Take Me

“What in the f**k is your problem this morning, Jacob?”

He didn’t look at her. Didn’t want to see her righteous anger. “No problem.” He took a bite of his pancakes. He had a hell of a time chewing and forcing himself to swallow.

“What? Do you think I’m going to try to force a commitment out of you? I know you don’t have it in you. I knew that from the beginning.”

Her words should have appeased his fears. Instead they slashed his soul. But she was right. He didn’t have the ability to commit, so why did her saying it hurt? He should be relieved. He had a powerful need to put on his sunglasses. She had to be able to see the turmoil in his eyes. He supposed he should be glad that she’d misinterpreted it for once.

“That’s a relief,” he said and forced a laugh that he hoped didn’t sound as false to her ears as it did to his.

“You don’t look relieved.”

So much for fooling her.

“I didn’t mean to get intimate with you, Amanda. It just sort of happened.”

“Well, I meant to get intimate with you,” she said. “I’ve been wanting to bone you for years.”

She grinned at him, and his heart took its first unrestricted beat since he’d opened his eyes that morning. He attempted a smile. It felt slightly more natural. His shoulders and back, however, were still all sorts of tense.

“So where in the world did you come up with the idea for making your bed into a stage?”

He blushed. Lord, no one ever made him blush. “Uh, Adam and I used to frequent this sex club in New Orleans. It’s performance based. There’s a stage and a director who tells you how to f**k your partner. People watch. It’s quite a head rush. I liked the performance part, but not having a director.”

“That’s because you need to be in charge.” She smirked at him.

The tension continued to slowly drain from his body. He found he could chew naturally and even swallow without activating his gag reflex.

“Yeah, I don’t take directions well. I was told that if I couldn’t follow the director’s instructions, then I shouldn’t come back. I haven’t been back since. I think Adam still goes. He likes to be watched. I just love to perform onstage; I don’t need the audience to get off. Some woman said how her biggest fantasy was for me to f**k her onstage during a concert—to sing to her—and have every move displayed on the big screens in the stadium so everyone could see it. That’s when I decided to turn my bedroom into a private stadium. I like to please the ladies.” He winked at her.

“And we thank you for that.”

“Did you enjoy your time on stage, Miss Lange?”

“You deliver an amazing performance.”

Pleased by her compliment, he smiled broadly and took another bite of his pancakes.

“I wouldn’t mind another encore,” she said.

He choked.

“What time do you have to meet the tour bus?” she asked.

“Around noon.”

She grinned. “I’m not sure if two hours gives us enough time. I’ve never met a man who could go at it as long as you can.”

“Practice makes perfect.” He paused. Why had he said that? Expecting retaliation, he cringed and forced himself to meet her wrathful glare.

She was grinning at him. “I’m willing to volunteer my body to help you perfect your skills.”

Again he relaxed. She always put him at ease. “I thought I’d already perfected them.”

“I’d definitely give you an A,” she said.

He chuckled. She could stroke his ego all day; he never tired of it.

“But with a little extra credit, you could get an A-plus.”

“Extra credit, huh? How much work are we talking about? I’m satisfied with an A.” He cocked his head at her and licked pancake syrup off his thumb.

“I wouldn’t want to tell you what to do and stifle your creativity, Mr. Silverton, but seeing as I didn’t bother to put on any panties this morning, it wouldn’t take much effort on your part to get into them.”

He grinned, completely at ease now. How did she do it?

“So how much extra credit would I earn if I bent you over this table and f**ked you from behind?”

“I couldn’t say until I saw the quality of your work.”

He moved swiftly. Her naughty teacher act already had his c**k straining against his swim trunks. He pulled her from her chair and pushed her face down on the table. He lifted her shirt up over her ass and sought the heat between her legs with his fingers. She was as turned on as he was. He yanked his swim trunks down to his knees and rubbed his cockhead against her opening.

Fuck, he needed to get a condom out of his bedroom. He couldn’t just plunge into her unprotected, no matter how much he wanted to.

“Hold that thought,” he said.

She grabbed his wrist before he could move away and stuffed a condom into his hand. The little minx had planned this all along. Unlike him, she thought ahead. And he loved that she knew how to get what she wanted. He quickly applied the condom and then filled her with one deep thrust.

She rocked back to meet his thrusts. “Take me, Jacob.”

His balls clenched at the sound of his name on her lips.

“Jacob.”

The doorbell rang.

Amanda tensed. “Who could that be?”

Shade thrust harder, trying to regain her attention. “Don’t know, don’t care.” He rotated his hips. Amanda moaned and relaxed against the table.

The doorbell rang again and then someone pounded on the door.

“Jacob, get the door,” Amanda pleaded.

“I’m in the middle of something.”

“Yeah, me. Now go answer the door.”

“Bossy damned woman,” he grumbled and pulled out with a wince of protest.

The doorbell rang several times in rapid succession.

“This better be f**king important,” he grumbled as he stripped off the condom, pulled his swim trunks up and tucked his stiff-as-a-board c**k inside them.

“If it’s not, I’m going to kick someone’s ass,” Amanda said as she pulled his shirt down to cover her beguiling ass.

Damn, she looked good in that shirt.

More pounding. Shade stomped off to see who dared interrupt his attempts to earn extra credit with Amanda against the kitchen table.

Shade opened the door to Adam. Should have known he’d be responsible for Shade’s discomfort.

“This better be an emergency,” Shade said.