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“That’s good, babe,” he said as he slowly started stroking our cocks. “Frottage is another way to enjoy sexual pleasure without actual penetration.”
Swear to God, I was mesmerized how fucking sexy the two of us looked touching each other, him both thicker and longer, but I didn’t have anything to be ashamed of. Both of us leaked precum from our slits and he would rub his thumb over our openings and add our own fluid with the lube.
I couldn’t breathe. Could one have a panic attack from pleasure? Surely not.
“It’s sexy to watch, isn’t it?” he asked as his strokes picked up a little faster and he added a twist at both the top and bottom of our dicks. “There’s also the frenulum nerve bundle right there,” his thumb caressed a spot that almost made me jump off his lap, “on the underside of the penile shaft.” His smile grew even more wicked. “Or, in other words, our cocks rubbing against each other feels mother-fucking good.”
I wanted to close my eyes and just enjoy the pleasure Landon was giving me, but I still couldn’t take my eyes off the erotic vision. It was all good, though. I found out that an orgasm with your eyes open is just as explosive as when your eyes were closed.Chapter SevenJinxNothing could have satisfied me more than spending the next several days doing nothing more than taking more time for Landon to introduce me to more and more physical pleasures. If I had my way, I would touch him, trace every tattoo, vein, and every indention on his body, but the hard disciplinarian made certain that I fulfilled my contract obligations and performed for every scheduled event. He kept me safe—was someone totally different when we were not in the room together. It was sexy when he went all protective, so I didn’t complain.
When I wasn’t working or when we weren’t in bed together, Landon surprised me by scheduling some sightseeing for us. I would have never believed it, but one simple baseball cap, some ratty jeans, and a T-shirt tricked most everyone. It gave us some much-needed time to learn more things about each other…well, things other than where we liked being touched, licked, or smacked. It wasn’t shocking that I was the talker between the two of us, sharing every interesting detail I could remember about my life. I told him my favorite color, favorite television show, my first kiss, a host of other things, and then ended it with the shit about my parents.
Whenever I spoke of my parents, he tensed up, like he wanted to punch a wall. Again, I liked the protective side of Landon. I’d never had it before and I didn’t want to lose it. Hell, I didn’t intend to lose it. He might not know it yet, but wherever he went, that’s where I was going. Yep, just like that. I liked to call myself Micah 2.0. I meant to have what I wanted and I wanted Landon.
He wanted me, too. I knew he did, even if he hadn’t exactly said the words. Well, neither of us had actually said them, but I’d made myself damn clear on how I felt. In my opinion, he’d done the same. Again, zero education or practice on the relationship thing, but there was no fucking way he could look at me the way he did and not love me.
Impossible.
Something in the pit of my stomach lurched. It was impossible, right? I’d just hung up from my father and when I’d told him of my new plans, he’d roared like an angry lion and then flung out some garbage about Landon already having a boyfriend in his life—maybe even a fiancé. My father would do that, though, lie to try and hurt me or keep me in line.
This time, it wouldn’t work. I was no longer under his thumb and dumb enough to believe every word he said. No, he was lying…even if Landon always tensed up when I asked about his family.
No. Nope. I wasn’t doing it. I wasn’t going to let that man take away my only shot of happiness; it wasn’t going to happen. Knowing that I needed a dose of Landon to put my heart back in its safety zone, I walked down the hall toward the bedroom. He’d gone in to take a work call—nothing for me to worry about.
As I walked toward the closed bedroom door, I stared at my cell, amazed at the courage I’d just displayed to the one person on earth I’d always bowed down to—my father. The call to my mother, telling her that as soon as I finished with Milan my modeling career was over, had been so much easier. She’d sounded…thankful. There’d been so much happiness in her voice, it had given me the courage to go ahead and make the same call to my father…which had led to me having a panic attack caused by an overdose of insecurity.
