“I’ll be quiet,” I sob, scrambling to my knees, not totally positive if I can keep my word. Jason is the only one who has ever made me scream. Or slap another human being, for that matter. And this afternoon, I had control over exactly none of those things. I’m out of control and that lack of restraint is already proving addictive.
I raise my arms up over my head, feeling wild and uninhibited. With a quirked lip, Jason whips my dress off over my head and we face each other, kneeling. Inevitably, my attention is drawn to his huge erection, where it protrudes from the opening of his shorts—I can’t exactly miss it since the thickness is bridging the distance between our bodies, the head resting on my belly, making a damp indent. Taking it in my grip makes me moan, because I can feel the ripple of anticipation that passes through him, the veins beating where they run up the sides of his hard flesh. Wanting me.
“You’re thinking of climbing me again, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” I breathe into a laugh.
He smiles in a way he’s never done in front of me. I know what brings it on. I’m indulging his need to be needed. I have no choice. It’s the most authentic impulse I’ve ever experienced. Needing this man. He takes care of our protection, then slaps his ridged stomach, causing moisture to build between my thighs. “Do it, baby.”
There’s nothing ladylike about the way I walk forward on my knees and loop my arms around his neck. I’m laboring to breathe as I pull myself up, watching his nostrils flare as I wrap my legs around his waist, putting myself on level with his mouth. His shaft flush with the wet material of my panties. “Like this, Jason?” I murmur, meeting his eyes through the sweep of my eyelashes, because apparently I’ll never get rid of this demure streak. It’s too firmly ingrained. And that’s okay. Pressed to this man, I’m nothing but the sum of my parts and he’s aware of them all. Likes me better for them.
Jason’s flesh swells against me, a shuddering breath leaving him to ghost over my mouth. “Why don’t we see how long you can stay prim and proper…” His hands mold my bottom in a rough grip, sliding me from root to tip along his smooth arousal. “While I’m riding you up and down my cock. Never a hair out of place on my Naomi, huh? You don’t know how often I thought of making a mess out of you.”
I think of the first time I saw Jason shirtless, cleaning his boat with the cigar stuck between his teeth. How our stark differences and the errant thought of opposites colliding made me weak, hot. Now I know it turned him on, too. “I don’t like messes,” says an old version of myself, chin lifting. “I like neat and polite.”
His big chest rises and falls. “That right?” I try to keep my features schooled as he reaches behind me, guiding his flesh between my thighs. “Why don’t we find out for sure?”
He uses the head of his erection to push aside the swath of nude cotton and tucks himself inside of me. One inch, two, before wrenching my hips down the rest of the way, filling me completely with a male grunt. An ocean of waves crashes in my ears, pleasure yanking on undiscovered ropes inside of me. I throw myself forward and whimper into his shoulder, not checking the impulse to bite him. Because Lord, Lord…there’s nothing like having him occupy me. That moment of creating one person from two. It’s real. And he wouldn’t want me to hold back. No, he’d be pissed about it if I did.
That thought almost curls my lips into a smile, but it disappears into an O when Jason uses his hold on my bottom to lift me, lowering me down at the same time his hips pump hard.
“Oh.” I lock my thighs tighter, rocking into the pressure. “Jason. Jason.”
“Shhh. Again?” Forehead pressed to mine, he clucks his tongue. “Could get messy.”
I start to respond, but he jerks me up and down, his shaft leaving and filling me in a brutal invasion. A strangled plea flies up my throat. All of it is too much. The intensity of the pleasure. The easy way he’s lifting me, how effortlessly he scrambles my brain. And all the while, he watches me through narrow, concentrating eyes.
“Are you sure you don’t want my mess, baby?” Jason leans back, leaving me seated on the ramp of his powerful body. His thighs widen beneath me, muscles bracing, and then he’s thrusting into me from below, the incredible strength of him bunching and rolling, his head falling back on a tight-lipped groan. “Feels like you want it pretty bad.”
I don’t know how I thought I could keep up my prissy pretense in the face of Jason Unleashed, because I can barely keep a thought in my head that doesn’t relate directly back to his penis. Every time he drives those hips up, it’s like cresting on a wave, glimpsing the shore. Relief. The show he’s unintentionally putting on for me is propelling me toward the end already. The veins in his neck stand out, his stomach flexes…and oh God. I shouldn’t have looked down at the place he enters me, my panties shoved to one side as his erection slides in and out, made wet from my body. As if sensing my eyes there, his thumb edges beneath the veil of my panties and strokes my clit.
I look up to find his tongue tucked in the corner of his mouth, eyes blazing. “You have no idea how hot you look. Tits bouncing, watching us fuck and blushing like a schoolgirl.”
His coarse speech breathes that intoxicating need to be his counterpoint back into me. With a twist. “I won’t like it any harder,” I say, barely recognizing myself as I reach down and brush my fingers over the place where our bodies join, bringing the moisture back to my mouth. Touching the tip of my tongue to the saltiness. “Yes, this is just right.”
“Naomi. Fuck,” Jason growls, surging forward and rising on his knees, bringing me along with him. I’m impaled and riddled with lust, incapable of doing anything but sucking in breaths and waiting for him to retaliate. “You little dick tease. You think you won’t like it harder?”
I shake my head. “Uh-uh.”
He snags my mouth in a savage kiss, his teeth catching my lower lip, dragging it. But I pull away on a sob when he begins bouncing me, up and down, my inner thighs sliding in the building sweat on his hips, my body welcoming him over and over. I’m seeing nothing except blurred colors, feeling nothing but the plundering of my body by Jason’s almost indecent size. I cling to his broad shoulders, my head tossed back to gasp at the ceiling as my orgasm looms shiny and potent in the atmosphere.
“Your pussy is calling you a liar, baby,” he rasps, nipping my chin with strong teeth. “Tell me the truth now. Tell me you’ve wanted this all along.”
“Yes.” He takes hold of my backside, driving up into me harder, faster, and I open my legs wider for this man, giving and taking in equal measure. “I needed you. I needed this.”
“Shhh, baby. Shhh. I know. Dammit, I know all about it.”
Even as he reminds me to be quiet, our flesh slaps together and a cry builds in my throat. Lust has me in a death grip and it’s too intense, impossible to subdue. Our gazes lock and he sees I’m losing my grip on reality—and that reality is we’re not the only people in the house. There’s a flash of tenderness amidst the fury of his need and before I know it, I’m being turned and pressed onto my stomach.
How is he still inside me? I don’t have time to question the logistics because Jason draws me forcefully onto hands and knees, gripping the headboard and thrusting into me with renewed power. “Use the pillow,” he grits out, nudging my knees wider with his own and falling forward, aligning his chest with my bowed spine and fucking me. “Jesus Christ, Naomi, you’re so goddamn tight. Tell me this beauty queen pussy only gets wet for me. Say it.”
His fingers find my clit and rub it gently even as his thrusts increase their pace, their ferocity. “Only for you,” I manage, after a shaking scream into the pillow. “I’ve never done it like this. This is just for you, too.”
Jason’s hips hitch, a shocked rumble sounding in his chest. In the matter of breathless seconds, his mouth finds my neck and ear, kissing them in turn, his body continuing its relentless drives into mine. “You’re incredible. The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen or felt, Naomi. Heard, touched or known.” The heel of h
is hand strokes over my swollen nub, moving side to side, pushing slowly until I almost black out from the mind-blowing sensation. “I never want to be inside anyone else,” he whispers in my ear, his thighs creeping up around my hips, muscles bunching. “You’re it. You’re fucking it.”
“Jason,” I gasp, my heart threatening to splinter inside my chest. The declaration drives me higher, bringing my peak into imminence and I know that’s dangerous. I know it, but I can’t stop pushing back into his pumping hips with my own, meeting him in the middle. It’s coming for both of us…that final death…
Our fingers lace together on either side of my head, holding tight. So tight. “Whose pussy is this, woman?” Jason grinds out into my ear, his bulk ramming me from behind, clacking my teeth together. “Who do you get on your hands and knees for?”
“You,” I scream into the pillow.
“Who would get on his hands and knees for you?”
“Jason,” I sob, much quieter. But it’s loud. So loud.
Finally, he lets out a tortured rendition of my name and several heated drives later, he draws me back tight with a forearm, his big body shuddering through such an intense physical release, I can’t believe I caused it. He struggles to breathe, his mouth open on my back and I do the same into the pillow until the strain eases in my muscles. His, too. I feel the tension lessen in us both, little by little, leaving nothing but blissful satiation.
Arms closed around me, strong and reassuring. I’m on my side, absorbing Jason’s heat where it’s offered from behind. Demanding to be used. My heart orders me to trust the safe feeling. I’m safe right now. Right now is the only time where I want to exist. So I bury the possibilities held by the future and let Jason’s kisses in my hair lull me to sleep.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
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I don’t dance now…
I literally just sit in this chair and try to find one other person interested in spontaneous combustion.
Jason
I’m sitting on a folding metal chair in the church basement and there’s nowhere else in the world I want to be. My sister is about to begin her tenth attempt of the day to get the waltz right, but she still can’t get that final turn down. Since I’ve been knocking off work early for over a week to attend pageant practices, I have the damn waltz memorized, even finding myself humming the notes while cleaning the boat or showering.
Naomi turns and sends me a secret smile from her position at the stereo. It’s like someone turns the volume up on my heart, the jagged pounding reaching my ears. And when she twists her hips in that way—that I’m-thinking-of-how-you-banged-me-in-the-shower-this-morning-big-daddy way—my dick thickens in my briefs. Christ, I’m addicted to this woman. Full-on addicted, no way out, no cure.
In other words, I am royally fucked. But I’m not thinking about that yet. Not until tomorrow.
Pageant day.
I swallow the panic that rises in my throat. I’ve never been one to live with blinders on, but the reward of doing so has been keeping me distracted. I’ve been one half of a couple since the day I took Naomi diving. The three of us eat breakfast in the kitchen before Birdie goes to school, I fuck the bejeezus out of Naomi as soon as the door closes behind my sister. Then I race through work to get back to her. Sometimes we lie on the couch, her head on my chest, and talk about our favorite things. Memories. Other times we watch movies. Naomi cries at the end of every single one, whether they’re action or comedy. At least she cries the rare time we make it to the end of a movie without me trying to get her panties off.
We walk along the water holding hands. She opens her arms to me in the middle of the night when I wake up in a panic, flashbacks ripping through the seams of reality around me. I can’t imagine sleeping alone anymore. Or not having her in the kitchen laughing along with Birdie and me at the end of every day.
It’s an unconventional family we’ve formed, but in a short space of time, it’s become home. I’m at home here in this place for the first time.
But Naomi is days from ending her time here. And I’m a little over a month from returning to active duty. No more stalling. It’s time to admit to myself that hope has been building inside of me. Growing and solidifying by the day. Simply put, I’ve stopped believing I have no choice but to give up Naomi. My entire being is repelled by the very thought. Send her back to another man? I’ll end up in a straightjacket in a padded room. I’ll go legally insane, no exaggeration. The thought of another man’s fingertips on her skin makes me shake with powerlessness and fear and rage. She’s mine.
She’s mine. And I’m hers, mind, body and soul.
Across the room, Naomi’s smile has disappeared, probably because my expression is feral. Possessive. If we didn’t have an audience, I would pin her to the closest wall and fill her up with my hard cock. No. No, I’d get on my knees and pleasure her until she came with her thighs wrapped around my head, just to remind her who handles her needs.
I lunge to my feet and give in to the need to pace, ducking into the hallway so my torment won’t be on full display. Even though it feels as if I wear it on my sleeve, twenty-four hours a day. Out of view from the main room, I plant my hands on the wall and breathe in and out through my nose. What the hell am I going to do here? I’d just as soon flay the skin from my body than give this woman up, but the fact remains that we’re going in opposite directions.
The service has always been a commitment to me, but it never felt like one until now. Never felt like something that could cause a major drawback in other areas of my life. It is my whole life.
No, it was my whole life.
Serving my country will never be a responsibility I shirk or take lightly. But it’s no longer the only purpose driving me. I have love to offer Naomi. So much of it. I need to protect and serve her. I need to make her happy. Her own happiness is in direct relation to mine now.
My sister is not completely healed from the loss of Natalie, either, despite the progress she’s made. When I came home, everything was temporary. Babysitting duty. I still thought of Birdie as a child. That’s no longer the case. I don’t want to miss what she does after graduation. I don’t want to come home every six months and play catch up. I want to see it all in real time. Never in a million years would I have thought myself capable of mending her pain, but I think I might be. Naomi made me believe in that hidden part of myself.
I’ve already committed to another tour of duty, though, and I won’t back out. That kind of wishy-washy behavior isn’t in me. Once I make a promise, I keep it. Always. Am I out of my mind to think Naomi would wait for me? When she’s returning to a whole heap of money and comfort in Charleston…and potentially the arms of a man whose feet could not be more firmly rooted on US soil. A fucking mayor. Do I have a hope in hell?
Yes.
I close my eyes and let that single word roll through me. This relationship between Naomi and me isn’t make believe. I know her flaws and strengths. What makes her laugh and cry. She’s the first thing I think about in the morning, last one at night. I’m so in love with her, the feeling would keep me warm in a blizzard. Would melt the fucking snow before it hit the ground. The way she gives herself over to me when we’re making love isn’t a mistake. I catch her looking at me sometimes like I’m already gone. There’s something there. I’m not alone.
In my line of work, risks are par for the course. I’ve never taken one that would have this much reward. Or potential to fucking maim me.
With a steadying breath, I push off the wall and walk back into the room, just as Birdie messes up the final turn. Again. My chest constricts when I see the frustration on her face. I wish there was something I could do to take it away. Her partner looks irritable as all hell, spearing his fingers through his hair. He holds his tongue, however, when he sees I’m back in the room. I’ve been enjoying having that effect on him.
“Hey,” Naomi says, approaching from the left. Cool comfort set
tles around my neck, balancing the hunger that snakes into my belly. God, what this woman makes me feel. I look down to find her searching my face with anxious blue eyes. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah.” My blinders have allowed me to keep thoughts of her leaving at bay, but they rush in now and topple my sanity, turning me desperate. I cup the back of her neck in my hand, sliding it up to bury it in her hair, which she always wears down now, loose around her glowing face and slightly sunburned nose. Damn, she’s so beautiful. My throat closes up and I have no choice but to lean down and kiss her, letting her sweetness soothe my singed edges. Not gone yet. She’s not gone yet. “Baby,” I mutter between kisses. “Baby.”
“Jason,” she says back, warming to the kiss, going up on her toes and opening her mouth for me. I have the presence of mind to turn my back, so we’re not making out with an audience, but Naomi absorbs all of my focus after that. I’ve seen how cruel this world can be, but taking her away would be another level of cruelty. Her taste is so familiar to me already, but the more used to it I get, the more of it I need. My pulse is hammering in my temples as I tug her chin down, getting my tongue in deep. Memorizing her. And yeah, seducing her, because I want her to fucking rip my clothes off when we’re alone.
“God, you taste perfect,” I groan quietly, breaking the kiss. “I know where you taste just as delicious, though, don’t I?”
Pink paints her cheeks. “You have to stop. I c-can’t conduct pageant practice with these things staring back at everybody.”
She waves a hand around to indicate her hard nipples. Laughter cracks out of me, not just because of her predicament, but because I love that she’s comfortable saying these things to me now. A month ago, she would have denied the existence of her nipples if I’d asked. “Think of something that turns you off.”
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