chest. “So you’re saying I just need to get plowed more often so that it doesn’t feel as good for you?”
“Only if you’re being plowed by me. Or a vibrator. Anything else is against the law.”
“What law?”
“My law,” he mutters. He thrusts deep and we both make a strangled noise.
His chest is covered with a sheen of sweat. He hasn’t increased his pace at all, and it’s driving me crazy. I wrap my arms around his broad shoulders and stroke his back. His mouth latches onto the side of my throat as his hips move lazily. It’s almost unbearable. I want him to go faster, but I also never want this to end. I reach between us and lightly rub my clit.
That’s when he stops moving altogether.
“Are you kidding me?” I wail. “You’re going to lie here inside me without moving?”
“Only for a bit. Just while you get yourself close.” He watches my face as I stroke myself. “You’re goddamn beautiful.”
I swallow. Heat swims in his green eyes as they bore into me. It’s insanely intimate and yet I can’t break the eye contact. I rub harder and we both hear my breathing quicken.
“That’s it,” he encourages. “Fuck yeah, that’s it.”
I moan, trying to rock my hips.
He splays a big hand over my belly to still me. “Not yet.”
So I keep stroking with his cock lodged inside me. I feel so full. Our gazes are still locked. He’s so sexy I can’t look away. He licks his lips, and that’s what sends me flying over the edge.
“I’m coming,” I choke out, and suddenly he gives me what I’ve been begging for this entire time—deep, fast strokes, and holy hell the orgasm is like an explosion of pleasure.
The rest of the world disappears. It’s me and Jake. Body and soul. He’s plunging into me so hard. And when he comes, he honest-to-God bites my neck, a husky, blissed-out groan vibrating against my skin, and that one beautiful moment makes this entire night worthwhile.
28
Brenna
“Where have you been?”
I jump like a spooked horse when Dad suddenly appears behind me. I was at the kitchen counter waiting for my coffee to brew, and I hadn’t even heard him come in.
I turn to find him frowning at me. I frown back. “I texted you last night that I was staying with a friend in Boston.”
“And when I asked what friend, you didn’t text back.”
“Because you didn’t need to know more. You knew I was safe.”
“Is that a joke? Just because you stayed with a friend doesn’t mean you were safe. Who was this friend? Was it the boy who was here last week?”
I sigh. “You promised you weren’t going to do this anymore.”
“And you promised you weren’t going to be reckless.”
“How am I being reckless? Yes, sometimes I drink with my friends or go dancing. Sometimes I party—with your players, by the way.”
“As if that makes it better?” Anger flashes in his eyes. “The last time you went out with a hockey player, you almost destroyed your life.”
I experience a jolt of guilt. Dad would go apocalyptic if he knew I was helping Eric last night. Turning my back to him, I open the cupboard and grab a mug. “That was a long time ago, Dad. Five years, to be exact.”
“And yet you’re still sneaking around and staying out all night.”
“Dad.” I spin around. “Look at me.” I wave my hands up and down my body. “I’m in one piece. I’m alive. I’m not even hungover, because I didn’t drink last night. I stayed in Boston because of the storm and the power outages. I didn’t feel comfortable being out on the roads.” I slam the mug down in the middle of the counter. “I did the responsible thing and I’m getting shit for it. Do you to realize how ridiculous that is?”
“Really? So you were acting responsibly when you drove to Westlynn in the aforementioned storm and power outages to rescue Eric Royce from a crackhouse?”
I freeze. How the hell does he know about that?
As guilt climbs up my throat, I inhale slowly and remind myself that I have nothing to feel guilty about. I’m not obligated to tell my father every detail of my life.
He waits for me to say something. When I don’t, he spits out an expletive. “Louisa Royce called me last night. She didn’t have your cell phone number, and she wanted to thank you again for getting her son home safe. And here you are telling me you’re not