Chapter 18 #3
He’s smooth as he reaches behind my thighs, his bare hands making my whole body hum with electricity as he lifts me in the air to wrap my legs around his waist. “Where are we going?” I mumble against Jack’s mouth, and he silences me with another kiss as I’m vaguely aware of him moving for the bedroom at the end of the hall, fumbling with the door handle until it’s just us in his room alone, surrounded by the echoing noise of the party below.
“Too many people,” he says, flipping on a lamp before taking a seat on his bed, keeping me in his lap.
“I don’t always mind an audience, but I wanted you to take what you need without getting in your head,” Jack says, but I can barely think as he pulls aside the collar of my shirt to kiss my collarbone.
Did he just say he likes to be watched? The idea of someone watching me and Jack in the hallway sends a thrill through me as his talented mouth licks and sucks at my skin.
“And what do you think I need?” I ask, shifting in his lap to find the same pressure to apply to my clit.
My hands drag over the rippling muscles of his shoulders, his skin hot underneath my touch.
Fuck, I like how it feels to have his mouth on me.
Jack lifts his head to look at me, a playful smirk forming. “Do you trust me?” he asks, and as unbelievable as everything else tonight has been, this might take the cake.
“I do,” I say, my voice husky, and Jack’s hands squeeze my ass one more time before moving to the front of my shorts.
“Stand up, Alondra.”
“Why?” I ask, my heart kicking into overdrive when he unfastens the button and pulls down the zipper.
“Because I think you need to come, and you’re going to do it riding my thigh just like you tried to do in the hallway,” Jack says, and I rock my hips against his bulge, loving how his jaw flexes. “Now are you going to argue, or are you going to let me feel how wet your pussy is?”
My legs are definitely shaking as I untangle myself, but I sure am glad I picked a pair of lace underwear tonight.
I kick off the red boots, to let the denim fall as Jack watches me.
“Put the boots back on?” Jack asks, and it makes me laugh, giving me something else to focus on besides how exposed I feel right now.
“You got a thing for boots?” I tease, stepping back into them.
Jack smiles, motioning for me to come back to him.
“I’ve got a thing for seeing you in them apparently.
” The second I’m within reach, his hands fall on my hips, toying with the lace material.
“Goddamn,” he mutters, pulling me down to sit on his thigh, the fabric of his shorts having ridden up so I’m seated on his bare thigh, and I bite my lip, trying to hold back another moan at the feeling.
I lean forward to cup his face in my hands, kissing him again as he molds my body like putty, encouraging my hips to move the way I need them to.
He groans into my mouth, and I drag my thumb over the stubble lining his jaw, grabbing his shoulder with my other for leverage to rock my hips, feeling the wetness soaking my underwear.
The pressure continues building in my body as Jack’s sinful mouth devours me, helping to work me toward the edge as I ride his thigh. I gasp, breaking our kiss, digging my fingertips into his shoulder.
“That’s it, darlin’. Use me however you need to,” Jack coaxes, encouraging me to continue. “Your pretty pussy is dripping, making such a fucking mess on me,” he says, and I never thought dirty talk would be something I was into until now.
“Jack,” I say his name, but it sounds more like another moan.
My breath is coming out in short pants as I work myself closer to the edge, and almost like Jack can read my mind, he moves his hand to press his thumb on my clit through the lace.
“Oh my god.” I arch as he swirls slow circles, short-circuiting my brain as I tip over the edge, my body shattering into a hundred little pieces.
He combs his fingers through my hair, peppering little kisses along my brow.
“You’re beautiful, Alondra,” Jack repeats as I try to grasp control of my sensibility again.
I didn’t think it could be like this with someone.
It certainly wasn’t like this with Bradley, but it’s more than a little relieving to know my body is capable of responding to another person.
That the pieces of myself are capable of being whole again with the right person.
“So are you,” I say, and he laughs, smiling at me with an ease and a familiarity I’m beginning to crave.
I hate how used to Jack I’m getting, especially at night knowing he’s on the other side of my door, camping out in our living room in case my crazy ex-boyfriend shows up in the middle of the night.
Stop thinking, Al.
I slide my hands from his neck down his chest, but he catches my wrists, stopping me on my path.
“What are you doing?” I ask, just as Jack lifts them, pressing a kiss to my pulse in each one, and it’d be easy to get used to being treated with such care after being shown the opposite of what can happen.
“I’m okay. Let’s get you cleaned up,” he says, and I look down between us, a hoarse laugh escaping me.
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure there’s hard evidence proving you’re not okay.” Why doesn’t he want me to touch him?
“It’ll get the message soon,” he says, helping me up. “This wasn’t about both of us. It was about you needing to take back control of that part of your life, and I get it. Happy to help, but I’m okay, really,” Jack says, giving me a tight smile.
“Did I do something wrong? Were you not into this?” I ask, trying not to spiral, but it’s really hard not to.
Jack brushes a stray curl back behind my ear, his touch gentle and sure. “Al, you were perfect. I’m into this, but I don’t want you to feel like you owe me anything. I want to say yes, but I’m really okay.”
I let his words digest in my head, and as much as I’m confused, I also understand where Jack’s coming from. “And this doesn’t change anything?” I ask, needing to hear him say it again.
“Not a single thing,” Jack says, and I step away, moving toward the bathroom attached to his room. “We’re still best friends.”
I raise an eyebrow, wondering when the hell that became our label. “Since when are we besties?”
“You can deny it all you want, Al, but we’re totally besties. You should hurry before our friends start to wonder where we’ve disappeared to,” he says, chuckling softly to himself.
I roll my eyes, but he has a point. If we’re gone for too long, it will raise all sorts of questions I’m not sure I want to have the answers to.