Haze - By Andrea Wolfe Page 0,42

tight." It sounded like it was a complaint as much as it was a compliment, as if that fact would prove to be too much for him.

His hand firmly squeezing my breast, he started to rock his hips back and forth, my back arching to urge him even deeper. Every time he tweaked my nipple, I shivered. All of the nerves in my body were firing together, victims of Jack's masterful efforts.

I moaned as he fucked me, my groans increasing in volume and ignoring the former quiet efforts of polite Effie. Every thrust went all the way to the hilt, his arms holding me tightly and forcing his length into the deepest parts of me.

Something told me that he was starting to lose it, a thought that absolutely killed me. And when his hand moved from my breast to my clit again, I knew I was about to lose it too. Hell, this felt so good it almost hurt.

I lost control and came, my pussy fluttering around him until he matched my own sensations. He was right there with me, twitching and groaning, clenching and crying out. Our bodies contorted together as we found that mutual climax, not wanting any of that beautiful pleasure to escape from between us. It stayed there for a short while longer and then disappeared much slower than it had arrived, an unusual conclusion.

"That was perfect," he whispered. "I really needed it."

"I know. Me too." I couldn't stop thinking about how badly I wanted to feel him come inside of me, feel his release with nothing between us. I wasn't ready for it yet, but I had never done it with anyone else, despite the fact that I was on birth control. It was one of those trust things, I supposed. He had opened up for me, so it seemed like the next logical step. For another day, I thought.

He pulled out and I immediately turned and met his lips with a long, passionate kiss, one that followed me back into a very peaceful sleep.

Chapter 8

I awoke the following morning to a slumbering Jack, his tousled brown hair spilling everywhere over the pillow. He was sleeping like a baby. As quietly as possible, I escaped the bed and lightly closed the bedroom door behind me after grabbing my robe from the floor.

The sunlight spilling in through the windows was absolutely gorgeous, painting the carpet with beams of golden light. It really was a new day; this was one signal that I couldn't misinterpret. I felt both refreshed and fresh, as if I were somehow both well rested and somewhat of a new person altogether.

Finding myself next to Jack's most comfortable chair in the world, I succumbed to temptation and sat in it.

"Holy shit," I said aloud. This was undoubtedly a chair made for sitting in. I turned on my side and still found it just as comfortable as I had sitting upright. Whatever he paid for the damn thing seemed totally justified in that moment.

I sat and thought in absolute comfort, totally at ease with the fact that Jack was still sleeping and not sitting beside me. We both had been through a rough day, but his was certainly a little different from my own. It's not that I didn't think guys could be emotional, because hell, Jack was walking, talking emotion. There was also the whole Timothy thing yesterday, which was unmistakably emotional as well.

So thanks to the last twenty-four hours, I was growing quite intimate with the brand new emotional man phenomenon.

My eyes traced along Jack's walls as I sat blissfully in that beautiful chair. His gold and platinum records weren't even hanging straight on the wall. The crooked angles started to bother me, but I managed to disarm my feelings of OCD, at least for that moment.

There was a light covering of dust on them; the gleaming sunlight brought the particles to the forefront. These poorly maintained relics were of huge significance, at least in my mind. I had no idea what it felt like to sell a half-million or a million-plus records. To me, it felt like the sort of accomplishment that you could die happily after reaching.

But what business did I have trying to say how he should feel about anything? It was his own emotion that made him talented, made him a force to be reckoned with. That's why he had this apartment and his private suite and probably a number of other things on top of that that