Chapter 6
JON
Iggy stood and grabbed my hand, nearly tipping the table. Without sparing a glance at the diners around us or the poor servers who would have to deal with our aborted meal, he dragged me down the narrow corridor back to our train car.
Once he’d yanked me through the door to my suite, which was fractionally closer, he shoved me against the closed door. “Tell me this is real. Tell me you truly want this.”
Before I could say yes, fuck yes, he added, “Tell me you’re not going to have regrets,” in a broken voice.
Emotion vibrated off him. Fear, concern… love.
Iggy didn’t lie. He didn’t change his mind when it came to the things that mattered most in his life. If he said he’d been months without sex, he had been. And if he said I had his heart…
I brought my hands up to caress the sides of his face. “I have been in love with you since you were nineteen years old. I would say eighteen, but I actually hated you a little at first. You were a spoiled brat with a big mouth.”
Iggy’s laugh sounded like a sob. “You still think that about me.”
“True.” I smirked. “But when you turned nineteen, you finally had the body of a man to make me forget.”
He lunged forward then, crushing my mouth with his. I made an embarrassing sound, the kind someone makes after two decades of wanting something he couldn’t have.
The kiss was every-fucking-thing. Power and raw hunger, tenderness and delicate care, and jaw-dropping love in every single breath.
His lips were firm and warm, and he tasted of crisp gin and lime. I wanted more of it. I wanted to sip at his lips and swallow entire moments of this.
My hands gripped the front of his dinner jacket, the fabric smooth and familiar against my fingers. How many times had I fantasized about this while smoothing his lapels?
“Don’t hurt me,” I croaked against his mouth.
Iggy pulled away, suddenly worried he was physically harming me. It took only a glance at my face before he realized what I’d meant.
“Hurting you would be like cutting out my own fucking heart, Jon. Don’t you know how much I love you? How I want to spend my life with you? How I want to make you happy?”
The words washed over me then, clearing away the last of my fear. I wanted him as much as he seemed to want me. So what the hell was I waiting for?
I lurched awkwardly toward him, intent on another searing kiss. The noise he let out as our lips came together again was feral, like an animal finally released from a cage.
His body was a coiled spring, but his touch was tender and reverent. The way his thumbs skimmed my jaw, his nose brushed my cheek, his knee gently nudged my legs apart so he could get closer.
The cold wood of the door against my back had turned warm. The dim lighting was soft and intimate. The slight movement under our feet felt exotic and a little wild. We were somewhere in the sub-Saharan night, alone together on the brink of a new adventure.
Our best adventure.
As his hands moved, sliding my jacket off my shoulders, I realized I was the happiest I’d ever been. Finally, we were here together without the job between us. We could be equals. Partners.
Lovers.
For once, I pulled off his jacket without a single care for where it ended up. I yanked his shirt out of his trousers and shoved my hands underneath, relishing in the feel of his hot skin.
“Want you so much,” I admitted into the side of his face.
“Thank fuck,” he said on a laughing exhale. “I’m scared to death of disappointing you.”
“The infamous playboy is afraid of letting me down in the sack?” I teased.
“I’ve never made love before.”
Iggy had the ability to stop my breath. I stared at him while my brain slotted so many details into place. The careless attitude toward sex. The lack of serious relationships. The many times he’d only half-teased about wanting to be with me.
I’d never taken it seriously.
Until now.
“I love you,” I said, surprising myself as much as I’d surprised him. But it was the raw truth, and I no longer wanted to deny it, deny him. “And I’m sorry I didn’t believe you at first. I wanted it too badly to believe it could be real.”
Iggy’s eyes filled with tears that didn’t spill. “I’ve waited my whole life to hear those words from you,” he whispered.
I moved him toward the bed and lowered him onto the crisp, white bedding before taking my time removing every single piece of his clothing.
I’d done this for him a million times, but this time was so different. Every touch held twenty years of unspoken affection and a lifetime of love to come.
When he was finally fully naked, I began undressing myself slowly so I could watch the heat smolder in his eyes.
He was hard, cock jutting up thick and long. I could finally take the time to stare, to imagine the feel of it inside me… my mouth, my throat, my ass. I wanted him everywhere.
“Come here,” he begged. His cheeks and neck were as red as his cock, and his eyes were undeniably hungry.
After I’d removed the last of my clothing, I crawled onto the bed from the bottom, dropping open-mouthed kisses inside his ankle, his knee, his thigh.
When I was close enough for Iggy’s hands to reach into my hair, he took great delight in messing it up. “I’ve fantasized about holding your hair and choking you with my cock,” he said in a voice rough with desire. “Messing up your perfectly styled hair and coming all over your fucking face.”
To punish him for putting that hot image in my head, I nosed his sac before running the flat of my tongue up his shaft.
“Fucking fuck, Banks. Fuck.”
I took the head of his cock in my mouth and held it there, inhaling the musky scent of him and tasting the salty warmth of his precum.
Two could play at this game.
I pulled off him and dropped too-light kisses up his belly to his nipples before propping myself above him and lowering my voice to a sultry slide.
“I’ve fantasized about you shoving me up against the fitting room mirror at Drake’s and fucking me raw, your hand clamped tight over my mouth to keep me from shouting out your name for everyone to hear. ”
His eyes flitted back as if all the oxygen in his brain had been depleted, but his hands banded more tightly around my back to hold me close.
Iggy took a deep breath before flipping me over onto my back in one quick move. His hard cock ground against my inner thigh like a promise. “Do you want me to fuck you, Jon?” The words were a tease, a continuation of the game.
Rhetorical.
We both knew how it would be between us.
One of the reasons we’d worked together in our roles for so long was because I was a natural submissive to him, and he thrived on dominating me.
I would do anything for him, and he’d always made sure I’d wanted for nothing, that I was cared for and safe.
Even when he’d thought that meant pulling away from me.
Our eyes locked together, and a million words flowed between us in the quiet room. The sound of our shallow breaths, the hard ragged thumping of two hearts on fire, and the silent begging of men who had so much to lose and everything to gain.
Iggy’s mouth dropped to my collarbone, the tip of his tongue sliding against my skin until I forgot to breathe.
He continued down my chest, sucking on each nipple before nipping them and moving down more.
When he finally took my dick in his mouth, I tried to memorize the sight of it.
Of his full lips stretched wide around my cock.
Of his tongue laving eagerly and his hands still trying to roam everywhere.
Within moments, he’d pushed my thighs up over his shoulders and moved his mouth down until his hot tongue was circling my hole and sending my heart rate into the stratosphere.
“Oh god,” I groaned, cursing and thrashing as my most tender skin felt the soft abrasion of his tongue and then the harsher abrasion of his stubbled chin.
After a few minutes of sucking and licking, he brought his fingers up to stretch me out until I was out of my mind with pleasure, with need, with stark desperation for release.
“Not yet,” he murmured against me. “Not yet.”
“Iggy,” I begged, reaching down to try and yank at his hair.
He pinned me with his honey-flecked eyes. “Not. Yet.”
I arched backward on the bed and squeezed the base of my dick.
I was nothing if not obedient.