He frowns in his sleep.
“Jay, bedtime, baby,” I whisper.
He inhales as he stretches and blinks, as if not knowing where he is.
I run my fingers through his hair. “Bedtime.” I smile softly.
I get up and turn off the lights and the television, and then he takes my hand and leads me down the hall to his bedroom. He brushes his teeth and gets into bed.
A few moments later, once I’m ready, I climb into bed beside him, and he pulls me into his arms. “Good night, sweetheart,” he whispers as he kisses my forehead. We lie cheek to cheek. There’s a closeness between us that I haven’t felt before.
“Good night.” I snuggle against his chest.
This night has been nonsexual . . . and normal . . . and weirdly intimate.
I may be addicted.
I wake to the feeling of strong hands holding my inner thighs apart. Jameson’s head is between my legs, and his thick tongue swipes through my sex. My head throws back, and my hands go to the back of his head. My body is pumping with arousal, so I know he’s been at it awhile. “Oh God,” I moan. “Good morning, Jay.”
He turns his head and kisses my inner thigh. “Morning.”
He bites my clitoris, and I close my eyes. Good God. He’s awake now and in all his glory. He continues to suck as waves of pleasure start to pulse through me. He pushes three thick fingers aggressively into my sex, and I wince. This is Jameson’s specialty—finger fucking me with such force that I orgasm before we even have sex.
I’ve never been with a man who can pleasure me in so many different ways.
He begins to ride me, his whole hand centered on the task. My legs are back to the mattress, and God. “Oh God . . . so good,” I breathe. The sound of my wet arousal echoes through the silent room as he works me.
This man is insane. Ten minutes ago I was dead asleep.
He bends and nips my clitoris, and I convulse as I come in a rush. My body lurches forward, and he pushes me back down. “Shh,” he whispers as he calms me. “Again,” he chants as his eyes hold mine.
“No.” I sit up in a rush and grab his shoulder and pull him up over me. We kiss as we fall back to the mattress, and my leg wraps around his waist.
Hell, what a way to wake up.
Our kiss turns frantic, and I feel his cock nudge my opening, and then he pauses.
“It’s okay. I’m on the pill,” I breathe as I hold his face to mine.
He closes his eyes for a split second, and then, as if unable to relax without a condom, he drags himself off me and goes to the bedside. I watch as he tears one open and rolls it on.
Then he’s back on me. He slides home deep in one swift movement. I cry out as my sex begins to spasm around his thick muscle. “Hold it,” he growls.
Fuck . . . how are you supposed to hold it? Like that’s a thing.
He looks down at me. His olive skin has a sheen of perspiration, his blue eyes are beaming, and I smile in wonder at the perfect specimen in front of me . . . inside me.
He widens his legs and goes up unto his knees and then lifts my legs in front of him by my ankles and begins to pump me—thick, heavy hits—and his jaw hangs slack as he watches the place our bodies meet.
I can see every muscle in his torso contract as he pushes forward. Goddamn . . . watching Jameson Miles fuck is the world’s best porn. He picks up the pace, and his body goes into overdrive. I scrunch the blankets beneath me as I feel myself build.
The sound of our bodies slapping together echoes through the room. His eyes close in ecstasy, and he moans as his body really goes to town. “I’m close,” I whimper.
“Hold it,” he barks as he pumps.
“Jameson.”
He grabs my legs and puts them to one side and together, and his eyes flicker with arousal as his pumps become slow and measured.
Oh . . . my man likes it tight.
I clench down, and his head throws back. I clench again, and he can’t hold it. He holds himself deep, and I feel the telling jerk as he comes deep inside my body. He empties himself, and then, knowing I can’t come in that position, rises over me and kisses me as we fall tender.
This is what I love . . . this is my favorite kind of sex with him. Gentle, tender lovemaking. He holds himself up onto his elbows and kisses me as his body gives me exactly what I need.
Him . . . I need all of him.
Our eyes are locked as something so beautiful runs between us. His kiss is tender, but it’s the look in his eyes that’s turning me inside out.
We’re falling for each other.
This is not casual sex; this isn’t even sex. This is the ultimate lovemaking.
“Jay,” I pant as my eyes search his.
“I know, baby,” he whispers. I grip his shoulders, and he holds himself deep, and my body contracts around his.
His lips take mine, and our kiss is slow and unhurried and everything I’ve never had.
He slowly finishes me and then drops to the mattress beside me and rolls me to face him.
We look at each other, and I’m overwhelmed with a feeling of closeness.
I stare at his beautiful face, and I smile softly. “I feel like—”
“Don’t.” He cuts me off.
“What?” I frown.
“Don’t ruin this.”
I’m at a loss by what he means. “How would I ruin this?”
“Don’t fall in love with me, Emily.”
What the hell? I stare at him. “Why not?”
“Because we’re not like that. Get that through your head. Right now.” He gets up in a rush and walks into the bathroom and closes the door. It shuts with a sharp snap.
I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling. I was going to say that I felt like that was the best alarm clock of all time.
Love was just an afterthought.
Chapter 15
I get out of bed and storm into the bathroom. I find him under the shower.
“For the record, Jameson,” I snap, “I was going to tell you that you should wake me up like that every day.”
He narrows his eyes in anger.
“It seems to me that the only person who’s thinking about love around here is you.”
He rolls his eyes as he soaps his groin.
His eye-rolling infuriates me. “So don’t turn this around and push me away because you are falling in love with me!” I don’t know what to say next, so I storm out. I grab my bag and head down to one of the other bathrooms to shower. I’m not getting in with him. Stupid jerk.
Half an hour later, I walk out into the kitchen to see Mr. Miles the CEO—gray suit, white shirt, and cranky controlled persona firmly back in place. “Are you ready?”
“Ah.” I look around. “I’ll just get my things.” I go into the bedroom and glance at myself in the mirror. I’m wearing his favorite outfit today, and he didn’t even notice. Well . . . poof to him.
Damn control freak is pissing me off.
I walk back out with my overnight bag over my shoulder. “Let’s go.”
His brow furrows when he sees what I’m carrying. “What are you doing with that bag? Just get it later.”
“I’ll take it to work with me. That’s fine.” My eyes hold his. “I have a lot going on this week.”
His jaw clenches as he glares at me. “Good.” He turns and walks out, and I smirk.