Page 50 of Body Check

His grip tightens in my hair, and it’s that simple sensation that tips me over the edge.

My entire body lights up with pleasure, bright white lights bursting behind my eyelids.

As I come down, Jason’s kiss gentles, his lips tethering me to this plane of existence. Once the aftershocks fade, he pulls his fingers free. I collapse against his strong chest, my eyes fluttering shut as I try to regulate my breathing.

His strong arms wrap around me, and before I know what’s happening, I’m airborne. My legs wrap around his waist as he carries me into the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him.

He lays me out on the center of the bed, pausing only to drop his pants and briefs before he crawls onto the bed.

But he doesn’t stretch out beside me.

No, he stops halfway up the bed, spreading my legs. I start to close them, but he forces them open, gazing at me.

And when he dips his head, tasting me for the first time, my eyes nearly roll back into my head. He settles my legs over his shoulders, and my hands slide into his hair. It’s as soft as I imagined, the strands the perfect length to grip.

Jason isn’t shy, his touch sure as he devours me. His fingers slide home inside me, intent on wringing every ounce of pleasure from my body.

And when I break for the second time, the satisfaction on his face mirrors mine.

He finally joins me against the pillows, and he pulls me into his arms, resting my head on his pecs. The coarseness of his chest hair abrades my cheek in the best possible way.

I’ve been single by choice for a long time. It’s hard to find a man who isn’t intimidated by my career or the people I hang out with. And it’s even more difficult to find someone who can abide by my schedule, the constant travel wreaking havoc on a relationship.

It’s easier to focus on one night only situations. But those don’t typically lend themselves to cuddling, to being held in a man’s arms.

Jason’s legs tangle with mine, his body wrapped around me.

As I recover, I trail my hand over his chest, down his abs, and further to his cock, standing at attention and digging into my hip. I start to think that maybe this doesn’t have to be a one night only thing.

The connection between us is electric. He knows it just as well as I do. Why should our jobs dictate who we sleep with?

His hand drives into my hair, twisting the strands around his fingers as he holds me close to him. The way he kisses me… He knows we only have tonight. So, why am I worrying about a nebulous future? I should enjoy what we have now. No need to borrow tomorrow’s trouble.

My hand wraps around his cock, giving him a firm stroke. He’s hot and hard in my hand, smooth as velvet, with sticky pre-cum easing the glide of my strokes. I use my other hand to cup his balls, rolling them.

He shudders, his hands mapping over my skin, the swell of my breasts, the curve of my hip. He’s touching me like he can’t get enough, and I have to admit, the idea goes to my head a bit. I haven’t felt desired in a long time. I haven’t felt desirable.

I don’t regretted being a surrogate, but for the last year, I lost sight of who I am. Between all the hormones before the implantation and then the pregnancy weight, it’s taken a while to feel like myself again. To feel like a woman and not just an incubator.

But now? There’s no doubting the want in his eyes, in his touch.

My body did something incredibly powerful, and yes, it doesn’t look the same as before. I have stretch marks and battle scars. My hips are wider, my breasts fuller. I can’t take it back.

And I’m not the same as before. I’m irrevocably changed.

Jason trails his thumb over my cheek, his eyes searching mine, and I realize my hand stilled on his cock when I was lost in thought.

“You with me?” he murmurs.

“I am now.”

“We don’t have to do this.” He’s so fucking earnest, like his cock isn’t throbbing in my fist. “If you’re not into it…”

“That’s not what it is. I was—it doesn’t matter. I’m here. I’m focused.” Giving him a sultry smile, I resume stroking him. “Do you have a condom?”

He moves my hand off his cock. “Maybe we should talk about whatever’s bothering you.”

“It’s not bothering me.” But taking the hint, I roll away from him, intent on getting out of the bed. If we aren’t having sex, I definitely don’t want a heart-to-heart conversation with him.