Elise
The night of our one-night stand had never been crystal clear, because for so long I’d been trying to forget the emotions it had brought out. Plus, it had been dark and more about feel than anything else. But some things were memorable—like the orgasm Jack had given me.
Tonight’s orgasm was even more powerful. Did the man have a magic tongue? He hadn’t used that tongue the last time, and I realized how much I’d missed out.
“My turn,” I said and urged him onto his back before climbing on top until I was straddling his waist.
Jack reached for the drawer in the nightstand, cursed when it didn’t open, then grabbed a condom and quickly put it on.
He gripped my ass, and I shifted until he nearly entered me. And then I adjusted slightly and he did, slowly at first, his head tipped back while his hands gripped my hips in a way that suggested he was holding back. But I didn’t want him to hold back.
I leaned forward and rocked my hips, setting a pace that had sweat breaking out on his forehead. “Is this too much, Jackson?”
“Don’t tease me, Hot Stuff. I’ve got a lot of pent-up sexual energy for you.” He flipped us so that he was on top and drove into me.
I squeaked in surprise, and he stopped.
“You okay? Was I too rough?”
I smacked his ass. “Keep going.”
He grinned and thrust forward, kissing me gently and touching my face. I’d wanted to be in control of his release, but he was back in charge and ramping me up for another orgasm.
He reached between us and touched me while he thrust, hitting two spots at once.
I flung my head back on a climax so powerful I felt like my spirit had left my body. By the time I could focus, Jack was holding me, his cheek pressed against my forehead in the throes of his own release.
A low groan escaped his chest as he peppered my forehead with kisses I didn’t think he knew he was giving. The kisses grew less sporadic, more targeted, until his body stilled and his lips found my mouth.
But he was still inside me. And he was still hard. “I see you don’t have a refractory period.”
“Told you, I have a lot of suppressed desire where you’re concerned. I’ve wanted you from the moment you walked in the door.”
I stretched experimentally beneath him, making sure my limbs still functioned. “The day I moved in?”
“No. When you came over to visit your sister after she moved into my apartment.”
Wait—what? I tried to sit up, but he was heavy. “That was more than six months ago.”
He brushed a lock of hair off my cheek. “Exactly. Half a year of built-up sexual desire. Let me know when you’re ready for round two.” His expression was calm but focused.
The man was serious.
I tried to sit up again, and this time, Jack rolled to the side, but he kept his arm possessively wrapped around my torso. “You haven’t actually been celibate since we hooked up…have you?”
He didn’t answer. Just stared.
My jaw dropped.
“There were other reasons for my celibacy besides thwarted desire for you,” he said. “My choice in women was dubious, as Max and Lizzie like to remind me. I was reassessing my choices when I met you.”
“So you decided to not have sex…indefinitely?” The last word came out in a high pitch. “You’re insanely hot. How did you manage to not date?”
Technically, when I thought about it, I hadn’t had sex during that time either. I’d fooled around with a couple of guys, but either I got cold feet when things became more serious or I found something wrong with them.
He cupped my ass. “Glad you think I’m hot.” He was staring at my breasts. “About that round two—I’m ready when you are.”
I put my hand on his chest, holding him back. “Jack Townsend, what are you saying?”
He sank onto the pillow and sighed, running a hand through his rumpled locks. “I liked you back then.” He looked over. “I still do.”
“Which is why we found ourselves giving in to mutual attraction. But—”
He must have understood the question I didn’t voice, because he said, “I like you a lot, Elise. I want something more permanent.”
He can’t mean… “But this relationship ends in a couple of days.”
“Does it have to?”
My eyes widened. “Yes! Or the living part. I like you. More than is wise. You’re smart and sweet and funny, and some have pointed out that I don’t measure up. But I’m still figuring myself out. I’ve always lived with my mom or depended on my sister. It’s important for me to prove I’m capable.”
“To others or to yourself?”
“Likely to myself, but that doesn’t change how I feel.”
He sat up, propped on his elbow, and his mouth firmed as he looked off. “Fucking Thalia. She knows nothing about quality.” He looked back at me. “You can’t be measured because you’re better than me any day of the week. You’re caring and strong, and I don’t deserve you, but I want you. As for your needing time to prove something to yourself—I’ll wait.” He touched my bare hip lightly, but there was desire in that touch. “I’m a patient man.”
These were words any woman would die to hear. They were the words I wanted to hear—but I’d be putting off the one man I truly cared about because I didn’t have my shit together yet. “You shouldn’t have to wait.”
He studied me for so long I wasn’t sure he’d respond. Having second thoughts? “Let me worry about that,” he finally said and leaned over and kissed me, then stealthily tucked me under his body.
“Jackson,” I said in warning. “We can’t leave things like this.”
“Shh,” he said. “Enough talking.”
