Chapter Sixteen
Gabby
I let out a whimper of distress when the alarm wakes me up at four thirty the next morning. “Oh my God.”
Jonathan’s hoarse chuckle sounds next to my ear, and he presses a kiss to my bare shoulder, his naked legs tangling with mine. “Don’t start with that this morning. We don’t have time for me to make you say that my favorite way.”
He turns on the bedside lamp, and I throw my arm over my face to block out the light. “Why do we have to get up at this ungodly hour again?”
The sheets rustle as Jonathan moves around, then I feel his lips on the forearm covering my eyes. “I have a spot on a radio show. And I have to get all pretty beforehand.”
“But why? It’s a radio show. No one will see you,” I whine. “And why do I have to get up this early?”
His hand slides over my arm, gently nudging it out of the way. He presses a soft kiss to my lips. “Because I asked if you’d come with me, and you said yes.”
I make a face at him. “That’s not fair. You asked me right after sex. You know I’ll agree to anything after you make me come that many times.”
He lets out another low chuckle and gives a shrug. “Not my fault that you’re so agreeable after sex. And when else was I supposed to ask you? We were a little busy before that.”
“Ha ha.” I sit up and run my hands through my hair. “But seriously, will there be time for a nap later? Because three hours of sleep is not enough for me.”
Standing, his morning wood juts out in front of him, drawing my attention.
“Keep licking your lips like that, and I’ll drag you into the shower with me.”
My eyes find his at the wicked promise and almost threatening tone of his voice. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
Before I can blink, he throws the blankets off me and scoops me into his arms. “In that case, here we go.”
He carries me into the bathroom with the walk-in shower and dual shower heads. Since I was joining him here, he sprung for the junior suite instead of a standard room like he normally gets. The bathroom is enormous and luxurious, a far cry from the little closet of a bathroom with a tiny shower I share with Lauren in the dorm.
The granite of the counter is cold under my bare ass and thighs as he sets me down between the double sinks. He kisses me, stepping between my thighs, his hands sliding up the outside of my legs. I cup his cheeks with my hands, not ready to let him go when he pulls back.
But he pulls back anyway, my favorite sexy smile gracing his lips. “Let me start the shower. Hang on.”
He tweaks one of my nipples as he steps back, leaving me gasping in surprise and arousal. It doesn’t take long for him to turn on the shower and adjust the temperature, and he’s back, his mouth on mine again, his hands sliding around to grip my ass. My arms go to his neck, hanging on as he lifts me from the counter, my legs automatically circling his hips.
“I can walk, you know,” I mutter against his lips. He delves his tongue back into my mouth, carrying me into the shower, pressing me against the wall, the stone cold against my back, him hot and hard in every way against my front. His hips thrust, dragging the underside of his cock against where I’m slick and ready for him. But he doesn’t line up and push inside me.
Instead, he lets me slowly slide down till my feet touch the floor. Then he guides one foot up onto a ledge in the corner a couple feet off the ground that I didn’t realize was there. His fingers trail back up my thigh, massaging me, finding and stroking my clit, sinking inside me. I gasp again, my head pressing back against the wall, my hands tightening convulsively on his shoulders as the water from the shower pelts us from both sides.
His hands never leave my body as he kneels on the ground between my spread legs, placing soft, reverent kisses on my belly, hips, and thighs, licking up the water droplets, tracing the paths they follow with his tongue.
Threading my fingers into his hair, I try to direct him where I want him, but he resists, teasing me with his tongue along the juncture of hip and thigh. “Please, please, please,” I beg. You’d think after making me come three times last night, I wouldn’t be so desperate for the feel of his tongue on me, but I am. I’m always ready for him to lick me when he starts teasing me like this.
He gives in, the flat of his tongue starting at my opening and drawing up over my clit, slow and lazy. He does it again, lapping at me over and over until my hips push against his mouth, trying to get him to focus on my clit more.
When he chuckles in response, I tighten my grip on his hair. “I thought you said we didn’t have that much time.”
“That’s true.” He stops teasing me and sets to work in earnest, pumping his fingers inside me, his tongue drawing circles on my clit. He ramps me up quickly, tapping on my G-spot, and when he sucks on my clit, scrubbing over it with his tongue, I explode with a cry that echoes through the stone bathroom.
He brings me down from my orgasm with soft strokes and kisses, supporting me until my knees firm up again, wiping the water from his face and slicking his hair back with a hand as he stands up.
Wasting no time, I grip him by his hips and reverse our positions, pushing him against the wall and dropping to my knees.
His eyes widen. “Gabby, we really don’t—“
My mouth on the head of his cock cuts him off, turning whatever he was going to say into a wordless moan. I don’t tease him like he teased me. I know we don’t have time for that, much as I’d like to get a little revenge. Instead I pump him with my fist, sucking on the head, my tongue running around the underside, finding the sensitive spot that makes him shudder when I focus there.
Soon he’s panting, “Stop, Gabby. Jesus Christ, you have to stop.”
I pull back but don’t release him. I know why he wants me to stop, but I also know I didn’t see a tell-tale little foil packet. “Did you hide a condom somewhere and forget to tell me?”
He clenches when I let the fingers of the hand cupping his balls trail back toward his buttocks. But the dirty look he’s trying to give me is ruined by the grin tugging at his lips. “No. And if I were going to hide a condom anywhere, you think I’d choose there?”
Before answering, I slide my lips around the head of his cock again. “Hm-mm.”
His eyes close, and his head falls back against the wall as the sound vibrates along his length, my hand working again, my head bobbing in time with it. Even though our little conversational interlude would’ve backed him away from the edge, I know he was about to blow before he stopped me. It won’t take long to get him there again.
In almost no time, his legs are trembling, the muscles of his thighs standing out in high relief. His fingers slide into my hair, pushing the damp strands away from my face, but he gives himself over to my rhythm. He lets out a long, wordless moan, and he grows even larger and harder in my mouth, just before a jet of hot, salty fluid explodes on my tongue. I swallow, keeping my head still, using my hand to finish him off until he tightens his grip in my hair, pulling his hips back.
“Good, that’s good. Enough. God, I can’t take anymore.”
At his breathless words, I release him, running my hands up his legs until he captures one, using it to draw me to my feet. One arm wraps around me, pulling me hard against him, his other hand tilting my chin up so he can kiss me.
“Thank you.”
I smile up at him. “Anytime. And thank you.”
He lets out a low chuckle and pulls me under the spray of the shower. “Now, we need to hurry, or we’re going to be late.”
We aren’t late, but only because Colt comes banging on Jonathan’s door ten minutes before we need to leave, chiding us to hurry up. He also has coffee and protein bars for both of us. I wrinkle my nose at the paltry excuse for breakfast, but Jonathan laughs and kisses my nose. “We’ll get real food after the radio show. I promise.”
Ripping open the package and taking a bite, I glare at him. “You better,” I say around the mouthful of dried fruit and nuts surrounding a nougatey center. It’s surprisingly okay.
I must’ve made some expression betraying my reaction, because Jonathan chuckles as he opens his own protein bar. “Not bad, right?”
“I usually have a store-brand granola bar on my way to theory first thing in the morning. This isn’t too much different, I guess. And I get coffee.” Picking my cup up off the table, I raise it to Colt, who gives me a friendly grin.
“My mom always keeps those bars around the house for snacks or something quick to grab when you don’t have time for a real meal. We’re both used to them by now.”
Eyebrows raised, I look from Colt to Jonathan, who’s keeping his face studiously turned away as he grabs his jacket and slides his feet into his sneakers. His designer jeans and faded T-shirt give him a laid-back vibe, his hair in that messy-sexy style that he took at least ten minutes to get just right after our shower.
Based on Jonathan’s reaction, I take it that their mom isn’t a welcome topic of conversation. Which is fine with me. She’s not on my list of favorite people either.
Colt’s attention is focused on his brother, waiting for Jonathan to say something, but he maintains his silence like a shield.
I clear my throat. “Well, thanks for bringing the bars. And the coffee. I was wondering what we’d do for breakfast. I don’t think I’d make it through the radio show without some kind of sustenance.”
Glancing my way, Colt shrugs. “Sure. No problem. That’s why they pay me the big bucks.”
Jonathan gives him a dark look. “Ha. I pay you more than you’d make doing some crappy job back home, so save it.”
Colt lifts his hands in surrender, then glances at the phone he’s holding. “If we’re going to be on time, we need to go now. Ready?” Without waiting for a response, he heads for the door, obviously expecting us to follow.
Before we do, though, Jonathan grips my arms and gives me a swift, hard kiss. When he pulls back, his green eyes hold mine, his stare equal parts happy and intense. “Thank you for coming this weekend.”
I smile back. “Of course. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
His mouth opens like he wants to say something else. But he closes it and nods, threading his fingers through mine and pulling me out the door with him.