Jersey Six - Jewel E Ann Page 0,67
fought the gravity of his touch as he dragged his eager lips and warm tongue down her neck to her breasts, eliciting a drunken moan from Jersey as her fingers dug into the sides of the cream upholstered chair.
“This…” Ian kissed lower, his tongue dipping into her navel “…is what makes this the best bikini design ever.” At the same time, he untied the sides of her bottoms, peeling the front away from her body with his teeth and a wicked grin.
She wrinkled her nose, erasing the smile from his face.
“If you don’t want me to do this …”
She shook her head, swallowing a ridiculous amount of pooling saliva. “It just looks bad because of the red bumps.”
His gaze homed in on her bared, slightly bumpy flesh. After a slow and silent inspection, he turned his head and kissed the inside of her thigh, just above her knee. His gaze locked with hers again. “Tell me it’s okay.” He kissed higher.
It was easy to despise and even kill a man who sexually abused young girls. It was much harder to think about taking the life of a man who cared about a woman’s emotional scars, who asked permission to kiss her in places she might not want to be kissed.
But Jersey did want Ian to kiss her there. It scared her just how much she wanted Ian to kiss her everywhere, touch her deeper than she’d ever wanted any man to touch her. “Yes …” She inched her legs open a little more and closed her eyes as he kissed her intimately. The warmth of his tongue brought her eyes back open, needing to watch him. A shadow, ten or so feet behind Ian, caught her attention.
Chris.
He stood statuesque at the bottom of the stairs.
Even with her new glasses, it was too dark to see his eyes. What were his eyes doing? Why was he standing there watching them?
Then it hit her—water. Chris always needed one last drink of water before bed. But he didn’t move toward the sink or the refrigerator. He just stood stone still.
He watched the enemy spread Jersey’s legs, his mouth pressed to her most intimate parts, humming his pleasure.
He watched Jersey’s mouth fall open while her right hand clenched Ian’s hair, encouraging him.
It was a game.
Chris told her to play it … he told her how to play it.
He couldn’t be mad that she played it so well.
And she couldn’t call a timeout just because Chris felt thirsty again.
Ian would be livid with Chris for watching them. He’d be pissed off at Jersey for letting it go on so long … so she said nothing. She let her lonely friend watch them.
Jersey used her other hand to slide her top completely off her head, giving Chris a better view of her.
She arched her back and moaned when Ian made her orgasm.
Her gaze flitted for a brief second to Chris when Ian stood on his knees, digging a condom out of his pocket.
Jersey returned her attention to Ian as he shoved his jeans and briefs down just enough to release his erection and roll on the condom.
She kissed him passionately as he pulled her naked body closer to his.
She bit the tight muscle along his shoulder as he guided her legs around his waist and drove into her.
Her fingers dug into his back while leaving her gaze on Chris’s idle body the entire time. Maybe for that one night … she wasn’t only for Ian’s eyes.
A game … just a game.
A game she enjoyed too much.
A game with a lonely, sexually deprived spectator.
Ian stilled on his final thrust, and Jersey closed her eyes for a few seconds. When she opened them, Chris was gone.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Jersey punched, kicked, jabbed, and grunted at the hundred-pound punching bag hanging in Ian’s workout room. The wine wore off by eleven. Ian joined her in the shower around midnight. She peeled his limbs from her naked body around two. Stared at the ceiling until three. Slipped on a sports bra, shorts, and her boxing gloves ten minutes later.
“Can’t sleep either?”
She turned toward Chris’s voice. He stood in the doorway, wearing sweats and holding a glass of water.
“I see you’re finally quenching your thirst.” She rammed her fist into the bag again.
“Are we really going to talk about that?” He moseyed around the room, inspecting the expensive exercise equipment.
“No. We’re not.” Jersey grunted with another jab.
“Listen …” He sat in the seat of the rowing machine, with no intention of rowing. “I