CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
Jack
Sarah’s quiet on the ride back to my place. Far too quiet, actually, and I can’t help but wonder as we ride along the streets of downtown Saratoga Springs if she’s pondering Clint’s unsettling remark.
As if the universe has anything against us getting it on, I scoff internally. Glancing over at her profile as she maneuvers the car through heavier than usual traffic for a Sunday evening, I notice the slight furrow in her brow. The sight of her troubled expression sends a dense rush of foreboding rolling through me.
When she pulls into the numbered guest parking spot assigned to me, the pressure in my chest lessens slightly because I assume she’s coming in with me. The tension is still present on the elevator ride up to my floor.
“Thanks for tonight.”
Her eyebrows shoot up, lips twisting in a humorless quirk. “You’re thanking me for causing you to slam your head into my glass table?”
I eye her carefully. “You know what I mean.” The elevator chimes before the doors slide open, and she steps out before I follow suit. “Thanks for sticking around.”
Stopping at my door, I reach for my keys in my pocket, sliding the key into the lock before turning back to her. Sarah’s leaning against the wall, eyes guarded. Stepping closer, I rest my palms flat against the wall on either side of her and cage her in.
“Sunshine, you have no idea how long it’s been since someone’s hung around and taken care of me. So thank you.” My voice is low, gravelly with emotion, because even within my dim memories of my mother, I recall her being the last woman to take it upon herself to go above and beyond to care for me.
Her features appear to soften, the tenseness on her face easing. “You’re welcome,” she replies softly.
Opening my door, we enter and remove our shoes. “You should try to get some rest, but…” She trails off, looking uncomfortable, and I know in my gut what she’s about to say next.
The knowing doesn’t make it sting any less, however.
“What Clint said earlier got me thinking.” The crease between her eyebrows pops up, begging me to smooth it out. Reaching into her small purse, the strap across her chest, she pulls out one of those chocolates she keeps on hand. She averts her gaze, focusing on her fingers unwrapping the foil, plucking the chocolate out, and reading the message on the inside wrapper. Taking a tiny bite, she chews and swallows before pressing on.
“Think about it, Jack. We’ve been through this how many times, right? And every time, something happens. An interruption or something bad happens to throw things off. That’s not normal.” Shaking her head, she puts the remainder of the chocolate back into the wrapper. “I think we should take it as a sign that it’s not meant to b—”
My hand reaches out to grasp her wrist with the chocolate. Stepping closer to her, I watch as her eyes widen. I can see the uncertainty in her expression, wondering what I’m doing. Bringing her hand to my mouth, I wrap my lips around the remainder of chocolate, licking her fingers clean, and I give her my response.
“No.”
Shock is visible on her face. “No?” she repeats in disbelief. “What do you me—”
“I mean…” I swallow, allowing the bulk of the melted chocolate to coat my tongue, then dip my head closer to her so my breath washes against her lips. “No, I’m not letting you take it as a sign.”
“But—”
I cut off her response, my mouth crashing down on hers in a deep, chocolatey kiss, pressing my body against hers and trapping her between me and the wall. Our kiss is desperate, needy, passionate, and devouring—all these emotions are running through me at this exact moment.
Nudging her thighs further apart, I press closer, letting her feel my arousal. My hands slide up her sides, dragging the hem of her shirt with them until my thumbs rest beneath her breasts. Her chest is rising and falling with labored breathing, and I wonder if she even realizes she’s arching into my touch as if desperately trying to urge me on. Cupping her bra-clad breasts, I brush the pads of my thumbs over her nipples, and at that moment, a moan escapes her.
Practically tearing off her shirt, I make quick work of her bra, and soon, her torso is bared to me. Without allowing her any time for more doubts to cloud her mind, I drag my lips down the column of her neck, placing wet kisses along her collarbone before latching onto one of her nipples while my finger and thumb toy with the other. Loving it with my lips and tongue, I revel in her harsh breathing, the tiny gasps that my actions elicit before moving my mouth to the other hardened peak.
“Jack,” she breathes. “Jack, we need to—”
I choose that moment to suck hard before letting her nipple free with an audible pop as my eyes lock onto hers. “I think you should let me figure out what we need, Sunshine.”
Hastily unbuttoning her jeans, I tug them down and off with her underwear and socks following. Without any pause, I slide one finger to her entrance to test her wetness and find her absolutely fucking drenched.
Fuck control. I’m laying it all on the line. She needs to see that nothing—no hokey shit about the universe—will keep us from making love.
Thrusting another finger deep inside her, I swallow her moans with my mouth on hers. My other hand delves into her hair and fists the soft strands. Working her with my fingers, I feel her arousal coating them, and her hips begin to rock, urging me on.
Dropping to my knees, I press her thighs further apart; my mouth goes directly for her clit, lips wrapping around it, and applying a gentle suction. Her hands fly to my hair as my name falls from her lips in a whispered moan. My two fingers continue moving in and out of her in rapid thrusts, and she tightens her grasp of my hair.
“Jack,” she whispers my name, again, but this time I can hear it in her voice; I can hear that she’s on the precipice.
Fastening my lips firmly to her clit, I use the tip of my tongue to toy with it while my fingers continue sliding in and out of her wetness. As soon as I feel her inner muscles tighten, I speed up my motions, and it catapults her over the edge. Her hips work as she rides out her orgasm, pressing against my tongue shamelessly.
Once her tremors subside, I raise my eyes to meet her languid gaze, holding it as I slide up her body and lift her by the waist. Instinctively, she wraps her legs around my hips and her arms around my neck, and I carry her to my bedroom. As I head down the hallway, she dusts a trail of delicate kisses from my temple downward—opposite of the side where I’m sporting a new set of stitches—and nibbles at my earlobe.
Lowering her to the bed while leaving her legs dangling over the edge, I take a moment to take in the sight of her lying back against the dark gray bed sheets.
Carefully, I remove my shirt without brushing against my bandage before shucking my jeans, boxer briefs, and socks. The way her eyes drift down my body sends a surge of arousal rushing through me, and my cock jerks slightly. Gripping the base, I slowly stroke the length, watching her eyes track my movements and her lips part in anticipation.
I step between her legs, my hands going to her hips. Her eyes widen in surprise when I tug her closer to me, moving her ass to the edge of the bed and placing her feet flat on the mattress. My gaze locked with hers, I guide my cock to her, tracing the tip over her entrance.
“Nothing’s stopping this from happening, Sunshine,” I murmur, pressing inside her barely a centimeter, my voice hoarse from restraining myself. The heat radiating from her, the scent of her arousal, is nearly more than I can withstand.
“Don’t go slow,” she protests breathlessly, gently rocking her hips, urging me on.
I have to grit my teeth; the urge to thrust wildly into her fully is so tempting. But I can’t do that—won’t do it. I need to show her I have finesse. That I will—
“Make me come all over your cock.”
Fuck. My groan is loud, and my hands slide over the smoothness of her thighs, gripping them, my eyes still on her. “You don’t want finesse?” I inch in further before stopping.
“No.” She pants, her fingers clenching in the bedsheets, nipples hard and begging for my mouth. “I need you deep inside me, Jack.”
Unable to restrain myself any longer, I drive deep inside her and reach for her breasts. I tug at her nipples, and she throws her head back against the covers, coating my cock with more wetness.
Shifting my hands to her legs, I lift them, draping her knees over my arms to allow me to slide impossibly deeper inside her.
“Look at me,” I command. “Let me see those beautiful eyes.” I need her to see—to realize that this is happening. That nothing can get in the way of us.
I need her to see that my body’s joining hers and that I’m giving her a part of me.
My heart.
My soul.
My everything.