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When he gets close enough, I put my hands on both cheeks and pull his mouth to mine, tasting myself on his lips, fueling me to ask for what I want. “More of you.”
“Hmm, that’s not very descriptive.”
“Because you’ve made me orgasmic and dumb.”
That earns me a smug smile. “I like you this way. Makes me want to keep you orgasmic, though not dumb. You’ll never be dumb.”
I could really fall for this man. I could fall for his whole stern-financial-guy-with-the-cinnamon-roll-dad thing, and it wouldn’t even take a second orgasm. But I want that too. Oh, I want it.
Reaching down, I wrap my hand around his hard cock, which pulses under my grip. I watch his throat work as he swallows and tries to steady his breathing, but he can’t. I love watching his control slip.
Reaching for the drawer of the bedside table, he grabs a condom and shreds the wrapper with his teeth. I take it from him and roll it on, squeezing him a little tighter as I go until he growls, “Ruby…”
“Yes?” I bat my eyelashes and look at him with innocence.
“You should’ve been my date tonight.” He sucks in a breath as I continue to run my hand over his length.
“It might not have ended like this if I hadn’t been jealous of your date.”
“No, Ginger. It would have fucking ended like this. But I’d have driven myself crazy watching every man in the room want you as much as I do.” He flips us over so he’s beneath me, and I grind down on him, watching his eyelids drop as his control slides farther from his grasp.
Grabbing my hips, he positions me above his cock, but he doesn’t lower me down. His biceps and shoulders flex as he holds me where he wants me, lowering me an inch, two inches, then lifting me away until I moan in desperation.
Then he does it again. I just want to sink down and take him in completely, but he won’t let me. And with each inch he gives me, he takes it back moments later until I’m writhing over him, desperate, hot, and ready to orgasm again, and he’s not even inside me.
“Dammit, Jax.”
He smiles again, so smug, so good at every damn thing he does.
And with one beautiful thrust, he fills me, and this time, he doesn’t push me away. “Ride me, sweetheart. Take what you want.”
So I do. Moving over him and pushing us both higher.
Until he’s growling, “Fuck, Ruby.” And I’m orgasmic and dumb again, saying nothing that qualifies as words.
His hands are on my breasts, massaging my nipples as he moves beneath me, and that’s all it takes for me to come tumbling over the ice hill again. Only this time, he’s with me, and careening out of control feels even better. So much better.
It’s everything.
* * *
“Shh, Fiona’s a light sleeper,” Jackson tells me as we creep down the hallway toward the creaky stairs. I’m certain he’s walking me back to my car so I can zip back over to the staff quarters before morning.
Wearing one of his soft tees and nothing else, I’m aware that I’ve left my clothes upstairs, but the awareness of Fiona’s proximity has my brains scattered, and I’m prepared to make a quick getaway.
I grab my sweater from where I left it on the kitchen chair and head for the door. As I’m reaching for the knob, Jackson’s hand wraps around my waist, and he tugs me back into him. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“Um, home? Or really, my home away from home over there in the staff area.” I point in the direction of the bungalows even though we both know where they are. He wraps his arms around me and holds me against him, nuzzling kisses into my neck.
“Yeah, you’re not leaving.”
“You just said Fiona’s a light sleeper.”
Swiveling me around, he kisses me softly. Then deeper. Insatiable, as we melt into each other.
When we break the kiss, he smooths the messy strands of hair off my forehead and kisses my temple. “I meant that we should be quiet in the kitchen. I want to cook you breakfast.”
I can’t see a clock, but it’s pitch black outside the windows, and I’m fairly certain it’s the middle of the night.
