Chapter Twenty-Three
Gabby
After lunch, Jonathan takes me on his favorite roller coaster.
“Please don’t take me on any more rides like that. I can’t handle it. I almost lost my lunch on that one.”
He laughs at me as I clutch my stomach and blow out my cheeks, pulling me in close and kissing me. “We can’t have that,” he says softly against my lips. “I have plans for you after we’re done here.”
The heat in his eyes sparks a matching fire between my legs. “Oh, do you? What kinds of plans?”
He lifts his head and scans the area as he sucks in a breath, then focuses on me again, his gaze a tangible thing as it burns over my face, down to my body, and back again. “The kinds of plans that I can’t detail in an amusement park full of little kids and children’s characters.”
My hand slides up his chest and wraps around his neck. “Hmm. Well, maybe we should go back to your place and get started on those plans.”
His smile turns wicked, but he doesn’t move. “What about our day at Disney?”
Lifting one shoulder in a coy shrug, I press into him more. “We couldn’t get to everything in one day even if we tried. I’ve seen the most important parts. I’m good. If we really want to, we can come back another time.”
His eyes dart back and forth between mine, and then without warning, he steps back, tugging me along behind him, almost dragging me to the exit.
I laugh, stumbling the first few steps in surprise before I manage to catch up. “What’s the rush? It’s not like we didn’t have these same plans yesterday or the day before. Or the day before that.”
He drags me around to the side of a building and backs me up against it, a low growl in his throat. He shuts me up by kissing me hard, his tongue sweeping into my mouth. This is the first time he’s kissed me like this all day. He looked like he wanted to ravish me this morning, but only kissed me once before we left the apartment. And all our kisses here have been tame, chaste. This kiss is barely restrained hunger, his lips mastering mine, his tongue seeking out all the corners of my mouth, one hand holding my head in place, the other crushing my body to his.
When he pulls back, his gaze is even more scorching than before. He lowers his face to mine, and I think he’s going to kiss me again. Instead, he slides his cheek against mine. His teeth nip at my earlobe and cause me to shiver. Then he whispers, “We almost didn’t make it here at all today. There were a few minutes, when you were getting dressed, that I considered throwing you on the bed and keeping you there all day.” His tongue traces the contour of my ear, and I melt a little more, my hips pressing into him of their own accord. “Yes, we’ve had time together. But it’s stolen moments when we’re both tired after a long day of work and practice and rehearsals and meetings. We haven’t had a day just for us. Just for me to take my time exploring you.” His fingers tighten in my hair. “We’re leaving. And we’re turning off our phones until tomorrow. I’m tired of interruptions and outside pressures limiting my time with you. For tonight, you’re mine. And only mine.”
“Yes.” The affirmation comes out on a sigh. Not that I’d ever protest the plan he’s just outlined, but the knowledge that I’m only here for a few more weeks makes every interruption, every reminder of the outside world that much more irritating.
When he steps back, he shoves one hand in his pocket, adjusting himself while his body is still angled away from the main park. With his mouth set and eyes blazing, he looks me over, seems satisfied with what he sees, then threads his fingers through mine again and leads me toward the exit. His pace is still quick, but I don’t have to practically run to catch up anymore.
The walk to the car seems to take forever, and we don’t say anything on the way there, limiting ourselves to exchanging heated glances. I know he’s holding himself in check, not letting himself touch me anywhere but my hand, because I’m doing the same thing. My skin feels too tight, too hot, too sensitive. And the only thing that will soothe this ache is his hands all over me, his mouth, his tongue, the feel of him moving inside me, over me, under me. Any way I can get him. But we can’t do that here.
When we get to the car, Jonathan opens my door. Before he shuts it, he leans down and devours my mouth again. But he tears himself away when he starts to lean into the car more, pushing me back like he’s trying to get me horizontal right here and now. He gives me a look and says, “You’re far too tempting for your own good. That’s always been the problem with you.”
“What?”
His eyes run over my face and down my body. “I couldn’t stay away from you. Even when I thought I should. You’re intoxicating. You’re everything.” His eyes find mine again, still full of heat and promise, but also love.
A new kind of warmth fills me at his words, running along with the heat of desire. That’s the same thing he said in the song he wrote for me when I broke up with him. The song that brought me back. Before I can respond, he shuts my door, almost jogging around the front to his own door. He gives me another heated look before starting the car and putting it in reverse.
He holds himself apart from me in the elevator from the parking garage up to his apartment, his hands stuffed in his pockets, but he eyes me like I’m his favorite meal.
I return his stare, just as ready to rip his clothes off and feel every inch of him. And I don’t have to wait much longer. We go straight to his floor, the elevator not having to stop for anyone. His plan of no interruptions is going well so far already. We both turned off our phones in the car before we got out.
The elevator dings at our floor, the doors sliding open. Jonathan lets me out first, but is right on my heels as we head to his door, his keys already in hand. There’s no fumbling, no hesitation, just the smooth slide of the key in the lock, a quick turn, and we’re spilling into the entryway as he kicks the door closed behind us.
His hands immediately go to the hem of my tank top, and I lift my arms for him to whip it off over my head. My bra comes off next, and his hands are on my breasts, his fingers tweaking my nipples as his mouth dominates mine, the restrained hunger from earlier now unleashed. He backs me farther into the apartment as my hands feel for the button and zipper of his shorts. Fumbling, it takes longer than I’d like to get them undone, and I make a sound of frustration.
He chuckles against my skin, his lips and tongue and teeth blazing a trail down my neck and shoulder. He gasps when I dive my hand into his boxers under the shorts now hanging loosely on his hips, his cock hot and hard in my hand. I give him a squeeze and start to stroke him slowly, hampered by all the clothes he still has on. Too many clothes.
My legs bump against something soft, then Jonathan sweeps me up and deposits me on his couch, his fingers now undoing my shorts and stripping them and my panties off together.
Propping myself up on one arm, I reach for his shorts and tug them down. “I’m already naked. You have on too many clothes.”
Without a word, he strips off his shirt and kicks off the shorts and boxers I’ve already pulled down to his knees. Before I can touch him again, his lips surround one of my nipples, tugging and sucking and feeling fantastic. My fingers thread through his hair, holding him in place as I arch up, needing more. More of this. More of him. More of everything.
“Oh my God.” I’m barely aware of saying anything, but Jonathan releases my nipple, now wet and shiny and hard from his mouth, grinning at me.
“I love when you start with the oh my Gods. It means I’m doing something right.”
His fingers slide into my center, and my legs spread open as my hips lift, seeking more contact. “You’re doing everything right. Oh my God.”
He watches me as he works me with his hand, and my own hands slide to my breasts. I need more sensation, more touching, so I tug on my own nipples, my eyelids sliding closed as I do it.
“That’s so fucking hot. Do it again.”
I open my eyes, meeting his overheated gaze, and do what he asks, gasping as I tug on my nipples again.
Then his free hand is moving one of mine out of the way, so his mouth can take over again as his fingers work in and out of me, his thumb sliding over my clit.
I’m starting to get close, but not close enough when he stops. I whimper out a protest, but he just gives me his wicked grin again and kisses me on the mouth. “Don’t worry. You know I never leave you hanging.”
He moves my leg to the side, and his tongue parts me, sliding its way up my center, the wet heat soothing and stoking the ache between my legs. “Keep playing with your nipples,” he breathes against my skin.
I do, pressing myself further onto his mouth. His tongue slides inside me, in and out a few times, up to my clit, circling, flicking. Then his lips close on my clit, sucking, his tongue scrubbing over it, and I pinch my nipples harder.
“Oh my God!”
He grins against me, my body going limp for a second at the lack of stimulation. His fingers slide inside me, twisting around, curling up, and his tongue circles my clit again. When his lips surround that tiny, hypersensitive piece of me once more, it’s too much. With another tug on my own nipples, I convulse in ecstasy, his tongue and his fingers prolonging the electric pulses firing through my body, making it last longer than I ever thought possible.
When he finally pulls away, he stands and leans over me, wiping his mouth quickly with his hand, and giving me a hard kiss. “I would love nothing more than to watch you come every day, multiple times a day.”
I reach out and grip his shaft, pulling him closer to me, giving the head a quick lick. “Ditto,” I whisper, my breath fanning over the head of his dick, and he shivers, letting out a low groan.
“All the condoms are in my bedroom. Let me go get one.”
I give him another squeeze, another lick. “What if I don’t want to?”
He groans again when I take the head into my mouth, giving it a hard suck and running my tongue along the underside.
“God, Gabby. Do you want me to come in your mouth?”
I give him a cheeky grin and another lick, this time a long one up the underside of his shaft from his balls to the head. “Maybe.”
He makes another sound, this one a cross between pain and pleasure. “I want to feel you around me, coming again when I come. I don’t want your mouth right now.”
But he makes no move to stop me when I suck him again. “You sure?”
Growling, he steps back, and I let him go, watching the muscles in his ass as he walks to his bedroom, a wide smile on my face. He disappears for a few seconds, then reappears, his erection bobbing in front of him as he walks back to the couch, condom packet in hand. He uses his teeth to tear off the edge.
I snag it from his hand and roll it on before he can, relishing the feel of him and the sounds he makes when I touch him.
Then he’s on me, pushing me back down on the couch with his mouth on mine. His hands slide along my thighs as he settles between them. There’s no teasing, no hesitation. He spreads me open and pushes in, his pelvis meeting mine on the first thrust. I arch, gasping in pleasure at the sudden fullness. My legs wrap around his waist as he settles over me, his weight on his arms, and I return his kiss. His hips piston hard and fast, rubbing against me where I’m still super sensitive from my earlier orgasm. My earlier teasing seems to have put him past his desire for play. Normally we move together, especially in the beginning, but right now it’s all I can do to hold on, clinging to his hips and shoulders.
He rips his mouth from mine, his mouth coming to my ear. When he takes my earlobe between his teeth, I arch and shiver some more, writhing against him, my nipples rubbing against his hard chest. Pushing up to his knees, he sits back, his hands going to my hips, holding me in place while he continues to pound into me. His eyes on mine are molten. His long, skilled fingers slide around where we’re joined, his thumb running over my clit.
“Come on, Gabby,” he grinds out. “I told you I want to feel you coming with me. I need you to get there.” He keeps talking, telling me how good I feel, how sexy he thinks I am, and his words do as much as his fingers to get me there. His words wash over me, stream of consciousness from him, sparking my own responses, but I’m not even aware of what I’m saying.
He thrusts hard and lets out a grunt. “I can feel that. I feel you tightening around me. You’re getting close, aren’t you?”
“Yes. Oh God, yes.”
His thumb presses harder, moving faster, the fingers of his other hand digging into my hip. “Your nipples, Gabby. Pinch them again. Just like before.”
I let go of my hold on the couch cushions and do what he says. That extra pinch of sensation is all it takes to send me flying for a second time. He leans over me again, his hips jerking, losing their rhythm as he growls and grunts and shudders, coming hard right along with me.
He collapses on top of me, and my arms go around him, clutching his body to mine, not ready to give up the feel of his skin, the way we fit together.
Not yet.