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Chapter 18

Parker

Plans backfire. It’s a fact of life. More often than not, I’ll set out with a goal, knowing from the start I’m going to be disappointed when things don’t go my way.

That’s not the case right now as the sun begins to crest over the horizon filling Jude’s bedroom with the first hints of daybreak.

I wanted to prove more to myself than him that he isn’t always ready for me like he claims. The body is an amazing machine, but overuse will always win out.

It hasn’t.

We’ve gone several rounds with blow jobs, hand jobs, amazing sex. On the bed, once in the kitchen even though we both agreed to a refueling break, and in the shower. He’s insatiable, and I’m finding that where he’s concerned, so am I.

Even now in his sleep, his cock is hard against my back. My body aches for him—from him—and I can’t seem to get enough.

And that’s where my plans begin to derail. I don’t want it to end. I don’t want to hear the words that he just can’t go again. Even before those words come, I feel disappointment at the sheer prospect of it.

I wiggle, biting my lip when his dick jerks against me. I wonder what he’s dreaming about, finding that I hope it’s me and not some fantasy of a woman whose face he can’t place, or worse yet, someone that he does know and fantasizes about.

His fingers flex against my naked stomach, making me move just a little more. God, it would be absolute heaven if he just lifted my leg and slid into me from behind. I can’t imagine anything better to feed my new addiction than a slow, leisurely fuck right now, and I’m certain that’s what I’m going to get when his mouth presses against my shoulder, his hips working in a circle as if he just can’t help himself.

I’m seconds away from reaching for a condom because even though I want this man to live inside my body for the foreseeable future, I know better than to do anything without protection. I may be a lustful, needy sex addict right now, but I’m not an idiot.

He doesn’t lift my leg. He doesn’t let his fingers roam down the fluttering of my belly.

He rolls away with a groan and climbs out of the bed.

Cock swinging in the early morning light, he turns back to look at me just as he reaches the threshold into the hallway.

“Coffee?” His sexy, sleep-ladened voice only stokes the fire I woke up to.

“Huh?”

A slow smile spreads his face when he catches me staring at his morning erection.

“Coffee, Parker. Maybe breakfast?”

“Are you giving up already?” I ask, rolling to my back and letting my own fingers wander where I was left bereft when he didn’t touch me.

His only response is a husky chuckle before he walks out of the room bare-assed, a temptation I’m unable to resist as I climb out of the bed and follow him.

I don’t move fast enough because he’s walking out of the laundry room with a clean pair of boxer briefs hugging his waist and muscular thighs. Jesus, how does this man have any right being so damned gorgeous? He hides his prowess behind shyness, his perfect physique behind polo shirts and dark jeans. The man is every woman’s wet dream, and I feel a ridiculous sense of accomplishment to have been his first even though it made me take a step back when he gave that confession.

“Take a picture,” he says with a smile.

“I wish,” I mutter.

“I was thinking the same thing. I’m totally down for filming if that’s something you’re into.”

“Yeah?” I find myself asking even though I don’t think I’d ever actually go through with it.

What we have can’t last. Not only do I not do relationships, this man will eventually realize that all sex feels good, not just what we have, and with a cock as ready and eager as his, it won’t be long before he branches out.

I hate the way that affects me, or rather that it affects me at all. I know that this connection will wane. It always does. But it’s the hatred I already feel for the women that will get to experience him that makes me want to take a step back.

“Full disclosure, I’ll totally jack off to it when you’re not here.”

I huff a laugh, the sincerity in his words bringing a smile to my face as my bitterness toward the future fades. I may not have him forever, but I have him right now, and this is the moment I need to live in.

“I don’t doubt that.”

“Coffee?”

“Sure,” I tell him as I take a seat on one of the bar stools.

He fills the coffee pot, taking several quick glances over his shoulder while placing the filter and scooping out the grounds.

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