Chapter 13 Ethan
Ethan
Iwake with Jackson nuzzled against my side, his leg between mine, his hand resting below my collarbone. I’d fallen asleep last night playing with his hair while he talked about Aurora and how he believes she and Reece are fighting, how he thinks Reece is struggling.
I get it. Reece and I share certain similarities. We both believe a man’s role is to protect and provide, and right now, he’s injured, reliant on others. I’d hate it too.
I’m not worried about Reece. He’ll manage, he always does. Even if he’s struggling, he’ll look after our girl, and he’ll let me know if he can’t. Plus, I have the twins. They’ll safeguard what’s mine as if it were their own, and they’re damn good at it.
I’m more worried about the man lying on my chest.
Jesus, I never thought those words would enter my consciousness.
I turn my head and inhale the scent of coconut and citrus. I run my fingers through Jackson’s soft hair, and a highlight reel of him sucking me off last night replays in my mind.
The way he stared up at me, pleading eyes brimming with desperate hunger, as if he wanted to devour every part of me—body, heart, and soul.
The image alone stirs something deep within me.
He’s addictive and unpredictable. I thought being in love with Aurora was scary—Jax is ten times worse. I can’t control him. He can’t control himself. When he’s depressed or on the edge, or when he puts himself in danger to protect us…
Losing him would kill me. If anyone could bring me straight to my knees, it’d be him.
Insecurities invade my mind, and my stomach knots. I don’t think I can give him everything he’s willing to give me—not that I didn’t love every second of last night, because I did.
Nor do I regret it.
Well, most of it.
I regret some shit I let slip. I worry it’ll be awkward between us. I fear he’s in a fragile state, and when things settle, he’ll realize he doesn’t enjoy being dominated by me. Or anything sexual with me, for that matter.
Then, there’s the team and management. I can’t show him the affection and commitment he deserves. I already have to restrain myself publicly with Aurora. Now Jax too, but more so.
Guilt has my breath quickening. What if he grows to resent being a secret? Resents me? I’m only setting him up for destruction, setting us up for failure.
“Stop panicking.” His raspy, sleep-filled tone interrupts my downward spiral. He kisses my aching chest, his hand over my racing heart. “I loved everything.” Another kiss, lower. “I won’t tell a soul.” His lips drift to my stomach. “I love you. I love being with you.”
He dips under the covers, and, once again, my brain battles with my body.
For the moment, my brain triumphs. “Jax.”
He palms my erection over the boxers I put on after showering last night.
“Jax.” I raise my voice.
He ignores me and kisses the head of my cock, an open-mouthed kiss that soaks my boxers, and I jerk, my body begging for more.
“Jax,” I growl and yank his hair.
“What?” He throws the blanket back. “I want it,” he whines.
I lift my brows. “Come here.”
His eyes glint with mischief. “No. I’m busy.”
“Get up here.”
“No.” His stare is an unwavering challenge, a dare.
And I’m so close to caving.
When I say nothing more, he pulls down the waistband of my boxers and runs his tongue up my length, still holding eye contact, still testing me.
I’m tempted to let him have it then punish him by choking him with my dick. “You want me to take control? Is that it?”
“I want you satisfied.”
Confused, I scowl. “I am satisfied.”
He crawls up my body, his cock brushing mine. “No, I want you to be truly satisfied. I want you to come to our hotel room, knowing you have the power to take what you want. No holding back.”
No holding back. Privately.
I trace my thumb over his perfect lips. “I don’t want to hurt you, and I don’t want to lose you.” I can’t look him in the eyes. “I…I don’t think I can give you everything you give me.”
When I risk a glance, his head is cocked, his expression something I’d expect on my own face—irked. He falls to his side, propping up on his elbow, and I miss the weight of him immediately.
He releases an exasperated sigh. “This is really bothering you?”
I clear my throat, garnering the courage to continue. “I almost lost you. I refuse to feel that way again.”
“You won’t lose me. We live together, share the same girl, and sleep in the same bed. People know. We’re just not making it obvious.” He twirls his finger through my chest hair. “And I’m okay with whatever you give me. I told you that.”
“You all but demanded a public commitment.”
“I wanted proof. I needed somewhere to express the feelings I had for you when hugging wasn’t enough. I have that now. You’ve given me that.”
“Promise?” I ask, although I don’t believe him. “You’re not going to get all obsessive and jealous and clingy?”
He glances at the ceiling and taps his lip. “Can we get a yacht?”
He’s deflecting, and I shake my head. “You don’t need a yacht.”
“An endless vacation of sex.” He gestures with a wave. “Just think about all—”
I shut him up with my mouth and tongue. His body returns to mine. He rolls his hips, grinding our erections together, and an icy-hot sensation skitters across my skin.
He breaks away, placing gentle kisses along my jawline. “I want you. I’ll do whatever you say. Now, can you stop ruining my playtime with useless worries? I need my daily dose of Ethan.”
My lips spread into an unrestrained grin, and I forget all about the dark side of Jackson O’Reilly. “You just had me.”
“I want you again…” His teeth graze my throat, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “And again tonight.”
“We’ll be on a plane.”
“Sounds hot. We should get a private jet too. Then I can have you whenever I want.”
Fuck me. He’s going to be my undoing. “You’re insatiable.”
***
Jackson
I was going to take off. I injured him. I put everyone in danger. Reece was shot because of me. Yet, Ethan still worries about hurting or losing me. Me? When he’s the one who should be disgusted and toss me aside.
For that reason alone, I’ll worship him and his impressive body as long as he lets me. I don’t care if he doesn’t repay the favor in the same way. Getting him off is a huge fucking turn-on.
My knees hug his waist, my weight on my forearms, my fingers in his messy hair, and I kiss him. His lips are full, softer than imagined, but his kiss is fierce, possessive. Add the scratch of his beard, and it’s intoxicating. Purely Ethan.
His hands explore me, tracing the contours of my muscles, ribs, and spine. His touch is electrifying. My hips flex, and I thrust my erection along his.
He palms my ass and grinds into me then tugs at my boxers. “Take these off. I want to feel you bare.”
This is something out of a wet dream, and I’m rock-hard and leaking before I’m even naked.
We both strip, our lips meeting in a chaotic tangle of teeth and tongue. We’re two people consumed by love and lust, lost in the fever of wanting one another.
I slide against him, slick with precum, and my breath hitches. I’m not small by any means, but he’s bigger—not by a lot, only proportional to the rest of him, and my dick is curved upward. He’s perfection.
He releases a drawn-out, rumbling groan that vibrates in his chest. “Fuck, you feel good. You’re dripping all over me.”
I’m incapable of speech. In fact, if he keeps talking dirty, I might blow.
He snakes his arm between our bodies and wraps his hand around us both. His fingers and his cock glide along mine, and my legs tremble. My lips part. Apparently, I’m unable to kiss as well.
“Can you come like this, baby?” He strokes our lengths, firm and rough.
“Yes,” I moan and throb in his tight grip.
“Will you still give me that beautiful mouth of yours? Let me come down your throat.”
His praise lights up my veins, and my muscles tense with the need for more—more of his words, more friction, more of him and me.
I roll my hips and meet his strokes. “Hell yeah.”
He does the same, thrusting against me with a rhythm that sends jolts of ecstasy through me, and more wetness slicks between us. Pleasure fogs my mind and leaves me dizzy.
His fingers thread into my hair and tighten. “I fucking love the feel of you. Fuck my fist, baby boy. Come all over my cock before you suck it.” He yanks my head back and sinks his teeth into my collarbone.
“Oh…fuck.” My balls hug my shaft, my vision darkens, and every muscle in my body twitches. I clutch the sheets and lose my breath, jerking in his hand and shooting cum all over his stomach, fingers, and dick.
Eager to please him and still high and tingling from the orgasm, I trail kisses down his chest and abs, tasting myself on his skin.
His stiff cock is covered in my release, and I take a minute to lick it up, my eyes finding his.
Impatient, he fists my hair. “Be a good boy and suck it. Make me come.”
I pull him into my mouth as far as I can. He flexes his hips gently, still hesitating, and bumps the back of my throat. I want him to use me, fuck my mouth, and lose restraint. Being rough and taking power is his love language, his way of showing ownership.
Anything less is indifference.
When his cock is in my mouth, my head is quiet. I’m focused on pleasing him. My anxieties disappear. I’m fulfilled. Every gasp, every moan, every thrust of his hips, every tug of my hair is my reward—I only need to get him there.
He swells, stretching my lips farther, and I withdraw slowly, increasing suction as I go. Aurora does this, and it drives me mad.
“Jax,” he warns.
I glare up at him. “What do you call me when your cock is in my mouth?”
His expression is priceless. It shifts from shock to slight humor to absolutely fucking not. There’s no way in hell he’ll allow me to dominate him, and I’m looking forward to the retribution.
His tone becomes vicious. “Then put it in your fucking mouth, brat.”
I do, but not before giving him a taunting grin.
He cups the back of my head and punches his hips. “Don’t fucking move,” he growls.
I relax my jaw, and he fucks my throat, keeping me right where he wants me—nose to his pelvis. He moans, and I moan around him, my cock starting to rally once again from the desperate sounds he makes.
It’s sloppy, his balls coated in cum and saliva when I massage them.
“Don’t you dare fucking stop.” His precum bursts along my taste buds. “That’s it, baby boy. Fuck, you take me so fucking well.” The last part is a strained groan.
His fingers shake in my hair, he thrusts one last time, and his cock jerks, filling my mouth with cum. I swallow and suck him lazily until he yanks me away, gasping for breath.
“Come here.” He draws me to him and devours my lips, his heart pounding with mine. After a few minutes of kissing and cuddling, he stands from the bed, gloriously naked, his long, glistening cock hanging between his colossal thighs. “You better not be too tired for the game tonight.”
I collapse onto my back, gloriously spent. I haven’t bothered to check the time, but the muted gray light filtering through the sheer curtains suggests it’s early. That, or there’s another snowstorm. We don’t, or I don’t, have to be anywhere until noon. He’ll leave much sooner.
My lips and jaw are sore, and my erection thickens at the sight of him. I flash him a smug smile. Now that I’ve let myself truly see him, I’m obsessed with every inch. “What will you give me if I win tonight, Coach?”
He narrows his eyes, peering down at me with annoyance and a hint of intimidation. He may appear threatening, but I don’t miss how his gaze trails down my body to my hard cock. “What do you want?”
“I want your teeth marks as a tattoo.”