Page 61 of One Time Only (One Time Only 1)
And I’m almost there as my orgasm crests.
But before I fall, I leave him with one last filthy thought. “You can have me any way you want.”
“Yes,” he growls, like an animal, and I am done.
Pleasure barrels down my spine. Sparks sizzle over my skin. And a whirlwind of bliss drags me under.
I explode on his chest, my come covering his pecs.
Seconds later, he’s slamming me down on his hard cock, coming once more with one of the most feral groans I’ve ever heard.
And I love them. My God, do I ever love those noises. The endless pants, moans, and satisfied sighs.
And I love, too, the way he gentles after sex, how he rubs one big hand up my back. He’s rough and he’s tender at just the right times in just the right ways.
He runs his other hand down his chest, through my release, and brings it to his mouth, sucking it off each finger. It’s so ridiculously sexy, like everything about him.
“Let’s get cleaned up,” he whispers. “Take a shower with me, and we’ll get in bed.”
I showered a couple hours ago, but this man has gotten me pretty dirty, so I say yes.
A few minutes later, we’re under the hot stream of water, and I clean off his chest, washing away the remains of my orgasm.
He sighs contentedly as I run the soap over his strong pecs, then down through the grooves of his abs. He’s cut everywhere, firm everywhere, and I take my sweet time enjoying the feel of him as I lather up his arms, his shoulders, his back.
He gives me a soft smile, finishes up, then rinses off before he takes the soap, washing me all over, like he craves it.
Like he needs to take care of someone.
It’s part of who Jackson is—like how he brushed the hairs off my neck in the barbershop. Like how he asks about my life, my dad, my brother. How he always wants to make sure I’m good with what’s going on, whether it’s the position he wants to put me in, or the picture a fan wants to take.
But I see other caring sides of him too.
The way he values other people. Like his colleagues, Cruz and Terrence. How their respect matters to him. How he shows it to them in return.
How my opinion matters too. How he wants to keep an open mind with me, to listen if I do want to top him someday. I don’t know if the roles matter to me. I’m good with everything we do. But the fact that he’d be open to it says a ton about him.
I like his protective nature as well. How he watches out for me all the time. How he seems to crave that responsibility.
He looked out for us in the elevator too. Not wanting the world to see what’s just ours.
And yeah, part of me wants everyone to know I have it bad for him. But mostly I want to keep him all to myself, to live in this secret corner of my life where it’s just the two of us.
Because I do have it bad for him. I like all these sides of him so much. And most of all, I like how I can be myself with him.
Nothing about this moment feels like a hookup.
But I know it has to be.
Even when we get in bed. Even when he ropes his big arms around me.
I know it can only be sex, so I don’t understand why I can’t just let that be.24JacksonMy boss is a cover hog and a starfish.
I’ve never known anyone to take up so much of the bed.
I wake up wedged into a sliver along the edge of the king-size mattress. Stone occupies 89.9 percent of the real estate, sprawled out on his stomach, long legs and muscular arms everywhere.
My gaze drifts over his body, cataloging the ink on his skin, the toned lines of his back, the shape of his thighs.
Not a bad sight to wake up to, even in my wafer-thin section of space.
The light plays on his body, rays of morning sun illuminating his tanned skin. A quick glance at the clock tells me it’s eight thirty on Saturday morning. I never sleep this late, but I went to bed past two. Terrence is probably on duty now, and that means I’ll need to let him know what’s going on. But knowing the guy, I doubt he’ll be surprised, or bothered.
Stone has a busy day today—press appearances and a lunch meeting with his label, since the producers are in town. I’ll wake him up in an hour to make sure he doesn’t miss anything.
I glance at my sleepover companion again. He’s already tangled in a new position. He’s on his back now, his hands parked behind his head, a grin on his face, his lips fluttering softly.
