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He sat beside me and dragged my legs over his. I grinned, thinking he was taking the whole thing seriously and I really liked it.
I slept with him again and after a brief hesitation, he wrapped his big, heavy arm around me and we went to sleep.
Waking up the next morning, feeling very warm and very relaxed, I roll over to look at Rax’s sleeping face. He’s so handsome, especially with his trimmed beard. I liked it long, but this trimmed look shows more of his face and that sexy fucking tattoo that’s dark against his throat makes me want to lick it, and him, all over. I want to memorize his body by tracing all the lines of his tattoos with my tongue.
In repose, his lips aren’t drawn down and the ever-present dip between his eyebrows is gone. He looks younger. The time in prison made him look older than his thirty-eight years, but only because of the deep frown lines and wrinkles that sometimes mar his forehead.
Looking at him now, he looks like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Maybe I can keep him like this for the next two weeks. At least until he leaves.
For some strange reason, that makes me sad, thinking about him leaving. I want to go home, I want to be free, but thinking about Rax leaving makes me feel … sad.
“What are you thinking about so hard?” he asks, eyes still closed.
Grinning, I snuggle closer to him, doing what I wanted to do and licking his throat, right over his tattoo. The rumble of his groan flows through me and I feel his morning wood against my thigh. “I was thinking about doing that,” I whisper, sucking the skin of his tattoo into my mouth. I bite down gently, feeling him jerk and his arm tightens around me. “And that.”
Rolling me over, Rax settles between my legs, kissing down my throat. “What else were you thinking about?” Before I can answer, he kisses me, slowly at first, then deepening the kiss until my cock grows hard and starts leaking. Why won’t he just fuck me already?
Snatching my mouth away, I look up at him with a frown. “What?” He asks, smoothing the skin between my brows, making me smile a little.
“We can’t fuck. I don’t have condoms or lube. I mean, we can still have sex, since oral is sex, and I can jerk you off. You can eat me out and do other stuff to me, but you can’t fuck me. I mean if there’s some oil downstairs, it’ll be fine, but lube is better. Both are messy, but lube is better. And that still doesn’t fix the problem of condoms. We can—”
Rax bends to kiss me again, rougher than he was earlier. I wrap my legs around him and hang on, letting him fuck my mouth with his tongue. When he pulls away, I’m panting, trying to follow his mouth to get more of those deep, hard kisses.
Chuckling, Rax kisses my nose before he slides off the bed. “Zeke got me lube and condoms. We’re covered.”
Oh, I could kiss that man. Zeke must have known it was only a matter of time before I pushed fear aside and wanted to get some dick.
What is wrong with me?
I’ve always wanted to fuck someone that held this air of danger and gruffness. I fucked a few gang members in St. Louis and a man who claimed to be a Hell’s Angel, but never anyone with the resume that Rax has.
I need to see a therapist.
Pushing that from my mind, I sit up in bed. “Yeah? How did he know?”
Rax turns around and looks at me. He stares for a moment, then crawls over to me. When I’m lying back on the bed, Rax moves close to my face. My eyelids flutter shut, anticipating him kissing me like he seems to love doing.
When it doesn’t come, I open my eyes and see Rax looking at me with his head tilted. “What do you think about Zeke?”
Huh? “What do you mean?”
“Think he’s good looking?”
“Is this a trick question?”
Rax shakes his head slowly. “No. I’m wondering. Do you think he’s good looking?”
“Do bears shit in the woods? I’d have to be blind not to see that.”
He smiles. “Would you fuck him?”
Okay, this is weird. Pushing against his chest, I sit up and look at him. “That is a trick question.”
“It’s really not. Listen,” Rax says, thrusting his hands into my hair, “it’s not. I’m asking because I want to know. No more, no less.”
Why not be honest? Two weeks only. “I would. Without a doubt. He might be a little more dangerous than you.”
“Oh, he is,” Rax says, grinning. “Come on. Breakfast time.”
