Jake (California Dreamy) - By Rian Kelley Page 0,38
to be taking her so crudely.
“Don’t stop, Jake. Please don’t stop.”
Her fingers bit into his hips and she pumped against him.
He thrust again, watching emotions play across her face. He saw battle and bliss. No pain.
“Are you sure?”
“Sure. Definitely sure.” She increased the tempo, and Jake was lost.
He swallowed her pleas for more in a deep kiss, pressed his thumb to that tight bud above her folds, and mated with her in a frenzy of time and need.
Later, Jake sat at a mess table staring at his cell phone. It’d been seven hours since he’d made love to Ivy and he was still unsure about how they’d come together that last time. It was too fast . It reminded him of the emotions he dueled with between deployments, when time was limited and developing a relationship was nearly impossible. He didn’t like it.
But Ivy had. She’d come apart in his arms in a matter of moments, drenching him with
her satisfaction. Then she had gotten out of bed with him, stood naked before him as he shrugged into his clothes, and then kissed him in that sweet spot behind his ear.
She was a tease, but she always came good on it. The thought made Jake smile. And she hadn’t scuttled behind her defenses as he’d feared she might in the light of morning, when sexual need was satisfied.
Nor had she said good-bye to him, as he had feared would happen after she’d gotten what she’d wanted. He had asked her, “See you Saturday?”
“Absolutely.”
“The dinner cruise?”
“If we must.” She had put on a pout for him.
“I insist.”
“I’ll be wearing a dress that will make you wish you hadn’t.”
He had laughed and drew her close, holding her for a moment with her head tucked under his chin and her body flush against his.
He had promised to call her.
But now he was hesitating. What if, as the day progressed along with the distance between them, she had begun a withdrawal to safer ground? He primed himself for the possibility, knowing he’d have to wait until the weekend to launch into damage control.
A failed marriage had made her skittish. That, along with an upbringing that did not
inspire happily ever after. He had his work cut out for him if—no when—she realized her heart was as involved with Jake as her body.
And he didn’t doubt this. She had been generous with her attention and her permissions. But she had also stared into his eyes completely unguarded, vulnerable and trusting. Those moments were fleeting, and almost always when she was on the edge of orgasm and staring at the possibility of it. She had shied away from him emotionally when she’d regained control.
He pressed his thumb to the icon of ivy she had programmed into his phone on Sunday. She answered on the second ring. Her voice was thin, breathy, and Jake’s body responded with an all-out assault.
“What are you doing?” he demanded. He heard and regretted the edge in his voice.
Ivy laughed. “I’m a cowgirl without my steed,” she offered and Jake was slayed. He was stunned by his own laughter, which was low and intimate, but the throbbing in his cock became painful. He tripped back in memory and was crouched at the side of Ivy’s bed, her taste full on his tongue while she stroked her swollen nipples, drawing out the climax he’d just given her.
He groaned and looked around the mess hall. There were a handful of men and women several tables away, lingering over a late lunch, talking amongst themselves, erupting in a laughter that covered Jake’s lowered voice.
“You’re putting a hurt on me, Ivy.”
“I can heal you, Jake,” she assured him.
He didn’t doubt that. Jake had left her bed this morning with a sense of well-being he
didn’t recognize, never having felt it before. It’d taken almost the entire drive to his place to figure it out. Ivy gave him balance, zing, rightness.
“I’m sitting in mess right now with a hard-on my grandmother wouldn’t miss without her glasses.” He’d be staying put for awhile. “Tell me what you’re doing. And this time spare no details.” He’d have to remember to resume their vacation swimsuit talk on Saturday. Hell, he decided, he’d even ask her to model that barely-there black bikini. “Where are your hands, Ivy? Where are you?” He imagined her on her bed, the sheets still twisted from their love-making and smelling of their sex.
“Ah, Jake—“
He heard her breath hit the back of her throat, her voice thin to a whisper.
“Are