by Tessa Bailey
“Jack, please.”
“Almost there, honey,” I say through clenched teeth. “Feels a little too good without a rubber. Be patient while I talk my dick down.”
“I don’t want him to go down.”
My laugh releases in a burst. “Figure of speech. Trust me, it’s up for the duration.”
Katie smiles at me and my pulse triples. “I like the idea of you going crazy. Like you can’t control yourself.”
My abs seize, the blood flow to my dick raging hotter. “Oh shit. Stop talking like that.”
Her breath grows choppy and I sense my doom approaching. Maybe I’m a masochist because my cock swells, lengthens and my hunger speeds towards the danger. “I want to watch you use me,” Katie whispers. “Want to watch you hurt. Watch the relief hit.”
A groan wrenches from my throat. “No, you . . . fuck, Katie, you gave me this . . . privilege. Being inside you like this. I’m not going to screw it up.”
“You’d be giving me what I want.” The hands she’s been resting on my shoulders drop down between us, slipping up to cup her tits, basically setting the world on fire around me. “For me?”
There’s no stopping myself now. I’m a man who has gone four days without his girl. A girl who has given me more selfless gifts than I can stand. A girl I was the first to claim. The possessiveness roars through me, a brutal flood of urgency. With one hand on her ass, I flatten the other on the wall above her head. Then I rear my hips back, dragging my aching flesh out of its home, then ramming it back into the hot perfection. My vision doubles as Katie is driven up against the wall, her hands clutching her tits like they can save her. Like anything can. “Fuck, I’m . . . I’m not sure how to hold on.” My voice is made of burnt coal. “I’ve been too depressed to jerk off since you left me.”
Katie is past hearing me. She’s writhing between me and the wall, tempting and gobbled up by lust. “Harder, Jack. Harder.”
“Jesus. Jesus Christ. I’ll eat your pussy afterwards, honey.” A mental curtain drops down, blocking my resistance or coherent thought, leaving nothing but a driving hunger to fuck. Tether. Snapped. Both of my hands find Katie’s bottom, holding it in place as I plow into her, my hips scooping, slamming, scooping, slamming. “Can’t get it any deeper. Found where you end, didn’t I?” Her knees lift and I press them into the wall with my shoulders, pinning them there. “Does it hurt? I can’t stop pumping. Fuck, Katie. Goddammit. You’re wet as a motherfucker.” My mouth is crammed against her ear, my vision winking to black, my stomach shuddering, clenching with the oncoming release. “I can’t wait to fuck your little clit with my tongue. Rubbing against it with my cock right now. Making it nice and swollen for myself, so I can wrap my lips around it. Tell me you want that.”
“I want that.”
“Good. You’re going to get it.” A growl shivers up my spine, spearing me in the throat. I’m hovering right on the brink of a mind-numbing climax. But now I sense Katie is close and my mind is pulling back the reins, responsibility and affection making it impossible to be selfish. “Drop your legs,” I order in a desperate voice. “I’ve got you.”
Confusion wrinkles her brow, but she follows my order, leaving her feet dangling down near my straining calves. A split second later, when I thrust up between her thighs, a scream leaves her mouth, the advantages of the position clearly hitting her. “Oh my God, Jack. M-more. Please, more.”
Easier said than done, shout my balls, but my mind, my heart is obsessed with the pleasure on her face. My experience isn’t something to be ashamed of in that moment, but something to be celebrated. And no one on the planet but Katie could make that a reality. I just want to repay her, any way I can. Over and over forever. “Feels better for your clit, doesn’t it, honey? Tilt your hips forwards—good, Katie, fuck, that’s so good—and let me make you come.”
As I drive into her in slow, measured thrusts, gravity grinds her sweet spot down on my cock. Dazed blue eyes look at me, but she’s blind, her mouth opened in an O. The points of her nipples drag up and down my chest, the top of my abdomen. Her nails dig into my shoulders, breaking the skin and knowing how good I’m making her feel sails me even closer to the edge of the world, leaving me teetering right over the drop.
“Mine,” I groan into the top of her head. “Mine?”
“Yes.”
“Mine to come inside?”
“Y-yes.” The single, incredible word splinters into husky cries, her pussy clamping around my dick. And I lose it. I bend my knees and fuck up into her in a rough push, smacking her ass against the wet wall and circling my hips, grinding into her spasming flesh, marking it as mine. The battle ends when she screams Jack, her fingernails raking down my back and burying in the flesh of my ass. My orgasm is painful in its intensity, rocking me from the soles of my feet to the top of my head. I press my mouth against the damp marble wall and shout through the ringing of my insides, the emptying of my lust.
And for the first time, there’s no guilt or shame or doubt chomping on the heels of my release. The first time with Katie ruined me for any other experience, but we hadn’t laid ourselves bare yet. There’s been a tiny piece missing. Now? As I stand in the shower, my world rocked on its axis, holding her against me? The whole fucking picture is right in front of me and it’s bright and colorful. Beautiful. Everything I never knew existed.
There’s a tinny refrain in the back of my head, though.
She’s leaving. She’s leaving.
That unwanted reminder shoots me full of holes, denials springing to my lips, but instead of voicing them, I set Katie on her feet and drop to my knees. “Said I would eat you. Let me. Need to taste it.”
Still dizzy, I manage to push Katie’s legs open, parting her pussy with a long lick. I seesaw my tongue right where she needs it, unable to play games or tease after I’ve just had my mind and heart rearranged. She’s smooth and salty, my come just beginning to leave her. When she cries out, her cunt vibrating against my mouth, I’ve barely gotten my fill, but she’s tugging my face away, words and protests barely coherent, so I tuck away the rest of my appetite for later, knowing she needs something else now.
Gaining my feet, I turn off the shower, leaving our racing breaths to echo in the sudden silence. Then I scoop her up and climb out of the tub, collecting a towel on the way out of the bathroom. I set her down beside the bed, memorizing the sight of her half-damp, tumbled red hair, the teeth marks on her mouth, the swell of her naked tits, the curve of her hips. Towel in hand, I keep our eyes locked as I soak up the moisture I left between her thighs. Her sucked-in breath tells me she’s sensitive.
My dick reacts. Because, of course.
But now isn’t the time for another round, even though my mind is suddenly filled with the notion of pushing her back onto the bed and riding her tight body until she comes again. I could do it. I want to cram in as many experiences as possible before she leaves. Those experiences have to be more than sex, but I’m so fucking new at having a girl, coming up with new, better ways to make her happy is like throwing darts in a pitch-black room. After all she’s done for me, though, I’ll throw darts until my arms falls off.
With a clogged throat and one eye trained on the fast approaching weekend, I finish drying us both off, peel back the covers and hold my girl through the night, the sound of her breath lulling me into the deepest sleep of my life. But not deep enough to stave off dreams of airplanes taking off and landing somewhere out of my reach.
Chapter 22
Katie
Waking up to a heart attack isn’t something I recommend.
Just like the last time we slept beside one another—although, this time I’m not handcuffed—Jack shoots into a sitting position and shouts my name, sending a scream ripping up my throat, my hands reaching towards the lamp to use it as a weapon. My mind registers the lack of threat at the same time his big, warm, naked body lands on mine, tackling me gently into the pillows. Giving new meaning to the word euphoria.
“S
orry.” His voice is scratchy, a lot like the stubble nuzzling into my neck. A heavy forearm drags my hips back, fitting me against a decidedly awake male lap, but just as the moisture begins to gather between my thighs, Jack’s body tenses. “Don’t tell me that’s the actual time.”
I don’t realize my eyes are closed until I have to squint one in the direction of the bedside clock. Eight twenty-nine. “Maybe there was a power outage,” I surmise in a hopeful tone. “It could happen, right?”
“Fuck this.” He rolls me onto my stomach, his mouth hot and hungry against my nape, his erection heavy against the crease of my backside. “I’m playing hooky.”
“You can’t,” I gasp, the brakes of my mind screeching. “Jack, I won’t let you.”
His miserable groan makes me laugh until he drops his weight, forcing the oxygen straight out of my lungs. “It’s Friday. We only have until Sunday morning. I can’t spend one of those days cooped up in a gymnasium, when I could spend it making you moan.” He turns cajoling, rolling his hips and rumbling my name in my ear. “Don’t make me go, honey.”
Oh, I’m so bloody tempted to throw my mission aside and spend the day beneath Jack. Trust me, I am. But my leaving in two days can’t be the reason he stays, it has to be the reason he goes to the academy. I haven’t forgotten the meeting with Lieutenant Burns. The man’s words are still ringing in my ears and I won’t give him one more reason to overlook Jack’s talent. I refuse to be the cause of him falling behind, then leaving him to deal with the consequences.
For the first time, the reality that I’m leaving punches me hard in the midsection. My leaving has been a given since day one. Something that will happen. With Jack breathing in my hair, however, boarding a plane to Ireland and watching New York grow smaller in a tiny window seems like a fast approaching tragedy. Do I miss my parents? Of course I do. Do I miss my job? Somewhat. I miss the fulfillment of laying my head down at day’s end, assured that my instruction helps keep people safe. That my skills aren’t going to waste.
They definitely won’t go to waste if I agree to begin training with my father again, will they? The unmade decision is clinging to my organs like a leech, sapping me of the will to do anything for myself. Anything that could shape the future when it suddenly seems out of my control.
My father needs me. Jack needs me. What do I need?
“You’ve gone quiet on me, Snaps. Something tells me it’s not because you’ve changed your mind about me ditching training.”
“No,” I whisper, shaken from my troubling train of thought. “No, I . . .”
A beat passes wherein I get the feeling we’re both holding our breath. That is, until Jack flips me over onto my back, searching my face with worried green eyes. “You changed your mind.”
“About what?”
“This. Us. Until Sunday.”
“No.” I scoot back and sit up, throwing my arms around his neck. His hands remain at his sides, like they’ve lost the ability to function. “No, I didn’t change my mind, Jack. I’m only quiet because . . .” Despite the niggling fear that I’m falling into the same pattern of being needed, the truth is still crystal clear. “I didn’t realize it was going to be so hard. To leave, you know?”
Slowly his arms weave around me, holding me tighter and tighter until I’m crushed to his chest. “Yeah, I know. I’ve known. This isn’t new for me.”
“It seemed so far away.”
Silence thrums around us. “Are you worried about what I’ll do when you leave? Is that what this is about?”
A tank crashes in my stomach, because I hadn’t considered the obvious. But there’s no pretending when our heartbeats are pressed together. “Yes.”
“Me, too.” He tilts my chin up. “You’re the one who held up a mirror. You’re the one who brought me to the meeting.” Regret mixes with determination on his face. “But I’d be worried about slipping even if you weren’t leaving. Fixing this problem of mine? That’s on me. You’re not responsible, Katie, understand?”
I want to believe him. God, I really do. Yanking the rug out from beneath his feet when he’s only just gotten his balance, though? It’s going to make getting on that plane brutal. What option do I have but to leave? I’m here on a short trip. I have no work visa, didn’t apply for one because finding a reason to stay never entered my mind. Is staying an option now?
No, of course not. That would be impulsive. Totally mental. My entire family is back home. My job. Childhood friends, if not professionally connected ones. I’ve built a life in Dublin since the Olympics concluded and I haven’t even given myself a chance to flourish. Whether or not I agree to train for Tokyo, my life is three thousand miles away.
Not to mention, Jack hasn’t asked me to stay. Major detail. And a sign that I’m getting way ahead of the game and setting myself up for a disappointment when he inevitably doesn’t ask. I’d have to decline anyway so this whole line of thought is total bollocks.
Bollocks, Katie.
“What is going on in that head?” Jack asks slowly, swaying us side to side. “It looks serious.”
“I’m only just remembering we decided to have dessert for dinner. We didn’t even eat.”
“Order it for breakfast instead and save me something?” That pirate smile makes an appearance. His hand drops from my chin, down to my stomach, his knuckles trailing over my belly button. Lower. “I’ll eat it later.”
My libido dances in a circle. “This is a classic have your cake and eat it, too, situation.”
He swoops in and captures my mouth in a thorough kiss, before pulling away with a groan. “You think being so damn cute will help convince me to leave?”
When his erection nudges me in the belly, I know we’re reaching the point of no return, so I force myself to back up. “I have a meeting today, anyway.” I swing my legs off the bed and stand, only brazening out my nakedness for two seconds before snatching up a pillow and hiding behind the fluffy barrier. “I’ll save you something sweet.”
Jack has no such modesty and he’s . . . dear God. He’s stunning on a normal basis, but wrapped in morning light, the beginnings of a beard and no clothes? He looks as though heaven spat him out onto my hotel bed. “You just save me some, Katie, huh?” A wink in my direction has me sighing. “Come out with us tonight. Me, you. Charlie, Ever, D. We’ll go grab Mexican food.” His eyes are level. “Just dinner.”
I nod right away, relieved there’s a definitive point in the future when I’ll see him again. Maybe I’ll even be able to pretend Sunday isn’t speeding towards me like a train with the brakes cut. “Okay.”
My agreement has his shoulders relaxing. “After training lets out, I’ll go to a meeting, then come get you.”
“You’re good to go alone?”
“Yes.” Jack holds my gaze for a heavy beat of time. “Yes.” He moves past me into the bathroom, emerging a moment later clad in boxer briefs, pulling his T-shirt down to cover his chest. Pity, that. “We’ll head over to the restaurant together, yeah?” After stooping down to pull on his jeans, he leans in and kisses me, the tempo increasing, my blood firing hotter and hotter until he pulls away with clear reluctance. “Tonight.”
“Tonight,” I echo.
Jack takes a long look at me, then heads for the door, stuffing his feet into boots and picking up his jacket on the way. Before he can walk out, however, he returns on swift feet, stealing the pillow out of my hands and tossing it on the bed. “You’re too beautiful to hide.”
I stand, glued in place, and stare at the door for long minutes after he’s gone, wondering how in the world I fell in love in just two short weeks.
Turns out, it’s not as much fun having dessert for breakfast while alone. That didn’t stop me from devouring a basket of beignets with raspberry sauce from room service while still in my robe. Shameful behavior, really, but I was feeling self-righteous with my sore shower sex muscles. I’d earned a few extra calories and trashy television, no? Well, that attitude lasted all of seven seconds before
my regimented training kicked in and I dragged my ass down to the hotel gym for a run. Someday I will learn to indulge without guilt, but for now I’m happy with baby steps.
A shower and change of clothes later, I’m walking into 1 Police Plaza for the meeting I told Jack about. What I hadn’t mentioned was this: It was unscheduled. And the chance I’ll pull off a face-to-face with the ESU commanding officer is about as good as a lampshade being elected mayor. That doesn’t mean I’m not going to try. The CO and I had a cursory meet and greet last week, one of the brass big boys welcoming me to New York on behalf of the exchange program, but he doesn’t strike me as a desk jockey. This could be a wasted trip, but I’ve made it downtown so I’m damn well going to attempt a sit-down.
When the officer stationed at the front desk looks up at me and does a double take, I tamp down the urge to check if my zipper is down. Oh God, what if I’m not even wearing pants? But no, he smooths his hair and adjusts his collar, as if he’s interested. In me.
The sparkly feminine pleasure that slips around in my belly is new. There’s no hesitation or surprise behind it. Before this trip, I avoided men in any capacity but professional because I was so sure I would make a bollocks of any encounter with so little experience in my arsenal. Not so far-fetched, considering the closest I’d come to a date was exchanging pleasantries with the cute checkout man at Tesco while buying cereal.
It’s Jack having this effect on me. The way he looks at me lingers, even when he’s not around. Like a sweater fresh from a clothesline warmed by the sun, it hugs me close, surrounding every inch of me with security. Earlier while getting dressed, I caught my own reflection in the mirror and saw a new glow on my cheeks. Less tension around my eyes. A languidness to my movements. Has this feminine confidence always been there waiting to shine? I think so. It feels so natural sustaining eye contact with the officer as I approach the desk.