90. Chapter 90
“I love it when you do that.”
Jase watched Lindsey pull off her helmet and flip her hair back. She’d ridden with her hand in his lap during the short ride from the club to the motel. There was probably an imprint of his zipper along the length of his erection Lindsey would feel once he got inside her.
His dick was ribbed for her pleasure. He almost laughed and would’ve told her, but he’d rather show her instead. Because he could. Because she was finally letting him.
He didn’t wait to kiss her. Helmet in one hand, he fisted her dress with the other and set his mouth on her.
It felt so fucking good to kiss her, to touch her without punishment.
He was hungry for her lips and tongue, wanted to taste them for a few hours then feel them tasting every inch of him, taking every inch that he’d tried so hard not to think about giving her when they were in the car and he couldn’t actually reach across the seat and slide his hand up her dress to see if she was as wet as he was hard.
They stumbled away from the bike in the general direction of the motel room. He reached for the key in his pocket and fumbled with the lock.
“Hurry,” she urged.
“I’m trying,” he grunted. “This goddamn lock.”
It probably wasn’t the lock, but the hand on his ass cheek, and the woman wearing his leather jacket who wanted to fuck him.
The knob finally turned, and he spun her into the dark room.
Both motorcycle helmets clattered to the floor.
He took her face in his hands and kissed her properly, kicking the door shut with the toe of his boot.
Lindsey kissed him back like she was parched after spending the last four days in the desert and was finally able to take a drink.
“You have no idea how much I wanted this,” he said against her mouth.
How many miles he’d pretended to be asleep to keep from staring at her bare legs, or that the first night he slept in the car, after she kissed him, he’d jacked off twice to her taste in his mouth, imagining all the things he would’ve done to her inside her tent if millions of dollars weren’t at stake.
Jase worked his jacket over her shoulders, trapping her arms at her sides. She had no idea the restraint he’d needed not to knock out the asshole at the club who thought he was taking Lindsey home tonight.
“You know how fucking hard it is, Lindsey?” he asked. Lindsey. Her name was one he’d never forget in the dark.
She slid a hand down the front of his pants and squeezed. “This?”
Fuck yes. He pushed her back against the wall. “Watching you with other men.”
As soon as Jase released her arms and his jacket fell to the floor, she climbed up his body and Jase finally got his hands up her dress, his palms sliding over her thighs to the soft, bare flesh of her ass.
“At the concert?” Lindsey asked.
He wasn’t thinking about Lake Havasu. The memory of seeing another man’s hands on her was worse than some asshole buying her a drink.
“That should’ve been me.” He ground his hips into her, locking her between his erection and the wall. “I should’ve been the one dancing with you.”
“I thought you were.”
He froze.
“Why did you think I was so upset seeing you with someone else?” she asked.
“I thought—”
Fucking hell.
He’d thought all the wrong things. Jase kissed her the way he should’ve done in Lake Havasu City, the way he’d wanted to since the first time his lips touched her mouth outside the bar in Austin.
Austin, Christ. Two kids roughhousing on a queen bed. Tonight Jase wanted to raze. To feel her, to use her every way he’d been forced to imagine when he wasn’t allowed to touch her, to light up every square inch of her body until she apologized to every square inch of his for keeping them apart.
“When you saw me with Declan—”
“Don’t say his name right now,” Jase said, sinking his teeth into her neck.
She moaned and ignored the warning. “What did it make you want to do?”
Was she playing with him? Baiting him? If she wasn’t careful, she’d release a beast.
And the barely-contained beast said, “I wanted to rip that fucking asshole’s fucking throat out.”
He didn’t mean for it to come out snarling, but he was seeing red remembering Declan pawing at the leather outfit she wore in Lake Havasu, as if the goddamn Brit had a right to touch her.
Her pulse quickened on his tongue. Did Sundress get off on making him feral? He reached between them to find out.
“He didn’t get to do this, did he?”
Jase curled two fingers around her thong and slid them easily inside her. Slick confirmation that she’d been waiting for this too.
Jesus fuck. She needed this. Not to be fucked, but to be fucked right.
Lindsey needed a man to wring her out until she had nothing left and collapsed, fully sated.
He’d given it his best effort in Austin.
After four rounds he’d felt like a stallion, but when Jase had fallen asleep at four in the morning, there was still a glint in her eyes that begged for a fifth if she hadn’t completely wrung the come out of him.
“He didn’t get to fuck you with his hands,” Jase said, pumping his fingers in and out of her with a savagery that set her bottom lip trembling. Her head thumped back against the wall. “He doesn’t know how fucking good you feel.”
Her hips ground into him and her breath quickened to frantic huffs. It was a marvel, her responsiveness to him, and it wouldn’t take more than a few more seconds to make her come on his hand. Not yet. Not until she felt the full force of his frustration, his need.
“Or his dick.”
Jase set her down and they tore his jeans down to his knees.
Immediately her hand closed around his swollen dick and for a beat that’s where he existed.
A man solely in her hand, a beast both tamed and unleashed by her slow pull down his shaft.
She wrung a bead of moisture from his tip and sank to her knees to catch it on her tongue.
The flick of her tongue through his seam sent an unexpected jolt through his hips that pushed his dick into her mouth.
She hadn’t—Christ, she hadn’t used her mouth on him in Austin.
His brother was a fucking idiot. Jase was an idiot for even thinking about his brother—or any other man that came before him—while Lindsey sucked him to the back of her throat.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen.
He’d imagined looking down at the top of Lindsey’s head, her eyes closed like they were now while she took him deeper, but in all his fantasies he never lost control.
He might’ve gripped her cheeks and set the pace but he damn sure always had enough restraint not to blow his load five seconds after she got started.
He braced himself on the wall that he had every intention of taking her up against and grit his teeth as if the pain of a cracked molar would keep more than a few drops from exploding out of him before he was ready.
A three million dollar mantra wasn’t going to stop his dick now that it was in her mouth.
Then she moaned—she fucking moaned—and the vibration on his swollen shaft sent him to his knees.
He didn’t hit the floor, thank Christ, and played it off like he meant to slip out of her mouth with a wet pop. There was only one place he wanted to feel release tonight.
He reached back up her dress and wrapped the top edge of her thong around his fingers.
“Hope this isn’t your favorite.”
He ripped the strip of fabric on one side, then the other, and pulled it out from between her thighs.
“It is now,” she said.
Mine too, he thought, shoving the wet scrap of lace into his pocket and kissing her again. She gasped into his mouth when he lifted her and set her down on his rock-solid length.
The moment she closed around him, Jase broke the kiss. He needed a beat or several to just feel her.
“Jase,” she breathed.
His name. She was saying his name while his dick was inside her.
It wasn’t a cry of pain at the fullness, but relief—the same relief Jase felt being fully seated, her hot, wet walls swallowing him up.
A shared finally they took a few beats to breathe through.
Then her eyes darkened with a look he recognized on any woman that said talking wasn’t what I had in mind, THIS is what I wanted.
And Jase would give it to her. Christ, he would give her everything she was willing to take.
Tightening his hands on her hips, he slowly began to drive into her.
Lindsey’s eyes fluttered and mouth fell open, accepting the full length of him.
She wasn’t panting now. Her breaths were in time with his thrusts as if drawing him deeper with every inhale, her body emptying when he pulled out, and filling again.
Watching him through her eyelashes, she asked, “What about tonight? When you found me at the club?”
This offense was fresher, and he slammed himself into her. Her eyebrows pinched and he thought it was too hard, but she didn’t ask him to stop. Just gritted her teeth and asked, “How did it make you feel?”
How did it feel to see her with another man? To chase her? To almost lose her?
He wasn’t going to tell her. He was going to show her. Lindsey wasn’t leaving that motel room unless she was limp and dizzy. Until the soreness between her legs would serve as a warning that he wouldn’t watch her with another man ever again.
Jase carried her off the wall and set her on the bed.
“You want to know what you do to me?” he demanded.
She nodded. He pulled out of her and stood to step out of his jeans, socks, and boots.
Lindsey waited on her back, her hair splayed and wild, legs wide open to him.
Waiting for him. Days of punishment and denial, now complete submission.
Her pussy was literally weeping for Jase to touch it, and if his erection wasn’t too rigid to prolong what he’d needed for days, he would’ve dropped to his knees and spent the next few hours with his head between her legs, using his tongue in one of the many ways he regretted not doing in Austin.
Later. Because there would be a later. He’d make damn sure of it this time.
Now, he took her flats off one at a time—if she’d been wearing heels, he would’ve left them on because how sexy would that have been—and turned her over onto her stomach.
If there was one sight more beautiful than Lindsey on her back, it was her perfect ass in the air. The things he was going to do…
“You want to know what it does to me every time you run off with some asshole after you told me I couldn’t touch you?”
“Yes,” she said into the comforter.
He took her hips and lifted her ass a little higher. It wasn’t enough to take her in a shitty motel tonight. Jase wanted to make her pay for making him promise this would never happen again. Jase angled his tip at her entrance. “You really want to know?”
“Please,” she cried.
And he plunged inside. Her head snapped back with a moan, and he could just see her fingers clutching the bedspread in the red glow from the Vacancy sign out the window.
“It makes me fucking crazy, Lindsey.” With a firm grip on her hips, he pulled all the way out and drove back in. “You were never leaving with him tonight.”
“I didn’t. Want him,” she managed, her words punctuated by thrusts as he settled into a grueling rhythm.
“The. Fuck. You. Didn’t.”
“Or Declan.”
“Then what were you fucking doing?”
“I was. Angry.”
“Why?” He bit back the orgasm that was on the edge of flooding his entire system, and ground out, “Lindsey.”
Panting at his mercy, she worked out her confession: “Because I couldn’t have you.”
There.
Finally, the fucking truth. One he might’ve guessed while she was prancing around in leather outfits and offering to share her tent.
And Jase let the beast go wild. The roar that escaped his lungs as he spilled into her was almost inhuman.
He didn’t expect her to follow, as if she’d been holding herself back too, but the scream scraped from her lungs would’ve shattered glass if it hadn’t been muffled by the mattress.
If they were at a classier place, one not accustomed to the kinds of noises they were going to make tonight, there would’ve been a knock at the door and another hotel manager asking them to leave.
“That’s…” he croaked, his dick twitching within her throbbing walls. “That’s what you do to me, Lindsey.”
Like a beast, he’d spilled every last drop inside of her—
Shit. He spilled every last drop inside of her.
Jase pulled out his still-twitching dick and drew his finger through the seed dripping from her.
They’d forgotten protection. He wasn’t worried about STDs—the only man she’d been with in the last year was his brother, which he didn’t want to think about, and Jase was usually pretty good about bagging it—but the last thing he wanted was—
“Linds?”
“It’s okay, I’m on birth control,” she said, as if reading his mind.
“Good.” He rubbed the slickness on his fingers down his already slick shaft. “Good. Because I wasn’t done.”