by Molly Mirren
She crawled under the covers and pulled them to her shoulders. “That's better. I love your deodorant. Your armpits always smell nice.”
Jay smiled and put his arm around her, snuggling her close as she laid her head on his shoulder. “You're weird.”
“Yep,” she said matter-of-factly. “And you love it.”
He kissed the top of her head to let her know she was right and got a tantalizing breath of her apple-scented hair.
She traced his nipple with her fingertips, and a current ran through him. Jay had never paid much attention to his nipples, but lately, with Erin, he'd discovered they were much more sensitive than he'd ever realized and could be a source of incredible sensation.
With other women, he'd been so focused on proving to himself and to them that he could still give a woman pleasure, he'd ignored his own needs. He couldn't feel anything where it counted, so he'd thought it was futile to try.
He'd been wrong. The parts of his body where he still had feeling were extra sensitive, like his nerves had rerouted themselves to make up for the places where he couldn't feel. He'd read about this when he'd first been injured, but he'd thought it was all bullshit.
Erin said with a smile, “I think you're taking this full disclosure thing a little too far.” She grazed her fingers around his nipple and then along his chest muscles.
It felt so good he had to make an effort to concentrate on what she was saying. “Nope. I made you a promise. I will always be straight with you, no matter what. I'll never lie to you or keep anything from you ever again.”
She trailed her fingertips between his pecs, then down to his ribs. Jay closed his eyes, letting the exquisiteness of it wash over him.
“Well,” she said, “I guess I should appreciate the red alert.”
“Yep. And there's nothing like a good backdoor breeze to set the ambiance. Do I know romance or what?”
She snickered and kissed his jaw. “Oh, yeah. You're a regular Nicholas Sparks.”
He grinned. They were so comfortable with one another. There were no secrets between them anymore, and they could completely be themselves. Jay had never been as close to anyone as he was to Erin, not even his ex-wife. He felt like he could tell Erin anything, and he hoped she felt the same.
She rose up to straddle him, the covers slipping down to her waist and exposing the pale softness of her skin and the round globes of her breasts. She leaned forward to kiss his lips. “I love you, Jay,” she said against his mouth.
He burrowed his fingers in her hair and caressed her cheekbones with his thumbs, kissing her more deeply. “I love you, too,” he said. He'd never said anything he meant more, and his heart felt too full, like it might explode.
She began to kiss him again, light, open-mouthed nips accompanied by a little swirl of her tongue that was sheer ecstasy over his tingling, hypersensitive skin. She started with his mouth, then his chin, then down his throat to his collarbone, then over his chest and stopping at his nipple. She traced her tongue around the brown circle surrounding the peak, and then the peak itself. His nipples were so hard now they could chisel stone.
Jay gave an unsteady laugh. “You're stealing my thunder, darlin'. I'm supposed to be doing that to you.”
“Don't worry. You'll get your chance,” she said, then gently bit his nipple.
“Jesus!” The sweet prick of pain made him wild with desire, and he had the sudden, fierce need to pull her to him, to feel all of her against him, skin to skin. His palms pressed into her back, desperate to meld her to him, but he tried to control himself enough not to hurt her.
Her hands were on his shoulders, her forearms framing his chest, and her breasts rubbed against his ribs and the part of his stomach where he could feel. She responded to the pressure of his hands and began to rub her body over him, slow and seductive. “I can feel you, Jay. Your cock is pressing against my lower abdomen. It feels so good, lets my body know what’s about to come.” She licked the other side of his chest, making her way to his other nipple. “The anticipation is driving me crazy,” she said against his skin. “It's making me so hot for you.”
He loved it when she described the things he couldn't feel. It was more than just dirty talk. It was essential and enhanced the sexual experience for him. He closed his eyes and wished to God he could feel her belly rubbing against his cock, but just the thought of it, knowing it was happening, filled him with need and excitement.
Yes, the sensations were in his head and other places that weren't his dick, but if he let himself get into it and really think about what he and Erin were doing, it was still something special and wonderful. She had made it her mission in life to discover how to make him feel pleasure. She'd researched it—both by reading about it and by hands-on experimenting (Jay's personal favorite)—and preached to him all the time that the brain was the biggest sex organ in the body.
His dick, he had to throw out there, was a close second.
Again, Erin's teeth bit his nipple, and he couldn't take it anymore. “Come here,” he growled, and she obeyed, writhing up until her face hovered over his, her long hair tickling his overly stimulated nipples before her breasts came down against his chest. Her lips found his neck, just under his jawline, and then she kissed her way to his earlobe and began to suck on it.
“What am I doing to you, Jay?” she whispered, darting her tongue into his ear. It was on that list of erogenous zones where the pleasure was magnified more than it might have been before his injury.
He was panting now, his heart beating a thousand beats a minute. If he'd been able, he would have arched off the bed. As it was, he clenched his fists into the sheet underneath him, trying not to spontaneously combust.
“Tell me what I'm doing to you,” she said between suckles of his earlobe and tonguing his ear.
He'd intended for it to be her turn, to take her breast in his mouth and give her pleasure as good as he'd gotten, but she'd distracted him with the ear thing, and his brain was rapidly disintegrating. She liked to get inside his head, knew that sex for him was as psychological as it was physical, and making him give commentary was another way she drew him in.
“Tell me, Jay,” she said. “What is my tongue doing to you?”
“It's . . . ” He closed his eyes to better focus on what he wanted to say, but she was still driving him insane tonguing his ear. At the same time, her fingertips were drifting over his eyelids, down his cheek, onto his neck, and caressing the outer shell of his other ear. She was all hands, fingers, and tongue, a wealth of sensory delights, making sure no parts of his body where he had feeling—and, knowing her, probably the parts where he didn't—were neglected.
He felt her fingers run along his arms, to the area inside his elbows, where, even there, her touch caused a kaleidoscope of light and color behind his eyelids. His upper body was greedy, soaking in and amplifying her every stroke, and what he was feeling was incredible.
It wasn't the same as how sex had been before his injury—no build-up to a climax, just a steady bombardment of bliss that was no less enjoyable because it was different. And it was all the more amazing because it was Erin—the girl he loved so much he would gladly die for—who was doing it to him.
She switched to his other ear. “You haven't answered me,” she said, her warm breath tickling him. Her smoky doll voice was sin itself. “What am I doing to you?”
He couldn't stifle a moan as her tongue thoroughly traced his ear, then plunged in deeper, as if she was trying to lick his eardrum. “You're . . . ” He swallowed hard, letting the sensation consume him. “You're fucking my ear with your tongue.”
She gave a husky chuckle. “Do you like me fucking your ear with my tongue, Jay?”
A particularly deep thrust stole his breath. “Yes,” he managed to hiss.
“Good. Because I like fucking you with my tongue.”
Christ almighty. She was going to kill him. He was sweating and panting, even though she was doing all the work. It was time he stopped neglecting her. He reache
d down to her pussy and inserted his middle finger. She was already drenched, her lips swollen and so ready for him. Not for the first time, he was amazed at how turned on by him she was, how just touching him seemed to get her off. He was the luckiest man alive to have someone who accepted him so completely.
When he began to rub his finger inside her, along her G-spot, she said, “That feels so good, but I want you inside me.”
Jay removed his finger, and she whimpered in protest. “Not so fast, darlin'. I believe I still owe you some breast action.”
She gave a raspy little laugh. “I'll take a rain check.”
He took one of her nipples between his thumb and index finger and gave it a little twist, then kneaded her breast.
“Oh, God,” she said, closing her eyes. “On second thought . . . ”
Jay smiled and, with his hands on her hips, coaxed her to move close enough that he could take her breast in his mouth. He ran his tongue along her areola and then sucked on her pebbled nipple, all the while kneading her other breast with his hand.
She groaned, and Jay loved that he could do this to her, could worship her body the way she deserved.
“I'm going to come,” she said with a hitched breath. Her arms were braced on either side of his head, and he could feel the warm moisture of her pussy sliding on his belly as she gyrated against him. She rose up and sat back for a second to look at him, her delectable little nipple popping out of his mouth as she did so.
Jay met her eyes as if to say, Go ahead, then pulled her back down, bringing her other breast to his mouth, licking and sucking on that nipple while rubbing the nub of her clit with his free hand.
She moaned an “Oh, yes” under her breath, then tensed for a few seconds, and finally shuddered. She was such a sexual being, so sensual. And, by some miracle he knew he didn't deserve, she was his.
She scooted down and rested her forehead against his, panting.
“Good?” Jay asked, arching a brow.
Erin raised her head and smiled. “It was a nice appetizer, but I'm ready for the main course. I want you inside me. Now.”
He kissed her mouth first, and then she shifted over him and eased herself down on top of his erection, taking her time, the enraptured look on her face telling him she was savoring it. “Oh, my God.” She closed her eyes, then arched her back, her fingertips on his ribcage for stability.
Jay had never seen anything more beautiful or more provocative.
“You're huge,” she said, eyes hooded, throat bared to him. “You fill me up. We fit together”—she gasped as she adjusted herself—“so perfectly.”
He couldn't feel any of it, and it was surreal, like he was watching the hottest porn he'd ever seen in his life. He had to remind himself this was real, and it was happening to him.
As if reading his mind, Erin said, “Don't zone out on me, big guy. Stay with me.” She grabbed his hand in both of hers and brought it to her mouth, then took each of his fingers, starting with the smallest, and methodically sucked on each one of them, ending with his index finger.
Oh, yeah. He loved it when she did this. It kept him in the game, and the heat of desire pumped through him again, his heartbeat picking up speed. When she touched her tongue to his palm and licked it in tiny circles, her breath coming out in steamy little puffs, his eyes rolled back into his head. His hand was one big erogenous zone, and what she was doing was mind-blowing.
She took his thumb next, licking around it and sucking on it, then pulling it in and out of her hot, wet mouth in a way that was incredibly erotic. The symbolism wasn't lost on him, especially when she started moving on top of him in a rhythm that matched the in-and-out of his thumb.
Both of her hands had slipped down to his wrist, and she let go of it to place her palms on his chest. Her eyes locked with his, and he knew she wanted him to keep his thumb in her mouth. He did, his other fingers of the same hand splayed out across her cheek. It made a picture that was wickedly carnal.
He watched her hips move up and down on his cock and, at the same time, felt her suck on his thumb. He closed his eyes and concentrated, letting his thumb act as a surrogate, letting each stroke drive into her mouth the way he wanted to drive his dick into her body.
She began to moan, her sucking became frenzied, and the way the bed squeaked told him she was fucking him faster and faster down below. Jay got caught up in it, felt his excitement grow until pinpoints of light pricked his body all over. His breathing was labored; his heart was beating out of his rib cage. Then a starburst exploded in his mind, euphoria rushing through him like a freight train.
He opened his eyes to meet Erin's, and he couldn't help the big, incredulous grin that spread across his face. He was still panting as his body came down from the high.
Had he just had an orgasm? He hadn't experienced one since he'd been injured, hadn't thought it possible, but this was . . . awful damn close. Again, it was different, not like before his injury, but still pretty fucking awesome.
Erin smiled around his thumb. He took it out of her mouth, then slid his hands down to her hips, feeling their rocking motion. She leaned into her palms, which were still on his chest, and he eased his thumb over to the nub of her clit again. “Does this help?” he asked.
“Oh, God. Oh, yes,” she gasped, her body pumping up and down on his cock.
Jay kept up with her, never letting his thumb leave her, until she came.
“Oh, God!” she yelled, closing her eyes, a hurts-so-good expression on her face. “Oh, God. Oh, yes. Yes!”
Jay watched her come down, loving the way her breasts heaved and the dewy sheen on her skin, until she was finally breathing normally again.
“You are the most beautiful woman in the world.”
She sank down on top of him, heated skin to heated skin, chest to chest, and kissed his neck before laying her head on his shoulder. “You're the hottest guy in the world.”
Jay kissed the top of her head and wrapped his arms around her. “I think I loved you the first moment I saw you.”
“Oh, please,” she said, skeptical. “We all know that's BS.” She kissed his collarbone to take the sting out of her words. “You're saying that because we just had really great sex. It's clouding your memory.”
“That's not true. I would have done anything to get to know you. Maybe, subconsciously, that's why I blackmailed you.”
“Whatever.”
He smiled. “In the interest of our honesty pact, I have another confession to make.”
“What?”
“You know how your TV was broken?”
“Yeah?”
“I probably could have fixed it. I'm good at that kind of thing, but I liked that you had to come to the living room every time you wanted to watch TV. It meant I got to be near you, so I didn't tell you.”
She was quiet for a long time, then she said, “I should confess something too.”
“What?”
She idly ran her finger along his bicep. “My TV was never really broken.”
He was stunned for a moment as the meaning of that sank in, and then he burst out laughing.
“Guess I 'subconsciously' wanted to be with you too,” she said, a smile in her voice.
He hugged her to him as his laughter faded to a grin.
She tilted her head back to look at him, her mouth curved into a coy smile. “So, you know what?”
“What?”
“I think I finally got my happy ending.”
Jay gave her a gentle, languorous kiss. “Nah, darlin'. This is just the beginning.”
So, what did you think? Reviews are an author’s lifeblood, so please consider leaving a review at Goodreads or your favorite book retailer.
If you would like to leave the author a personal message, she can be reached at [email protected].
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thank you to H. This book is better for your input and encouragement. Actually, it probably wouldn’t have been published without you. Thank you fo
r reading it so many times!
Thanks to my mom, who didn’t disown me after she read it. Sorry for all the profanity, Mom. My next book will be family friendly. I promise.
Thanks to my editor, Christi Stanforth. You know I think you’re a genius.
Thank you to Robin Harper at Wicked by Design for creating my cover.
Lastly, I owe a big apology to all the indie authors (and even some traditionally published authors) whom I’ve scorned for not having perfect copy. I tried to weed out all the mistakes in this book, but now I understand. It’s easier said than done.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Molly Mirren loves being a writer. She also loves good company, good food (too much, if you ask her bathroom scale), good wine, and good music. When not writing, she is doing laundry. She is also a firm believer in the Oxford comma and defends it fiercely. Long live the Oxford!