Arrogant Devil(77)

I tug on her thigh, and she lets her leg fall open. I keep my gaze locked with hers as my hand covers her wetness. I brush up and down softly. It’s a pace intended to torture. She rolls her hips and two of my fingers sink into her.

She closes her eyes for a moment then opens them. One word slips from her mouth, followed by another.

“Yes…please.”

It’s all the urging I need. I rub soft circles while I kiss up the inside of her thigh. We both know where I’m headed, but she still loses her footing when my mouth finally gets there. The leg she’s standing on buckles and I wrap my right hand around her thigh, holding her up. My other hand goes around her waist so I can press her hips against my mouth.

Her breathing grows labored as I bury my head between her thighs. My fingers pump in and out, quickening. She fists the top of my hair and arches her back as I suck and kiss and swirl my tongue in soft circles.

Her inhibitions are lost to the Texas wind.

Her focus is on my mouth and the climax building up inside her.

I drag my tongue up the length of her and our eyes lock.

She’s a goner.

Her legs are shaking and she’s watching me do this to her, watching me as I spread her thighs even wider and tug her down until my tongue sinks into her. My thumb starts rubbing circles against her wetness, and the combination is too intense for her to run from any longer.

Her eyes pinch closed as her thighs quiver. I can feel the waves of pleasure roll through her, feel her clench, and—fuck—it’s the sexiest thing watching her come undone like that, tasting her as she falls apart.

I’m relentless, dragging out every drop of that orgasm I can get. She’s still shaking from the aftereffects, so sensitive that each drag of my tongue makes her hips buck. Only when I’m sure she’s really finished do I smile and sit back on my knees.

She blink, blink, blinks.

“Where am I? Who am I?”

Her leg drops back to the ground, and she’s standing there naked from the bottom down, her tank top askew. I’m still completely clothed, and we realize it at the same time. Her hands shoot up to fix her top and I help her step back into her underwear and shorts. Then I stand and smile.

“Wow.” Her eyes are glossy and her cheeks are flushed.

I smile and finger the strap of her tank top, righting it on her shoulder.

“Now what?” she asks, voice shaky.

“Now, I go shower.”

I’m still sweaty from my run.

“And me?”

She’s so damn cute standing there, unsure of herself. I can’t fathom how a woman as beautiful as she is still manages to have a self-conscious bone in her body. Then it hits me: of course she’s uncertain and reserved.

It was the stuff he said to me…the things he called me.

I remember what she’s lived through, what events led her to my doorstep, literally, and I decide we’ve done enough for tonight.

“Jack?” she asks, tilting her head to the side, studying me.

“Hm?”

“Are we gonna keep going?”

I smile and shake my head. “Not tonight. Not because I don’t want to—I do—I just don’t see the point in rushing things.”

She furrows her brows. “Are you sure?”

“Positive. You want to watch another movie? I just need to rinse off really quick.”

She laughs. “You think I’m capable of hanging out with you right now? I feel like I need to go smoke a cigarette, and I’ve never so much as even tried one.”

I laugh. “Do you want to stay the night?”

“Like in your guest room?”

“I was thinking my bed.”

Her eyes widen like that’s a crazy idea.

“I think I want to be in my own bed tonight.”

I take the hint.

“C’mon, why don’t I walk you home?”

Her smile lights up her whole face. “I think I can manage fifty feet.”

“I insist.”

She accepts my outstretched elbow and I lead the way outside.

“This is weird,” she announces.

“Yeah, kind of.”

She slices her gaze up to me. “Just so we’re on the same page, are we going to wake up tomorrow and pretend like this never happened or are we going to be cool about it and just reference it as the one time you went down on me against the front door?”

“Maybe somewhere in between?”

She laughs and tugs open the door to the shack.

We stand there looking at each other for a few long seconds. There’s not a proper send-off for this. A hug, a kiss, a handshake—they all feel wrong. She takes matters into her own hands, tips up on her toes, and plants a kiss right on my cheek before disappearing inside.

I’m left standing there for a few seconds before I shake my head and turn back for the farmhouse.

I don’t remember the last time I had such a hard time falling asleep. I lie awake in bed with a nervous tension in the pit of my stomach I haven’t felt since childhood. It reminds me of how I used to feel on Christmas Eve, jittery and excited, anxious for the next day to come. It keeps me awake half the night. It makes me regret not insisting Meredith sleep here with me. I want to know how she’s feeling. I want to know if she’s currently packing up everything she owns and hitchhiking out of town. I want to know when exactly I let my guard down enough to fall in love.