Not My Romeo (The Game Changers #1)(60)

Her big eyes stare up at me, her lips tight around me, and it’s a submissive thing, that she’s on her knees, but underneath I wonder if she knows that it isn’t submissive at all. She’s got all the fucking power with me, and I don’t think she even knows how much I want her. I clench the edge of the desk. I needed this. Her. Especially after the anxiety from earlier. This, her, soothes everything inside me.

She slides me between her breasts, slick and warm, as I pump between her cleavage. Her head dips, and she takes me inside her warm mouth and hums against me, and I . . . I . . .

“In my mouth,” she murmurs, like she’s said this a thousand times, but my librarian has never said those words to a man, and it makes me shudder, my chest heaving, watching her suck me deep. Mine. Territorial alpha claws to the surface, and I come with a roar, eyes on her face, searching, imprinting this moment in my head.

Breathing heavily, she swallows all of me, her tongue laving my dick.

I look at her magnificence for as long as I can until I collapse back on the desk, panting, body shuddering.

“Pants. Condom. Get it.”

I hear satisfaction in her voice as she stands. “You’ll need a minute. I think I did very well. A-plus for me.”

“I am not an old man yet. Get the condom, woman. My legs aren’t working.”

She laughs, shuffling sounds reaching me as she goes through my jeans.

I’m dizzy when I rise up. She tears at it with her teeth as she walks over to me.

She glances down at my arousal and laughs. “How can you be ready again?”

“It’s you. And don’t laugh. He’s sensitive. He might get soft.”

She laughs again, doubling over, and I chuckle, watching her, feeling comfortable and easy. Maybe this is what incredible sex is, when two people crave each other—and not just their bodies but their personalities.

“What’s taking so long?” I ask, sitting up more. “You’re wasting precious time.”

She holds the condom package up to her face, squinting. “Crap!”

“Amateur. Give it to me.”

She dashes over to her purse on the floor and slides on her glasses, her face horrified as she glares down at the wrapper. “Jack! I ripped it! There’s a tiny hole in it. Do you have another one?”

“That one’s been in my wallet forever.” I stand, weaving a little, my legs still like jelly. “Do you have any at your house?”

She shakes her head. “No, tossed them a while back. Expired.”

I rake my hands through my hair. “Is there a store here in town where I can buy them?” I’m going to die if I don’t have her again.

Her eyes flare. “You can’t just waltz in the Piggly Wiggly at nine at night and pick up a box of Trojan Magnums! Everyone knows your face. What if the cashier takes a pic?” She pauses. “How do you buy condoms?”

“Amazon. Fake name.”

We study each other, eyes searching.

“I have plenty back at the penthouse.”

“Of course you do.”

I study the planes of her face, trying to read what she’s thinking, but her hair hides her face.

She walks over to her bra and puts it back on. Next come her shirt and leggings.

Chucks are next.

Dammit! Why did I bring up the penthouse?

She picks up her purse and pushes up her glasses.

I grab my shirt and slide it on. I grab my pants and put them on. “Fine. I’m going to the Piggly Wiggly, and then we’re going to your place. Don’t they have those self-checkout things?”

She huffs out a laugh. “Have you ever used one?”

“No, but it can’t be too hard.”

“It can be a surprising pain in the ass. Self-check or not, everyone in town will know by tomorrow.”

“I’ll wear a hat. I have one in the car.”

“Won’t work. Your hotness is world known, apparently, by everyone but me.”

We stand there for a few seconds, and it feels as if I should say something here.

Invite her to your real home, Jack.

But I can’t.

I want to, I do, but how can I trust what I’m really feeling right now?

I don’t even know what this is!

She watches my face, and I know what she sees—me retreating. Fortifying my castle walls. Digging a moat around it.

She inches closer to the door, her hands behind her back, probably on the doorknob.

With fumbling fingers, I button my pants. “Elena, don’t go.”

Why am I always saying that?

There’s a long silence, the only sound our breathing in the quiet room.

“Elena, I didn’t plan on this. I just wanted to . . . kiss you, and then I don’t know. Let’s go somewhere else.”

A smile crosses her face, tinged with regret and wry acceptance. “I know exactly what this was. It was you walking in this gym, and me wanting you, and you wanting me. Just two people without commitments. Isn’t that what you want, Jack?”

I close my eyes briefly. “Yes.”

A long silence wraps around us as we stare at each other.

“That’s what I thought.” Her eyes drop to the floor, then rise up to meet mine. “See you at the next rehearsal.” She scans the room, her gaze everywhere except on me. “Do you mind putting the desk back together?”