How to Fail at Flirting(27)

I tried to think through the situation, but with each bump and rub of Jake’s body against mine, my mind reset. No one has to find out. God, his hands.

When I sat back and pressed both palms to his neck, Jake’s eyes were wide, pupils dilated, and his breath was coming fast and heavy. “A few days,” I repeated, losing my words as his hands drifted up my ribs, his thumbs caressing the sides of my breasts through my dress.

Jake nodded.

A few days of this, a few days of him, and then back to real life.

“Take me to my bedroom.”

Do something reckless. Check.





Fourteen





Jake’s gaze swept over my exposed skin after my black dress fell to the bedroom floor and I stood before him in bra and panties. The way his eyes roamed the length of my body was like he was memorizing me.

“So, this is me.” I tucked my hair behind my ears and glanced away as his eyes reached my face.

“I like you,” Jake murmured while walking me backward toward the bed. “I can’t decide where to start.” One hand slid down my back, stroking the sensitive skin above my hip.

Splaying my hands over his chest, I pushed his shirt off his shoulders. The pressure of his thighs against mine reminded me of dancing with him on the pier. One, two, three. I reached back and unhooked my bra, letting my breasts tumble free as the lacy fabric fell. His appreciative stare made me want to giggle, but then his hands were cupping and squeezing my breasts, and circling my hard nipples with his thumb. A low groan escaped my mouth.

“I want you.” His lips trailed down my neck with soft, wet kisses punctuating his words. “I’ve wanted you since I first touched you.”

“Me, too.” I didn’t recognize my voice; it was throaty and bold. “Get on the bed.”

Jake tossed a condom on the duvet and pushed down his pants and boxer briefs, and then my handsome stranger lay in front of me naked and ready, his erection thick and rigid, his gaze intent on me. I hooked my thumbs into my black satin panties, pushed them down my hips, and climbed onto the bed.

He slid deft fingers between my legs, stroking and teasing, but I wanted more.

I placed my hand over his and met his eyes. “I want you inside me.”

He nodded, and the sound of the foil tearing was like music, and Jake rolled a condom down his length.

It was anticipation and not fear or anxiety that pulsed through me. I was going to be on top, in control, and he was okay with it. This is actually happening.

“You’re incredible,” he said, his eyes traveling over my body as he gripped my hips. He met my eyes again. “We don’t have to if you’re not ready, though.”

Him asking, making sure I was on board for everything happening, was beyond sexy. It made me feel safe, and I rested my palms on his chest. “I’m ready. I want this.”

He pressed against my entrance, and then he was filling and stretching me.

As I sank down, I panted his name repeatedly and ground against him. My body lit up as he bucked, reaching deeper and hitting the perfect spots. Seeing his expression, feeling the way his muscles flexed under me and the growing friction—I was overwhelmed, truly, for the first time in my life.

“You feel so damn good,” he panted, drawing me down to suck on one of my nipples, teasing it with his tongue. Flickers of pleasure moved across my chest and out to my fingertips, the tension pooling in my spine.

We slid against each other, building to a steady and maddening rhythm. My climax blossomed deep within my body.

I pressed my hands to his chest for balance and rocked against him, seeking my orgasm. With him, like this, our bodies glistening with sweat, I wasn’t thinking; I was pure sensation.

His thumb made a slow circle over my clit, and I let out a cry, further excited by his blue eyes on me, his neck muscles straining.

My nerves all sparked as my back arched and an incomprehensible string of words left my mouth.

His expression changed to intense concentration, and his breath grew labored. With a loud groan, his body jerked under me with the power of his own release.

We both lay damp with sweat, naked, as the air-conditioning blew over us. Heat radiated between our limp bodies as we sank against each other. I tried desperately to catalog the moment, but brief tremors of pleasure still rolled through me as I caught my breath, and my thoughts went fuzzy. Minutes passed in silence—for me, it was the silence of satisfaction and disbelief.

“I’ll be right back,” he finally said, easing off the bed to dispose of the condom in my bathroom. I lolled to my side and admired Jake as he returned. His hair was matted with sweat, and I followed the lines of his neck muscles down over his shoulders.

“Were you checking me out?” he asked with a crooked smile as he climbed back into bed.

“You’re not bad to look at.”

He wrapped his arms around me, our faces inches apart.

“I hope that’s not too forward,” I joked.

“I think under the circumstances, it’s acceptable.” He planted a sweet, slow kiss on my waiting lips. Jake stroked my hair behind my ear and slowly combed his fingers through the strands. “Naya like a papaya . . .” He said it wistfully, stretching out the vowels. “I love your name. Where does it come from?”

“It’s Arabic. Means ‘new.’”