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lf, giving her the slightest flick of my tongue, the barest hint of a lick against her sensitive skin.
My hands roamed her body, stroking, feeling the fullness of her hips, the dip of her waist. With just my thumbs, I caressed the base of her breasts. Her nipples pressed against her tank top, aching for me. I could take them into my mouth, lick and suck. But I didn’t. I just swept my thumbs slowly along the swell of her breasts, tantalizing, making her want more.
“What were you doing before I got here tonight, Sky?” I knew already, but I wanted to hear her say it. I wanted to hear her confess, breathy and aroused, tell me how she’d been touching herself. I brought a hand down to her thigh, stroking her bare skin below her shorts.
“Jax.” Her voice shook, her fingers trembling as she brought them to my arms, moving along my muscles. She touched me as if she couldn’t believe she was doing it, her palms sliding along my biceps, down my forearms, up to my shoulders.
I nuzzled her ear, kissing her as I murmured, “You can tell me.”
“I…it’s not…” She buried her head in the crook of my neck.
I stroked her hair. “It’s nothing to be ashamed about.” I soothed her, my hand along her throat, down her back, at her hips. All soft curves, melting against me, she felt so right.
“I can’t believe you saw that,” she choked out, burning with embarrassment.
“Do you know how many times I’ve thought about you, Sky? Late at night, alone in my bed.”
She looked up at me, her eyes wide with realization. Had she not known how much I wanted her? I kissed her again, showing her how I felt, how I couldn’t stay away from her, not any longer. Holding her in my arms, feeling her need me just as much as I needed her, I couldn’t believe I’d lasted that long. I pressed her back into the wall, craving more friction, more contact, wanting her breasts right up against my chest.
Working my hand down at her waistband, I traced the edge. “Tell me, Sky,” I murmured. “Were you touching yourself?”
She gasped, both at my words and at my fingers dipping slowly inside her shorts, tracing a slow, lazy path down her stomach. As I kissed her throat, her head tipped back and I heard the word I’d wanted to hear.
“Yes,” she confessed.
With a hiss of satisfaction, I nipped at her earlobe, wanting to claim her, needing to mark her as mine. My fingers swept lower over her skin, so hot and soft. I wondered whether she’d be wet if I reached lower still, melting for me like I’d always dreamed she would be.
“Tell me, what were you thinking about?” I whispered.
Her answer was a moan, long and hungry. “You, Jax. I was thinking about you.”
We were so caught up in each other, we missed the sound of the apartment door opening. But then a loud stumbling sound from the kitchen roused us from our private world.
“Fuck!” We both heard Griller cursing, loud and clear. He must have knocked into something when he’d walked into the apartment, probably losing his footing he was so drunk.
Sky looked up at me in stark panic, all traces of the bliss she’d felt just moments ago vanished from her face. “Go!” she begged in a frantic whisper, rushing to the window leading out to the fire escape. With her shoulder to the frame, she hoisted it up. “Go now!”
I looked at her, dark and longing. I didn’t want to scurry out like a rat, hiding in the night. She belonged with me, not him.
“Please,” she pleaded, panic working its way into her voice.
“Fuck.” I echoed her husband in the other room as I climbed out the window and worked my way down the fire escape, cursing every step.
7
Sky
Three days after Mike had nearly walked in on me and Jax. I was still shaking. I felt like a giant tornado had torn through town heading straight for me. Only at the last second had it veered off path for a narrow miss. I couldn’t believe any of it had happened.
First, I couldn’t wrap my mind around the fact that Jax had randomly stopped by my apartment to visit. I’d become accustomed to my own obsession with him. My nearly constant thoughts of Jax had kept me company for months now. But I’d told myself it was one-sided. I’d figured my crush was just the by-product of a woman in the midst of an unhappy marriage. It was pretty easy to get attached to Jax. I was sure women got attached to him all the time. I was probably only one in a long line of women thinking about him, texting with him, reading way too much meaning into his brief messages and glances.
I’d pretty nearly convinced myself that nothing was really going on with Jax. It was all in my head. And it had helped me to stay away from him. For most of the last few weeks, I’d managed to stop sending him texts. I thought about him all the time, wondering what he was up to, wanting to share my day, my thoughts, but I’d stopped acting on impulse. I told myself it was pathetic, my attachment. I was acting like a nerdy schoolgirl crushing on the popular football star who barely knew she existed. In reality, I was a married woman, and I needed to focus all my energies on changing that fact.
But then he’d shown up, at my door, just like I’d fantasized about him doing so many nights. He’d looked exactly like I always imagined, wearing worn jeans and a black T-shirt that hugged him just right. He looked so rugged, with a little bit of stubble. And the way he looked at me, as if he’d missed seeing and talking to me as much as I’d missed him. It nearly took my breath away.
And I’d already been slightly winded. When he’d rung the doorbell, I’d been right in the middle of a hot fantasy about none other than Jax. I’d been on the bed, lost in my imagination as I fucked myself with my vibrator. I’d started out slow, just my fingers. Mike was out and I didn’t expect him home, so I’d taken my time. Building it nice and steady, I’d pictured Jax, sitting with him in his truck like we had the night he’d driven me home. Only this time he hadn’t just dropped me off. Instead of my hopping out of the cab, he’d pulled me close to him, kissed me deep and full. I’d slid over, straddling his lap, running my hands over his body the way I’d wanted to so many times.
When my fantasy got more X-rated, him unzipping his jeans, shoving my skirt up and slipping me out of my panties, I’d reached for my vibrator. I’d wanted to feel it up inside of me, thrusting in where I was so wet for him, while I thought about his cock. How it would feel to have him inside of me, taking me, making me ride him in the darkness, so forbidden, so hot.
Right when I’d been about to cum, imagining him grabbing onto my hips, ramming me down again and again onto his huge, hard cock, the doorbell had rung. Disoriented, panting, I’d barely managed to slip on a pair of shorts. And apparently I hadn’t remembered to turn off the vibrator. I’d left it there buzzing away on the bed, a little too close to the edge.
I’d felt so obvious, standing with him the kitchen, my vivid fantasy mingling with reality. He had to have noticed I was flushed, my hair all messy, my breathing coming fast. I wasn’t even wearing a bra. I clearly hadn’t been thinking, answering the door like that.
And then the clunk. I’d nearly died of embarrassment when I’d realized what had fallen down onto the floor in my bedroom. Hearing that buzz on the hardwood, I’d known instantly what made the sound. I’d sprinted as fast as I could. I bet if someone had clocked me I’d have set a new world record.
But when he’d caught me, burning shame had turned into a whole different kind of heat. Backed into a corner, trapped, a switch had flipped inside of me. I went from praying he wouldn’t find out what I’d been up to, to desperately wanting him to know. I’d wanted him to make me tell him how bad I’d been. I’d needed to admit my obsession. Finally touching, kissing, confessing, it had felt like getting swept up in a tidal wave, all that pent-up longing built up over all those months crashing over us.
Then we’d heard Mike in the other room. If we hadn’t, we’d both probably be dead. I’d been so far gone, so lost to the moment, I think I’d been about 30 seconds from unzipping Jax’s jeans and begging him to take me. If he’d spread my legs, I would have pleaded
with him to fuck me hard, right up against the wall. Then Mike would have walked in and killed us both.
I wasn’t exaggerating. Mike kept a gun on him at all times. If he’d walked in on Jax and me having sex, there was no way he would have wanted to have a conversation about it. Nor would he have been satisfied with using his fists. Things would have gotten real bloody real fast, especially since he was drunk.
I’d narrowly avoided complete disaster. And as the survivor of a near-death experience, I knew what I should do. I should make the sign on the cross, blow a kiss up to God and vow to live the rest of my days in a sanctified and righteous manner. I should embrace eternal gratitude that Mike’s stumble gave us the 60 seconds of warning we needed to cover up our transgressions. And I should never talk to Jax again.
My phone rumbled with a text.
Jax: Are you all right?
I put it back into my pocket and continued my rounds. So far, in the three days since we’d nearly gotten caught, I’d managed to avoid him. I’d lost myself in the constant busyness of work, the unending stream of demands. But I functioned on autopilot, my body doing what was required while my mind stayed locked on one subject and one subject alone.
Because my guilty secret was that, deep down, I felt thrilled. Elated. Jax liked me. Late at night, while I’d been alone in bed thinking about him, he’d been doing the exact same thing. The thought of it was like taking a big shot of potent liquor, the liquid flowing through my veins like molten lava. I shouldn’t be thinking about it. I couldn’t stop thinking about it.
I kept replaying certain moments. The feel of his large, warm hand sliding along my waist. His thumb caressing my jaw as he tipped my head back into a kiss. The way he whispered into my ear, his breath making me tingle, his words making me ache. I thought I’d been obsessed with Jax before? Now I felt certifiably insane, unable to focus on a single thing other than him.
