Lead (Stage Dive, #3)(84)

His mouth traveled over my jaw, stubble scratching against my neck. Teeth nipped and my * squeezed tight. Jimmy groaned and went faster, pounding into me. There was every chance I’d be bruised from top to toe by the end of things, but good god was it worth it.

Lots of time passed, I have no idea how much. The turn on the kitchen table must have been a quick summary. On my back in a bed, he gave me the full story.

We were all about the frenzied f*cking.

His hand held my thigh against him, keeping my good leg wrapped around his waist. The intensity of his gaze held me trapped, daring me to show him everything, exactly how much he was affecting me. In that moment, he was in control of my body, not me. The lines and angles of his face seemed etched in stone, a mask of concentration. All I could do was hold on tight, keeping him as close as possible. His pelvis slammed against mine, driving his cock in, sending me higher.

“Jimmy,” I moaned.

Everything inside of me tingled and tensed, every muscle shaking, and that was before I started coming. His cock plunged deep, the base grinding against my clit and boom! Fireworks. A whole sky full of them. My body was one big exploding entity. Stars going supernova played it more subtly. My innermost muscles clenched down on his cock, fingernails digging into his back. If my throat hadn’t closed, I’m quite sure I’d have screamed the house down.

When I came back to myself, Jimmy was carefully climbing off.

“Hey,” I whispered.

Thud. His big body hit the mattress, making me bounce. Sweat covered me from top to toe and a sublime kind of lethargy crept through my veins. It seemed to take forever to catch my breath.

“Jimmy?”

He lay on his stomach, ribs working hard to give him back his breath. I’d done that to him, me and my vagina. Go team. Now and then a muscle spasmed in my thighs or lower belly, the last of the orgasmic repercussions. My legs were like jelly, wobbly and weak.

“You okay?” I asked, daring to reach out and touch. My fingers traced over the musculature of his arm, down to his hand.

“Yeah,” he said, sliding his fingers between mine.

He rolled over onto his back, dealt with the condom. It was safely deposited into a tissue for throwing out later.

“Why don’t we do this instead of jogging?” I asked.

He smiled.

“I think I prefer burning calories this way.”

“We’ll do both,” he said, giving my fingers a squeeze.

“Okay.” I breathed deep, shuffling a little closer toward the heat of his body. The scent of a room after we had sex was the best. In a perfect world I’d bottle it and carry it on me always.

“You mind if I crash here with you?”

“No. I’d like that.” I pulled up the blankets, turned off the light. It felt so nice and normal. So right. He kept hold of my hand the entire time.

“Tired,” he mumbled.

“Sleep,” I said.

A nod.

And we slept. I had the most amazing dreams.





CHAPTER SEVENTEEN


“Lena, do something with your life.” Jimmy teased.

“I am,” I said, fiddling with my camera while sitting on his bench press.

His fists pounded into the punching bag, smack, smack, smack. Little wonder my groin felt tender this morning given he had all that strength at his disposal. Vaguely related, my god, the view. He wore only a black pair of sweat pants and tennis shoes. Beneath the bright lighting, his skin gleamed godlike all of his gorgeous muscles on display. The lines of his face so distinct, the determined set of his lips, I could have watched for years and never gotten bored.

“Watching me working with the bag isn’t doing something.” Hands stilled and he sucked in deep breaths.

“I’m taking pictures of you too.” I held up the shiny new camera and clicked off a few in demonstration. “You don’t mind me taking your picture, do you?”

“No.”

“Excellent. Can you take all your clothes off for me please? I’d like to get some nude shots.”

He gave me the look.

“It’s for artistic purposes, I swear.”

“I don’t think so.” He undid the straps on his glove things. They weren’t the full traditional boxing gloves, but less bulky.

“I’ll make it worth your while.” In a move that should have been beneath me, I toyed with the v in the neckline of my sweater.

“How?” His eyes darkened with interest.

Oh, the thrill of having some small amount of sexual power over this man. I got giddy on just the thought of it, my hormones rushing about like crazy. “All sorts of ways. I’ll have you know, I can be very inventive when motivated. You just have to trust me.”

He walked toward me, all slow and casual. But his eyes told a different story. “You playing with me, Lena?”

“No.” I lowered the camera. “You let me lead last night. It wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“When you kissed me?”

“Yes.”

He bought his face close to mine. “When you made me lie on top of you?”

“That too.”

“Thought you didn’t like my sweat,” he said, taunting me. “In fact, I distinctly remember you saying as much, and telling me to go shower.”