17. Ashley
17
ASHLEY
T he smell of bacon cooking woke me up. I was in a daze for a minute wondering where I was, but it all came rushing back to me. The angry call from Sam, the drunken call with Jack, the sex… It was incredible, and lying in his arms all night felt right, like I belonged here. For a moment, I just lay in bed enjoying the idea that I was in Jack Stewart's bed while he made me breakfast. That I had slept over and he hadn't shied away from it as being the next step in a relationship.
I yawned and stretched and pushed myself up to a sitting position. My phone wasn't on the nightstand plugged in the way it would have been had I been at home. In fact, I didn't remember where it was at all. Jack practically attacked me at the door the instant he opened it. For all I knew, my phone and keys were on the floor somewhere or tangled in these sheets.
My feet just touched the carpet as I sat up and draped my legs over the side of the bed. If I wasn't mistaken, I thought I heard Jack humming or singing while he cooked. It made me smile to picture him happily making me breakfast. I slipped out of bed and used the toilet, then found my panties. But instead of getting dressed, I opened his drawers until I found his T-shirts and put one of them on—an old concert souvenir shirt of what I could only assume was his favorite band.
Then I tiptoed into the living room and watched across the open concept space. He stood with his back to me and a spatula in hand, crooning out an old love song which played softly from an unknown source. He was shirtless, mimicking holding a microphone and swaying his hips. He was genuinely happy, and it made me feel giddy. I wanted to absorb it for a second, imagining this being my normal Saturday wakeup with him at my side and us happily married. I didn’t know if that would ever be a reality, but imagining it filled my heart.
When I finally snuck up behind him and wrapped my arms around him, joining him in singing, he never skipped a beat. He sang louder, holding my hands to his stomach as he got to the climax of the song where the singer confessed his undying love, and I felt it to my core. Then Jack turned around and set the spatula down and wrapped his arms around me and kissed me.
"Mmm, good morning." I kissed him back, relishing the attention he was paying me.
"How did you sleep?" Jack's tender affection in the form of light kisses and touches comforted me. They told me that he really did want something more. If it was just sex, he'd never be doing this. Breakfast, maybe, but it would be sterile and cold and served up without the petting and show of affection.
"I slept like a queen." I looked at the stove where he had four skillets going at once. Piles of pancakes and waffles sat on plates next to the range top, while bacon and sausage cooked alongside eggs and hashbrowns. There was enough food here for ten people, as if he'd made a little of everything because he didn't know what I'd want. How sweet.
"Good," he said, kissing my forehead. "I hope you had good dreams too."
That little kiss, the forehead kiss, it meant nothing for him—he got nothing out of it. That was for only me. And it was a bit confusing. If Jack really didn't have time for a relationship or want a family, he had a funny way of showing it.
"You made a feast." I nodded at the food piled high as he turned off the burners one by one and started scooping the greasy bacon out of the skillet onto empty plates on the counter.
"I wasn't sure what you'd want. I knew you weren't feeling well."
Jack hadn't shied away from kissing me, either, which meant he really did care about me even when he thought I was sick. I was worth sharing the germs. Either he had feelings for me or he was taking this promise to my father to a whole new level. I rested my hand on his back and watched him for a second, then turned to find a spot to sit, and he grabbed me by the elbow.
"Now hold on a second." He grinned and smirked at me, then pulled me against his body. "All this is for you. I want something else for breakfast."
I chuckled and asked, "You expect me to eat all this food myself?"
"You can have what you want and I can take the rest to the men's shelter later this afternoon."
His pelvis pressed against mine, and his hips swayed back and forth in a slow motion. I asked, "And what are you going to eat?" When his lips descended on mine again, I realized very quickly what he wanted to eat. I moaned into his mouth and braced myself on his shoulders as he backed me toward the opposite countertop. Then I used my hands on the counter to help as he hoisted me upward and continued kissing me.
"You're breakfast," he mumbled before nibbling along my neck toward my collarbone. He had the shirt off me and onto the floor at his feet in seconds.
The chill of the air conditioning made my nipples hard, but it was the way he yanked my panties off aggressively as his stubble scraped along my thighs that made me aroused so much that my core ached.
"Wow," he said, muffled against my thigh. "You're so wet already." He wrapped his arms around my thighs and pulled me toward the edge where my legs dangled, then forced my knees apart. "Let me play with my food first, though, okay?"
He teased me mercilessly, circling my clit then backing off before moving up to suckle on each nipple. His free hand explored my body, caressing me everywhere but where I needed him the most.
I hissed when his thumb rubbed over my clit but sucked in a breath when his lips found it and pinched it. The ache grew within me, and I whimpered, begging him to stop or not stop. I couldn't decide. His tongue lapped at me, and I couldn't help arching my back trying to get him to do more, but he was teasing me. When I couldn't take any more, I grabbed his head to force him against my hot valley and he indulged me by pushing two fingers into my soaking slit.
Jack’s sucking and thrusting drove me wild, hotter than the food he had just cooked for me. My pussy clenched around his fingers and I pulled his hair. “Deeper,” I moaned, and he listened, pushing as deep as he could.
The orgasm sparked like fireworks behind my eyes as my body arched violently, my nails digging into his scalp. I could barely breathe as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through me. Leaning on his head for support, I hunched forward as twitches and spasms racked my torso. I almost slid off the counter, but he held me fast. And when he was done and my body was calming, he stood and rubbed his hard length through his sweatpants.
“Oh, God, Jack,” I panted, seeing my panties and shirt on the floor next to him. He grinned at me, but as he opened his mouth to respond, the doorbell rang. He looked confused for a second and then his eyebrows rose. "Forget it and get your dick out. I want you inside me," I mewled, reaching for him, but I saw the panic flit across his face.
"Your dad."
"What?" I asked, now really confused. He pulled me off the counter, and I stood there with weak knees as he explained.
"I had a tee time forty minutes ago. I totally forgot. Christ! Go.” Jack shooed me, and I didn't think twice. I rushed toward his bedroom where my clothes were and my heart raced as fast as I did.
If Dad walked in and saw me naked in Jack's kitchen, there would be no hiding the truth, no forgiveness for the lie.