Chapter 3 #2
And God, does he ever. He pushes a thick finger deep inside at the same moment his thumb comes up to my clit and his mouth takes mine in a searing kiss.
It’s pleasure overload, the feeling so intense I can do nothing but moan against his lips.
He thrusts that finger even deeper as his thumb falls into a circular rhythm against my clit.
It’s perfect and I want more at the same time.
The edge of an orgasm is coming toward me at a blinding speed and I’m both desperate to fall into the abyss and also make this last as long as possible.
Then Jonah removes his mouth from mine to capture my nipple between his teeth and I know lasting long will be impossible.
“You’re close already,” he mutters, sounding awed. “Fuck, I can feel you pulsing around my finger. You like this, Ellie?”
“So much,” I sob, my head snapping back, giving in to the urge to arch, to stretch.
“My girl needs more,” he says, pushing a second finger in. Oh, God.
His lips wrap around my nipple, sucking, tongue licking, the contact sending jolts of electricity straight to my center where he continues to stretch me with those long, thick fingers. I’m so, so close.
“Let go for me, Ellie,” he groans against my breast. “Let me feel you.”
The second the words are out of his mouth, I obey. I don’t think I could fight it if I tried. And I don’t want to try. I want to give in to this feeling, this amazing pleasure that Jonah is giving me right now, pleasure like nothing I’ve ever felt before in my life.
So I do. I let the sensations wash over me, my entire body tightening against the onslaught before I come apart in the most perfect release I’ve ever known. He groans low and loud, the sound echoing around the concrete walls of the bathroom, as my core clenches around his fingers.
It’s so very good. Better than good. Unbelievable.
“God, that was perfect,” he gasps, slumping against me, his lips pressing sloppily against my chest. “So perfect, Ellie. Thank you.”
I somehow manage to snort even though I’m basically brainless with pleasure at this point. “You’re thanking me?”
He pulls back, capturing my gaze in his dark eyes. My breath catches at the intensity there, the sincerity. “Fuck yes, I’m thanking you. That orgasm was a goddamn gift.”
“I think I was on the receiving end of that gift.”
Some of the intensity fades, making it a bit easier to breathe, as a smirk tugs on the corners of his lips. “No. Getting to touch you like that makes me the luckiest bastard in this whole damn town.”
I whimper as he pulls his hand from my jeans.
Then he shifts, his erection brushing against my side, and I realize that he’s probably ready for some relief of his own.
I reach down, loving the way he groans when I cup him over his jeans.
But his hand comes down to capture mine, pulling it away. “Not right now, darlin’.”
“Why not?” I don’t have much experience, seeing as how I’ve only been with one other guy, but Jonah is clearly an impressive specimen of man and I’m desperate to know what his cock would feel like.
He smiles at me, looking a little pained. “This was for you.”
“But I want you to feel good, too.”
He laughs shakily. “I promise what just happened made me feel damn good.” He presses a rough kiss to my lips. “When I come, I want it to be inside you.”
“Oh,” I squeak out, and he chuckles.
“That scare you?”
I bite my lip as I think about that. It probably should—a guy I barely know just told me he wants to have sex with me. After stripping me half naked in a bar bathroom and getting me off with his fingers. Who the hell even am I right now?
But as I look up at Jonah, as I take in the heat of his gaze, the naked desire in his eyes, I only have one answer for him. “No. It doesn’t scare me.”
His grin makes my stomach erupt in butterflies. Making this man happy is a heady, heady thing. “Does that mean I can convince you to come back to my place?”
A little stab of doubt pierces the happy lust bubble I’ve been existing in since coming back here.
I can’t go home with him. I’ve never been away from Lucas overnight.
I’m fairly certain between Aunt Leigh and Trisha, they could handle him until morning—hell, Trisha would undoubtedly insist. But it doesn’t feel right.
Not when we’ve only been in this town for a few weeks.
God, though, there’s a part of me that wants to. There’s a part of me that wants to see if this feeling could possibly last. What if going farther with Jonah feels even better than what’s already happened? Walking away from that feels wrong.
“Hey,” he says, bending his knees a little so we’re eye-to-eye. “Nothing has to happen. We can go back to my place and have a drink, talk.” His eyes shine with determination. “I just want to get to know you, Ellie. We don’t have to do anything more.”
“What if…what if I want to do more?” I manage to whisper, shocked with myself the second the words are out of my mouth.
His eyes flare. “You want more from me, all you have to do is ask.”
I bite my lip, thinking that over. No one has ever put me in control like this. The idea that I get to choose what happens next is heady.
I don’t have to spend the night, right? I can just enjoy some time with him then get a ride share or something. Hell, Solitude is so small I could probably walk back to Trisha’s house.
“Come on, Ellie,” he urges, pressing a tempting kiss to the side of my neck before looking up at me with sparkling eyes and a boyish grin. “Say yes.”
All of the worry and tension fade away as I smile back. “Well, now, I don’t know,” I tell him. “I don’t usually go home with strangers, you know.”
His grin turns to a smirk. “Then let me buy you a drink first.”
I laugh. “So chivalrous, considering the fact you own this bar.”
He cups the side of my face. “Jesus, you’re pretty when you laugh.” The heat rushing to my cheeks must be evident because he grins. “And pretty when you blush. Damn, I’m gonna spend the next week trying to think of new ways to make you blush.”
I don’t want to think about the rest of the week—there are too many responsibilities waiting for me there. I want to focus on right now, tonight.
“I’ll let you buy me a drink,” I tell him. “But I still haven’t decided if I’m going home with you.”
His smile looks victorious. “I’ll introduce you to the bar staff. Hell, I bet at least one or two of my brothers are around here somewhere. You can meet them, and they’ll tell you that you can trust me.”
“I’m sure they’ll be so impartial.”
Jonah laughs. “You don’t have any brothers, do you?”
“Nope. Only child.”
“Well as the unlucky possessor of three brothers I can tell you that they aren’t at all likely to try and make me look good. That’s basically the opposite of the brother code.”
“I’m gonna need to hear more about this brother code.
” The grin on my face probably makes me look like an idiot, but I can’t seem to wipe it away.
It’s so nice to just be able to talk to each other, to tease, to feel so comfortable with a guy like this.
As amazing as the sexy stuff was, this kind of easy interaction is also totally new for me. I find I like it a lot.
“First rule,” he says solemnly. “Always give each other a hard time.”
I laugh. “Even when you’re trying to score?”
“Especially then. Honestly, they’re far more likely to tell you a bunch of embarrassing stories, just to mess with me. Those bastards live to be assholes.”
As if on cue, there’s a loud knock on the bathroom door. “Jonah, you fucker, get your worthless ass out here,” a deep male voice calls. “We’re busy as hell out front and you’re back here doing god knows what.”
He raises his eyebrows as if to say, see? “My brother Mac,” he mutters in an undertone. Then, louder, “keep your fucking shirt on, loser.”
“I have five kegs I need to carry out from the back in the next five minutes,” Mac shouts, pounding again. “Get your ass out of there and help me or I swear to God you’ll find cow shit in your bed tonight.”
Jonah just grins at me. “He’ll do it, too,” he says softly. “One time our brother Lawson dented the fender on his truck and that psychopath drove around to different farms for two hours in the middle of the night to gather piles of cow shit to put in his room.”
“Boys are weird.” I shudder, wondering how on earth I’m going to deal with Lucas when he gets bigger.
“I can hear you talking,” Mac calls.
“I’ll meet you in the stockroom, asshole!” Jonah shouts.
There’s grumbling on the other side of the door and then the sound of heavy boots stomping away.
“I guess I see what you mean,” I tell him. “I can’t imagine that guy making an effort to talk you up just so you can get laid tonight.”
Jonah groans. “Please don’t say get laid when I have to leave you and go work with my brother.”
I laugh, hopping off the sink. “Better get to it. I’m definitely not going back to your house if there is cow shit anywhere on the premises.
” I peek behind him in search of my camisole, not relishing the thought of putting the wet fabric back on.
Jonah stops me though, turning to grab something from a shelf.
“Here,” he says, holding a t-shirt with the Low Bar logo on the chest. “Extras for the wait staff. You can wear one of these.” Before I can agree, he’s slipping the shirt over my head.
“I’m capable of dressing myself, you know.”
He makes a non-committal sound at the back of his throat. “Maybe I like taking care of you.”
I try to think of the last time anyone did anything to take care of me, and come up blank.
Maybe that’s why it feels kind of nice to let Jonah lift my arms into the short sleeves then tuck the front of the oversized tee into my jeans.
He smooths some hair out of my face, looking at me with an intoxicating mix of tenderness and heat. “There you go. Good as new.”
As I follow him out into the hallway, my heart is soaring. I feel better than new. I can’t remember the last time something felt so easy. So completely right. I can’t remember the last time I did something for just me.
“I’ll be right back,” Jonah says, pushing me against the wall, his entire body covering mine as he brings his lips down for a kiss. And even though I just had the best orgasm of my life, heat gathers low in my belly once again, a sweet ache throbbing between my thighs. God, I want this man.
“Promise you’ll wait for me,” he says against my mouth.
“I promise,” I whisper.
It’s stupid of me. I know better than anyone that you should never promise something you might not be able to give. And if I didn’t know that fact, it becomes clear to me the second I make my way back into the bar by myself—and crash right into Trisha.
“I’m sorry,” she says, and immediately I know that something is wrong. Trisha looks tense. Tense and worried. “I was just coming back to get you—”
“What happened?” I demand, clutching her arm as fear rushes through me, so overwhelming I feel like my legs might give out. “Lucas? Is he okay?”
“Kevin called the house,” she says, her expression full of pity as she studies my face. “Mom said he’d been drinking. He made a bunch of threats, kept calling back over and over—”
“Damn it,” I moan, sickness gathering in my belly.
“He isn’t going to hurt you,” Trisha says fiercely. “He’s two hundred miles away. Mom said he was just drunk and acting stupid. The only reason she even called me is because the phone woke Lucas up and—”
“He was scared,” I finish for her, anger mixing with the nausea now. The thought of my little boy scared of his own father kills me.
And I wasn’t there to comfort him. Because I was hooking up with a complete stranger in a bar.
Jesus, what is wrong with me?
“We need to go,” I say, taking my purse from her hands. “I’m sober enough to drive.” I never even finished my second glass of wine, not to mention the mixed drinks Jonah made for me that I abandoned on the table.
“I already called an Uber,” Trisha says. “They should be here any minute.” Her face is filled with sympathy. “I didn’t want you to drive when you’re upset.”
I drove two hundred miles from Georgia when I was even more upset, but there’s no point in arguing about it. I just want to get home to my little boy as fast as humanly possible.
I only turn back once, right before I walk out the front door. Jonah is nowhere to be seen. I wonder what he’ll think, when he comes out and sees that I’ve gone. Will he be angry? Disappointed?
I can’t let myself worry about that, though. The girl he met in that bathroom isn’t the real me, anyhow. The real me doesn’t mess around with handsome strangers in a bar. Because the real me doesn’t get to take nights off from her responsibilities and worries.
Instead they follow me, always on alert, always waiting for that perfect moment, just when I think I’m clear, to catch me off guard and reach out and strike.