Chapter 6
Jack
Sighing, I sat back and grabbed the drink Kennedy had made me. My head spiraled with images of a car chase from my Checkmate series and a remote cabin featuring an infuriatingly sexy woman.
My notes were spread across the table, as well as a few crumpled sheets of paper lined with shit ideas.
They were merely fragmented thoughts, until I could line things into some sort of semblance of a plot.
If only readers understood the agonizing process of molding ideas into something that was readable.
I lifted the drink to my lips and savored the warm and spicy liquid.
As if she’d known I needed it, she’d made it strong.
Closing my eyes, I rotated through a variety of scenarios where my character, Jackie, would meet the grumpy survivalist I wanted her to fall in love with.
Every time I imagined my heroine, my stubborn brain superimposed Kennedy’s features over it.
Frustrated with my lack of progress, I tossed back the last of the liquid.
The whiskey’s bite rooted me to the present.
I set my laptop on top of the mess I’d made and padded to the corner where I’d seen a variety of liquor.
After spotting a bottle of scotch, I poured myself two fingers, tossed it back, and poured another drink.
Setting it down, I collected my notes. As I sifted through them, I allowed my mind to relax and delved into creating a synopsis I could later return to.
I wasn’t sure how much time had passed, only that I hadn’t been nearly as productive as I’d wanted.
The words on the screen were far from my best but something I could clean up after some rest. The sex scene I’d written between Jackie and the survivalist, Mark, wouldn’t happen for a few chapters, which was doing little to squelch my growing desire for Kennedy.
I wasn’t stupid. It was glaringly obvious there was a connection between Jackie and Kennedy. Maybe after some rest, I’d chalk it up to utter garbage and delete it. Tossing back the last of my drink, I set out to clean up and take my semi-hard, buzzed ass to bed.
Once I had everything tucked back into my bag, I placed it to the side of the couch and out of the way of others. Grabbing my glass, I made sure I’d left the room like I’d found it and padded to the kitchen.
The cabin was warm and quiet, even with the sounds of the structure settling. I grabbed the sponge and made quick work of washing my glass. As I placed it on the drying rack, a floorboard creaked nearby.
Bare toes caught my attention before my gaze snagged on her soft-looking legs.
Little red sleep shorts with Christmas trees on them hung off her hips, and a sliver of skin peeked out from under her red spaghetti strap top covering full breasts.
My mouth watered at the sight of her nipples pressing against the fabric, and my cock thickened.
“Jack?” Kennedy’s voice was deep from lack of use. “I didn’t think you were still up.”
“I—” I cleared my throat as I took the glass from her hand. “I was cleaning up.”
She leaned against the counter as I turned on the water. “I could have done that.”
“And you could have made yourself a drink and gone upstairs, but you made me one too.”
“It was the least I could do.” Kennedy raised and dropped one shoulder, the move drawing my eyes down to her cleavage. “Why would you have spent Christmas alone? Where’s your family?”
Scrubbing the glass a little longer than needed, I said, “It’s just me. My parents died a few years ago, and I’m an only child.”
“Oh,” she whispered. “I’m glad you’re here.”
I put her glass next to my clean one and took her in. Her attention was on my mouth, causing my heart rate to spike. Did she want me to kiss her as much as I wanted?
Slowly, so as to not scare her and to give her the opportunity to stop me, I moved in front of her. My hands cupped the counter at her sides, itching with the need to grab her hips instead.
“You probably should stop looking at me that way,” I said, my voice deep and raspy with my arousal.
“Why? Am I making you uncomfortable?”
I stepped closer, my erection brushing her and making a little gasp escape her kissable lips. “Far from it.”
We stood like that for a little while, my cock twitching and her nipples grazing my chest. I deserved a medal for my outstanding control. All I wanted to do was rip off her shorts and pull out my heavy cock before slamming it deep inside of her.
Instead, my gaze flitted from her face to the pulse at her neck begging to be licked. Unable to take any more, I leaned in as I slid a hand into her hair. “Tell me not to kiss you.”
“This is probably a bad idea,” she whispered, her whiskey breath tickling my lips.
“The worst idea,” I said against her mouth. Plucking at her upper lip, licking, and nibbling on the soft flesh, I groaned.
Kennedy wrapped her arms around my neck as I slid my free hand around her waist and pulled her against me.
She sucked my lower lip into her mouth, and a zing of electricity shot to the tip of my cock.
I muttered a garbled fuck and groaned at the delicious feeling she’d created in my body.
I’d let her call my work smut if she kept doing that.
I deepened the kiss. Exploring her mouth with my tongue, I was vaguely aware I was probably being a little too rough. The moment her fingernails scraped across my scalp, I reached down and grabbed the backs of her thighs.
After setting her on the edge of the counter, I slid my hands up her silky thighs.
Squeezing her hips, I pressed against her warm center.
Kennedy moaned against my mouth, and her nails dug into my flesh.
A light floral scent danced across my senses as I sprinkled kisses along her jaw and nibbled along her tender flesh. My pulse thundered in my neck.
The infuriating woman had crawled under my skin, and I wanted to fuck her more than I needed my next breath.
I’d never felt so aroused and wild as I spread her thighs wider.
Kissing the slopes of her breasts, I dragged my thumbs up her inner thighs.
The heat from her core became more noticeable the closer I got to her center.
Kennedy released a shuddering breath as she held onto my shoulders. “F... Ye—son of a bitch.” Her words were a mess as I slid my tongue between her breasts. I passed the hem of her shorts, and she rubbed herself on my aching dick.
“I’m going to touch you,” I muttered against her skin.
“Yes, please.”
I chuckled. “So polite.”
The tip of my right thumb barely grazed her panty-clad fold when a noise in the distance had us both freezing.
“What was that?” Kennedy whimpered, her chest heaving as I pulled my hands back.
I listened closely and squinted my eyes, as if it would help me hear better.
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.
The sound grew louder about the time of our eyes widened.
“Is... Is that a vibrator?” I asked, amusement lacing my words.
Kennedy’s mouth flapped open and closed a few times. “Oh my God, I think it is,” she said, pushing me back and jumping down from the counter.
I followed her out of the kitchen, and we rounded the corner, the vibrating becoming louder with each step. I nearly ran her over when she abruptly stopped in front of Gran’s door.
A rustling accompanied the buzzing a second before a moan of pleasure could be heard through the door.
Kennedy’s hair swayed back and forth before she turned to face me. Oh my God! she mouthed, her eyes bugging out of her head.
Not wanting to think more about the matter, I bent, pressed my shoulder into her belly, and stood. I didn’t bother with any lights and carried her up the stairs over my shoulder until I reached what I thought was her room.
I slid her down my front and brushed her hair back from her stunned face. Grabbing her hips lightly, I held her flush to me, not wanting to break the connection we’d made earlier.
“My granny has a vibrator?” she whispered.
“Don’t you?” I asked, images of her sliding it in and out of her folds coming to mind.
“Yes, but—”
“But what? Are we the only ones allowed to get off?” I asked, sliding one hand to her bottom and squeezing.
“No, I just don’t want to think about it,” she said.
I dipped my head as I chuckled and nipped her earlobe. “Then don’t. I can make you think of other things.”
Her hands wound around my waist and up my back. “Oh? I’m not sure I’m going to recover.”
Running my nose up her neck, I breathed her in. “Do you need CPR? Or would you rather my fingers find their way back to your pussy?”
Kennedy whimpered at my words, and I grinned. “Damn, those are much better thoughts.”
“Not as good as wondering how you’ll taste on my tongue,” I said and nipped her lower lip. “While you ride my face.”
“Fucking hell,” she whimpered as I pulled back.
“Sweet dreams, Kennedy,” I said and turned toward my door, adjusting my erection before I did more than just tease us both.
“Asshole,” she muttered as I shut the door behind me.
I scrubbed my face with both hands and clenched my teeth. Turned on beyond belief, I unbuttoned my pants and slid my hand into my underwear. I grabbed the base of my cock and squeezed, hoping to quench the boiling desire in my veins.
Peering down at my thickness, I hissed, “Calm the fuck down.”
The damn thing was throbbing, making me wonder how it would feel to have Kennedy pulsing around me as she came.
“Fuck, that’s not helping.” Releasing myself, I turned toward the door and pulled it open. The hall was empty, and for a moment I debated knocking on her door.
Exhaling a harsh breath, I forced myself to return to the confines of my room. It wasn’t the first time I’d gone to bed horny as hell. I wasn’t a teenager with no lack of control. I’d rub one out and make myself sleep. If Kennedy wanted to finish this, she knew where to find me.
But do we want someone who judges a man for reading romance? the little voice in my head asked.
Recalling how quickly she had summed up romance books as mommy porn had the desire in my veins simmering and frustration taking its place.
The woman had managed to hit all my buttons with a few short sentences, unlike her granny, who not only loved my books but found a man writing romance to be sexually liberating.
“If we want equality for genders, then we need to accept all forms of it,” Gran had once told me years ago, when I’d first spoken to her during one of Harrison’s calls in college.
I’d merely admitted playing with the idea of writing a romance. It had taken me over two years to finally pull the trigger, but her words had been the encouragement I’d needed to not give up on the dream.
Tossing the covers aside, I undressed and lay back on the soft cotton sheets.
My erection from earlier was mostly gone, so I tucked an arm under my head and shut my eyes.
Kennedy’s face came to mind. I licked my lips, searching for her taste.
Staying in the mountains was supposed to have brought me relaxation while I hung out with my buddy and his family.
Instead, I’d gotten in an argument with his sister and found myself with the desperate need to fuck her senseless.
I wasn’t sure Harrison would be happy about either.
What would Gran say? I wondered as I fell asleep.
My dreams blended with what I wanted and what had happened downstairs.
But instead of us hearing Gran using a vibrator, it was me walking in on Kennedy.
Dream Kennedy had been propped up on the pillows of a bed, her knees bent.
.. the fingers of one hand plucking and teasing a nipple as the other fucked her pussy with a vibrator.
I woke from the dream coated in sweat, my erection slapping my stomach as a string of precum connected both. Wrapping my hand around my length, I set out to release the pressure that I knew would only become worse.
I couldn’t seem to escape the woman driving me crazy, even in my dreams. So I’d rub one out in her honor and hope it calmed my body.