Just Do It.
Chapter Sixteen
The oven heated to 375 degrees. Ryn did too. Tomato, oregano, and basil filled the air. A bag of Romaine lettuce waited by the sink to be cleaned and chopped into a salad. The cracked window welcomed the soothing yet dramatic tones of the Japanese wind chime on her back deck, dancing in the breeze. There was the compression bra issue again, but his magic touch managed to draw them out of hiding. The dirt and grime from a long day of cleaning clung to her body, and the shivering fear of everything left her trembling. If she’d had a tail it would have been between her legs.
The problem? He turned her on. Her thoughts couldn’t stop her body from feeling so reckless. Resisting was far more painful—impossible—than submitting.
“My boobs look like pancakes and I’m not well groomed in certain places.” The words were out. It was as much a relief as an embarrassment. The truth felt like a baby in the womb: innocent and destined to come out.
Jackson smirked and she pressed her lips together, hiding her grin. She loved the invisible string between his smile and hers and how they played off each other.
“This is going to be fun … so much fun.”
“Sex?”
“Making it my mission to show you how sexy you are.” He kissed her before she had a chance to argue. Each stroke of his tongue controlling and demanding as his hands curled around the waist of her yoga pants.
She tugged the button and zipper to his jeans. He pulled away, leaving her mouth begging for more as he peeled down her pants until she stepped out of them. The flush of her cheeks intensified at the realization that her panties could not have been any less sexy. They looked like hand-me-downs from her grandma. It had been a busy week and the laundry fell behind. Before he could make a good inspection, she slid them down and wadded them in her hand.
He grinned, looking down at the bunched nude cotton she fisted. When his eyes shifted to hers, she maintained a neutral look as if to say, “There’s nothing to see here.” There was no way to hide the fact that she removed her underwear in one quick, desperate move. It had been far from graceful or indiscrete. Jackson just stood there waiting for her to do something with them.
Leaning toward him, eyes locked to his, she reached behind her and cracked open the refrigerator door just enough to toss her panties inside before leaning back against it like it never happened. She made a mental note to burn all her undergarments and replace them with rigid underwires and ass-floss panties.
“I need you to hurry up.” She grimaced, locking her knees to keep her legs from shaking. “I’m naked from the waist down and completely coming apart inside.”
Their mouths crashed. He didn’t give her another chance to speak or even form a coherent thought. Moisture pooled between her legs until she felt it drip like lava down her thigh. Her legs pressed together in mortification.
He slid two fingers between her wet folds, stopping her motion. She moaned while he pressed his body firm to hers, as if he wanted to feel her sounds vibrate between them. The only thing sexier than him—which was basically everything that could possibly be sexy—was his physical desire for her.
He. Wanted. Her.
It took a moment in the heat of distraction for that to sink into her brain. When it did, all dignity evaporated and she widened her stance. Yes, she widened her stance. It may not have seemed like much to him, but for her it represented a brazen move. It said, “I need as much of you as I can possibly fit inside me, NOW!”
Three. Three fingers fit nice and snug. His tongue made languid strokes up her neck with his teeth teasing her skin. When his hand stopped moving, she raised onto her toes and lowered back down. For a fleeting moment she felt embarrassed by the desperateness of riding his hand, but when his palm grazed her sensitive clitoris it no longer mattered. As long as he didn’t stop kissing her, touching, needing her.
“Oh … God …” Her eyes rolled back in her head. An orgasm approached the precipice. “Wait!”
As he pulled his hand away, her eyes flew open. Did she dare tell him she hadn’t finished? Half the blood in her body had converged between her legs, like water against a damn. A painful case of pink balls.
Pulling a condom out of his pocket, he grinned. The words teetered on the tip of her tongue. Jackson Knight embodied a godly specimen. However, she’d never reached an orgasm from penetration. That confident grin said he’d be the first, but Ryn had her doubts.
Her teeth made a death grip to her lower lip as he pushed his jeans and briefs down. Steadying herself with one hand on his bare chest, her other hand rested over her heart. She didn’t feel it there until he rolled on the condom and shifted his eyes to her.
His signature take-charge demeanor paused for a moment. He peeled her hand from her chest, inching it towards his face. She looked up as he pressed his lips against her palm, closing his eyes for an eternal second that stopped the progression of time … and her heart.
When he opened his eyes, she felt the pull of a black hole sucking her into something so unknown it sent chills racing along her skin. He guided both of her hands to his neck then slid his beneath her butt and lifted her up. Within a breath he impaled himself inside her … all the way.
She gripped his thick, dark hair and screamed into his neck, muffling her string of curse words. He paused, but only until she silenced long enough to draw in a quick breath. Then he reared back and plunged in again.
Another cry.
Again and again, he repeated the slow rhythm until her cries morphed into moans. Then he picked up the pace—really picked up the pace. Her back threatened to break against the refrigerator door as glass on the inside rattled along with the ceramic jars on top.
After a few minutes the most unexpected thing happened. That abandoned orgasm? It came back to life, building to a mind-numbing intensity with each thrust.
“Harder!” That came from the woman who possessed Ryn’s body because she had never said that during sex, even when that’s what she wanted.
Jackson’s mouth found hers again, and every inch of his body brought unexpected pleasure to hers. The pain in her back vanished as all feeling gathered in one single spot. The spot he’d angled his pelvis to hit every. Single. Time.
“Yes … yes, there … there … there!” she yelled through a never-ending orgasm, the first with a man inside her.
The drain of energy made it hard not to collapse until he finished. They raced in tandem and she just wanted to stop peddling. Instead she held him tight, contracting all her muscles until he groaned on a final thrust, stilling for a few seconds before his body completely relaxed against hers, keeping her pinned to the refrigerator.
His sultry breaths blanketed the skin along her neck in ragged succession. If he’d wanted to stay inside her forever, that would have been fine by her. Once he completely shattered her vagina, which happened in the first three thrusts, they fit together quite nicely.
Jackson lifted his head just enough to move it from her shoulder to her forehead. Rolling it slightly side to side against hers, he grinned. “I’m out of practice.”
That made front page news because if what just happened was a result of him being out of practice, then she was in trouble. Epically huge trouble.
“Can you stand?” He kept his forehead against hers.