Page 48 of Over Time Advantage

“Come here, Jett,” I interrupt while crooking my finger at him.

Leaving his car door open, he practically sprints toward me. You’ve got to love the enthusiasm. When he arrives at my door, his eyes move up and down my body, turning a much darker shade of green. His breathing intensifies, and his fingers twitch like he’s dying to touch me but is waiting for that final invitation to do so.

He’s so blatantly into me. It’s…nice. This beautiful man could easily date twenty-five-year-old supermodels if he wanted to, but he wants me. He’s wanted me for a long time. He’s literally jumped through crazy hoops to get me.

His eyes home in on my chest. Glancing down at myself, I realize just how flimsy my pajamas are. My hard nipples are visible and poking through the top.

The intensity of his gaze makes my entire body flush. It’s not exactly a hardship having the sexiest man alive looking at me like he wants to devour me.

He stalks toward me, and I back up until he’s inside, closing the door behind him with his foot so his eyes never leave me. They’re practically penetrating me, and now I want nothing more than actual penetration.

I can see the bulge in his jeans growing and growing until it looks almost painful.

Well, I suppose I’m all in at this point.

I reach down and lift my tank top up and over my head, tossing it to the side. My bare breasts are now exposed to him.

That’s his official snapping point, as he lets out some sort of growl that instantaneously soaks my panties. He rushes toward me until his lips crash against mine. His hands move under my thighs, lifting me until my legs are locked around his waist.

He’s so much bigger than me. I’ve been with muscular, tall men before, but none as big and tall as him. He’s so damn broad and strong. I think he could lift me with a single finger.

His hungry kiss devours me like he can’t get enough. Like he wants to taste every inch of my mouth. Like he’s been waiting for an eternity to kiss me. No man has ever kissed me with this much want and need.

The kiss at the bar was slow and sweet. Yes, it was deep, but it’s different from this one. This kiss is frantic and passionate. His tongue moves through my mouth with fierce determination. For a man who doesn’t kiss a lot, he sure knows what he’s doing.

His giant hands slide under my shorts and panties until he’s squeezing my bare ass with brutal force. Enough to possibly leave bruises. He’s bordering on out of control. I love how much he wants me. I feel the same way about him.

I begin rubbing my soft center against his impressively hard one while unbuttoning his shirt. I’m desperate to feel his bare chest on mine.

When I eventually pull his shirt open, I break the kiss so I can look at him.

My eyes drink in his body. He’s complete and total perfection. Yes, I’ve seen him on video, but the live show is so much better.

His chest is muscular and defined, covered in the same dark hair as his head. It moves down his stomach and into his jeans. He has an actual six-pack. What man in his forties still has that?

Good lord, he may actually be the sexiest man ever to walk this planet. When the phrase raw masculinity was created, this is exactly what they had in mind.

Add his unique smell and taste to the physical appeal, and I’m the one now bordering on out of control.

He sinks his face into my neck, licking and biting my skin while simultaneously moving us through the house and into my kitchen. He places me down on my kitchen island with his lips still suctioned to my neck and his pelvis thrusting over mine.

My hands are now free to roam his warm, muscular, domineering body. I want to touch and feel every inch of him. I’m completely caged in by this large man, yet I’ve never felt more free. Lust burns me from the inside out.

His hands knead my breasts until my nipples ache with a need I barely recognize. As if sensing it, his mouth trails down while he circles them with his tongue, teasing me over and over again.

“Suck on them,” I command, unable to wait a second longer.

I feel him smile into my breast before he does as he’s told. His large hands hold my breasts as his mouth alternates between them, ravaging them for minutes on end like they’re his favorite meal.

“More,” I breathe. “I need more.” I thrust my hips up, letting him know where I need him.

With his mouth still latched onto my chest, he rips my shorts and panties down and off my legs with a brutality that betrays his softer demeanor.

His hands, lips, and tongue move down my body until they reach my center. I assume he’ll give it the same treatment he just gave my breasts, but he doesn’t. He kisses it once gently before lifting his head.

His big, rough hands slowly ascend my soft, inner thighs as he parts them, pinning them to the cold marble of my kitchen island. His eyes drink in my most intimate region.

I didn’t plan to have sex tonight, but at least I was smart enough to make sure everything was groomed properly…just in case.