CHAPTER 4 – CROSSING THE LINE #2
I nod, already gathering my bag and phone, and soon, we’re outside.
The afternoon is cool and windy, but not unpleasant with the sun shining on my blonde curls.
We stroll side by side, not touching, but so close our arms brush every third step.
I wonder if he’ll reach for my hand, or if I should reach for his, but we keep the suspense going, like it’s foreplay.
At the corner of the block, Jack stops and turns to me. “You know,” he says in a deep voice, “You make me feel about twenty years younger.”
I smile sweetly. “Is that a compliment, or are you just outing yourself as an old man?”
Jack laughs, a real one, and I’m surprised by how much I like the sound.
“I’m saying I like being around you,” he says, quieter now, “even if it’s reckless.”
I smile coquettishly. “Reckless is underrated.”
There’s a beat where I think Jack’s going to kiss me, right there by the bike rack. But he doesn’t. Instead, he gestures at the little park across the street.
“Walk with me?” he asks.
I nod, and follow, not caring if anyone is watching.
Inside, my pulse is a time bomb. I don’t know if I want him to kiss me, or if I want to keep this right where it is—a suspended, electric maybe.
We pass under a maple tree, leaves raining down around us, and I want to say something clever and witty, but all I can think about is his hands on my waist, running through my hair, or anywhere they want to be.
I risk a glance at the alpha male, and those patrician features are set. He’s focused, like he’s about to make the biggest decision of his life. I want to make it for him, but I don’t because I know this has to be on him. Jack’s reached a turning point … and it’s up to him to make a choice.
I smile sweetly as we stroll deeper into Lakewood Park. It’s filled with verdant greenery this time of year, with towering trees, waist-high shrubs, and lots of darkened, private spots.
“Penny for your thoughts?” I ask hesitantly.
The handsome man stops, turning to face me.
“Maybe. But I’m trying to be mysterious, so a penny wouldn’t be enough.
” There’s something behind the joke, though—an intensity in his blue eyes that makes my nipples harden as my insides go soft.
This man calls to everything feminine within my soul, and I absolutely love it.
We keep walking, the path bending around a low hedge, opening into a small grove of oaks that hides us from the main drag.
Here, the air is cooler, the only sound the dull roar of highway in the distance and a few birds that apparently didn’t get the memo about urban sprawl.
There’s a bench, but Jack doesn’t head for it.
Instead, he stops in the shade, hands in his pockets, looking at me with a conflicted expression.
I can sense how much he wants me, and how he’s forcing himself to maintain distance.
Yet I also know that he’s on-edge, and just a moment from losing control.
“What is it, Jack?” I ask in a soft voice.
He looks tormented.
“You sure about this, Eliza?”
“About what?” I ask, tilting my head.
He snorts. “You know damn well what.”
There’s a flash of the old cockiness—this is the man who landed a C-130 with one engine out, the guy who talks shit about city council but would give you his jacket in a blizzard. I love that about him. I want to see if I can break him.
“Maybe I do,” I say, “but maybe I want to hear you say it. It’s important that the words come from you because … well, it just is.”
Jack’s jaw ticks, and he takes a step closer. He’s so much bigger than me, but I’m not afraid. If anything, it makes me feel powerful to know I have this gorgeous alpha male spinning in his head.
“I shouldn’t be here,” he says, voice low. “Your dad—Gerald—he’s like a brother. If he knew what I was thinking—what I want to do with you—”
“What do you want to do with me?” I ask, my voice so soft it’s almost lost in the wind.
His eyes go dark. “Everything. And nothing. Both at once.”
I reach for his hand. He hesitates, but lets me take it. His palm is rough and warm, fingers long and strong. I press our joined hands to my chest, right over my racing heart.
“I want you to do all those naughty things, Uncle Jack,” I say. “And I’m not going to apologize for the wanting either.”
He shakes his head, and for a second I think he’ll walk away. Instead, he takes my face with both hands—big hands, broad and sure—and kisses me like he’s drowning and I’m the last pocket of air on earth.
The world narrows to his mouth and the taste of coffee and spearmint, the feel of his stubble scraping my chin. He kisses like he’s fighting for control, but the harder he tries, the sloppier it gets, until we’re both ravenous, lips crushed together and he claims my plush pout.
He breaks away, panting. “Fuck, Eliza.”
“Mmm,” I tease. “I like it.”
He slides his hands down to my waist, pulling me flush against him. I can feel the hardness pressed to my belly, and for a moment, I want to undo every button on his shirt and mark up his tanned skin until he can’t forget me.
“Do you want to keep going?” he asks, like a final checkpoint.
I answer by rising on tiptoe and biting his earlobe, just hard enough to make him grunt. “Yes, please, Uncle Jack. I’d like that.”
He growls in the back of his throat, the sound rumbling straight into my bones.
Then the world disappears as Jack drags me from the path and into a copse of trees.
There are bushes everywhere, hiding us, but I don’t care if anyone sees.
All that matters is his hands on my hips, my arms around his neck, the heat building between us with every stolen breath.
He lifts me like I weigh nothing, pinning me gently to the trunk of an oak.
Our mouths crash together, hungry and desperate.
His thigh presses between mine, and I grind down, shameless, chasing the friction.
He shoves the sleeve of my dress aside, exposing my bare shoulder, and covers it with kisses, soft and rough at the same time.
Holy cow, I had no idea that my shoulder was an erogenous zone, but my head falls back as I sigh with pleasure.
“Yes, Uncle Jack,” I moan as my hands run through that dark hair. “Mmmm.”
Then, my hands find their way under his shirt, tracing the planes of his heavy pecs and down his six pack abs. This man works out, and it shows. He groans when I rake my nails across his ribs.
“Eliza,” he murmurs into my hair, “I’ve wanted you since—fuck, when I saw you in those goddamn short shorts.”
I kiss him again, deep and passionate, then break away just long enough to breathe. “Good, because I want you too.”
His control snaps. One hand goes to the hem of my skirt, fingers skating up the inside of my thigh. I shiver, the anticipation almost too much to bear.
“God, you’re beautiful,” he says, voice rough with need.
I want to say something witty, but all I can do is whimper as his fingers brush the lace edge of my panties. He slides his hand under the fabric, finding me drenched and ready, and his whole body shudders.
“Jesus,” he says, “you’re so fucking wet.”
“Only for you,” I whisper, grinding against his palm. “Oooh, that feels good!”
He teases me, fingers gentle but insistent, rubbing slow circles on my clit that make me want to scream. I claw at his shirt, desperate to feel more skin, and he obliges, yanking it over his head in one smooth motion.
His torso is even better than I imagined—bronzed and strong, a map of everything he’s survived. I run my hands over every inch, memorizing the muscled peaks and valleys, trailing my fingers over his abs and then down that arrow of hair.
“Mmm,” I coo softly. “Where does this lead?”
Jack’s focused on me, though. His fingers move faster, driving me higher with every stroke, before pinching my clit and making me jerk with pleasure.
“Come for me,” he whispers. “On my hand, baby girl.”
I have no choice to obey. I come hard and fast, biting into his shoulder as deep shudders run through my pussy.
“Mmmm!” I wail, pressing myself against him as hot gushes of cream spill into his palm. “Ooooooh!”
“Yes, baby,” he rasps, continuing to rub me through my orgasm. “Fuck yeah, you’re so fucking responsive.”
Jack holds me as waves crash through my form, lips on my forehead, murmuring soft words I can barely hear. I shudder and squeal, clinging to his broad form as my sweetest spot juices heavily, his fingers rubbing me through it all.
When I come back to myself, I find him watching me, blue eyes full of something that looks a lot like adoration.
“You were incredible, Eliza,” he whispers in my ear. “You’re beautiful when you come.”
My heart swoops and drops as a warm flush fills my veins. But I want to make him happy too, and smile sweetly before dropping to my knees on the soil.
“Your turn,” I murmur with a coy smile up at the handsome man.
Jack tries to stop me, but I bat his hands away, determined. “No, I want to.”
I unzip his jeans and pull them down, freeing his cock. OMG, it’s huge! It must be ten inches at least, thick and perfect, flushed dark at the head and lined with bulging veins. I pause, mouth open.
“Something wrong, sweetheart?” Jack rasps.
I stammer, looking up at him with wide eyes.
“It’s just so big, Daddy. I don’t know if I can—”
He grins. “Give it a try, sweetheart. You won’t know unless you try.”
I wrap my hand around that massive member, stroking slow and steady, then lean in to lick a bead of pre-cum from the tip. He’s salty, sweety, and utterly yummy.
“Mmmm,” I moan with a naughty look up at him. “You’ve been eating well, Daddy.”
He curses, one hand tangling in my hair, the other braced against the tree.
“God, Eliza, you don’t have to—”
“I want to,” I say, and then take him deep into my mouth.