A Lie for a Lie (All In) - Helena Hunting Page 0,36
I even manage to work on my thesis paper. His internet reception is far superior to what mine was, so I’m actually able to get quite a bit done . . . all things considered. As the days on the calendar count down to his impending departure, everything that doesn’t involve spending time with him takes a back seat.
A few days before he’s supposed to go home, RJ changes his plans. My ticket is open ended, and he doesn’t have any obligations until the middle of July, so he suggests that he stay longer. My heart skips a few dangerous beats at the thought of more time with him. I’m so attached to him already, and this is only going to make it that much harder when we have to leave. But I’ll take a bruised heart in exchange for more time, and he delays his departure so we both leave closer to mid-July.
Two weeks before we’re supposed to fly back to Seattle, we run out of condoms. It’s not really a surprise, considering how quickly we’ve been going through them. We’re in the kitchen, making coffee and toasting bagels, me in my favorite uniform—one of RJ’s flannel plaid shirts—and him in his boxer briefs.
He reaches over me, erection poking me in the hip as he grabs two mugs from the cupboard above my head. He sets them in front of me, moves my hair aside, and presses a wet kiss to my neck. He follows that with the gentle scrape of teeth.
“RJ.” It’s more moan than warning.
“How am I supposed to resist you, especially when I know there’s nothing under that shirt.” His fingers dip beneath the hem and skim along bare skin. I bat his hand away, spin to face him, and put a palm on his chest. Not that it’s much of a deterrent, since I hum in appreciation instead of pushing him away—and brush my thumb over his nipple. In the short weeks RJ and I have had to explore each other’s bodies, I’ve discovered that his nipples are a hot zone. So are his neck and the V of muscle at his hips, leading to the hottest hot zone of all.
He grabs me by the waist, picks me up, and deposits me on the counter. His palms curl over my knees.
“It’s been, what, two hours?” I drag my nails down the side of his neck and relish his low groan.
“Two hours too long. I’m going through withdrawal.” He puts pressure on the insides of my knees, a silent request to let him in.
I spread my legs, my appetite for him as voracious as his is for me. “We need to go to town.”
“We will, but breakfast and orgasms first, and not necessarily in that order.” RJ slides his warm, rough palms up my thighs, biting his lip as he pushes the flannel up, exposing me. I’m already wet. It’s pretty much perpetual with RJ. “Fuck, Lainey.”
“Not until after we go to town.” The statement comes out a little breathless—but also with conviction. I internally pat myself on the back for being responsible.
RJ rests his forehead against mine. “I could just slip it in there for a couple of strokes, like two or three. That’d be okay, right?”
I snort a laugh. It’s definitely not a becoming sound at all. And it turns into a moan when RJ pulls his boxer briefs down and rubs the head of his erection along the inside of my thigh.
“I told you we should’ve gone to town yesterday,” I murmur, half-entranced by the way he keeps rubbing the head along the crease in my thigh, up one side and then down the other, over and over again.
“You feel so good.” He circles my most sensitive skin, and I moan. “Just two strokes bare, Lainey, please.”
The toaster pops behind me. “The bagels are ready.”
“Fuck the bagels.”
“That might hurt.” I suck in a breath as he drags the head of his erection down, parting my lips, passing my entrance. “One stroke. In and out. That’s it,” I say before I fully consider the ramifications.
RJ’s eyes flip up to mine, and his chest rises and falls. His gaze drops, and so does mine. “You’re sure?” He’s right there, hand shaking, erection kicking in his fist.
“Once. One time.”
The head slips in, both of us look down, and I clench around him. It’s such a terrible, wonderful idea. He pushes in another inch on a low groan. “God, Lainey, look at you.” He frames my sex