Happy Hour (Racing on the Edge) (12 page)

BOOK: Happy Hour (Racing on the Edge)
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It was right about then that I realized I was completely naked as well. Took me long enough to realize that—I’d only been that way for the last ten minutes.

I couldn’t see very well, the only light was coming from the bathroom down the hall, but I could see
enough
to know I was in trouble.

Growing up, I always knew the Riley boys were well endowed but
this
...
I may just require medical attention after this. I may have even gasped at this thought but I couldn’t be sure with all the noises he was making. We were both being very focal.

Settling between my legs, his lips grazed over my bare nipples. Slowly, he drew my left nipple into his mouth and sucked gently and then let his teeth graze it before pulling back, repeating the process with my other nipple.

I was dying
...
a slow agonizing death, wrapped in his warm steel embrace.

Suddenly he jerked back looking at me, his brow scrunched together. “Are you okay
...
I mean
...
are you sure, Sway? We’ve never
...
” a shaky hand rose to run threw his mess of hair.

Is he nervous? Why is he shaking so badly?

I nodded, my cheeks blazing like the fiery sun. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he was nervous at the way he was shaking. But I knew Jameson well enough that he was never nervous, why would right now be any different?

When his eyes met mine again, he looked worried. “Are you sure? We’ve never discussed
...
friends with benefits before.”

Friends with benefits? Could I do friends with benefits?

If it meant other women were nowhere near him, then yes, I could do this. If it meant that by some slim chance he would realize he had feelings for me too, then yes, I could do this.

I nodded again; Jameson flashed a soft smile leaning over the side of the bed for a condom in his wallet.

The hesitation returned for a brief moment before his eyes found mine again. With his body pressed tightly to mine, you couldn’t hide much of anything. I could feel him against my thigh and knew he could feel the funbags against his chest. Why I was thinking of our body parts pressed together was a strange thought but that’s what I was thinking.

Knowing this was about to happen, I swallowed slowly feeling the rapid beating of our hearts and trying not to focus on pressing body parts and more on the actual boring about to take place.

Then, with a slow lazy kiss, our bodies joined. He pushed forward gradually with a growl that sent shivers and goose bumps all over me, his body trembling intensely as he did so.

I can’t believe we are actually doing this! We are actually having sex! He’s not pushing me away, he’s pulling me against him and his camshaft is inside me!

The feeling I got when Jameson entered me was amazing, sappy even. I felt whole
...
my crankcase was meant to house his camshaft, engineered for each other.

He gasped and I let out a shuddering gaspy breath against his lips as my bearings adjusted to him.

“Are you all right?” his voice hindered by his harsh breathing. “Should I
...
stop?”

I couldn’t form the words so I simply shook my head against his shoulder placing a kiss into his neck and pushed my hips up letting him know I didn’t want him to stop. My hands moved over the breadth of his hard shoulders urging him on.

Now I’ve had sex before with a few different people but Jameson quickly put them to shame when he had me screaming like a porn star within two minutes.

His hips moved languidly for a while, his hands curling under and over my shoulders to pull me into him, holding me tightly to his body. So tightly, it felt as if his life depended on it.

Intensity and impatience marked everything from his movements to his kisses. Holding my hands above my head against the pillow, his head dipped down to whisper in my ear. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this.”

Say what?

All I could do was moan loudly and then he reached down hitching my leg further up his hip.

“You like that?” he grunted against my shoulder, most of his weight shifted to rest against his arm that was bent near my head supporting him.

“Yes, harder.”

Jesus, you sound ridiculous.

Jameson chuckled breathlessly. “Honey
...
that I can do,” He growled in my ear fisting his hands through my hair, tugging gently before he flipped us over so I was on top of him. “You like dirty talking
...
don’t you?”

I became undone completely with everything, all around me. It was his voice, so low and vibrating that I could feel it pulsing throughout my entire body, every nerve ending reaching out to him. It was his touch, one that I knew so well, firm yet soft and focused.

It really was everything and
so
much more than I ever thought possible. So many times, I wondered what this would be like and now it was happening.

“Yeah,” I moaned eventually to his dirty question because I really did enjoy the dirty talking. You could tell me how to change spark plugs and I was quivering mess.

Right about that point, I began to sound as if I was auditioning for a
Ron Jeremy
movie. I was ashamed at how vocal I’d become.

“I can tell you like car talk too
...
” He whispered in that low gravelly voice he had from time to time. I moaned again when his lips found the sensitive skin on my neck rough with need. His teeth drug over the path he’d just made. “Proper amount of lubrication makes inserting the camshaft easier, you know?”

My response was to moan. I seemed to be doing a lot of that.

Our dirty talking quickly turned to “Do you need a good spanking?” which I enjoyed but when it turned to “Who’s your daddy?” I slapped him across the face and told him to shut the hell up and just fuck me.

And he did.
Oh god
did he.

He had my body bending in directions I never thought were possible without needing an MRI the next day.

He also, to his utter amusement, had me screaming at the top of lungs at times, and a few instances where I was sure I saw twinkling stars.

Wanting to see just how worked up I could get him, I did everything I could to drive him just as insane.

My theory that he too was losing control was confirmed when his head fell back against the pillow, his eyes squeezed shut as he shook his head resisting. “Ah honey, slow down
...
please
slow down.” He moaned.

I was grinning like a fool.

He was also very thorough too, I’ll give him that. I swear he covered every inch of my 5-2 frame with kisses or nips and the occasional pinch or lick.

What wasn’t that comforting was his attention while my ass was in the air with him between my legs behind me.

For one, I’m sure about the rest of society but for me personally, my ass in the air wasn’t really a comforting position, unless you’re a dog. Let’s face it; your asshole is public knowledge when you walk around on all fours like an animal.

And for me personally, I’m not that comfortable with my ass in the air or my asshole. I’m just not when the person behind me was Jameson Riley.

Thoughts of my asshole in the air didn’t last long and soon I drifted completely with
the kissing, the sucking, the pinching, it was all almost too much.

Where’d this boy learn all this and why had I waited so long to indulge? That’s what I wanted to know.

We were molded together—you couldn’t tell where I ended and he began. But when he sucked down on my nipple once more, I couldn’t hold off.

Thrashing around beneath him with total futility, his hands held me in place tightly against him and mattress. With a tingling that started in my toes and settled in my tummy, I literally screamed Jameson’s name loud enough for the entire hotel to hear.

Forget the porno audition.

Apparently
, I was now trying out for the opera.

Jameson chuckled against me, my breathing turned to something resembling a woman in child labor or an animal in heat. It’d been way to long since I had sex that’s for sure.

I soon realized Jameson was past the point of stopping or being able to go slow as his breathing was turning from heavy to panting gasps—grunting with each movement. My head hit the headboard with each thrust while his hands moved from my hips to the pillow behind my head, grasping it tightly as he prepared himself.

I wanted to stop time, slow this down and make it last forever but I knew I couldn’t. After waiting for so long for this, it seemed to be fleeting quickly. I kept thinking I was dreaming until he would move or say something, his voice bringing me back, and I realized it
was
happening.

“Oh god Sway,” he grunted, his body trembling for control, I knew the feeling. “shit
...
I’m sorry
...
can’t hold on any longer
...
” his head fell against my shoulder his teeth sinking into my skin as he threw himself into his movements.  “
Fuck
,” he cried out.

My legs wrapped around his waist and I held onto him anywhere I could, desperate to make this last longer.

He gasped, his body jerking, his eyes squeezed shut tightly as his forehead rested against mine.

A few thoughts ran through my mind at that point. The first was, at least he didn’t squeal like a pig, Mike Tanner, a past fuck did and I was very alarmed by that. And secondly,
hot damn
we just had sex.

Collapsing on top of me, his head turned to the side, his ear pressed against my racing heart. We laid there, breathing as if we just ran a marathon, which we kind of did, when Jameson rolled moving the sheets over us.

Once he pulled out, I felt as though a cold breeze blew over me at the lack of contact between us. He surprised me though. He didn’t go far, just slid to the side and tugged my body against his trailing kisses across my shoulder.

He cuddles after sex?

If possible, I think I just fell further in love with him.

After a couple minutes, I felt him smile pressing a kiss into my hair. “Why were we not doing that from the beginning?”

“You’re so weird.” Tossing my arms over my face attempting to mask my embarrassment and any chance at crying, I shook my head. “Because, we were eleven you pervert.”

He just chuckled but said nothing more.

Moments passed and the surge of adrenaline mixed with anxiety and fear overwhelmed me. Suddenly I felt sick as tears threatened again. I wouldn’t cry though, I wouldn’t let myself. If anything, I’d blame it on allergies or something just as ridiculous.  

Would he regret this in the morning?
Was all my brain focused on.

Moments passed where we remained, the fear embedded further with no relief.

From the morning light coming in through the cracks in the curtains, I could vaguely make out his expression.

BOOK: Happy Hour (Racing on the Edge)
2.85Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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