I didn’t make it back into bed until almost dawn, long after JT had kissed me goodbye and left me to my work. Exhausted but satisfied, I barely took the time to pull his t-shirt off before sliding into the sheets next to him. He didn’t even stir when I curled up against him, laying my head on his chest. But then I fell right asleep and stayed that way until I was roused by this wake-up call—one that seems like it’s about to turn X-rated.
JT his hands are lower now, tracing the backs of my thighs with his fingertips, then returning to my ass, where he gives each cheek a gentle squeeze before starting all over again. By the time he’s on a third pass, I’m about to crawl out of my skin from wanting.
He tugs the bedcovers away and crawls over me, straddling me right at the tops of my thighs, and the weight of him there only turns me on more. I let out a vaguely embarrassing moan when he leans forward to work the space between my shoulder blades, and not just because that part feels amazing. By shifting his body, he also happens to press the hard length of his morning erection squarely against me. I try to work my legs a little wider but he doesn’t allow it.
“You gotta stop moaning like that,” JT says. “You said you get sore when you paint for a long time, so I’m trying to take care of your body in a way that doesn’t involve me being inside you. But you’re making it hard.”
“I noticed,” I say, hiding my grin in the pillows. I try to lift my hips up, just to prove my point.
JT grabs me by the waist with a frustrated grunt, but he doesn’t push me down. If anything, he rocks his own hips forward. I respond with a whimper, fighting against his hold but JT uses all of his weight to press me into the mattress. If that’s supposed to be a deterrent of some sort, he’s way off base, because that only has me imagining how good this would be if he was offering up rough thrusts from this position, my legs barely spread as he works us both to orgasm.
That thought is enough to make angle my hips up as much as I can. JT uses one hand to press down on my back as the other yanks over one side of my panties, laying a sharp swat on my exposed skin. I yelp, but it’s just the sound of me asking for more. JT grips my flesh in his big hands and kneads roughly, then slides two of his fingers between my legs.
It doesn’t take him long to figure out how much I’m already enjoying this because he groans and starts to tease me with long, slow strokes.
“You’re testing my patience, baby. Here I am, trying to be good and you’re rubbing this beautiful ass against me and doing everything you can to open these pretty legs up. You know if I let you do that, I won’t be able to hold back.” He drops his voice a notch. “And then you’ll just have to take what I want to give you.”
I nearly come right then, just from what his voice and his words are doing to me.
“God, that mouth of yours,” I mutter. “You’re this good guy, but then when we’re like this, you can be so dirty.”
JT trails a line of kisses up my spine, ending with his lips against my ear.
“I’ll always give you what you need. Always. You know that, right?”
I close my eyes, grateful that I’m still face down in a pile of pillows because if he could see my face, he’d know how much he’s getting to me. Because I do know that he’ll always give me what I need. The only problem with that is, I can’t let him. Not when I have to figure out who I am without a man, and know that I can take care of myself first. So denying what JT could give me is my only defense mechanism at this point. I hold my breath, searching for a way to answer him without wrecking what’s left of my safeguards.
“Prove it.”
I hear his breath catch and I freeze, wondering if that was the wrong thing to say. Then I feel him wind my hair around his fist, giving the tangled locks a gentle tug as he sets his mouth against the shell of my ear.
“Turn over and I will.”
Lust shoots through me at the broken, desperate, demanding way he says it and when he releases my hair, I roll over onto my back as fast as I can. He grabs a condom off the nightstand as I yank my panties off. He strokes himself a few times once the condom is on, leaving me on the bed to watch him as his steady gaze traces over every inch of my naked body.
“Now isn’t the time for it, because my brain shuts off when I’m this close to being inside you—but we should talk about going without these.” He gestures to the condom. “I want to feel you. Just you, with nothing between us.”
Heat rushes through my limbs and almost without thinking, I arch my back, pushing my breasts forward. JT smirks, tweaking one of my nipples with his thumb and forefinger.
“I think you like that idea. Just look at these nipples, your little buds all high and tight. Does that get you wound up, thinking about the way it would feel?”
All I can manage is a jerky nod. Why the idea of that makes me wild, I have no idea. I’ve never gone unprotected before, because as my history with guys has proven, monogamy can’t be counted on. But JT might different. Something about the way he carries himself and the things he says, tell me that if he said he wanted commitment, I could trust him to follow through on that. And just thinking about going unprotected with him is enough to make the space between my legs grows even achier. The velvet-soft skin of his hard cock sliding across my thighs, my belly, my clit, teasing me until I beg for it? That sounds like something I want to experience, at least once.
My eyes dropped closed, but I feel the mattress dip as JT crawls over me, bracing himself by using one hand near my head.
“Look at me, Anya.” When I do, the hunger in his eyes makes my head spin. “Ready?”
My mouth goes dry at that one little word, a question that should be so easy to answer. Yes, that’s all I need to say. But right now, that word won’t come out because this doesn’t feel like some temporary fling anymore. Not with JT’s blue eyes fixed on me, asking if I’m “ready” in a way that sounds like it’s about more than just sex. Instead, it sounds like he’s asking if I’m ready for him.
And, no, I’m not ready for that.
I can’t be. Being ready for JT would be too much for me to handle, especially when I’m barely ready for starting over and taking care of myself. Because JT is too good, too right, and altogether too much. He’s the equivalent of hitting the lottery, winning the Super Bowl, and finding a cure for cancer—all on the same day.
JT says my name again and I manage to nod, knowing this is as close to ready as I’ll ever be. He presses inside slowly, seating himself deep with a long groan. His thrusts are unhurried, working us both higher until the pressure inside of me is more than I think I can take. Then he snakes a hand between us, circling the pad of his thumb where I need it most. A hairsbreadth more pressure to my clit and my orgasm breaks—in heady, powerful waves—coming from a place inside that I didn’t know existed. JT follows me right over the edge, coming with one last jerky pitch of his hips.
Minutes later, it’s nothing but weighted silence around us and all I can hear is the thundering of my own heartbeat. A prickling sensation erupts over my skin, making me feel more than just naked, but exposed, too. JT must notice because he stars to trace his fingertips along my forearm.
“Tell me what you want for breakfast. Anything. Just name whatever it is you want and I’ll make it happen.”