eyes as she took in every inch of him. Her mouth stretched in a self-satisfied smile as her eyes wandered over his cock.
He pulled a condom from his bedside table. Jamie took it from his hand, tearing the wrapper open. She gestured for him to come closer. He complied, his dick twitching as she took him in her hand and slowly rolled the condom down. She crept higher on the bed, and he followed.
Miles gathered her in his arms and they tumbled back on the bed. He crushed his mouth to hers, devouring it with hot, hungry kisses. Gripping his shaft—stretched tight and aching with his need for her—his eyes locked with hers. Body trembling, he shifted his hips forward, slowly entering her. Her soft gasp and the sensation of being surrounded by her wet heat sent his pulse racing. A low rumble vibrated in his chest and his muscles tensed. Her body opened to him, allowing him to penetrate deeper.
She whimpered and gripped the bedding, her eyes wild. Something in her gaze stoked the fire low in his belly, need spiraling through every inch of his body. A shiver ran the length of his spine. He swallowed hard then licked his lips. His biceps bulged as he supported his weight above her and stroked slowly, methodically, bringing her closer.
She felt so fucking good. The erotic dreams he’d succumbed to—imagining what it would feel like to finally be inside her—paled in comparison to the reality. He could get used to having Jamie Charles in his bed. Ravaging her voluptuous body. The woman was as addictive as cocaine and probably twice as dangerous. Still, he couldn’t resist her and had no desire to.
Her walls tightened around his shaft. An intense wave of pleasure snaked its way up through his body, bringing him close to the edge. Her eyes lit up and the corner of her mouth curled. Her fingers digging into his back, she pulled him in deeper. She enjoyed the control she had over him. But he wasn’t done yet. Not until he’d completely satisfied her, until she was begging him to stop. He sucked in a deep breath and focused, despite his trembling limbs and the thumping of his heartbeat.
Without breaking the rhythm of his thrust, he reached his fingers down between them and found the slick bud. She shivered, sputtering something unintelligible as he accelerated the speed and pressure of his stroke.
Now they were both grunting, muttering and exclaiming expletives with the sweetest pleasure. Her entire body shuddered and her walls spasmed, clenching around him. She grabbed his hand, an unspoken plea for mercy. He could finally let go. A few more strokes was all it took. He came hard, with an intensity that rocked his entire body.
Miles collapsed on the bed next to her, kissing the side of her face, their bodies beaded with sweat. It was official. He was addicted to this girl, and he had no plans of letting her go.
* * *
Jamie sat on the edge of the huge marble soaking tub in Miles’s bathroom in her panties and a Rolling Stones T-shirt he’d loaned her. She’d retreated to the bathroom after their last time together. She needed some space, a moment to clear her head.
Being with Miles was like nothing she’d experienced. He instinctively knew what turned her on, what she wanted him to do and where. He was a fantastic, thoughtful lover. But as great as the sex was, great sex wasn’t, in itself, a foreign concept. She’d had plenty of sex. And as for the quality of it—if it didn’t take your breath away and leave every inch of your body begging for more, what was the point?
What had taken her by surprise that last time was that it had felt like more than just sex.
A shiver ran down her spine. She drew her other foot onto the side of the tub and wrapped her arms around her legs. When she closed her eyes she could feel his mouth on hers. His hands on her face. Him deep inside her.
He’d gently stroked the side of her face, insisting she open her eyes. When she did, his gaze was intense, like he was peering into the depths of her soul, some place even she didn’t dare to look. It unnerved her.
When he’d kissed her, something deep inside her seemed to melt. She’d let go in a way that she promised herself she never would. Sex had always been about having fun, and sometimes about exerting her power over the men who’d wanted her so badly they could taste it. But in that moment, and in the moments that had come after it, the connection they’d made took her breath away in a completely different way. It wasn’t just hot sex.
They’d made love.
Jamie took a deep breath and squeezed her eyes shut. Part of her wanted to hold on to that moment and replay it in her mind, letting the sensation of his touch, his breath on her skin, completely fill her. But the darker part of her heart that understood the realities of sex and her rocky rel
ationship with men chided her for giving in to the feeling, for not keeping up her guard.
She wanted to pick up the phone and call Mel. To tell her that she’d truly been with someone for the first time. Yet she couldn’t.
Mel and Mimi had shared stories about their first times. Mel’s was in college. Mimi’s was in high school. She’d listened and giggled with them, but she wouldn’t talk about her first time. For her, there were no sweet memories of delicate kisses and fluttering eyelashes. It was over before she’d even known what was happening to her. She’d lost her virginity when she was just twelve.
The muscles in her body tensed as she remembered that night long ago. The night she’d awakened to the weight of a grown man on her and searing pain between her legs. She could still smell the cheap whiskey on his breath and the taste of his hand over her mouth.
“Just be still and don’t say a word. This is what you wanted, so don’t try to pretend you don’t,” he’d whispered, his moist lips pressed into her ear.
Jamie’s heart thumped against her chest and tears stung her eyes.
He’d been right, in a way. Not about her wanting him to sneak into her room and do what he’d done to her. But she’d had a huge crush on him. He was the first of her mother’s boyfriends who had been genuinely nice to her. He’d spent time with her, bought her things, taken her to the circus, just like her father had. She’d loved the attention, even craved it. The way he’d casually drape his arm over her shoulder or hold her hand. The way he’d stroked her hair and told her she was beautiful.
She tried to calm herself, but her hands and legs wouldn’t stop shaking. Deep down she knew it hadn’t been her fault, what Leo had done to her. Still, she couldn’t help feeling like she’d been asking for it. Maybe even wanting it.