Chapter 4 #2
She reaches for the cup on her nightstand. She takes a sip of water, then she holds it out to me.
“Drink.”
There she goes, bossing me around again. But damn—that sexy tone turns me on.
She’s an absolute goddess, and in this moment, I’d gladly do anything she asks me to.
I open my mouth and she sets the cup at my lips, tipping it until water rolls across my tongue. I swallow the first sip, then I let the rest of the water stay in my mouth. Returning to her pussy, I part my lips and spill the liquid over her folds.
Jules moans gutturally, squirming against the bed. Her legs tighten around my head. I go crazy with my tongue, no more holding back.
The cup slips from her hand and falls to the floor. Jules’s back arches to the ceiling, and she whimpers my name.
I’ve led hundred-million dollar negotiations. I’ve secured multi-year contracts that have set my clients up with generational wealth. But never in my life have I felt more powerful. Knowing I hold this stubborn woman’s pleasure in my hands.
I drive two fingers into her hole, feeling her walls quake around me. “Come for me, Jules.”
Her hands find my hair, curling tightly into the strands where I’m kneeled between her perfect thighs. Her hips buck with wild abandon. I don’t stop devouring her. Instead, I work harder.
Then I feel it—the exact moment when her whole world cracks and shatters into pieces.
And it’s my name she shouts up at the ugly popcorn ceiling. “Lincoln!”
My body’s reaction takes me off-guard. A thrill shoots through my groin like a rocket. Stars explode across my field of vision. And I come inside my boxers.
No way. No fucking way.
Oblivious to what just happened, Jules falls back on the mattress, mumbling and panting up at the fan overhead. Meanwhile, I’m squirming in my socks as a thick glob of cum is slowly rolling down the inside of my leg. Great.
As I try to navigate how I’m going to maneuver my way out of this mess without embarrassing myself, Jules cranes her neck to observe me.
“You okay?” she asks, a sexy, raspy quality to her voice as she examines my expression.
“I, um…I—” My voice squeaks like the goddamned teenager I’ve reverted back to. “You mind if I use your bathroom?”
She lifts a shoulder in a shrug, but her stare zeroes in on me with eagle-eyed suspicion. “Sure. Second door to your left.”
Heat crawls up my neck as I slowly rise to my feet, wishing Jules would give me some goddamned privacy and look away. But she doesn’t. She just keeps staring.
I cup a hand over my junk. I start backing away to the door, almost tripping on our discarded clothing in the process.
That’s when Jules sits up, narrowing her eyes on my damp underwear. Today of all days, why’d I have to wear gray?
“What are you looking at?” I mumble, annoyed.
A slow smile tips up one corner of her mouth. “Wait—did you—?”
“Yes, Jules. Yes,” I admit with resignation.
At first, her expression is shocked. Then, her eyes darken with mischief. “Say it…” she dares me.
Is she serious?
“Tell me what I did to you,” she insists, her voice husky.
On a sigh, I drag my free palm over my sticky mouth. “You made me come in my pants, you troublemaker. That’s what you did to me.”
Her grin twinkles with equal parts amusement and satisfaction.
“It’s been a while, all right?” I bark out defensively. “And you were really wet. And so damn tight. And that turned me on. And you taste damn, fucking amazing, okay? Plus, you were moaning my name. So I don’t want to hear—”
Before I can finish cussing her out, she springs up out of the bed. Her arms fling around my neck and she kisses me silly again. Her tongue dips into my mouth, searching for mine. She groans.
“Hurry up and use the bathroom. I’m not done having my way with you.”
A growl erupts from my chest. I land an open-palmed smack on her ass. “Crazy woman.”
“Can’t wait to show you how crazy I am.” She smacks my ass right back. “Now, scoot.” Her chin points toward the door.
Shaking my head, I turn for the bathroom.
“Clean bath towels are on the shelf over the toilet,” I hear her yell after me.
“Thanks,” I mumble, annoyed with how smug she’s being.
The bathroom is as small and cluttered as every other part of this house. I peel off my ruined underwear and throw them in the garbage. I guess I’ll be doing the walk of shame commando-style in the morning. What other choice do I have?
I clean up quickly, jumping into the shower and lathering up with the girly bodywash I find there. It all takes me exactly 10.98 seconds before I’m drying off with a towel and tossing it into the laundry hamper, excited to get back to her bed.
Jules is borderline scary. What does it say about me that I’m so hungry for more of her?
I burst back into the bedroom like I’m being chased by an ax murderer, eager to pick up where we left off.
So imagine my disappointment when I find her curled up on her side, facing the window, her shoulders rising and falling in a calm, zen rhythm.
She’s sleeping.
Oh, dammit.
There’s nothing I want more than to sink into her tight, hot pussy and feel her walls contracting and rippling around me. But I’m shit out of luck because, clearly, it’s not gonna happen tonight.
On a heavy sigh, I take a look around her room. Between the jam-packed clothing rack pressed up against the window, the plastic storage box bursting with purses and shoes, and the stack of old-leather-bound books piled up on top of a set of bongo drums, I can barely turn in a complete circle.
Yet I’m struck by a surprising realization—I don’t want to go home. Right here in Jules’s cluttered bedroom is exactly where I want to be.
There have been too many lonely nights since my divorce, and I don’t want tonight to be yet another one of them. Not when I can just slip beneath Jules’s ratty comforter and pretend like I belong here.
Should I stay? Should I go?
Will Jules suffocate me with a pillow if she wakes up in the middle of the night and finds me in her bed?
I guess we’ll just have to see.
“I hope this doesn’t make me a creep…” I whisper to myself as I climb onto the edge of the bed, stealing one corner of the blanket and wrapping it around myself. It totally makes me a creep.
Still, I lie here in the silence, my eyes tracing the feminine slope of Jules’s shoulder for a long moment.
I flick off the lamp.
I stay.