I could have curled up and died from embarrassment
His jaw locked into the place where I knew he was trying to contain some emotion, trying to leave my ridiculous comments alone. Suddenly, he pressed himself against me. I should have shoved him away, but instead, I gasped. I felt how hard he was, and my body seemed to know he belonged between my legs. Every part of me was magnetized toward him.
He must have seen his opening because he grabbed both of my legs to lift me up onto the counter. I automatically wrapped them around him.
“Do I feel unattainable?”
I bit my lip to stop from gasping again and rocked into him.
He pulled back just a little to run one of his hands up my thigh. We both watched that hand as goose bumps trailed its path.
I wouldn’t ask him to stop. My breath came too fast, my mind too hazy with his scent all around me, and my body too languid after the run. An inch further and he slid under the leg of my shorts, dipping his fingers into my panties.
“This, Sweet Sin, doesn’t feel like we’re friends. This feels like you’re wet for me.”
I whimpered and he didn’t stop. Anyone else who cared about me would have stopped in that moment. Rome always stopped to make sure I was okay with this or okay with that. My friends walked on egg shells to maintain my well-being. They always watched and padded any sharp edges for me, made sure that even if I wasn’t protecting myself, someone was.
Jax didn’t do that. He plunged headfirst with me into the sharpest object called oblivion. Then, we’d each swim around in a lust-filled wonder, holding our breath because the second we gulped for air, the toxicity of our past would fill our lungs. He didn’t protect me at all. He let me risk drowning in the heartbreak that would inevitably ensue again.
He rubbed my slickness up onto my clit with his thumb and jammed two fingers inside me. My head fell back as the climax that normally took so long to build started to rush faster than ever to the finish line.
He dragged his other hand across my collarbone and then wrapped his fingers around my neck, bending it to one side. That sensitive part that Rome had licked was now exposed to him. “He touches you like he knows every sensitive spot on your body.”
“Jax,” I whimpered.
“Didn’t you tell him all of those spots are mine?” he asked as he languidly stroked me.
I couldn’t control how quickly I climbed toward my climax. My emotions got involved, and they pulsed through me more than they ever had with Rome.
Before I could answer, he devoured my neck. He’d bite it and then lick it better and then suck on it so hard, I moaned from the pain and the pleasure.
My mind spun and spun as I rode the hand that fingered me faster and faster.
The way Jax touched me and made me feel shot through my blood and reached all the way to the tips of my fingers and my toes. I tingled all over, shivered and trembled at his touch. Every flick of tongue and every movement of his body on mine set off sparks in me. He set off a reaction in me everywhere, even in the one place he should have never been able to set off a reaction again: my heart.
When he dipped another finger inside me and squeezed my neck just enough to demonstrate his control over me, my body erupted in stars and fireworks.
Spiraling toward my finish should have been exhilarating. It should have been rewarding. I should have felt satisfied and relaxed. But coming down from it, watching him watch me, seeing his cerulean eyes searching mine as though they lapped up all my secrets, I felt exposed.
I shoved him back from me. “You need to leave.”
“Peaches,” he said low, as he stood there, still aroused and ready for me. That thin sheen of sweat was back, and I wanted to rip his shirt off and lick it from the chest that was heaving.
“L.P.,” I threw back, singsonging the nickname to lash out at him. “We’re supposed to be friends. And we aren’t really even that.”
He grumbled something I couldn’t make out but I didn’t care.
I was done playing nice and tiptoeing around the subject. “Are you still going to visit him?”
I didn’t look away when I asked. I watched his every movement. The way his body stilled, then his muscles bunched and his breathing evened out.
His eyes turned cold when he answered with one word. “Yes.”
It was all I needed to hear. I shoved off the counter. “When?”
His lips thinned, “This weekend.”
“Will you explain why?”