Once we’re outside, he sets me on my feet and grips my hips to steady me. When my gaze meets his, his mouth is on mine, plying me with a toe curling kiss that has me gasping for air. I grip his arms to hold myself steady, giving back every push and swipe of the tongue he blesses me with.
“I don’t have a car,” he says, his mouth still on mine.
“I’ll drive,” I say, stepping away and yanking on his arm as I pull him toward my bike. Grabbing my helmet, I slip it on and my gaze slides over to Jake who is watching me with his mouth slightly agape.
“A motorcycle?”
I grin. “Chicken?”
His head falls back as he belts out a hearty laugh. “Get on, baby. I have plans for that smart mouth of yours.”
A shiver of excitement courses through me at his words. God, I can’t wait to see what those plans are. Swinging a leg over the seat, I start up the motorcycle and wait as he slips on behind me. His broad back presses against my chest and his arms slide around my waist, hugging me tight to his body.
Maybe I shouldn’t do this. Jake’s thumb finds its way under the hem of my shirt and slowly strokes across the bare skin of my belly and the doubt I had felt again disappears.
Jake directs me toward his hotel, and thankfully it’s only a few blocks away. We make it there in record time and the entire drive, his thumb circles and strokes the skin just below my navel. The gesture is simple and small, but by the time we reach the swanky hotel, my senses are on overdrive and I know that my tiny little joke for panties are soaked with my arousal.
Jake slides off the seat behind me and holds out his hand in a gentlemanly gesture. I take it and step off the bike, my eyes never leaving his, my pulse skyrocketing at what I’m about to do. Together, we walk into the hotel and I avert my eyes from the concierge, worried about the shame she might see deep in my soul. The shame of a married woman about to immerse herself in someone that is not her husband. Immerse herself in Jake.
Stepping inside the elevator, Jake tugs on my hand and pulls me closer to him, pressing the button for the top floor. As the door slides shut, he turns his body toward mine and presses his lips gently to the sensitive place below my ear. “Mmmm, you smell fucking delicious, Chrissy.” His lips slide further down my neck, his teeth nipping at my skin. “Do you taste as good as you smell?”
My heart batters in my chest like the hyper-speed beat of a hummingbird’s wings as my eyes roll back in my head at the sensation of his mouth and teeth on my skin and his deep voice rumbling in my ear. The ding of the elevator pulls me back to reality and with his arm around my waist, Jake leads me down the long corridor to our room.
Once the door closes behind us, the brave sensual girl I’d become fades, and insecurity begins to take hold of me with sharp, black claws.
You’ve put on a lot of weight. He will be disgusted when he sees you without these clothes. And when was the last time you rocked a man’s world? You’re not sexy. Who are you kidding?
“Hey,” Jake says, bending his knees until his eyes are level with mine. He takes my chin in his hand. “Stay with me, gorgeous. Get out of that head of yours and be here, with me.”
I take in his stare and realize that he isn’t just seeing ‘Chrissy’, but he’s seeing me. The real me. The one that would never usually do something like this, but needs it so fucking bad. The one that hates her body. That feels unattractive and insignificant more often than not.
With a mighty shove, I push the negative thoughts from my mind and reach for Jake. His lips crash into mine with a kiss that feels like fire, burning away the last few self-deprecating thoughts that still linger in the shadows.
“Jesus,” he growls as he turns, slamming my back into the wall hard enough to make me gasp. His mouth covers mine again, his hands coming down to grip my ass. My head spins as his lips trail down my neck with fluttered kisses and nips.
“Jake,” I moan, wrapping one leg around his hip. I can feel his arousal and my breath hitches at the idea of what’s beneath his artistically fitted jeans.
Jake rolls his hips, sliding his hardness along my most sensitive place again and again and I struggle to remember to breathe as the pleasure builds inside me. I gasp as his hands come up and tear at my shirt, tugging and loosening it until my breasts are out in the open, resting high on the top of my corset-style shirt.
I feel a momentary sense of shyness as he takes them in, but that disappears when his eyes flash with arousal and his lips suck in one nipple and his thumb drags across the other. His hands are calloused and rough, but his hands bring me only pleasure.
I writhe against the wall, needing more. More contact. More friction. More Jake. And then his hand cups my sex. He presses the side of his hand against the seam of my jeans and slides it back and forth, gliding over my clit, again and again, causing starbursts and fireworks to explode behind my closed eyes.
“Please,” I gasp into his ear.
“Tell me what you want,” he whispers. “Tell me how to make you scream my name.”
I can’t catch my breath. My head rolls from side to side as his tongue swirls around my nipple and his hand strums against my clit.
“I need to feel you.” I tug at the hem of his shirt and pull it up under his arms. “I need your skin on mine.”
Jake rips his mouth from my breast and has his shirt over his head in a flash. But he doesn’t stop there. He tosses the shirt behind him and then reaches for mine. He tugs and he pulls but it doesn’t come off.
“In the back,” I tell him, barely paying attention as I drag my fingers along the ridges of his chiseled chest. “Untie the laces at the back.”
“Fuck,” he growls.
I gasp again as he spins me around and presses my front against the wall. His nimble fingers scamper up and down my spine, tugging at the laces and pulling until I feel the air on my skin.
Eager to press my chest against him, I make a move to turn, but Jake stills me with a hand on my shoulder. With the other hand, he works at the buckle of my belt, followed swiftly by the button of my jeans.
When he tugs them off, I don’t move, but my entire body trembles as he steps back. I’m naked before him now. Not a thread of clothing to hide behind. And I can feel the heat of his stare.
“Bend over for me, gorgeous,” he says, trailing a finger along my spine.
He doesn’t have to tell me twice. Jake’s hand is still on my shoulder, pinning that part of me to the wall, but his free hand lands on my waist as he pulls my ass backward, sticking it out and exposing my excitement.
“Don’t fucking move,” he growls, and his hand disappears.
I can’t see him. I can’t feel him. But I can hear him. I listen as he wrestles out of his own jeans and drops them to the ground. Without meaning to, I move—just a little—just enough to squirm and relieve a bit of the heat building in my core.
I wait for him. I need him to fill me and ravish me and take me for his own, even if it is just for one night.
His nose hits my core at the same time his lips suck on my clit. His face is buried between my legs and I’m helpless to his touch. The sounds he makes and the rapid flicking of his tongue has my knees growing weak, but still I stand, moaning and rolling my hips, pressing back and fucking his face in a way I’ve never known was possible.