Page 57 of Jagger
“Do you see how hard you make me, Angel? I almost came in my shorts just from tasting you. So fuckin’ delicious.” His voice was gruff, his eyes blazing, as he continued to stroke himself. I raised up until I could prop myself on my elbows, giving me a better view of the gorgeous man pleasuring himself for me. He closed his eyes as his breath hitched, and I watched as he reached down and gave his balls a tug, then cupped them and rolled them gently in his hand. His other hand continued to grip his cock tightly, stroking up and down and adding a little twist that I knew he loved when he got to the head.
His eyes popped open, and he ground out, “Pull your shirt up. Let me see your tits.”
He gave a low guttural groan when I slid the fabric up, cupping my breasts and rolling my nipples between my fingers. His eyes were glued to my chest as he erupted, striping my body with long, white spurts of cum.
He gave a shuddering sigh and dropped down to lie beside me, as I lazily rubbed his cum into my skin. His gaze sharpened, and he shot me a wicked grin.
“Keep that up and I’m gonna make you late for work, Angel.”
I chuckled and pushed his hand away as he reached between my legs to cup my pussy. Rolling off the bed while doing my best not to smear cum all over the sheets, I glanced over my shoulder at him, still lying there in all his glory. His hair was adorably mussed from my fingers running through it, and his beautiful cock, still half-hard, rested against his thigh.
“Don’t tempt me,” I teased, before crossing the bedroom to head for the shower. I put a little extra sway in my step and heard Cole’s groan from behind me.
“You’re not helping, woman,” he complained in a voice that bordered on a whine. I tried to contain my snicker. He really did have a thing for my ass.
“Oh, you pitiful thing. Don’t worry, I’ll enjoy taking care of you tonight.” I called over my shoulder, then closed the bathroom door behind me with a wide grin as I heard him groan again.
Fifty minutes later, I had managed to shower, slap on minimal make-up, throw my still damp hair into a messy bun, and put on one of my favorite dresses, a deep red, wraparound style that did wonders to balance out my more bottom-heavy figure. I took a couple of extra minutes trying to decide whether to wear my practical low-heeled sandals, or the black peep-toe pumps that I knew I’d regret wearing later. Of course, the pumps won.
While I’d been getting ready, Cole had gotten dressed and cleaned up the kitchen, and even surprised me by getting my lunch ready for me.
“Wow,” his eyes widened as I rounded the corner from the hallway into the kitchen. His gaze traveled over me from head to toe, and he let out a whistle that made me blush. “You look incredible, Miss Walsh.”
“Thank you, honey,” I replied with a kiss to his cheek. He held out my insulated lunch box, which I accepted with another kiss to his cheek.
“Turkey on wheat with mustard, some carrot sticks with dip, and the last of the grapes you had.”
“Perfect. You’re a sweet man, Mr. Morgan.”
He rolled his eyes at me. “Yeah, well, don’t spread it around.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it, my bad-ass biker. After all, you have to maintain your reputation.”
He pulled me in for a quick kiss and copped a feel of my butt before stepping back and handing me my purse and messenger bag.
“I have a meeting with our liquor distributor at four o’clock, but I should be done by five. Hawk is on duty tonight, so maybe we can go for another ride on the bike and grab some dinner.”
“I’d love that.” I was surprised at how much I’d enjoyed the ride last night. Cole had been right when he’d said that riding helped him clear his head.
“OK, Angel. Set your alarm and let’s get out of here. You’re gonna be cutting it close, and I have to run by my place to shower and change before I head to the bar.
I made it into the school with five minutes to spare, my orgasm-induced good mood giving way to a tight ball of dread in the pit of my stomach the minute I walked through the doors. I took a second to pop my head into Michelle’s office to see if she had any updates, but she hadn’t heard anything since her message to me last night.
I went through the drop-off process on autopilot and held it together until I was taking attendance in the classroom and got down to Anna’s name on the list. My voice broke, and I covered it by pretending to cough, then took a sip from my water bottle to stall long enough to get myself under control.
The rest of the day went much the same way. Not even my students – who normally made me smile many times every day – could shake me out of my melancholy. Michelle stopped by my classroom late in the afternoon to let me know that Malik had just told her that Anna’s stepfather still hadn’t been apprehended yet. He appeared to be on the run, and the police hadn’t had any luck tracking him down so far. Anna’s mother was being held in jail until her arraignment tomorrow morning, where she would be charged with several counts of abuse and neglect, as well as drug possession with the intent to distribute, based on items found in their apartment during their search. The stepfather was facing the same charges, or would be at least, whenever he was located.
She did have a bit of good news at least. Anna’s paternal aunt had been cleared to take temporary custody of her, so that she didn’t have to stay in foster care. I had to blink back tears as a sense of relief hit me. I could only hope that the aunt would be able to support Anna on the journey of healing she was going to be embarking on. I suspected that the emotional and psychological damage done to Anna would prove to be even worse than the physical injuries she’d endured.
It was a relief when the dismissal bell rang, and I felt my tension ease slightly once the last few parents had pulled up to the curb to collect their kids. Brad and Sarah, the other kindergarten teacher, walked over to me as we turned to head back into the building. Brad slung his arm over my shoulder and tugged me into his side as we made our way up to the entrance.
“Are you hanging in there, Molly?” Sarah asked kindly. I nodded without saying a word, but I knew she understood exactly what I was experiencing. She’d had a similar incident with one of her students during my first year of teaching, and I remembered how much she had struggled for a long while after that.
“Come on, Moll. I’ll help you get your stuff gathered up so you can get out of here. You have a bottle of wine and a hot man waiting for you,” Brad said with a waggle of his brows and a sly smirk.
That prompted a smile from me because he was absolutely right. Cole was meeting me at my apartment, and we were taking another ride on his bike. I’d found it to be an amazing experience, and it had indeed helped clear my head last night.
Thirty minutes later, I pulled into my parking space and hurried up to my building, snickering to myself as I saw the security door propped open again and my downstairs neighbor carrying in his groceries. For his sake, I hoped he was finished and had the door closed again before Cole arrived, otherwise he’d probably get an earful from my over-protective biker. Once in my apartment, I hurriedly pulled my hair back and braided it, then changed into a pair of dark jeans and a T-shirt. Cole knocked on my door as I was pulling my ankle boots on. I opened the door and was treated to the sight of my sexy, wind-blown man, wearing a crisp, white T-shirt under his cut, well-worn jeans that rode low on his hips and clung to his thighs like a lover, and the heavy black boots that he always wore. His scruff was getting a little thicker than he normally wore it, almost as thick as the beard as Rome wore. I backed up as he crossed the threshold and he reached for me, pulling me into his arms as he kicked the door closed behind him.
