30. Jack ‘J’
30
JACK ‘J’
F rom the moment he laid eyes on Sara, J knew he wanted more. And now she was in his home, learning to trust him, letting him hold her, feel her, taste her. Fuck, he’d never get enough of that sacred, precious jewel between her legs.
He always knew the noises she apologized for, were the very sounds that would drive him wild when he was between her legs, making her scream with pleasure as he made her come.
And she had. The way she felt as he sent her over the edge was something he’d play over and over in his head.
Now he’s pulling out the undersection of the fancy sofa he bought a while back, a dumb purchase he made because he thought it was a good idea to spend more time at home, relaxing, watching a movie, or having a beer while football played.
It never happened. He struggled to relax for long enough to actually enjoy a night with himself. Each time he’d tried, he’d ended up checking emails instead, or he’d simply gotten in his car, drove to the office, and worked until late.
He wasn’t used to sharing his space with girls, partly because there weren’t a lot of girls he trusted… But mostly because he’d never met anyone he wanted to bring home with him. Sara was different.
Sure, he was used to meeting girls like her. The ones who valued luxury, spent hours in salons, and shopped from dawn until dusk. He attracted girls like that, he appreciated girls like that. He was the guy girls came to if they wanted to be shown a good time. Fancy dinner reservations, trips to Europe, shopping sprees. And he loved being that person. But ultimately, none of them ever penetrated his surface, certainly not deep enough for him to be acting like an obsessed teenager and begging a girl to stop playing games with him. As soon as he’d made her promise to quit the bullshit, he realized every extra hour spent at work had been an avoidance tactic to compensate for the absence of something he didn’t even realize was missing.
He liked her. He’d even shocked the shit out himself and told her that. He’d even had the audacity to suggest Sara liked him too… Although the way she pressed her hips into his mouth while moaning his name earlier, would suggest there was nothing audacious whatsoever about his assumption.
Even though his feelings were out in the open, it didn’t mean smooth sailing just yet. She had things she was working through. Difficult things he didn’t fully understand but was starting to. Which is why he’d left the ball in her court, leaving her to decide how she wanted to spend the rest of the evening.
He’d date her in a heartbeat, but he’d let her leave in one too. He was too scared she’d run if he pushed her too far. He’d do most of the work to gain her trust, but there was a point where he had to sit back and see if she’d come on her own without him smothering her.
But when she’d asked for a pair of boxer briefs and one of his T-shirts so the pair of them could relax on his sofa, he’d had to do his best not to grin like a damn fool. He’d simply shrugged in approval, pointed Sara toward the bathroom, and got to work on figuring out the sofa.
A giant tray of sushi arrived just as he got the set-up of the lounge in order. Sara collected it from downstairs, grinning with delight as she climbed onto the pillows and throws J had tossed on there to make her more comfortable.
Having Sara amongst his things felt natural. He liked her inspecting his books and photography and wearing his clothes. Everything she did made him a softer, more relaxed version of himself.
It’d happened at Midas too. He was surrounded by riches and fame, otherwise known as his friends and colleagues. Yet the only person he’d felt truly comfortable and normal around was her.
He still felt terrible about the whole misunderstanding in his bar.
“How’s your friend?” J asks, straightening his legs in front of him as he admires how huge the sofa is. He crosses one ankle over the other as he adds, a little guiltily, “The one who had the bar stool accident.” He keeps one hand on his stomach, and one lazily behind his head.
Sara speaks around her chopsticks. “You mean Amber? She’s fine, forgotten about the whole thing. Oh, but she feels really bad about the whole statue incident.” Sara makes a throw up gesture, causing him to smirk. Then she sighs. “I guess that was the icing on the cake for you that night. It would have pissed me off too, I suppose. ”
“No,” J says firmly. “It wasn’t Amber. It was…the word Drew threw at me.” He inhales deeply, deciding that since she trusted him enough to eat sushi on his sofa in his boxer briefs after he’d sucked her pussy until she saw stars, then he could trust her with the truth of that night.
“What word?” Sara asks as she stuffs a cucumber roll in her mouth.
“A word I shouldn’t react to, but I do,” he says, shrugging. He draws in a long breath. He asked for honesty, he had to give it back. “I told you about my father, how he was an asshole. Well, it went beyond that. He was calculating and cruel. Loved to intimidate us. Some kind of power status thing.” J wants to frown hard at the memory but manages to keep a neutral expression. “I hear the word bully, I think of him. I guess when I heard Drew use that word, then direct it at me, I lost it. It’s not like I can explain all that to the tabloids.”
Sara’s eyeing him with a look he can’t figure out. Is it sadness, or something else?
“I’m not using that as an excuse, I know I acted like a dick. I’m just letting you know that’s why it happened.”
Sara sets down her chopsticks and pushes the tray onto a low table next to her. She curves her body toward him, legs tucked underneath her. She rests her elbow on the back of the sofa, propping her head in her hand. She’s taken out the pigtails, and now her waved hair spills down past her shoulders. With her free arm, she reaches for J’s hand that rests on his stomach.
His first thought is to pull away, because that look she’s wearing is a lot like sympathy, and he’s not about to accept that from anyone.
He doesn’t move, however, because when he angles his head to look at her, he can see there’s zero pity in her rich, hazelnut eyes. Only determination. To do what, he’s not sure. Which is why he lets her squeeze his hand without snatching it away.
“I only met him a handful of times,” she says, delivering him a strong look that tells him he better listen up. “But from what I’ve seen so far, you’re nothing like your father.”
It sends a chill down his spine. Don’t squeeze her hand, idiot. Don’t let her know you felt that right in your dumb, fucking heart.
He swallows thickly.
“Also,” Sara chirps, letting him go abruptly and going back to the sushi. “Speaking of Midas, I heard you made it not for profit, but you’ve hardly shared the details of where the money’s going. Why?”
He reclines further into the sofa, crosses his arms over his chest, biceps spilling from the sleeves of the T-shirt, forearms thick and lean.
A long sigh huffs out of him. “If I shout about it, I figure certain people will ask things like ‘ What does he know?’ and I don’t want anything to rock the boat.”
Sara’s frowning. Looking at him like she looked at her boss that day when she rolled her eyes. Don’t look at me like you looked at that jerkoff, he wants to say to her, but he’s smart enough to wait and see where she’s going with such an offended look.
She points another cucumber roll at him with her chopsticks. “Fuck what people say, Jack,” she shrieks before stuffing it in her mouth. “Are they the ones doing the charity work? Are they the ones busting their ass to help people?” She chews violently.
“Probably not.” J laughs at her outburst. He can’t stop staring at her because that look she had in her eyes, the one with a little anger, but mostly passion, is the sexiest thing he’s witnessed on another person.
“Of course they aren’t.” She huffs. “So, are you going to tell me? About the charity?”
He blows out his cheeks. “You really want to know?”
“I really want to know.”
“Alright,” he says with determination. “It’s a charity, but also not a charity.” It comes out so confidently, he carries on before he loses his nerve. “It’s a program. For single parents.” Sara nods encouragingly. “Any parent, from any background who finds themselves alone or in need of support changing their job, getting employment, learning new skills, going to college, or finding childcare while they study. All of it. The Vandenberg Group will provide assistance until they reach their goal or gain whatever qualification they need.” He stops for air, but he’s not done. The words continue to flow, a gushing, broken tap of confession and liberation.
“My mom worked three jobs after my dad left. Dead end, thankless jobs just so we could eat and feel like normal kids. He wouldn’t let her work when they were married. Then he left us with nothing and left her vulnerable.” He swallows thickly, his head angling away from her, even though he knows she’s watching his every tick and move. “She passed before she could see the life I’ve built now. I couldn’t help her back then. Mowing lawns and washing every car in the neighborhood just wasn’t enough. If I’d been in the position I am now, then maybe…” He trails off. “Anyway, the program will help people like her.”
He's done. He’s spilled several truths about himself and now he’s afraid to look Sara in the eye. Afraid he’s been too vulnerable, afraid he’s shared too much of the dark past she probably had no idea existed .
“You were just a kid, Jack.” Her soft voice catches him from whatever gloomy place his mind was travelling to. “You did the best you could, and your mom would have known that.”
Then, her entire face lights up, and his only capable reaction is to go ahead and light up with her. He’s grinning like a fool again. How was she doing this to him? “The foundation sounds amazing. She would have been so proud.”
Then, right as he’s about to pull her onto his lap, she narrows her eyes, and pulls her mouth to one side as a contemplative grin takes shape on her glowing face. She’s springing up from the sofa and tiptoeing across the room before he can reach her.
“Where you going?” J asks suspiciously.
“To get dessert,” she calls over her shoulder, hips swishing in his gray boxer briefs she’s knotted at the waist so they hug her ass in all the right places.
Dessert? He doesn’t have anything for dessert. He eats out every night, the kitchen is just for interior design consistency, and apparently now for making Sara orgasm on his countertops… She’d no doubt return empty handed. He’s about to grab his phone and order in more food for them when she skips back into the room, holding the jar of honey he gave her above her head like a trophy.
A laugh rumbles out of him. “That’s your dessert?”
“This is our dessert.” She corrects him as she climbs onto the sofa, placing one foot either side of his legs before lowering herself onto his lap. “I want you to try it with me.”
Three, two, one…
He counts back in his head before the first twitch in his cock arrives.
She nestles herself in his lap, circling her hips to get comfortable .
Yup, that’ll do it.
Then, she unscrews the lid of the jar, bracelets jangling on her wrist as she twists. J watches her, wondering if she’s aware of how sexy she’s making such a mundane gesture look.
She tilts the jar, and before a lump can spill out and drip all over him, J scoops it up with the side of his ring finger. But just as he’s about to wipe it against the side of the glass, Sara takes his hand and sticks it right in her mouth.
His eyes widen as she sucks the honey from his finger.
“Walked right into that didn’t I?” He smirks.
She nods as a muffled, “ mhmm” comes from her throat as she wraps her whole mouth around his finger, sucking and swirling her tongue.
“Knew exactly what you were doing, didn’t you?”
“Mhmm.” She swirls her tongue around his finger again.
“You showing me something?” His pulse quickens. “Showing me what you’d like to do to a certain part of me?”
She grins. He pulls his hand back from her lips, only to plunge his middle and ring fingers into the jar again before jamming them right back in her mouth.
She sucks again, making all kinds of enticing sounds from her filled up mouth.
She’s comfortable with him. She’d walked in earlier to do a business deal and now she’s sucking honey from his fingers while his T-shirt clings to her tits and shows off how hard her nipples are beneath her lacey bra.
Which is no doubt the reason she runs her hands down his torso, then stops at the waistband of his sweatpants, running her fingers across the seam before she attempts to plunge her hand beneath the material.
Attempts, because he takes his hand from her mouth and catches her wrist .
“I told you, tonight’s about you,” he says, smirking. “Am I gonna wonder why the hell I didn’t let you wrap yourself around my dick and stroke me until I can’t remember my own name? Sure. But I’m keeping my word. Tonight’s about getting you off, I ask for nothing in return.”
He let’s go of her wrist, sliding both hands beneath the T-shirt, up her ribcage and then to her back where he unhooks her bra and lets it fall around her waist. His hands move to seek out her breasts. Her round, full breasts he can’t wait to get better acquainted with.
“But I at least want to touch it…” She pouts, her eyes fixating on the bulge forming in his pants.
“Probably a good idea, see what you’re getting yourself into.”
“What?” She laughs. He’s not offended, because he knows he can back it up. “Oh my god, you think I can’t handle you?”
He leans his head back, grinning. “Why don’t you tell me?”
She gets that determined look in her eyes. She reaches below the waistband, looks him dead in the eye as she grabs his hard cock. Her smug look lasts for less than two seconds, which is no doubt all the time it takes to realize she’s holding one of the most generously sized dicks on the planet. Her eyes widen and she squeals. She lets go, slaps both hands to her mouth.
“Jack!”
On the outside, he’s shrugging humbly. On the inside, he’s setting both hands behind his head, leaning back and delivering an almighty grin of victory.
“Maybe I will have to think about that.” She grins, biting her bottom lip before she leans in to brush her lips over his.
“Good, think about my dick all you want.” J wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her into him. “Plus, you touch it again tonight, I’m a goner,” he answers honestly as he thinks about how close he was to coming all over Sara’s hand just because she’d touched him for the first time.
“But you’ve got me worked up now,” she says, dragging his bottom lip between her teeth. “You need to fix that…if tonight’s really about me.” J feels her eyelashes flutter against his cheek. “You said I had to ask if I wanted something. Well…”
His pulse soars because he wasn’t kidding, being told she wanted him to make her come drove him wild.
“You asking me to play with your pussy again?” J asks as he maneuvers his huge body onto his side, pulling Sara down with him.
She nods as she wraps a leg around his thigh.
“How?”
“With these.” She takes his hand, the one he had the honey on. Then she draws his middle and ring finger to her mouth and licks them, again. “Dessert hands.”
And all in the space of an evening, it seemed like Sara had found her voice again. Learned how to ask for things that would make her feel good. Learned that he wasn’t fucking around when he said tonight was about her.
J flips her over and pulls her back against his chest. He slides the arm he’s leaning on under her side, his hands immediately finding her breasts, his fingers circling then pinching at her nipple. “You know what I think?” He uses his other hand to part her thighs by hooking one of her legs around the lower half of his leg. “I think you have the filthiest mind. And I’m very into that.”
Then he plunges his hand beneath her borrowed boxer briefs to find her folds already soaked in arousal. He massages her and strokes her, and then slips his fingers inside her. He rubs her clit, uses light and hard pressure to tease her. Slow, excruciating circles. Fast, firm circles she seems to prefer, the ones that demanded her vocal cords to test the sound proofing of his building. He waits for her body to respond to each way he touches her. Waits for her hips to buck and squirm against his hand. He learns what she likes, learns what each of those noises that drive him wild, means. He doesn’t neglect a single part of her.
He said tonight was about her, but the way she clutches him like he’s her safety when she climaxes even harder than the last time, he knows that every other night after this one, is going to be hers for the keeping too. He’ll worship her for as long as she’ll allow it. Dates or no dates. He’d take whatever she gave.
The feeling that had been growing inside of him since they met was surfacing yet again, getting stronger every minute he spent with her. So much, that he was starting to figure out what it was.
Her breaths have barely steadied when she turns back to face him, burying her head in his neck and peppering him with soft kisses. He plants his lips against her forehead as he surrenders to the fact that he’s in deeper than he knows how to deal with what comes next in the beautiful chaos that is their entanglement.