Jackson (Wild Boys After Dark, #3)(3)
She dug her nails into him as words streamed from her lips—“God…Jackson….Yes…More”—spurring him on. He felt her thighs tighten as he grazed his teeth over her clit and stroked hard with his tongue.
“Ohgodohgodohgod.”
He stroked her wetness, coating his fingers before sliding one into her ass. Her hips bucked off the mattress as she cried out his name, her inner muscles pulsating as the orgasm tore through her. Before she came down from the peak, he withdrew from her tight orifices, causing her to whimper with need, and moved up over her body.
“Hurry,” she pleaded.
“Honor?” Their code for the pact they’d made at seventeen, when she’d gone on the pill, to never have unprotected sex with anyone but each other, because sometimes the urge struck when they were ill prepared. This kept them both safe from disease.
“Always,” she said in a breathy voice.
He sealed his lips over hers as he thrust in deep. “Holy f*ck you feel good,” he ground out against her mouth.
Their bodies moved in perfect, frenzied sync. He gripped her hips, thrusting harder, wanting to fill her completely and erase whatever’d had her tied in knots when she’d arrived. Her fingernails dug into his back. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d worn her scars, and he knew damn well it wouldn’t be the last. As their hips collided, she circled his waist with her legs.
“Pillow,” she said hastily.
He shoved a pillow beneath her hips, and they both moaned at the deepening of the angle. Their mouths crashed together in a greedy kiss that sent waves of ecstasy thrumming through him. He grabbed her hips and drove in faster, harder, as her head tipped back and she slammed her eyes closed. She gripped his forearms, clinging tightly. He felt her * tightening around his aching cock, and when she cried out—an indiscernible, needful sound—he nearly lost all control. Another deep thrust sent him to the edge. Heat raced down his spine, his balls tightened, and a fiery sensation spread through his body as he exploded inside her, one heated pulse after another. He always had the most powerful orgasms with Laney. Only Laney.
When he finally opened his eyes, hers were closed, and a satiated smile curved her beautiful lips. It was always like this with her—intense and all-consuming and somehow freeing at the same time. He moved onto the mattress beside her and gathered her into his arms. She murmured his name and snuggled in closer. She’d been so upset when she’d arrived, and he wanted to know what had happened. If Bryce had hurt her, Jackson would make him wish he’d never met her. But the truth would have to wait. Her breathing calmed, her body went soft, and she succumbed to the deep sleep of a satisfied lover. Laney was safe. She was with him. And for now that was all that mattered.
Chapter Two
LANEY AWOKE SURROUNDED by Jackson’s familiar masculine scent. She pressed her face into his pillow and inhaled. She’d always loved his scent, and no matter how many times he’d changed his cologne over the years, to Laney he always smelled the same. Safe.
She heard him walking around in the kitchen and closed her eyes with a sigh. It was time to face the music. She knew Jackson was out in the kitchen, trying to put the pieces together in that clever mind of his.
The mattress dipped beside her, and the aroma of coffee replaced the scent of him. She wasn’t ready to open her eyes yet. Couldn’t she just pretend last night never happened? Well, not all of it, just the date part? The sex had been out of this world, like always.
Jackson pushed her hair from her forehead, then ran the backs of his fingers down her cheek. She smiled and opened her eyes to find him watching her with that serious look of his. Narrow eyes, jaw peppered with scruff, the way she liked him best. He wore a blue T-shirt stretched tight over his broad chest and her favorite pair of his jeans, the ones that were faded on the thighs, with a tiny fraying nick at the corner of his left pocket. He already had on his black leather boots. He managed a tight smile, and she knew he was doing all he could not to question her about last night. She sat up and accepted the coffee cup he offered, taking a nice warm drink of heaven.
“Mm. Mocha. Thank you.”
“Happy birthday.”
She closed her eyes for a beat as he pulled the sheet up to cover her breasts.
“Thank you. God, Jackson. How am I thirty already? It feels like just yesterday you and I were going to concerts and heading to the beach over spring break. Where did the time go?”
He shrugged and took a sip of her coffee, then handed it back. “I think you’ve had a pretty damn good life, and there’s no hotter thirty-year-old on the planet, so you’ve got that covered.”
He was being kind. He photographed gorgeous models and actresses every day. She didn’t come close to any of them, but she knew what he saw in her wasn’t just what he saw in those women. He knew her in a way he would never bother to know the women he casually dated, just as she knew him. It was that twining together of their looks, hearts, and souls despite their faults that made them each more beautiful to the other. She had no doubt that if she were disfigured in a nasty accident, Jackson’s love for her wouldn’t change.
“Now, get that fine ass of yours out of bed so we can get on the road. I went by your place and picked up your bags. The truck’s packed, and we’re rolling out of here in forty minutes, naked or not.” He flashed a flirty grin that made her want to pull him right back into bed, which was why she headed for the shower instead.