CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
Sarah
His dark blue eyes feel like they’re peering deep inside me while he works me with his cock, our bodies joined in the most intimate way possible.
He’s angled my body so he’ll hit the perfect spot, and even though I just came mere minutes earlier, I can already feel the telltale tightening of my muscles and the increasing wetness.
My eyes drift lower to where our bodies join and the sight of Jack, so impossibly hard and thick, pressing deep, then my eyes lift, taking in the sight of his firm abdominals and those slight V-lines framing them. His pectorals are smooth, and when I set my eyes on the slight beading of perspiration in the center of his chest, it sets me off.
My palms press against his chest, drawing him to an instant halt, and his eyes fill with concern.
“I need to be on top.” At the sight of his lips parting to protest, I stop him. “Please. Let me. Especially”—my lips curve up slightly—“after I caused your stitches.”
There’s the briefest pause then his eyes crinkle slightly. “As you wish.”
I roll over to make room, allowing him to lie back on the bed before I slide over, my legs straddling him. Grasping his hardness in my hand, my gaze locks with his as I guide myself down over him. Taking him inside me—without any protection—feels like the most decadent thing in the world.
And scary as shit, hisses an inner voice.
Lowering myself in one smooth movement, I feel Jack’s hands grip my hips, fingers flexing, as his eyes flit along the curves of my body. “You have no idea how breathtaking you are.” The warmth in his eyes is almost my undoing as the quiet, raspy quality of his voice displays his arousal.
Bracing my palms against the hard wall of his chest, I begin to move. His eyes fall closed, and a part of me is relieved I won’t have to witness everything within the depths of those dark blue orbs, yet I also feel a slight loss.
Jack’s lips part as his breathing mimics my own, coming out hot and fast. Sliding my palms up and over to rest on the mattress on either side of him, I latch my mouth onto him, and I’m caught off guard by his response. It’s as though he’s been anticipating my move. He slips one hand to the back of my head, and his fingers thread through my hair, tugging me even closer. Our kiss deepens, becoming an intoxicating combination of feverish, desperate, and devouring lust.
My motions speed up, and he works his hips, thrusting upward to match my pace, which is becoming more frantic as I edge closer to release. I ride him with a near desperation until he finally tears his mouth from mine.
“Ride me and touch yourself, Sunshine,” he whispers his words hoarsely, heavy with lust, and I find myself obeying his request.
Spurred on by the intensity of his gaze, I rise off his chest, and we both inhale sharply at the change in angle and how good it feels. Pressing a finger to my clit, I begin to rub in slow circles, my gaze locked with his own heavy-lidded one. Jack continues rocking his hips, working me over his cock.
As my movements quicken, on the brink of reaching climax, he murmurs huskily, “Beautiful.”
It’s the reverence in his tone that pushes me over the edge, my orgasm crashing over me in fierce waves. I vaguely register the sound of his accompanied groan, his fingers clenching my hips as he rides out his own release.
Collapsing onto his chest, our combined ragged breathing the only sound in the room, I feel one of his hands gliding over my back in a light, soothing caress.
“Universe be damned,” Jack’s low murmur settles over me before he presses a soft kiss to the top of my head.
* * *
“You’re the first guy who’s let me eat my chocolate in bed.”
I meant for that to be flippant, teasing, but after I say it, I instantly wish I could take it back because it makes me sound like one of those women. The type who gets into hardcore commitment mode and shares morning coffee in bed with her boyfriend.
Does it count that I’m sitting here, in bed, propped against what have to be the softest, fluffiest pillows known to mankind beside the man who rocked my world mere minutes ago? Jack poured us some wine, and we’re curled up on his bed, watching 17 Again on his small flat screen mounted on the wall across from us. He surprised me with a small handful of the brand of chocolates I love, apologizing for them being milk chocolate instead of my favored dark chocolate.
“Sorry, Sunshine,” he’d said. “I picked the wrong bag and didn’t realize it until I opened it just now.”
“It’s chocolate,” I’d stated firmly, picking one from his proffered hand. “One should never scoff at chocolate.”
Now, unwrapping the foil wrapper, I scan the inner message written on it before taking a small bite of the chocolate.
Let delicious happen.
Allowing the milk chocolate to melt in my mouth and coat my tongue in its sweetness, I’m startled when Jack turns his face, nuzzling my neck. “I’d like to let some more delicious happen.”
“Oh, really?” I toss out playfully. “I’m intrigued, Westbrook. Tell me more.” A slow smile curves my lips at his playful grunt before I pop the remainder of the chocolate into my mouth.
“I’d rather show you.” He slides over me, my naked breasts pressed against the hard wall of his chest. Taking my mouth in his, his tongue dips inside, tasting me, and eliciting a groan from us both. The flavor of Jack combined with the chocolate must be one of the best things I’ve ever tasted.
When he tears his lips from mine, I can’t restrain a whimper. My eyes watch as his darken with heated lust, his bottom lip smudged slightly with chocolate. Reaching out, I’m intent on swiping my thumb over his lip, but as soon as the pad of it touches his skin, his lips close over it. And he sucks. Hard.
How is it possible that I feel it—his suction and his tongue—all the way down deep? Arousal pulses throughout my body at his touch, and I’d give anything to feel that tongue, that mouth, on my pussy.
Abruptly, Jack shifts to his knees on either side of my legs, reaching over to the end table and grabbing another foil-wrapped treat. Cupping his hands around it, it takes me a moment to realize what he’s doing.
He’s heating it up with his hands, using his body heat to make it more malleable. Then he straddles my legs, unwraps the chocolate, tosses the wrapper aside, and runs the tip of it around one of my nipples.
Jack ducks his head, eyes locked with mine, and runs his tongue along the track of chocolate, lapping it up and sucking up every bit. He repeats the motion with my other breast, and this time, when he flicks the tip of his tongue against my nipple, I can’t stifle the low hiss that escapes my lips.
“What do you think?” he murmurs against my skin, still holding my gaze. “You ready to let delicious happen?”
“Not sure if I’m entirely interested since you’re getting all the chocolate,” I retort.
His lips twitch into a smirk that’s so incredibly sexy, my breath catches slightly. “Oh, but I plan on you getting it.” At my confused expression, he slides down my body until he’s cradled between my thighs.
With the remainder of the chocolate between his finger and thumb, he drags it along the crease of my opening and around my clit before he dips it inside briefly. Withdrawing it, he places it in his mouth, eyes falling closed as if to savor the sweetness now mixed with the wetness of my arousal.
When his eyes open, they’re burning hot with lust, and his head slowly descends. “Delicious is about to happen,” he whispers seconds before his mouth and tongue devour me in the most intimate of kisses. The scent of chocolate fills the air, and Jack alternates between using his tongue to dart inside and taste me deeply, and fastening his lips over my clit and sucking it gently, applying the right amount of pressure.
He senses when I’m fast approaching my release by pressing my thighs wider and seals his mouth over me. His tongue darts wildly, deep inside me, urging me on; the fingers of his hands nearly painful in their grip on my knees spread wide. Shudders of release overtake me as I ride out my orgasm, my hips moving wildly of their own accord. My breaths are coming out in harsh pants as I work myself over his tongue while he ravages me with his mouth.
Once my breathing has evened out, I watch Jack as he rises from between my legs, his chin slightly smeared with melted chocolate and a smugness tugging at the corners of his lips. Sliding up my body, he braces himself above me on his forearms.
“What do you think?” One eyebrow rises expectantly. “Did delicious happen?”
I pretend to ponder this, looking off to the corner of the room. “Hmm, it’s a tough call, really.”
“Is that so?” he asks, humor lacing his tone.
Meeting his eyes, I lift a shoulder in a slight shrug, trying to maintain nonchalance. “It’s hard to judge such a subpar job.”
His face stretches into a wide smile, eyes alit with amusement. “Oh, Sunshine.” He laughs before pressing a soft kiss to my lips, his expression softening. “Now we can agree that the universe has nothing to do with any of this.” He pauses, dusting a trail of tiny kisses along my jawline. “Nothing to do with any of this, let alone love.”
My body instantly goes rigid at his words, and it’s clear that he picks up on it when he lifts his head to peer down at me with a quizzical expression. “What’s wrong?”
“No one said anything about love, Jack.” I try to say calmly, but I know there’s a tinge of panic there.
He doesn’t immediately respond, his eyes studying me carefully. Finally, his gaze softens, and he murmurs the last thing I expect.
“I guess I’m saying it now.” Those blue eyes of his appear a darker, deeper shade, his tone tender. “That I fell in lo—”
“No!” I press my fingers to his lips to stop him from spewing anything more. My entire body is in fight or flight mode—the adrenaline pumps through me, and my heart is racing. Shoving him off me, I fight against the tangle of bedsheets, frantic to get free.
Nearly toppling over onto the floor, I right myself in the nick of time. Rushing to the small plush chair beside the bedroom window where Jack was thoughtful enough to place my earlier discarded clothing, my movements are jerky as I tug items on, uncaring whether they’re on inside out or backward.
“What are you doing, Sarah?”
The calmness of Jack’s tone grates on me. How can he be so calm right now? After nearly saying outright that he loves me? I feel like someone punched me in the solar plexus. I thought we were on the same page.
“Look, just because we’ve finally managed to screw to”—I stutter in my haste at finding my words—“completion doesn’t mean the universe hasn’t been telling—no, screaming—that this isn’t meant to be. I mean, really.” I make a derisive noise. “It shouldn’t be this challenging to actually have sex and follow through with things!” My voice edges into hysteria.
“It’s not all about sex, Sarah. There’s more to us than just that.” I don’t miss the fact that he’s using my name. Sarah. Not Sunshine.
“Obviously, you’re expecting a lot more out of this.”
His expression closes off, features tightening. “Out of what? What am I expecting?”
I circle a finger, gesturing between us. “Out of us. You’re expecting a happily ever after like Ry got with Maggie. But you and I both know”—I break off with a brittle sounding laugh—“I’m no Maggie.”
His gaze holds mine before speaking slowly. “I know that.” There’s a brief pause. “I don’t want what Ry and Maggie have.” When he steps toward me, the fierceness in his eyes makes me subconsciously take a step back. “I want what you and I started to have; I want that to continue.” His gaze drops to his feet, both hands running through his hair, disheveling it slightly as if gathering his thoughts before his eyes find mine again. “For us to figure out our own happily ever after.”
Shaking my head, I gape. “What?”
“What the hell do you think we’ve been doing, Sarah?” He stares incredulously. “We’ve spent time together doing just about anything and everything!”
“And getting interrupted at every turn when things turned sexual!” I shoot back. “Come on, Jack.” My voice rises as my indignation escalates. “We. Hang. Out.” My words are practically bitten out in short staccato bursts. “Don’t make more out of this!”
Examining my features, he seems to be desperately trying to detect something. “What was all this, then?” He waves a hand wildly. “All this time we spent together? For shits and giggles?” His expression turns hard. “Because you had to know I wasn’t hanging around just to fuck you, Sarah.”
My entire body jerks at his crass words. I don’t think it’s possible that his features could become more disgusted.
Huffing out a short breath in frustration, I level my gaze on him. “I never led you to believe I was looking for more. I told you about my parents. About my mother. I refuse to ever be like her. I mean”—I wave a hand wildly—“just look at her. She’s a fifty-something hippie bouncing from one boyfriend to the next, still searching for affirmation after my dad left. I’ve seen how that works.” Gaining more steam, I surge forward. “I can’t do forever, Jack. That was never my deal.”
He stares at me without saying a word. The silence seems to drag on forever even though I know, in reality, it only lasts a few seconds.
“What if that was mine?” He delivers his question softly, and the way he utters it slips deep inside, sending shards of panic running through me.
His jaw works, eyes narrowing on me. “Tell me this,” he demands, stepping closer. “What other guy knows about your ‘menstrual snacks’? How you like to have a stash of those special chocolates with the messages written on the inside of the wrapper? Or how your breath hitches when he places a kiss at that certain spot on your neck, just below your ear?” He pauses for a beat. “What other guy have you gone to—what other guy has held you in his arms—after you’ve lost a patient?”
He drags in a harsh breath. “You need to let me in, Sarah. Yes, you let me see past some of your everyday façade, but you won’t let me in.” Shaking his head slowly, the hurt is etched upon his handsome features. “Not entirely.”
The room is closing in on me while, simultaneously, the air is being sucked out of it. My chest feels like an elephant is sitting on it, and the tightness is excruciating. Gasping for air, I push past him, desperate to make my escape.
“I need to go.” Rushing out of the bedroom and down the hallway, I grab my purse and slip on my shoes, practically sprinting toward the door.
“If you leave, that’s it.” The finality in his voice carries down the hallway, giving me pause when my fingers touch the door handle. “I won’t force something you don’t want.”
It takes great effort to get the words out. “I know.” Pulling open the door, I ignore the faint inner voice whispering that I’m making a mistake.
“Goodbye, Sarah.”
As I tug the door closed behind me with a soft click, I whisper, “Goodbye, Jack.”