Page 49 of Making Over Maris

“The internet said we should make sure we get to know each other first.”

“First of all, quit quoting the internet. And second of all, Jack, I do know you. I’ve known you since high school.”

“This is a different kind of knowing. I want to be sure—”

“You’re not sure?” This, she squawked.

“Oh, I’m sure I want to.” He chuckled. “But I want to be sure it’s right for us. And I want you to be sure it’s right for you.”

“Is that all? Is that the only reason you’re moving so damn slow?”

“No.” He flushed. It wasn’t. “I’m a little…nervous.”

Her lips curled into a smile and she undulated against him. “Nervous?”

“I’ve-I’ve never done this before.”

Sara blinked. “You’ve never… You’re a…”

He bristled. “I’ve been with a woman.”

“A woman?”

He glanced away. She didn’t need to know his number. She really didn’t. “I’ve never brought a woman home and—”

“Fucked her?”

Oh God. The way she said that, hissing it in his ear, made him cross-eyed.

“Jack, I thought you were a horn dog.” She was still kissing him, stroking him, thumbing his nipples—as though she couldn’t get enough. He loved it but he didn’t know how much more he could take.

“A horn dog?”

“You know. A guy who sleeps around.”

He stiffened. “I don’t.”

She smiled. “I can tell. I…like that.” Her hand slipped lower on his abdomen. “Tell me, Jack. How is your health situation?”

“My…what?” Why on earth would she ask about his health? He was in excellent health. Though he did get a hint of acid reflux when he ate Indian food and his blood pressure was a bit—

Oh. That.

He swallowed. She lapped at his Adam’s apple. Sucked on it. “Um. Fine. Good. Clean.”

“Mmm. Me too.”

He gulped as she found his cock, measured it with her palm. Squeezed. Jesus. “Sara, don’t.”

“You like it.”

“I like it too much.” He hated to do it but he couldn’t take it. He angled her off him and into the seat at his side. “I don’t want to—”

“Come? You don’t want to come? Here in the hot tub? With my hand on your cock?” She took hold of him again. It was all he could do to not arch his hips. To fuck her fist. “Maybe I should make you come.” Oh. God. The tone of her voice nearly did him in. “Should I do that, Jack? Should I stroke your cock and make you come against your will?”

“Sara.” The word was a gravelly growl. “Don’t you know what that would do to the alkalinity?”

She threw back her head and laughed. But it was a sultry chuckle. “How close are you, Jack?”