In Your Corner
Page 71
“Shhh. You’re safe. Let me hold you.”
So I bite my tongue and snuggle into his arms, and I pray he can keep the fear at bay.
We lie in blissful silence for all of three minutes, and then…
“Fuck.”
Hovering on the verge of sleep, I murmur into his chest, “You swear too much.”
“Baby.” He pulls me up so I am lying flat on top of him, his unbelievably ever-hard erection pressing against the juncture of my thighs. “When a man feels strongly about something, he doesn’t waste time choosing words.”
I rest my chin on my hands, cupped together over his chest, and look up at him through my lashes. “What are you feeling strongly about now, when the only thing you should be feeling is relaxed and sleepy like me?”
He strokes a gentle hand over my cheek. “When you told me about having to sell your house, that meant a lot to me. More than you could possibly know. And when you showed up at my door…” He chokes on his words. “I love you, Amanda. I love you so much I don’t know what to f**king do when things go wrong. I want you with me all the time so I can make sure nothing bad happens to you and no one hurts you and nothing makes you sad. I want to wrap you in a blanket and keep you in my arms, safe and protected and mine. You had a hard time growing up, and I know you’re having a hard time now. I just want to make the world beautiful for you again.”
My body stiffens. Oh God. Nonononononono. Not that word. I don’t want to hear that word. My breath leaves me in a rush and I look up and study him—his golden hair curling at his temples, lightly tanned skin, chiseled jaw, the faint shadow on his jaw, his blue eyes curious, silently questioning.
My chest constricts and my stomach clenches. Closing my eyes against his penetrating stare, I fight off the waves of panic, wrestling the urge to push him away and run. When did things stop being just sexy and fun? When did it suddenly get so serious?
Emotion wells up in my chest, a fierce, unsettling, rush of affection, deeper and more powerful than anything I’ve felt before. But ultimately where can it go? I am fundamentally flawed in both the happiness giving and receiving departments. He’s shown me how to let go in the bedroom, but in the real world, I’ll never be able to give myself completely to him. Not in the way he needs. Not in the way love demands.
“You just had to throw a f**k in there, didn’t you?” I say, gently teasing, hoping he won’t notice that I haven’t said it back.
He gives me a beautiful, sleepy smile and pulls me up for a kiss. “Fuck, yeah.”
***
I am warm. Safe. Secure.
I drift. Content.
And then I am not so warm. Awake. Displeased.
“Wake up, baby. Time to play.” Jake gives me only a second to focus before he whips the covers off me and pounces like an overeager puppy. First stop: my br**sts.
“Beast. Get off.” I slap his head as he draws my nipple into his mouth, shifting his position so he straddles my hips.
“I feel like I just fell asleep a minute ago.” I look over at the clock on his bedside table. “Ohmigod. I’ve only been sleeping for an hour.”
“And I’ve been ready for you since you drifted off. I couldn’t wait any longer.”
From the rock-hard erection poking into my thigh, I believe him. “You couldn’t wait an hour?”
He gives my nipple a sharp nip and then turns his attention to the other one. “You’ve actually been sleeping for twelve hours, so don’t be grumpy. It’s late afternoon.”
“It doesn’t count as twelve hours of sleep since you woke me up ten times to satisfy your insatiable sexual appetite.” Then my sleep-fuzzed brain kicks into gear and I shoot up to sitting, dislodging him from my breast. “TWELVE hours. Omigod. I’m supposed to be at work.”
Jake slides a thick thigh between my legs and gently presses me back down. “Couldn’t bring myself to let you go, especially when you were naked in my bed. Decided not to tell you. It’s Saturday, after all. Time for a day off.”
“I’ll make sure to buy some pajamas next time I stay over,” I say, “so as not to entice you.”
Jake nuzzles my neck, sending a delicious shiver down my spine. “There’s nothing you can wear that wouldn’t entice me because I know what’s underneath.”
“Don’t I get a chance to wake up?” I moan as little bursts of pleasure zing straight to my core.
“No. You get this.” He sits back and hands me a tiny butterfly-shaped vibrator from the bedside table. The elastic straps dangle between my fingers.
“You bought me a butterfly?”
Jake holds up a tiny remote control and presses a button. The vibrator buzzes in my hand. “Special, deluxe butterfly. Controllable only by me. I can turn it on or off and control the intensity.” He pushes a button and the butterfly almost takes flight. “Have you ever used one?”
“Um…no.” Anything with a remote control that would give someone else control over my orgasms has never had a place in my sex toy pie cupboard.
With a wicked smile, he takes the vibrator from my hand. “The top two straps fasten around your waist. The other straps wrap around your thighs. And the butterfly”—he makes it buzz again—“rests against your clit.”
My body heats in an instant as all sorts of naughty scenarios play through my head. But no way. Not unless I’m holding the remote control. “Thank you. But…”
So I bite my tongue and snuggle into his arms, and I pray he can keep the fear at bay.
We lie in blissful silence for all of three minutes, and then…
“Fuck.”
Hovering on the verge of sleep, I murmur into his chest, “You swear too much.”
“Baby.” He pulls me up so I am lying flat on top of him, his unbelievably ever-hard erection pressing against the juncture of my thighs. “When a man feels strongly about something, he doesn’t waste time choosing words.”
I rest my chin on my hands, cupped together over his chest, and look up at him through my lashes. “What are you feeling strongly about now, when the only thing you should be feeling is relaxed and sleepy like me?”
He strokes a gentle hand over my cheek. “When you told me about having to sell your house, that meant a lot to me. More than you could possibly know. And when you showed up at my door…” He chokes on his words. “I love you, Amanda. I love you so much I don’t know what to f**king do when things go wrong. I want you with me all the time so I can make sure nothing bad happens to you and no one hurts you and nothing makes you sad. I want to wrap you in a blanket and keep you in my arms, safe and protected and mine. You had a hard time growing up, and I know you’re having a hard time now. I just want to make the world beautiful for you again.”
My body stiffens. Oh God. Nonononononono. Not that word. I don’t want to hear that word. My breath leaves me in a rush and I look up and study him—his golden hair curling at his temples, lightly tanned skin, chiseled jaw, the faint shadow on his jaw, his blue eyes curious, silently questioning.
My chest constricts and my stomach clenches. Closing my eyes against his penetrating stare, I fight off the waves of panic, wrestling the urge to push him away and run. When did things stop being just sexy and fun? When did it suddenly get so serious?
Emotion wells up in my chest, a fierce, unsettling, rush of affection, deeper and more powerful than anything I’ve felt before. But ultimately where can it go? I am fundamentally flawed in both the happiness giving and receiving departments. He’s shown me how to let go in the bedroom, but in the real world, I’ll never be able to give myself completely to him. Not in the way he needs. Not in the way love demands.
“You just had to throw a f**k in there, didn’t you?” I say, gently teasing, hoping he won’t notice that I haven’t said it back.
He gives me a beautiful, sleepy smile and pulls me up for a kiss. “Fuck, yeah.”
***
I am warm. Safe. Secure.
I drift. Content.
And then I am not so warm. Awake. Displeased.
“Wake up, baby. Time to play.” Jake gives me only a second to focus before he whips the covers off me and pounces like an overeager puppy. First stop: my br**sts.
“Beast. Get off.” I slap his head as he draws my nipple into his mouth, shifting his position so he straddles my hips.
“I feel like I just fell asleep a minute ago.” I look over at the clock on his bedside table. “Ohmigod. I’ve only been sleeping for an hour.”
“And I’ve been ready for you since you drifted off. I couldn’t wait any longer.”
From the rock-hard erection poking into my thigh, I believe him. “You couldn’t wait an hour?”
He gives my nipple a sharp nip and then turns his attention to the other one. “You’ve actually been sleeping for twelve hours, so don’t be grumpy. It’s late afternoon.”
“It doesn’t count as twelve hours of sleep since you woke me up ten times to satisfy your insatiable sexual appetite.” Then my sleep-fuzzed brain kicks into gear and I shoot up to sitting, dislodging him from my breast. “TWELVE hours. Omigod. I’m supposed to be at work.”
Jake slides a thick thigh between my legs and gently presses me back down. “Couldn’t bring myself to let you go, especially when you were naked in my bed. Decided not to tell you. It’s Saturday, after all. Time for a day off.”
“I’ll make sure to buy some pajamas next time I stay over,” I say, “so as not to entice you.”
Jake nuzzles my neck, sending a delicious shiver down my spine. “There’s nothing you can wear that wouldn’t entice me because I know what’s underneath.”
“Don’t I get a chance to wake up?” I moan as little bursts of pleasure zing straight to my core.
“No. You get this.” He sits back and hands me a tiny butterfly-shaped vibrator from the bedside table. The elastic straps dangle between my fingers.
“You bought me a butterfly?”
Jake holds up a tiny remote control and presses a button. The vibrator buzzes in my hand. “Special, deluxe butterfly. Controllable only by me. I can turn it on or off and control the intensity.” He pushes a button and the butterfly almost takes flight. “Have you ever used one?”
“Um…no.” Anything with a remote control that would give someone else control over my orgasms has never had a place in my sex toy pie cupboard.
With a wicked smile, he takes the vibrator from my hand. “The top two straps fasten around your waist. The other straps wrap around your thighs. And the butterfly”—he makes it buzz again—“rests against your clit.”
My body heats in an instant as all sorts of naughty scenarios play through my head. But no way. Not unless I’m holding the remote control. “Thank you. But…”
