Chapter Nineteen
JENNA
“Stay really fucking still.”
Because Tommy couldn’t wait to get me into his bedroom, I’m sitting on his white marble island, my lower half completely naked and exposed.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I ask when his hand disappears between my thighs.
All he does is smirk, and I roll my eyes.
“If you aren’t going to tell me, then I’m not sticking around to find out.” I go to slide off the island.
Tommy’s jaw tics, one hand moving from the counter next to me and resting on the top of my thigh. Thick, dark hair falls over his deep brown eyes, and even if I still wanted to, moving is no longer an option.
I’m paralyzed by this man. That, and too fucking stupid to walk away when I know all he can give me is a night filled with orgasms, coupled with the heavy weight of regret the next morning.
I take the opportunity to study his bare chest and tattoos more carefully as he stands in front of me, wearing only a pair of black boxer briefs that hug his perfect hockey thighs.
There’s still a hint of bourbon on his breath, but given the size of this guy, it doesn’t surprise me that he’s back in control of his senses. That, combined with the thirty-minute Uber ride we took in silence.
As Tommy’s lips ghost over mine, it’s not lost on me that we’ve never kissed, although I’ve thought multiple times that he was going to.
“What do you want me to do, Jenna?” he asks, so fucking sure of himself that it makes me sick.
I look up into his eyes. We’re nose to nose.
“I’d like you to do anything because right now, I’m really fucking bored.”
His lips tip into a wicked smile, leaving me in no doubt that he’s right in his element and I’m right where he wants me.
“Before you interrupted me, I was going to finger your pussy. But given that all that leaves your mouth is bullshit I can’t stand, I’m thinking I’ll stuff my cock in it and give us all a fucking rest.”
My breathing is ragged, my words barely a whisper. “Is that what you did with the blonde chick? You silenced her with your dick?”
He’s already told me that she never touched his dick. Still, I’m not about to let what he did go. He doesn’t get any free passes from me.
Tommy brings his hand from between my thighs to play with my hair. He hasn’t touched my pussy even though it contracts like I’m on my third climax.
He wraps a piece of my hair around his tattooed finger, and I swallow hard, wondering what’s going to leave his mouth next.
“How many times do I need to tell you that she didn’t suck my dick?” He tugs on the strand, pulling my head to one side and exposing my neck. He ghosts his lips over my soft skin. It’s a possessive move, and I hate myself for loving it. “How did it feel, Jenna? Thinking I was with another girl.”
I know what he’s referring to—that day in Rise Up, when I casually disclosed my one-night stand from the night before.
“I felt nothing,” I lie.
“Final chance before I fill this bullshitting mouth.”
My lips tingle with anticipation. I’ve never been especially bothered about giving a guy head, but I know going down on Tommy will be good.
“All I felt was hatred and not an ounce of anything else,” I lie again.
He drops my hair and finds the waistband of his boxers, pushing them to the floor in a single motion. I’m the perfect height to be entered.
“So, if I pushed inside another woman like this”—with one hand around his thick shaft, Tommy eases himself inside me—“you wouldn’t give a fuck that it wasn’t you?”
Lost for words, I shake my head, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes in response to the way he stretches me out.
I forgot how big he actually was.
When I look down between us, the tattoo scribed around his dick disappears completely, and then he’s seated all the way inside.
He doesn’t move, and neither do I.
“Why the fuck can’t I get you out of my life?” Tommy eventually speaks.
It’s the first real show of vulnerability I’ve witnessed. There have been fleeting moments, where I saw softness or hurt in his eyes, but these are the first words he’s spoken outside of his usual hardened character.
“I think this might be the first thing we agree on,” I reply, just as Tommy makes his first stroke inside me. “I never want to see you again after this.”
He glides into me again, and goose bumps break out down my spine.
“At least not until the next time we fuck, Jenna.”
I shake my head, deep pressure already building inside me. “I hate it each time you enter me.”
Tommy’s hands come to the V-neck on the sweater I’m still wearing. In one motion, he tears the material clean apart.
I’d ask him what the hell I’m supposed to wear home if I cared enough.
His eyes fall to the lacy black bra I’m wearing, the dark color a complete contrast to my flushed skin. “We fuck because we’re the same person, you and I.”
That’s the craziest statement I’ve ever heard, and the sarcastic laugh that emanates from my chest reflects my thoughts.
“We are,” he continues, taking a single finger into his mouth and then offering it over to me.
Like the weak-willed woman I am, I open my mouth and swirl my tongue around it, tasting what it would be like to kiss him.
“You’re a wild child, Jenna Miller. You’ve also been through some shit—I can tell.”
He’s too close to me, in body and mind.
Pulling away, I brace my palms behind me and open my legs wider. “Just get on with it and fuck me, Tommy. I thought twenty-three-year-old boys were full of energy.”
“Twenty-four,” he corrects, leaning over me and running his tongue up my sternum, stopping when he reaches my pulse point.
He’s fucking me with such purpose, with languid strokes that have my pussy gripping him tight. How the guy hasn’t already blown inside me, I’ll never know.
“How did you celebrate your birthday?” I ask, fighting the urge to scream his name and give him the satisfaction.
The smile that tips up his lips is nothing short of devilish. “Like this—by fucking the girl I’ve been lusting after for longer than she deserves.”
Wrapping a strong arm around my back, Tommy pulls my body back into his and then proceeds to fuck me hard and fast, his skin glowing with a thin sheen of perspiration that’s hot as fuck.
“It’s your birthday today?”
“Not anymore, and stop talking, Jenna,” he demands. “I want you to come all over my cock, not ask me a thousand questions.”
I double down. “Happy belated birthday, asswipe.”
Tommy immediately grinds to a halt. “What did you call me?”
In a condescending manner, I reach up and cup the side of his cheek. I meant for it to be anything but intimate, but the way his eyes fall to my lips leaves me questioning, once again, if we’ll kiss.
“I’m not going to kiss you,” I say. “Don’t fucking panic.”
His attention hasn’t left my mouth.
He runs his thumb along my lower lip, pressing it into my teeth. While it doesn’t hurt, it’s definitely an action typical of Tommy.
“Do you kiss guys when you go home with them?” he asks, reverting back to fucking me at a slow, torturous pace.
“No. But sometimes, I’m left with no choice.”
When his hand wraps around my throat, fire burns in his eyes. I’m certain he’s pissed at me, and I’m not afraid to acknowledge a seed of fear as it takes root.
“You’re telling me the last time a guy kissed you, it was without your consent?”
I swallow and feel the column of my throat pressing against his palm.
“Don’t get all high and mighty. Did you forget the times you burst into my apartment and hotel room?”
Something akin to regret forms on his features.
Or maybe that’s just wishful thinking on my part.
“You might think of me as an asshole, Jenna. For what it’s worth, I already know I am. What I’m not though is abusive. I’ve known cruel people, and I’ll never be like them.”
I could scoff and remind him of his behavior on the ice, although we both know this conversation has nothing to do with hockey.
“So, let’s agree on a safe word since we both know you like to be punished, and I need to know how far I can push this body.” He brings his finger to my temple, a little like I did in the bar. “I’m betting it’s stronger than you think.”
Tommy quickens his strokes, squeezing his hand around my throat with each motion. “When your pussy is burning from my thrusts, say the word cobra, and I’ll know to go easy.”
I’m an experienced woman when it comes to the bedroom, but even I know that I should be running for the hills right now. I’ve never done anything like this before, and it should intimidate the fuck out of me. If this were happening with any other guy, I’d freak out.
Instead, my body trembles with anticipation.
Tommy tightens his grip around my throat. “I know you love this because it’s what I love, and I know you want to play because I’m desperate to start the game.” He thrusts into me harder. “Tell me it’s what you want. Blink once if you do.”
For the briefest moment, I’m motionless. And then I blink, my response automatic, almost like my subconscious demanded it.
The chiseled god standing between my legs doesn’t breathe another word, his face stoic and focused when he takes my pussy way deeper than ever before.
I thought he’d fucked my brains out in my apartment. I was wrong.
With each thrust, he punishes me like I know he’s been desperate to do. He fucks like he hates me but handles my body with the perfect balance of respect.
Is this guy really twenty-four, or is he lying to the world?
“Is your cunt burning yet, Hellion?” he grits out, perspiration now dripping down his skin. “Or do you want some more?”
“More.” My single plea ignites a fire in his eyes as he hauls me into his arms and marches us into his bedroom.
I barely get a chance to take in my surroundings when I’m launched onto his bed, bouncing once and releasing a squeal.
“Ass up and on your hands and knees,” he demands.
I’m tempted to argue back in the same way I did the first time we fucked.
Only now, I know what he wants to do, and—much to my surprise—I want to get my ass pounded.