For a few seconds, vulnerability tears through me. This is not my MO, not the position I’m usually in.
But when I look at him, all I see is a man who wants to make it good for me.
I whisper, “Stone.”
As he presses against me, he looks up. “Yeah, J?”
“Look at me,” I say, because I do feel vulnerable, but I want to experience every second of this with him and me connected.
Our eyes lock. “No place else I’d rather look. Ever.”
With his gaze holding mine, I let a big breath fill my entire body, spreading relaxation and desire at the same time. He pushes a little deeper then lets go of his dick, wraps his hand around my length, and strokes up with a nice, tight grip that makes me shudder.
The pressure is intense. I burn as he goes deeper. I grit my teeth for a second.
“You okay, J? Do you need me to stop?”
I shake my head. “Don’t you dare.”
I slide my knees up higher, giving him more room. That does the trick. He sinks deeper into me, stroking me as he goes.
I breathe in and out, taking him. When he bottoms out, his eyes go glossy with desire.
He shudders—a full-body tremble that seems to move in a wave through him.
It’s gorgeous and breathtaking at the same time.
His shoulders shake. He mutters, “So good,” over and over.
I grip his ass, pull him tighter, and let all of these new sensations fill me at once—the physical that’s so much more.
That’s become everything I’ve longed for. Everything I’ve wanted.
And now I get to have that kind of love.
Big and true and passionate.
38
Stone
I am in heaven.
Officially in dirty, filthy heaven.
That’s how it feels to slide deep into my man’s beautiful, carved body.
To look at Jackson and move inside him.
He’s hot and tight as he clenches around me. I unleash a feral groan because it feels spectacular to fuck him, and to fuck him bare. It’s so damn good that I tremble, shaking all over as I go deeper.
He breathes out hard, his lips parting beautifully. A bead of sweat slides down his chest. He lets out a long, delicious murmur. “Mmmmm . . .”
That sound alone gets me going. I push a little farther, pump a little harder. “Fucking you is amazing, J,” I rasp out.
He grabs my ass harder, pulling me deeper into him. I love that he wants it like this. That he wants me as hard and deep as he gives it to me.
“But it’s better if we kiss,” he growls, grabbing my face, yanking me close.
He smashes his lips to mine, and holy hell. Magic sparks in my body as he kisses me like he owns me.
He does own me. He owns my pleasure.
He owns my heart. He owns my soul.
As we kiss, my hand slides down his chest, over his abs, on a tantalizing track for his cock. I take it in my fist.
He groans louder, grunting, thrusting up against me. “Why don’t you fuck me harder and jerk me off?”
I heed the call, swiveling my hips, working my man the way he works me.
Deeply, relentlessly, ruthlessly.
And hell, does it work.
Jackson is a hot mess.
He is a moaning, groaning mass of muscle and sweat and sin breaking apart beneath me.
He arches, bowing his back, grappling at my arms. “Gonna come any second. Gonna come so hard.”
Pleasure coils in me, gathers in my balls, then intensifies as he shoots all over my hand and his chest. It’s gorgeous and filthy. And it sets me off. I fuck him so hard I lose my mind and come too, in a spiral of bliss.
As I lie there on him, panting, his release smearing my chest, his arms wrap tighter around me, pulling me close. “I’m going to make you so happy every day,” he says in a beautiful bedroom promise that I have no doubt he’ll keep.
“You already do,” I say.
In the morning, neither one of us sneaks out. We leave and get breakfast downstairs like two lovers in Las Vegas do after a night of epic passion.
Our love is no longer a secret. It’s no longer one time only. It’s every time, and this morning feels like it’s going to be the start of every day for the rest of my life.
Ever since I felt the first flicker of attraction to another person, I was open to both men and women. Now, I feel wild attraction for one person. One person who happens to be a guy.
A guy I love with my heart, mind, and body.
When our food arrives, I thank the waiter then take another sip of my chai and give Jackson a pointed look.
“So, are you finally going to tell me?”
His brow furrows as he drinks his coffee. “Tell you what?”
I roll my eyes. “Your plans? Job plans? Hello? You did quit last night, you sneak.”
He laughs and sets down his coffee. “I had a moment yesterday with Cruz where everything became crystal clear. And I talked to the guys. Cruz and Terrence,” he says, gesturing to the front of the restaurant where Terrence stands guard.
“And the moment was discussing how awesome it is to work with me?”
He doesn’t laugh. Instead, Jackson blows out a long stream of air, like he’s about to tell me something hard. He scrubs a hand over his chin. “Yeah, about that . . .”
Nerves prick across my shoulders. “That doesn’t sound good.”
“You might be needing an entirely new group of bodyguards.”
My eyes bug out. “What? You’re all defecting? Like, en masse?” I rub my ear in case I didn’t hear him right.
“We are. We’re starting a company in Los Angeles. A bodyguard training company. We want to teach new men and women how to do the job, and we want to do it in LA. Terrence wants to see his wife more, and Cruz is missing out on his little girl growing up. It’s hard for them on the road, Stone.”
My shoulders sag. “Those guys are awesome. All of you are.”
He gives me a small smile. “They’re giving notice today, but they told me I could tell you. We’ll help and make sure you have detail as you transition, but I think this is going to be great for all of us. And for you and me, since I can do what I love and be free to be with you.”
I snap out of my momentary funk.
Jackson is right. This is great news. I am happy for all three of them. For me, and for them.
But right now, this isn’t about me. It’s about three good men doing right by their loved ones.
I slide out of the booth, move to Jackson’s side, drape an arm around him, and drop a kiss on his cheek. “I’m happy for you, J. That’s awesome.”
A smile curves his lips, and his cheeks flush. He speaks softly. “You’re so affectionate.”
I squeeze his shoulder. “Does that surprise you?”
“No. Just getting used to it.”
“Get used to it, J. You quit your job for me, and I told the world I loved you for you.”
He quirks a brow. “Well, that was kind of for you too.”
I laugh. “Yes. For me and you. And I want to hear more about these plans. I’m stoked for you.”
I let go of his shoulder, bring my breakfast bowl to his side, and dive in. We eat as he tells me about their plans, what they want to do with their new business, how he sees it taking shape.