Breathe Out (Just Breathe, #2)(94)

“Fuck me,” I command, needing him inside.

Joe’s cock slips in effortlessly because of the excessive moisture.

“Yes,” I whimper.

“Fuck, Emma,” Joe groans. “I love the way you feel wrapped around me.”

“Yes,” I huff.

Joe holds my hip right at the bend of my right leg as it’s still propped up by the seat. He has me so worked up from the spanking that an orgasm explodes within me right away. Our mouths unite over my right shoulder as he continues to pump into me. I guide his left hand up, directing it to grab my hair. Joe lets go instantly, placing his hand on my shoulder.

“No,” I correct. “Here.” I return his hand to my hair.

Joe follows my lead, but after a few seconds his grip loosens.

When I groan my disappointment, Joe tightens his grip and pulls down.

“Yes,” I reassure, whimpering. “Fuck . . . Joe.”

“Cum for me, beautiful,” he directs.

“I’m . . . so . . . close,” I announce.

Joe’s thrusts quicken and his hands grip more firmly on my hip and hair.

“God . . . Joooooooe,” my voice squeaks when the orgasm roars.

“Fuck,” Joe groans. His paces hurries and subsides after about twenty seconds.

We stay pressed against each other for a few more seconds until Joe turns me to face him. He seeks my mouth and our bodies mold to each other’s.

“That was hot. You’re hot,” he comments.

I look away, blushing at his statement.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

I shrug my shoulders.

“Whatever you like, I want to know, Emma,” he says. “I want to please you in every way that you want it.”

“What do you like?” I redirect.

“All of it with you,” he says.

“Joe, that’s not an answer,” I chide.


“I get off by watching and hearing you get off,” he confesses.

“You know what I’m saying,” I scold softly.

With a smile, he offers, “We’ve got plenty of time to explore both of our fantasies and desires.”

“What makes you think I’ll let you stick around that long?” I tease.

Joe offers a wicked grin as his answer.

When we get dressed, Joe asks, “Do you have plans for the day?”

“Why?”

“Because, I was hoping you’d stay,” he admits sheepishly.

“What?” I gasp in shock. “Why?”

“We do have fun together even when we aren’t having sex,” he mentions.

“I have some work I need to take care of,” I say with half truth.

“You can work here,” he suggests.

Looking for an escape, my mouth blurts, “I need some things that are on my main computer.”

Joe has a look like he doesn’t completely believe me, but isn’t willing to push the issue. “Can I see you later?”

I debate with the idea. “You’re going to see me tomorrow with our friends.”

“So?”

“So . . . I don’t know,” I return.

“Think about it,” he coaxes.

“Fine,” I assure. “I’ll think about it.”

Taylor texts me fifteen minutes later that he’s arrived and is waiting in the valet area for me.

I still think it’s ridiculous that I need to be driven back and forth between Joe’s and my place, but I stopped arguing with Joe about it around the third time. He was very insistent and his calm, authoritative tone is distracting — it’s a turn on.





Eighty Three


Early Saturday morning, my friends and I take a trip out to Palm Springs for a short getaway. Once we get settled in our rooms, Jared and Nathan round us all up for a day out in the sun. After piling into three different cars, with three more behind us filled with bodyguards, we head out onto the road to an unknown destination. I try to pry with questions, but no one will reveal anything. Twenty minutes later, we pull up to an indoor-outdoor family fun center that has bumper cars, a game room, go-karts, miniature golf and a rock climbing wall.

As the staff greets our party, I quickly realize that Jared, Nathan and Joe have reserved the entire place for us for the late morning. We get to act like kids for the next few hours without the prying eyes of the general public.

Once we’re briefed on where everything is, I ask about the rock climbing area.

“We’re not doing that today,” Nathan informs me as we walk in the opposite direction.

“Why not?”

“We have other plans for you,” Jared reveals.

My heart sinks a little when my brain comprehends their intensions. “I want to go back to the hotel.”

“Come on, Kitten,” Jared pleas.

“This is not fair,” I contend.

“It’ll help,” Maggie suggests.

“No,” I protest as my eyes fall upon the bumper cars.

“We’ll ride together and you can drive,” Jared offers.

“No,” I repeat.

Jared pulls on my arm, but I yank away. Suddenly, someone scoops me up from behind and lifts me across the rink.

“Let me go,” I command.