After Us (Next Generation #6) - J.M. Walker Page 0,18
just trying to be a gentleman.”
“I don’t want a gentleman.”
He leaned his forehead against mine. “I know. And I’m having a hard time here.”
“You’ve never been a gentleman before.” And I had loved it. He could read me like an open book. He knew what I liked, took from me what he wanted and returned it tenfold.
“You complaining?” he asked, running his hands up and down my thighs.
“No. Never.” I gave him a small smile.
“I should take a shower and clean myself up.”
“Okay.” I slid off his lap. I tried not letting the disappointment rush through me, but I missed him. That single orgasm wasn’t enough.
Heading into the kitchen, I got the coffee brewing before I made my way to the bathroom. The sound of the shower running stirred something inside of me. It sparked an ache, a need, but I knew that I couldn’t press Jaron for more until he was good and ready to take full advantage of the situation. I wasn’t sure why all of a sudden, he was being a gentleman. It messed with my head and I didn’t like it.
Quickly checking on Brynn, I saw that she was still sleeping, so I headed to the bathroom and stripped along the way. Throwing my clothes in the laundry hamper, I quietly opened the door and shut myself into the room with Jaron.
The black shower curtain shielded him from me, but I could still imagine every drop of water sliding down his hard body.
“You’re making it difficult to say no, Piper,” he said, his deep voice rumbling through me.
“Then why are you?” I was standing there, naked, offering my body and soul to him.
“I’m trying to be nice.”
I scoffed, pushing away from the door and making my way to the shower. Pulling back the curtain, I stepped into the shower with him. Water rained down over his hard body, the large tattoo of the Hell’s Harlem Club logo on his back, moving with every breath. The black skull grinned, its eyeless sockets peering into me. “You don’t have to be nice.”
He turned around, his gaze roaming down the length of me. “It’s been a long time for me.”
“It’s been a long time for me too,” I reminded him. “I’ve dreamt of you. Fantasized about what would happen when you were finally home. I thought you’d end up…”
“What?” He reached out, pinching my chin and tilted my head back. “You thought I’d fuck you last night? After being away from you, you thought I would take advantage of the situation because you were offering up your sweet pussy to me?”
“I just want you again. I want you to touch me. Hold me. Kiss me. Make love to me.”
Jaron released me, turning around and pushing his head beneath the water. The stream rained down over him, covering every inch of the hard lines of his body.
“Jaron.” I touched his back, sliding my hands up the length of him.
He shivered. “I can’t make love to you. Not yet.”
“Why not?” I sounded desperate but, in all reality, I was. I was so damn desperate for him, it hurt. Every inch of me hurt the longer time wore on where he wasn’t inside of me.
“Because you deserve more than me just fucking you. You deserve to be pampered, savored, fucking devoured.”
“Then do that.” I grabbed his arm, spinning him around. “But I don’t need hearts and flowers. You know that.” I cupped his cheek, his beard tickling my palm. “I just want you. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
He covered my hand, giving my palm a gentle nip. Questions danced in his eyes. A war battled through him. It was a moment of should I, or shouldn’t I? I didn’t care that he had just gotten out the day before. We needed lots of moments and this was one of them. We had to take this one day at a time, I knew that, but it didn’t mean that sex was off the table.
When I reached out to touch him, he grabbed my hand, linked our fingers, and pushed me up against the wall.
He leaned down, brushing his mouth along the shell of my ear. “The things I want to do to you should be illegal.”
“Tell me what they are.”
He lifted his head, something flashing behind his eyes.
Just when I thought he was actually going to listen to me, a phone rang, snapping through our intense moment.
“Fucking hell,” he grumbled, placing a soft peck on my forehead. “I should get that.”