Jock Road (Jock Hard) - Sara Ney Page 0,80

I…I didn’t think we’d be screwin’.”

Nervously, I bite down on my lower lip. “Um. I did? I’m sorry, I just didn’t know? And I knew you wouldn’t because you’re a gentleman—”

I can’t even finish my sentence, because Jackson is rolling me on top of him, slapping me firmly on the ass and laughing. Loudly.

Loud enough to wake whomever is sleeping in the next room over.

“Gentleman? Darlin’, no one’s accused me of bein’ a gentleman in my entire life.”

Darlin’.

Ma entyer lie-ff.

He makes my heart race, this guy, with his playful banter and sweet talk—and that slap to my ass was icing on a scrumptious Jackson Jennings cake.

I set the condom on the bedside table when the light was turned off earlier, instincts telling me to be prepared, and I’m glad because the last thing I need is a baby. Sure, I’m on the pill, but those fail, and I don’t need any surprise pregnancies. I don’t need to be that statistically low number—you know, the one your gynecologist warns you about when they’re writing your prescription. One percent chance of still getting pregnant and blah blah blah.

This isn’t a romance novel, this is my life and his, and a baby at twenty-one wouldn’t be cute. God, he would think I was trying to trap him, and that would kill me.

The talk hasn’t ruined the mood; talking about sex and screwing hasn’t made his dick limp, thank God. In fact, Jackson looks more aroused than he did before, pupils dilated—and not from the dim light.

He palms my breast again. “I love your body, babe.”

Babe. He babed me and I didn’t hate it.

I always thought I would—literally roll my eyes when I hear my friends’ boyfriends say it. Babe. Babe. Babe.

Barf.

Except…I don’t hate it, not even a little.

He tears the condom open and I watch, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. Lick my lips in anticipation, though I’m kind of scared shitless.

We’re about to have sex and he’s never done it…

“Have you ever put one of these on before?”

“No. I’m a fuckin’ virgin, remember?”

“Yeah, but don’t some guys practice?”

Jackson laughs. “Some guys probably do when they’re younger, but I never did.”

In the dim light of his bedroom, I watch Jackson Jennings—a big, beautiful beast of a boy—set the condom on the tip of his penis and slowly roll it down. He sucks on his bottom lip in concentration as he does it, nostrils flaring.

I love that. So sexy.

When the rubber is entirely covering his, um, dick—our eyes meet. Somewhat bashful. Shy. Then I do the only thing I know to do; I lie flat on the bed, on my back, and motion him over so he’ll crawl on top of me.

Spread my legs when he gingerly covers my body with his. I drag his head down with the palm of my hand and kiss him soundly on the mouth. The kiss is deep, wet, tongues twirling in a sloppy tangle.

Jackson is hard, hanging stiffly between our bodies. His erection brushes my pussy but doesn’t push.

I spread my legs wider, ready.

Ever vigilant, his thumb finds the top of my clit and moves in slow circles while our tongues dance, the motion getting me soaked. Has me tossing my head back and presenting him with the column of my throat that loves lips on it.

He obliges at the same time he drags his cock back and forth over my best bits.

Reaching between us, I grip him with my entire hand, pumping leisurely to keep him aroused—as if I need to. Which I don’t, because he’s so turned on he can barely breathe normally. Labored. Rasping.

Harsh.

Yes, his breathing is harsh, like he can’t catch his breath and isn’t trying to. Sexy, sexy, sexy.

As a big boy himself, Jackson’s dick is obviously huge—not so big it’s intimidating, but bigger than the only guy I’ve ever had sex with. Naturally I expect it to hurt when he eases in, despite the fact that I’m lubed up from foreplay.

I slide his erection up and down, up and down while he watches me, tension gripping his entire body. Shoulders taut. Back rigid. Ass flexed. Thighs tight.

He’s frozen above me.

“You sure you want to do this?” I ask as gently as I possibly can, not wanting to spook him, not wanting him to change his mind and not…well, fuck me.

I want him to fuck me, so hard.

“Yeah, I’m sure.” Perspiration forms on his brow; I can see it glistening.

“You’re not going to hurt me.”

He looks skeptical. “But you’re