Chapter 36
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
JACE
I always thought you looked like mine, but you sure do fucking feel like you’re mine, too.
Mariana Zapata, Wait for It
T he steam from the shower was hot, but Polly’s tongue on my cock as she blew my ever-loving mind in the shower was the hottest experience of my life.
She ran her tongue up the underside of my dick, fisting the rest in her sexy as fuck grip, then sucked the tip, making me curse again.
I’d been cursing a lot.
I had to brace myself with one hand on the shower wall as I held onto the shower door handle. This was going to be over far sooner than I wanted it to be.
Her wet lashes clung together, making her green eyes pop as she looked up at me. Her look was teasing, as she gripped me, killing me inch by damn inch, as she slowly stroked me up and down.
“Does it feel good when I squeeze your cock like this?” she purred, squeezing me with perfect firmness.
I groaned. Because, yes, it felt really fucking good.
“Is this how you like it?” It was a simple enough question. But her voice was sultry, like smoke and desire and everything I learned to fear in church.
I cursed. Because, yes, I really fucking liked it.
We’d made out in Polly’s bathroom as we waited for the shower to warm up. Her sitting on the counter as I explored the feel of her soft curves under my hands, her heels digging into my ass. Sex with Polly was on a whole different level. I can’t lie and say the lessons I learned from those romance books didn’t help me, because I used every trick in my arsenal.
We laughed as I slipped stepping into the shower. We held on to each other as we took turns washing one another, taking our time, paying attention to every new sensitive spot we discovered. When I got to my knees to pay special attention to that bundle of nerves between her legs, she came on my tongue, again.
After that, I stood as she, eyes playful, slowly sunk to her knees and gripped my cock, asking “Is this what you want?” I’d only blinked, not sure she was real. Because fuck if her dirty talk didn’t turn me on. The fact that she even did dirty talk was mind-blowing enough. She then went about tormenting me in the best possible way, alternating between little sucks and licks, steady strokes, and dirty words.
I loved that she took charge. And she seemed to like it just as much.
“Do you want my tongue again?”
I nodded yes to her question—so eagerly I was surprised my teeth didn’t rattle. And then, a memory flickered in my mind, of a shower scene kind of like this. Could she be acting out a scene from a book? Was I really this lucky?
She sucked me further into her warm, wet mouth as she held on to my hips. Her vibrant green eyes flashed, looking up at me as she took all of me, not stopping until her nose made contact with the skin at the base of my dick. She shocked me as her clever little hand slid from my hip to where she gently, perfectly, held the Vargas jewels. An intense surge of pressure shot to the base of my spine; my groan was so loud, the shower’s glass doors shook.
I gave her the signal to stop and she popped off immediately. Wild with desire and a filthy idea, I pulled her to her feet and spun her around. Her hands hit the shower wall in front of her as I grabbed her hips and sunk into her wet heat from behind.
Our mutual cries of pleasure echoed off the shower walls.
“Jace!” she cried as I leaned forward, panting into her neck, thrusting again and again.
Her hands stayed braced on the wall as I brought one of my hands down to stroke her clit. My other arm slid up her belly to where my fist lined up just below her breast, hugging her to me.
“I’m not letting you out of here until you come on my cock, one, more, time,” I grunted, accentuating my words with each thrust of my hips.
Polly was panting. “I don’t know . . . if I can . . . again.”
Opening my palm, I slid up to cup her breast, lightly pinching her nipple as my other hand continued the firm strokes at her center.
“Come for me, darlin’,” I breathed into her ear, “I’m waiting for you.”
It wasn’t until I felt her clamping around my cock that I finally gave into my own pleasure, shuddering and shaking, barely able to hold Polly upright as I followed her release with my own.
Eventually, Polly turned in my arms, our fingers threading together at our sides. Our lips met in a soft, breathless kiss. But this was Polly, and I couldn’t help myself from licking at the seam of her lips, begging entry. She pushed against my hands, moving back.
“Hold on, cowboy. I know you’re twenty-four and can probably go for days, but I need a minute to rest.”
Laughing, I pulled her into my arms, my hands smoothing down her body to stroke her butt, squeezing both globes in my palms.
“That sounds like a fun challenge.”
Lazing her palms down my back, she chuckled. “We have a few more hours. Let’s dry off, eat a donut, then do it again.”
I barked a laugh. “I like where your head’s at.”
* * *
“Why are all these donuts squished?” Polly asked, looking sexy as hell in a tank top and shorts, hair all wavy from air-drying, as she rummaged in the Daisy’s bag in her kitchen.
“You crushed them against your chest when you came in, remember?” I murmured into her neck, my lips brushing against the top of her shoulder. Now that I was finally allowed to touch her, I couldn’t keep my hands off her. I nipped at the base of her ear, then licked the skin there. Her head fell back against my shoulder, and I grinned, loving how crazy that spot made her.
Polly turned in my arms, bringing her arms around my neck. “I can’t be blamed for my actions when I find someone lurking silently in my kitchen.”
“Honestly I’m just glad you didn’t throw the bag at my balls again.”
Polly playfully swatted me on the shoulder then turned to rummage through the bag again. I stepped to the side and leaned against the island countertop on my hip, my hand automatically coming to rest on the small of her back.
“You want to pick your own donut? I have chocolate, vanilla, and jelly filled.”
It was hard to focus on anything but Polly’s swollen lips, remembering what they were wrapped aroundago not a half hour ago. “You pick,” I said, voice strained. “Though I’m not too keen on the jelly ones.”
Polly looked like she was hiding a smile as she put one chocolate and one vanilla donut onto the plates in front of her.
“What’s that look for?”
She shrugged as she picked up the plates and headed to the table. “Your word choices surprise me sometimes. What twenty-four-year-old uses the word keen?”
“The best ones.”
Polly chuckled in response, and I pulled out her chair for her.
“Nah,” I said, sitting beside her. “It’s probably because I have older parents. I was raised differently than my friends. I didn’t have a cell phone until I was sixteen and wasn’t allowed to have social media until high school, not that I used it much anyway.”
“Were your parents’ strict?” Polly asked, picking up her chocolate donut and taking a large bite, but not before putting a paper napkin on her lap.
“Nothing like yours. They had high expectations for how we all did in school, always telling us that we needed to do our best. They haven’t always been happy with the path I’ve chosen since high school, probably wishing I’d chosen one that ended with a college degree and full-time job with benefits, but I still feel loved by them.”
Polly swallowed and wiped her mouth on her napkin. “If you’re making good money, what’s the problem? Is it just the stability that a college degree can give you? A college degree isn’t always synonymous with making a lot of money.”
“Where were you when I needed you all these years?” I shook my head. “It’s the stability, I think. My momma’s a worrier. I think me having a degree would help her worry less.”
“So, if you were, say, a teacher. Would they be happy with that even if you didn’t make a lot of money?”
“Are you a mind reader, Miss Polly Alberton?”
Polly picked up her donut. “No. Why? Is teaching something you’ve thought about?”
I looked down at the table, wiping at an imaginary smudge. “Yes, actually. I’ve always liked working with kids. They’re mindful. Optimistic. The way they see the world is simpler, somehow. I like the idea of working with middle schoolers, which is a time when they’re just starting to lose that. I’d like to help them hold onto that a little longer. I’d like to help them see their potential, believing in them even if no one else does. I’d probably make less money than I do now, but that’s not why I’d be going into teaching in the first place. And now with my parents moving to Florida, I wouldn’t have to stay close to help out as much.”
The last thing I said put a cute little furrow in her brow. I brushed my lips against it to smooth it out.
“Is money the reason you never pursued teaching? Or because you wanted to help your parents?”
“I’ve never been keen,” I laid into the word playfully, making Polly roll her eyes, "on wasting money on a degree until I was sure about what I wanted to do with my life. As for my folks, while I don’t look at them as a burden, I guess I was hesitating, not wanting to commit to a college program, wondering what might happen if I wasn’t around to help take care of them. I don’t think they’ll get the same support with Kent down in Florida. But, they’re looking at a condo, so maybe it’ll be alright. No need for a live-in maintenance man.” I pointed at myself.
Eyes soft, Polly stroked my cheek. “You’re a good son, you know that?”
I leaned into her touch. Her fingers were a little rough, providing a kind of friction against my skin that felt unreal.
I turned slowly in my chair and leaned into her space. “I think we’ve had enough conversation for a while, don’t you?”
Polly’s eyes dropped to my groin, then back up to me, eyebrows lifting in silent question. I let a slow grin spread over my face, grabbing her hand and bringing it to Big Sir, who was making a valiant comeback. Her eyes went wide and I chuckled, letting a little of the devil into my voice as I rasped, “Darlin’, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”