Fraternizing with Friends #5
His other hand crept beneath her tank top, the curve of her breast filling his palm.
He kissed her down the side of her neck as he slowly dragged the thin material up her chest. Taking one swollen nipple into his mouth, he teased it between his teeth and tongue.
Her hand was sliding down his chest and again he caught it before it reached its destination.
Her touch pushed him from zero to sixty in a matter of seconds and he was doing his best to avoid it.
“Tyler.” It was breathless scolding.
She was becoming edgy. That was Jordan. Always in the fast lane, chasing a deadline, racing to the finish line.
He’d given into that yesterday, but today was Sunday, the day of rest. There was no need to rush.
He wanted to take his time exploring every inch of her.
His mouth moved to her other breast, his hands continuing their slow torture, and she was losing control.
She grasped his hair and lifted his head, bringing a stop to everything. “Are you trying to drive me crazy?”
“That was the plan.”
He used a playful tone, but these interruptions were beginning to bug him.
Using both hands, he slid the tank top further up and she lifted slightly off the table as he took it over her head.
Her arms went up, stretching over the edge of the table, and he took it down to her wrists.
He did everything at a snail’s pace and annoyance flickered in her eyes.
It was strange. Both of them were in the heat of the moment and yet they were both a little irritated.
It gave a new meaning to the term hot and bothered.
An inevitable obstacle. When two people came together, they had to learn how to fit, each one had to learn the other’s needs.
And when those two people were as incompatible as they were, the learning process proved to be a little more challenging.
It was a clash of two opposing personalities.
One passive, one aggressive, but both dominant.
At the moment she was fighting to get her way and today was one of the very few times he wasn’t going to give in to her feistiness.
“Do you have any emotional attachment to this table?” he asked.
She giggled. “You’re so weird.”
“Answer the question.”
“No. I do not.”
“Good,” he said, twisting the tank top tight around her wrists. He grabbed the knife on the edge, stabbing it clean through the material and into the side of the table.
Confusion wrinkled her eyebrows. “What are you doing?”
“Those hands were starting to bother me.”
She tried to tug her wrists free, but he got that knife in pretty good. Her eyes narrowed with vexation and he couldn’t stop a smile.
“You best wipe that sexy grin off your face, Tyler. I might think you’re enjoying this.”
“I am.”
He kissed her, slow at first but she became more demanding. Even with her hands restrained, she still managed to suck him into her impatient hunger. For a moment he almost lost control. She used that kiss as a weapon and having no other defense, he pulled away.
A smug smile played on her lips. She knew the hold she had on him and she proved it so easily. “Kiss me again,” she said. “I dare ya.”
She was always playing these games and that was a taunt he would not take lightly.
She didn’t specify where and he decided to start with her neck, placing open-mouth kisses on her soft skin.
Her breath hitched and her breasts pushed up against him.
He grasped her ankles and hooked her bare feet up on the table as his tongue traced over her stomach.
He reached the juncture of her thighs, spreading them wider as he looked up at her.
Heated blue eyes locked on his and they were still shooting daggers at him.
“Moan for me, Jordan,” was all he said before he dipped his head between her legs.
With the first flick of his tongue he got what he asked for.
Soft, restrained, but still a moan which only grew louder as he pulled her tender flesh into his mouth.
His hands got involved on their own accord, his fingers pushing deep inside her.
Rocking her hips, she urged him to pick up the pace again.
Once more, he denied her, pinning her hips down as his mouth and hand continued their unhurried assault.
Her back arched off the table and she became more desperate with every languid stroke of his tongue.
“Tyler, I swear to God…if you don’t fuck me right now—”
“Language,” he said, looking up at her with a smirk. “And you’re not exactly in the position to be giving me orders, Roman.”
She didn’t like that one bit. He wasn’t sure if it was the pet name or her being on the losing side of a game she created. Either way, he didn’t care. His mouth moved back to her clit, working in the same rhythm of his hand.
“Please, Tyler…”
He shut his eyes and ears to those words.
A woman should never beg, but at that very moment, he chose to ignore her.
Every moan and desperate plea weakened him and he couldn’t hold off much longer.
He heard the change in her breathing, felt her tightening around his fingers and when she came, she came hard.
Every muscle in her body tensed. He didn’t wait for it to subside.
He couldn’t wait. He removed his hand and slid into her wet heat.
A few seconds of adjustment were needed and both of them eased into that sensation with soft, heated breaths.
Being inside Jordan was ineffably better without the slight numbing effects of alcohol.
She was so tight and the aftermath of her orgasm was an electric throb that pushed him to breaking point.
He gripped the edge of the table to keep it steady, his other arm hooked behind her knee to allow for deeper penetration and then he began to thrust; long, hard strokes that extracted every kind of oh from her mouth.
“Oh, fuck…oh, God…oh, Tyler…”
Imperfect Jordan in ecstasy – the sexiest sight in the world.
He glanced down, watching her breasts bounce as he moved in and out of her. Her hips shifted in time with his, taking him in deep and slow.
“Kiss me,” she whispered.
He was dying to kiss her, dying to take possession of those lips again, but he knew exactly what that kiss would entail and he still wasn’t ready to give in to her impatience. What he wanted was to maintain this pace, savor every second of being inside her. Yet that didn’t last long.
Somehow this minx managed to free her hands and the rage in her eyes told him he was in trouble.
The knife clattered as it hit the floor and it was like a wild animal had been unleashed.
She threw herself at him with so much force, he spun around to absorb the impact and slammed her into the fridge.
Harsh, livid breaths warmed his skin, her long legs coiling around him tighter than a boa constrictor.
“You mad?” he teased, his mouth straining to hold back a smile and that only pissed her off even more.
She raked her hands through his hair and gripped his lower lip between her teeth, biting hard enough to let him know it was punishment. “You’ve had your fun,” she said breathlessly. “Now fuck me.”
Well, she asked so nicely.
How could he refuse?
He gave her what she wanted, how she wanted it.
He made her scream and cry out his name.
He pushed her body to the limit, to the point where her breasts were tender from his touch, her legs were numb and aching, her lips were bruised and swollen.
And even then he didn’t stop. He did this because it didn’t matter who won the game, he just wanted to leave his mark on her.
He did this because when he finally had his fill of her, that body knew it was his.
“I definitely need to take the day off tomorrow,” Jordan said as some feeling returned to her appendages. “You are merciless, Mister Evans. When you asked me if I had any hard limits, I should have given it more thought.”
He sat up and ran a hand through his disheveled hair. “You can amend that answer.”
“No way.” She sat up as well and kissed his shoulder. “You can do that to me every day. Besides, it wouldn’t matter anyway. I said no pet names and you didn’t seem to care about that.”
“At least it’s not generic,” he said with an unapologetic smile. His forefinger moved under her chin, urging her forward for another kiss. After a few minutes, he reluctantly pulled away. “I have to get going. Matt and I are going to see my dad today. Sunday ritual.”
He rolled out of bed and walked around the room, picking up the items of clothing they had discarded.
“Same here. My parents call me every Sunday. I have to admit, ever since my mom met you, every call is her giving me advice about how to get a Pisces man.”
He looked at her over his shoulder and smiled that heart-stopping smile. “Well, you can tell her you got him.”
He winked and walked into the bathroom. Although he couldn’t see her, she still pulled a pillow over her head to hide her flushed cheeks because she didn’t even want to admit to herself that his simple words and gestures could have such an effect on her.
After a shower and another quick kiss, he left.
She had another shower, washing off the smell of sex and the last remnants of alcohol.
The warm water did a world of good in helping her muscles unwind.
She had just ended the call with her mother when Gemma came through the door.
“I hope you brought my car back in one piece,” Jordan said as she sat down on the sofa next to her.
“It’s in one piece…after Matt taped the headlight back together,” she admitted sheepishly.
Jordan groaned and shook her head. “You busted my headlight?”
“That street lamp just popped out of nowhere and attacked it.”
“Street lamps are so unpredictable.” She stood up and hobbled to the kitchen on unsteady legs. “Want some coffee?”
Gemma followed her in. “God, you got fucked good last night,” she said, taking note of her rigid movements.
“This morning,” Jordan corrected. “And this afternoon. That man has stamina. I think I orgasmed more in the last ten hours than I did in my entire relationship with douche-face. I shouldn’t have been so eager after such a long time, though. My body is going to be aching for days.”
“You were just catching up,” Gemma said, hopping onto the counter. “Shall I tell you about my night?”
Jordan switched on the kettle and tried not to blush as she sat down on the wooden table.
She was never going to be able to look at it the same way again.
“Gem, you know I love listening to your sex stories, but not with Matt. I have to look at him every day and I don’t want to have those images in my head. ”
“That’s just the thing,” she shouted with exasperation. “Nothing happened! We got to second base and he stopped, switched on Netflix and we just…chilled. Literally! We fell asleep on the sofa, got up this morning and…talked. It was so…”
“Disappointing?”
“No.”
“Weird?”
“No! It was…nice!” She sounded like she was upset with herself. “Guys don’t treat me like that. I threw myself at him and he did nothing. I don’t know…maybe I’m losing my touch.”
Jordan stood up and made them each a cup of coffee. “That’s not it. Sometimes I think we’re around assholes so much, we don’t recognize a good guy.”
Gemma shrugged and smiled with indifference, but Jordan could tell it was affecting her more than she was letting on.
She recognized it because it hadn’t been that long ago when she was there herself, battling to understand how a man could show interest and then not do anything…
interesting. If Matt was anything like Tyler, she almost felt sorry for her bestie.
“That may be true, but the last time I checked, I was irresistible.”
Jordan giggled. “Don’t take it personally, Gem. It’s not you. It’s just the great teachings of Roscoe Evans.”