Page 44 of Rumours and Romance
I take a minute to figure out exactly what to say. I need to make sure she hears me perfectly. Slowly I lift my hands, taking in the way she follows my movement with a wary look in her eyes. I cup her cheeks, my thumbs stroking her soft skin gently. When she finally meets my gaze, I feel my lips turn up.
“You’re right. We can stop lying to everyone else. But I want you to know, I’ve stopped lying to myself as well. I want you, Mila. I don’t want to end our relationship, but I do want to end the charade and make it real between us.”
Chapter 19
Mila
Did he really just say that? I stare at Jackson, at those beautiful blue eyes that have the ability to heat me up. His hands are holding mine, and the connection is infusing me with such certainty, such joy, I don’t exactly know what to do. My heart feels like the Grinch on Christmas day, growing three sizes in an instant. This man, who wants the same things as I do, who makes me feel more than I ever have, wants me.
“Are you…Are you sure? You really want to…” I can’t formulate a complete sentence to save my life, and it turns out I don’t have to, because Jackson leans in and kisses me. But this isn’t the chaste, simple kisses we’ve been sharing since we ended the sexual part of whatever we had going on.
No, this is a kiss that promises so much more. His tongue is tracing the seam of my mouth and I open for him. His answering groan of pleasure sends tingles down my spine and I let go of his hands so I can thread mine in his hair. He lifts me out of my seat and guides me to straddle his lap, our mouths barely losing contact. My head slants to the side, pressing deeper into him. He’s plundering my mouth, and I don’t want this kiss to ever end. Slowly I become aware of other things. Like the fact that I can feel his cock through his shorts and the friction between my thighs as I rub shamelessly back and forth is making me breathless. Desperate need fills me. I need to feel him, to have him. For real.
“Stay,” he murmurs. “Stay with me tonight.”
I don’t answer, at least not with words. I lean back and peel off my shirt, exposing the blue lace bra I have on underneath.
“Mila,” Jackson growls, his hands coming up to cup my breasts. “Do your panties match?” The wicked gleam in his eyes tells me he has every intention of finding out and his deliciously gruff tone makes me shiver.
“You’ll see,” is my throaty reply.
His lips go to my collarbone, gently sucking and kissing his way up the column of my neck. I twist slightly, needing his mouth on mine like I need air to breathe.
“You’re mine. You get that, right?”
I pull back, to see banked heat in Jackson’s eyes. “Yes,” I whisper.
One word is all it takes to unleash him. It’s as if a light switch was hit the second we admitted things were real between us. Gone is the sexy but reserved Jackson. He was an incredible lover, attentive and giving, but the man roaming his hands and lips all over my body now is like an uncaged beast. He stands up with me wrapped around him, and stalks inside.
“Wait, the dog,” I protest.
He freezes, pivots back to the door, and barks out a command. “Milo. Come.” My dog trots inside, and he must sense now is not the time to disturb us because he goes straight to the couch, climbs onto it and curls up in a ball. Jackson carries me to his bedroom and lays me down on his bed, his hands running down my sides. Then with a voice that drips with lust, he says, “Your turn. Mila, Come.” That’s all the warning I get before he bends down and kisses a line down my stomach, reaching my shorts and making swift work of removing them. He pauses for a second, staring at my panties before looking up at me with a hot grin. “Matching. I knew it.” He peels them down slowly, his lips trailing his hands with some kisses pressed over my heated skin. I let my head fall back and close my eyes, ready for the pleasure I know he’s about to give me when that commanding tone is back.
“Open your eyes.”
I look down to see his face between my legs, and there’s more than just simple lust written on his face.
“I want to you to watch me. Watch me devour you, claim you, love you.”
I know it’s just a choice of words. He doesn’t really mean he loves me. But still, this is real now. This isn’t just two friends having casual sex. This is two people who share a real connection, with real feelings, making real love. The intensity of that realization hits me at the same time as his tongue hits my clit and together, the two make me cry out his name.
His hands grip my hips tighter, holding me in place as I start to move under his touch. He’s doing wicked things with his tongue, drawing circles around my clit, sucking it into his mouth until I’m panting.
“That. Whatever you’re doing. Keep doing it.”
His low chuckle vibrates against my sensitized skin, making me moan. When I feel a finger probing at my entrance, my hips arch up, inviting him in. He adds a second, stretching me, then he curls his fingers, hitting the perfect spot right away, like magic. He strokes back and forth, teasing me. I barely recognize the sounds coming out of my mouth, and his other arm comes up to lay across my stomach to stop my writhing and hold me in place. My breaths are coming quicker and quicker, my heart is racing, and my hands are holding his head tightly when all at once I detonate. My orgasm washes over me with all the subtlety of a tidal wave.
“Jackson. Jackson. Jackson. Jackson.” I’m chanting his name over and over as my body shudders through a release that holds all of the pent-up emotion, and lust, and need I’ve had building over the last few weeks. When it subsides, I slowly come back to earth and back to the reality of Jackson beside me, his hand drawing patterns on my bare stomach. He’s still wearing clothes, which simply won’t do. I muster up the energy to roll over and undo the button and zipper on his shorts.
“Mila, I need you.” His voice is hoarse, thick with emotion. But I shake my head and shift my body down to his side. I let my fingers dance over the ridges of his abs, grinning when I feel him tense up as I hit a ticklish spot. His body feels like my own personal playground and I’m finally free to play. As his rigid cock is freed from his clothes, my tongue darts out to lick my lips. Keeping my eyes on Jackson’s face, I position myself between his legs. I grip his thigh in one hand, feeling the coarse hairs and the bunched muscles. The other hand wraps around his thick length. My fingers just barely meet, and the memory of all of him inside me makes me shiver. I move in a few light strokes up and down, feeling the silky skin of his tip, and the ridges of his shaft.
“Fuck. Babe.” He’s clutching the sheets beside him, and I frown. I don’t want him to hold back. I bow my head and take him into my mouth as deep as I can. His hands come the back of my head, and I smile. That’s better. He starts to guide my movements, with the perfect amount of respectful control. I quickly remember what drives him wild, using my tongue to swirl around the tip in between long licks and sucks. I move one hand from his thigh round to cup his balls, playing with them gently, earning a long, low growl of pleasure.
“Come here.”
Suddenly two hands are lifting me up. I settle on Jackson’s hips, his cock nestled between the folds of my sex, his fingers digging into me. The fire in his eyes tells me everything. I bend down and kiss him, slowly tangling my tongue with his, pouring all of my emotion into this one kiss. He meets me stroke for stroke, our breath mingling together. Then he flips me onto my back, pushes my legs apart and thrusts into me in one movement.
“Oh God, yes,” I breathe, arching up into him. He captures one of my nipples in his mouth as his hips start to move.
