JAKE

by Juliette Jones

  We lay there like that for a few seconds, just staring deep into each other’s eyes and it’s the most connective experience I’ve ever had. Like our souls are melting into each other’s, merging and entwining.

  “Why are you doing all this for me, Jake?”

  “Because. At the risk of sounding like a total psycho I’m just going to be completely honest with you. I know we barely know each other but I’ll tell you this much: everything I do know about you so far is blowing my goddamn mind. Since that first second I saw you.” He pauses and twirls his finger through a curl of my hair. “Your face. Your hair. Your apple pie, holy hell. Your eyes. The color, so clear with their little starbursts of different-colored blues. The tiny freckles on your nose. Your pink lips. The way you looked pissed off because I kept you waiting that first time I met you, because I wanted to watch you and hold your attention just a little longer.”

  Jake’s a romantic, like I used to be. I can’t help smiling. “I wasn’t that pissed off.” I was too busy enjoying the view.

  “The sound of your voice,” Jake continues. “That determined look in your eyes when you’re at work, like you’re busy conquering the world. And don’t even get me started on your body.”

  I blush a little when he says this. Even here, lying in this darkened room with him, half-naked and feeling less daunted than I ever have in my life, I’m still aware of my own inexperience.

  “Yours isn’t so bad, either,” I whisper, touching my fingers to his chest. This time, he barely flinches. Everything about him fascinates me. My eyes rove down his stomach, to the straining swell in his jeans. Oh. To the straining swell that’s bursting out of his jeans. In the darkness I can just see that he’s so big and so hard he’s escaped the confines of his waistband. I can see the outline of his hardness, jutting out. There’s a glimmer there, too, like something about him is wet and somehow ready.

  He’s so close to me. All that is so close to me. So big and so hard. Glistening with his lust. I go instantly, shamelessly wet. I can feel a warm, sweet throb soften my most intimate places. My nipples bead against the thin, soft fabric of my dress.

  “Will you stay?” His eyes are darkly hopeful. His full, perfect mouth is close to mine.

  “I’ll stay with you,” I say. “On one condition.”

  “What condition?”

  I don’t know how to say what I want to say.

  “I’ll never hurt you,” he says again, like he’s not sure I believe him, misreading my hesitations. “I promise you that.”

  “I know, Jake. I know you won’t.”

  I lean closer, until my mouth is almost touching his. The scent of him is drugging.

  “Can I confess something else to you, Sugar?”

  “Anything.”

  “I’ve never kissed anyone.”

  I pull back to look at his face more carefully. “I thought you said you had a sordid past.”

  “Yeah. The kind of sordid that doesn’t involve kissing.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s part of my … issues, I guess. I never wanted to get that close to anyone, in that way. It felt too intimate.”

  It seems strange, that this big, hot, prime piece of masculinity would be as inexperienced in this regard as I am. Or even moreso. I’d had two sort-of boyfriends after high school, but I’d been too busy working to have much time for them and they – or I – lost interest before things got overly physical. “I can understand why you wouldn’t want to.”

  “You can?”

  “Yeah. I can.” I lay back onto the pillow. “It’s okay.” I try to mask my disappointment. But it’s for the best. Neither of us should be getting carried away. I’m still recovering. He’s still dealing with his past.

  “I wanted to tell you that,” he says, leaning closer, until his muscled arm grazes my skin. I’m acutely aware of his body. God, his body.

  He doesn’t move, and neither do I, but my whole body’s throbbing now, for him. I’ve become molten and liquid, hot beyond belief.

  “And I wanted to tell you that everything’s different with you.” His voice is a low, rasped purr.

  I can’t help it. My fingers weave into the ridiculously thick, silky locks of his hair.

  His head lowers and warm, sweet anticipation floods into me. But instead of kissing my lips, his lips graze my cheek. Around my eye. Jake’s kissing my bruises. Healing me with his touch. Softly, carefully, so he doesn’t hurt me. Each silky brush of his mouth lights a fiery little channel inside me, igniting me from within. My body comes to life. My breasts feel tender and full, my nipples hard and aching. My pussy is slippery and warm, throbbing with sweet heat. I sigh, he’s so beautiful.

  I take his face in my hands. Very, very gently, I kiss his cheek, rough with dark stubble. I kiss him again, kissing a light path closer to his mouth. His breathing is heavy and his eyes are open, watching mine.

  Then, I kiss his lips. His eyes close. He seems almost overcome. I kiss him again, feathery touches of my lips to his. Nipping gently. Touching my tongue to him. He makes a low sound, like a surrender. I lick him again, lightly, and his lips open. When I gently dip my tongue deeper, he touches his tongue to mine, kissing me back. Kissing me like a heartbreaking angel. Like a pirate who’s never tasted sweetness, who’s suddenly addicted.

  Her mouth.

  My reason to live has become this: getting closer to her, to everything about her. I can feel it in every cell of my body, like I’ve been asleep for the past twenty-seven years and have suddenly been jolted wide, wide awake.

  The soft, sublime intimacy is too much. Her kiss, quite literally, is breaking my heart. I’m about to spontaneously combust, on every level. My heartbeat is steady but hot, pumping with life and lust and love. She’s fixing me with her purity and her sweetness.

  I want you, I have to stop myself from telling her. I need you.

  I am at her mercy. I surrender, in every way it’s possible to do. I let her kiss me. For the first time in my life, I let someone in. I let her push past the boundaries I never thought anyone would be able to break. Her lips are so soft. So candy-sweet. Feeding feeling into me like liquid heat. The dazzling goodness of her spills into the damaged corners of my psyche, cooling the sadness, sparking something new. I kiss her back, tasting the nectar of her lips, her tongue. I give myself to her in a way I’ve never done before. Tenderly, completely, allowing everything she wants from me.

  Her hands touch my face. My hair. She kisses me again, more deeply. I open to her, drawing her in. My hands grip her body, pulling her closer. She kisses me in little licking love-bites, dipping her tongue into my mouth.

  Hell. I’m going to come if she keeps doing that. I’m so close.

  I’m going to die with need. My body is alive and hungry. My cock is huge and hot, spilling pre-cum. Very, very gently, I roll her outrageously nubile body closer, so she’s barely leaning up against me. She’s so soft against my hardness, so small next to my big, solid bulk. I need to be careful with her. It would be so easy to hurt her.

  She’s still kissing me, and I play her tongue with my own. She makes a little noise of pleasure. She tastes so good there are tears in my eyes.

  Go slow, Jake.

  My hands ease to the curve of her hips, and she presses up against me until I can’t stop myself. I grip her round, tight ass until she’s snug against me. The top two buttons of my jeans have popped open and several inches of my throbbing cock are free from the tight constraint. I have to: I reach down to unbutton the rest. I can’t take it. Only the thin fabric of her dress shields her warm, soft pussy from the gigantic ridge of my cock.

  I could so easily pull her dress up and ease the head of my cock into all that warm, wet softness. I could slide deep, deep inside her, claiming her, spilling my cum into all that beauty.

  I don’t.

  I wait. It takes everything I have but I wait for her to move, to come to me.

  My heart is pounding like a wild thing. My cock is pulsing with hot need, pu
shing me very close to breaking point.

  Fuck her. Take her. Own her.

  No. Be gentle. Keep your cool. Make sure she feels safe.

  That’s when she does it: she wriggles against me and sucks my tongue into her ludicrously sweet mouth.

  A gush of pre-cum spills from my raging cock.

  I’m riding the high of a rising tide, but I force myself to hold onto it. With every ounce of willpower I possess, I hold myself still. She presses against me, setting a tentative rhythm. So I slide my tongue deeper, tasting her in tender, intimate angles. I grip my brutal fingers into her, then ease the pressure, remembering to be gentle. I hold her close, pressing my cock against her warm pussy, until her softness cradles my rock-hard length. Through the thin film of her dress, I can feel how responsive she is, how wet. I press my cock harder against the mind-numbing suppleness of her, rubbing my hard shaft against her sweet warmth until she sighs and goes pliant against me.

  “Jake,” she coos. “Something’s happening. You feel too good.”

  My little angel. She doesn’t even know? She’s never even come? “It’s okay. I’ll be so careful with you. All you have to do is let me. Will you let me?”

  “I – yes,” she breathes. “But, Jake. I’ve never –”

  “It’s okay. Everything’s okay, I promise. Just relax with me. Let me take care of you.”

  She kisses me again. I hug her closer, gripping harder and pressing deeper.

  She’s on the edge, just like I am. I rub my cock against her sweet pussy, pressing the full length long and hard against her clit as I thrust my tongue into her mouth. She moans and writhes and I can feel her pussy squeezing and pulsing around my cock as she comes. I can’t take it. My orgasm explodes out of me in hot, seedy bursts, all over her. She’s sucking on my tongue as I come and it’s the most intimate thing that’s ever happened to me. Our mouths keep tasting and licking as the waves of our pleasure swell and roll. We just keep on coming.

  Her hands are weaved into my hair and we’re staring into each other’s eyes. Hers are as blue and inky as the night sky. I love you, I want to say, but it’s too soon. I don’t want to scare her.

  “Jake?”

  “Yeah?”

  She’s panting and the rise and fall of her breasts against me is a form of nirvana. “Can we do that again? I think I’ve got some lost time to make up for.”

  I laugh a little, then I groan as her little nymphet body writhes against my still-pulsing cock.

  “You got my dress all dirty,” she says, blinking at me with a coyness that makes me hard all over again.

  “I’ll buy you a new one.”

  I’m so overcome it takes me a minute to realize something’s going on. A noise. A pounding.

  Boom boom boom.

  What the fuck. Is it my heart? My head? My cock?

  No.

  It’s the fucking door. Someone’s knocking.

  Only one person in the world would have such ridiculously bad timing.

  My brother.

  Fuck.

  I consider not even answering the door. But it’s Alexander: I always answer the door. It’s our pact. If I don’t answer he’ll think I’m dead, or worse. He’ll end up breaking in or something equally stupid. Not only that, but somewhere through the haze of my lust, I know I’m probably going to need his help. His relationship with the law is a lot more secure than mine. And if I’m going to keep Sugar safe from the asshole who punched her up, I at least need to attempt to do it legally. Otherwise I’m pretty sure I’ll end up in a goddamn prison cell.

  Which can’t happen. Because I can’t be near her if I’m locked up.

  I need to be as close to her as possible. I need to keep her with me at all times.

  She’s become the only reason I want to keep breathing.

  I swore I wouldn’t hurt her, and I won’t. But there’s no way in hell I can resist her. There was a time, days ago or even hours ago, when might have tried to leave her alone, for her own good. But that futile intention sizzled into a pile of goddamn ash the second I tasted her.

  “Who’s here?” she says.

  “My brother and his wife, back from their honeymoon.”

  Boom boom boom.

  “I should probably let them in before they break down the door,” I say, but I can’t bring myself to let go of her.

  I kiss her again.

  She giggles and it’s the cutest, sweetest sound. Her smile feels like moonlight, like a shot of pure, pure ecstasy.

  “I don’t want to answer it,” I tell her. “I want to stay here with you.”

  Boom boom. “Jake. Open the door. I know you’re in there.”

  “Sounds like they really want to talk to you,” she says.

  To the door, I yell, “Hold on a fucking second.”

  I pull away from her, already feeling bereft. I grab a towel and do my best to clean us up. But her dress is lost cause. I grab one of my t-shirts out of my closet. She holds it up and laughs. It’s miles too big and hangs down to the middle of her thighs. “Harvard?” she reads.

  “Yeah, I got my MBA there. I’ll send your dress out to be dry-cleaned. And we’ll go shopping so I can buy you a new one. Until then, you’ll just have to wear that.”

  She puts my t-shirt on and just seeing her in it makes me feel ludicrously happy. I’ve come all over her and now she’s wearing my clothes. Now if I can just convince her to move in with me, marry me, have my babies and grow old with me … but I might just be getting ahead of myself here. All that will have to wait. There is one thing I can do now, though, so I do. I can’t help it: I kiss her again. I feel like I have a knack for this kissing thing, when it comes to Sugar. All I want to do is taste more of her.

  But if I keep this up, I’ll shoot my load all over us again.

  Boom boom boom.

  “Jesus Christ,” I mutter, buttoning my jeans and grabbing a shirt which I pull over my head.

  I walk out to the door and let Alexander and Lila in.

  They look glamorous and sun-tanned, and different, somehow. Like a few weeks of deep immersion into uninterrupted bliss has tempered them into the best possible versions of themselves. My brother, understandably, has spent most of his life working like a maniac. He’s driven and relentless in his pursuit of money and power, to such an extent that he’s probably made a lot more enemies than friends over the years. Partly because he doesn’t have time for being nice. All that started to change when he met Lila, though. He fell so hard for her I think he would’ve let his empire crumble around him just to keep her. At the time I didn’t really get it. Now, I understand why.

  Alexander slaps me on the back and Lila hugs me. She smells like flowers and sunshine. Her blond hair is a shade lighter than it was before they left, and her green eyes spangle.

  “Florida agreed with you two,” I say, adding, “You could’ve at least waited until a civilized hour to drop in.” But I’m glad to see them, despite the state of me. They’re the only people in the world I actually choose to spend time with. Aside from one new little acquaintance who I plan on following around like an adoring puppy until the day I die.

  I think about hiding in the bedroom, but I know my curiosity will get the better of me at some point, so I decide to dive right in. I’ve met Jake’s brother and his fiancé once before, although that hardly counted.

  I wonder if they’d be able to somehow detect what just happened to me. I feel flushed. And enlightened. My entire body is buzzing and the world has taken on a glittering tint. Like I’m seeing it with new, starry eyes.

  Who knew?

  I’m speechless, weak-kneed and still riding a killer endorphin rush. It’s ridiculous, of course: I’m twenty-three years old and I’ve just had my very first orgasm. And what an orgasm it was. I wasn’t joking when I told Jake I needed to make up for some lost time. Now that I know what I’ve been missing out on, I can’t wait for more.

  I’m wondering if what just happened classifies as Jake Wolfe coming out of his c
ave. I have a feeling it does.

  Despite the obviousness of the situation – me wearing Jake’s clothes and looking like I just rolled out of bed with him after climaxing my ass off, which I did in fact do – I stand in the doorway of his bedroom. I watch Jake with his family and I can’t help marvelling at the sight of him. His thick hair is messed up from my fingers. The t-shirt he’s wearing is worn and clings to the sculpted muscles of his brawny shoulders and chest, revealing the ink on his tanned arms. Stubble darkens his handsome face. He looks big, tousled, a little bit dangerous. And utterly delicious.

  “It’s eight fifteen,” his brother says, while unpacking several shopping bags full of food. He looks a lot like Jake – tall and dark and gorgeous – but he’s not quite as muscular and his hair is black instead of dark brown. And he’s not as perfectly … Jake as Jake. At that thought, I’m wondering the effects of those drugs are still holding on. “Just because you’re temporarily unemployed doesn’t mean you should be sleeping all day. We brought breakfast.”

  Jake’s brother does a double-take and halts in his tracks when he notices me standing in the doorway. His jaw actually drops. I blush a little, not only because I’m wearing Jake’s clothes but I also remember my bruises. My hair is unkempt, too. I must look like a crazyperson.

  But Jake doesn’t seem to mind. He walks over to me, beaming, and slides his arm around my waist.

  “Sugar. I’d like you to meet my brother Alexander and his wife, Lila. You’ve met once before, at the restaurant. Remember?”

  “Hi,” I say, blushing even more when Jake kisses my cheek. “Of course I remember.”

  “Sugar’s going to be staying with me for a while,” Jake says. “She had a little run-in with her stepfather’s fist. But she’s okay now.”