Feeling Hot
Page 37
A thrill shot through her. The thought of straddling his big, powerful body and having this big, powerful man at her mercy was hot as hell.
Heart pounding, she sat up and waited for Cash to sheathe himself. When he got on his back and beckoned her, she climbed up with no hesitation, encircled his thick shaft with one hand and brought it to her core.
Their eyes stayed locked together as she lowered herself on his cock. When she was fully seated, they let out simultaneous moans.
Shockwaves of pleasure seized her clit but she stayed motionless, keeping him trapped inside her as she bent down to kiss him. God, his mouth was pure heaven, his lips firm, his tongue demanding. They shared long, drugging kisses, each one hotter than the last. And still she didn’t move. She felt Cash’s heartbeat thudding against her br**sts. His breathing grew ragged, coming out in sharp bursts that she swallowed with her lips as she continued to kiss him.
“You okay?” she teased when he cursed against her mouth.
“No.” Sweat bloomed on his forehead. “I need you to start moving.”
Jen squeezed her inner muscles.
Cash swore again, loud and tortured.
“Like that?” she asked sweetly.
“Among other things.”
She squeezed again.
He groaned.
“You know, this is really fun,” she remarked. “You’ve got this vein in your forehead that looks like it’s about to burst.”
“That’s not the only thing about to burst,” he grumbled.
“I thought we were practicing the art of patience.”
“I thought you were going to f**k my brains out,” he countered, those blue eyes blazing with pure agony.
She laughed. “Nobody said anything of the sort, cowboy. I was only instructed to ride you.”
Cash dug his fingers into her hips, bringing a sting of pain. He tried thrusting upward but she locked his thighs between hers and made a tsking sound. “Quit being a pain in the ass, McCoy. If you don’t let me do my thing, I’ll climb right off you and make myself come in private.”
He immediately stilled.
Jen grinned. “That’s what I thought.”
And then she started to move. In earnest. Lifting off that rock-hard c**k then slamming down on it. Over and over, fast and furious, until the couch springs protested to the ferocity of her movements. Cash reached up to play with her br**sts, pinching her ni**les, rolling them between his fingers. His hips came up to meet her. Their breathing became labored, choppy, as she rode him hard.
The throbbing between her legs took a critical turn. “Touch my clit,” she said, surprising herself with the bold order.
His lips formed a sensual smile. “Yes, ma’am.”
He placed his palm on her navel, callused fingers circling her belly button before traveling south.
Jen exploded the second he touched that sensitive nub. As a wave of sheer sensation slammed into her, her mind splintered into a million pieces and black and white dots assaulted her vision. Crying out, she grinded into him, vaguely aware of his hoarse shout as he climaxed.
It took her a while to recover this time. Sagging into Cash’s chest, she just lay there and waited for her heartbeat to regulate and her breathing to steady.
Why hadn’t anyone ever told her that sex could be this good?
And why did she get the feeling that three weeks in Cash’s bed wouldn’t be nearly enough?
She lifted her head and peeked up at him. “Again,” she said with a groan. “We need to do that again.”
His guttural laughter tickled her forehead. “I think I’ve created a monster.”
Chapter Seven
As far as Cash was concerned, Sundays were sacred. Sundays meant watching football, drinking beer and eating junk food. And he never strayed from that routine, not if he could help it.
So why was he finding it impossible to focus on the television screen?
For the hundredth time in the last hour, his gaze moved away from the TV and landed on the blonde across the room. She had a pair of earbuds on and was listening to music on her iPod. She hadn’t voiced a single complaint when he’d laid down the Sunday football law. Instead, she’d spent the past hour transferring photos from a very expensive-looking camera to her laptop.
He had no idea what was up with him, why he felt the strongest urge to pull up the chair next to Jen’s and find out what she was working on. To spend the day sitting and talking. Maybe steal some kisses.
Talking. Stealing kisses.
What was he, a teenaged girl?
This need to get to know the woman he was sleeping with, to be friends with her, was disconcerting as hell.
Curiosity had him grudgingly rising from the couch. Jen’s blue eyes flicked up at his approach and she pulled out her earphones. “What’s up? Did your team lose or something?”
“No.” He rounded the table and flopped down beside her. “I was curious about what you’re working on.”
She blinked in surprise. “Oh. Nothing really. I’m just uploading some pictures.”
Cash inspected the Nikon on the table. “Shit, that camera is hardcore. When you said you liked messing around with photography, I figured you had one of those point-and-shoot cameras.”
“I used to, but there’s no fun in that.” She shrugged. “It’s more satisfying adjusting the settings yourself and capturing something unique.”
“Can I see some of your pictures?”
Now she looked uneasy. “Why?”
Heart pounding, she sat up and waited for Cash to sheathe himself. When he got on his back and beckoned her, she climbed up with no hesitation, encircled his thick shaft with one hand and brought it to her core.
Their eyes stayed locked together as she lowered herself on his cock. When she was fully seated, they let out simultaneous moans.
Shockwaves of pleasure seized her clit but she stayed motionless, keeping him trapped inside her as she bent down to kiss him. God, his mouth was pure heaven, his lips firm, his tongue demanding. They shared long, drugging kisses, each one hotter than the last. And still she didn’t move. She felt Cash’s heartbeat thudding against her br**sts. His breathing grew ragged, coming out in sharp bursts that she swallowed with her lips as she continued to kiss him.
“You okay?” she teased when he cursed against her mouth.
“No.” Sweat bloomed on his forehead. “I need you to start moving.”
Jen squeezed her inner muscles.
Cash swore again, loud and tortured.
“Like that?” she asked sweetly.
“Among other things.”
She squeezed again.
He groaned.
“You know, this is really fun,” she remarked. “You’ve got this vein in your forehead that looks like it’s about to burst.”
“That’s not the only thing about to burst,” he grumbled.
“I thought we were practicing the art of patience.”
“I thought you were going to f**k my brains out,” he countered, those blue eyes blazing with pure agony.
She laughed. “Nobody said anything of the sort, cowboy. I was only instructed to ride you.”
Cash dug his fingers into her hips, bringing a sting of pain. He tried thrusting upward but she locked his thighs between hers and made a tsking sound. “Quit being a pain in the ass, McCoy. If you don’t let me do my thing, I’ll climb right off you and make myself come in private.”
He immediately stilled.
Jen grinned. “That’s what I thought.”
And then she started to move. In earnest. Lifting off that rock-hard c**k then slamming down on it. Over and over, fast and furious, until the couch springs protested to the ferocity of her movements. Cash reached up to play with her br**sts, pinching her ni**les, rolling them between his fingers. His hips came up to meet her. Their breathing became labored, choppy, as she rode him hard.
The throbbing between her legs took a critical turn. “Touch my clit,” she said, surprising herself with the bold order.
His lips formed a sensual smile. “Yes, ma’am.”
He placed his palm on her navel, callused fingers circling her belly button before traveling south.
Jen exploded the second he touched that sensitive nub. As a wave of sheer sensation slammed into her, her mind splintered into a million pieces and black and white dots assaulted her vision. Crying out, she grinded into him, vaguely aware of his hoarse shout as he climaxed.
It took her a while to recover this time. Sagging into Cash’s chest, she just lay there and waited for her heartbeat to regulate and her breathing to steady.
Why hadn’t anyone ever told her that sex could be this good?
And why did she get the feeling that three weeks in Cash’s bed wouldn’t be nearly enough?
She lifted her head and peeked up at him. “Again,” she said with a groan. “We need to do that again.”
His guttural laughter tickled her forehead. “I think I’ve created a monster.”
Chapter Seven
As far as Cash was concerned, Sundays were sacred. Sundays meant watching football, drinking beer and eating junk food. And he never strayed from that routine, not if he could help it.
So why was he finding it impossible to focus on the television screen?
For the hundredth time in the last hour, his gaze moved away from the TV and landed on the blonde across the room. She had a pair of earbuds on and was listening to music on her iPod. She hadn’t voiced a single complaint when he’d laid down the Sunday football law. Instead, she’d spent the past hour transferring photos from a very expensive-looking camera to her laptop.
He had no idea what was up with him, why he felt the strongest urge to pull up the chair next to Jen’s and find out what she was working on. To spend the day sitting and talking. Maybe steal some kisses.
Talking. Stealing kisses.
What was he, a teenaged girl?
This need to get to know the woman he was sleeping with, to be friends with her, was disconcerting as hell.
Curiosity had him grudgingly rising from the couch. Jen’s blue eyes flicked up at his approach and she pulled out her earphones. “What’s up? Did your team lose or something?”
“No.” He rounded the table and flopped down beside her. “I was curious about what you’re working on.”
She blinked in surprise. “Oh. Nothing really. I’m just uploading some pictures.”
Cash inspected the Nikon on the table. “Shit, that camera is hardcore. When you said you liked messing around with photography, I figured you had one of those point-and-shoot cameras.”
“I used to, but there’s no fun in that.” She shrugged. “It’s more satisfying adjusting the settings yourself and capturing something unique.”
“Can I see some of your pictures?”
Now she looked uneasy. “Why?”
