Inked on Paper (26 page)

It was inevitable.

Chapter Fifty

Jake

I could see it in Presley’s eyes… She’d resigned herself to this the same as I had. Not that it was a hardship, by any means. Sure, I knew together we could come up with a million and one reasons why we shouldn’t do it.

It was too soon.

We’d only known each other for a few weeks.

We had only been on one date.

We’d promised we would start over, take things slow.

We had deadlines to consider. This was the worst excuse in the history of excuses, in my opinion, but I liked that she’d worked to come up with it.

Blah, blah, blah.

Not one of the many excuses could convince me that we’d be walking into disaster if we did, so spending time debating it was pointless and unnecessary.

First, I knew already that sex with Presley wasn’t simple. Not for me. I got the distinct feeling that whenever our bodies joined again—this time both of us in the moment—it was going to be cataclysmic. Life altering. And I wasn’t merely waxing poetic because I was an author and that was how I would set up a scene like this.

No. With Presley, it was more than the joining of my body and hers. At least on my side.

Based on that look in her eyes, she was feeling it, too.

Sure, the physical attraction was there. But the physical part was the easy part. Pheromones were working, hormones moving us forward, bringing us together. Only there was something else at play here, something more than the natural desire to mate. There was intimacy, a familiarity that didn’t make a lot of sense but couldn’t be denied, regardless.

When Presley’s arms wrapped around me, I placed my hands on the top of her head, slowly sliding them down her wet hair, my fingers slipping into the damp strands as I tilted her head back, forcing her to look up at me, wanting to maintain that eye contact. I ran my thumbs over her cheeks.

“You’re smiling,” she said. “What’re you thinking about?”

“All the things I want to do to you. All the ways I want to make you come. How I want to hear my name on your lips when you do.”

Her eyes flared, her mouth opening.

“I want to touch you,” she said, surprising me.

I shook my head. “I’m serious, honey. You touch me and I’m gonna come. That’s all there is to it.”

“And that’s a bad thing?” she asked, her hands gliding down to my ass.

“Not a bad thing … if I’m inside you when I do,” I told her. For some reason, I wanted to be inside her, not in her hand, not in her mouth. Not this time. And I knew for a fact
that
had never been something I’d thought before.

Ever.

Oh, sure, I wanted to know what those sweet lips felt like on my dick. And I wanted to feel her smooth hands stroking me. But more than anything, I wanted to feel her pussy gripping me while she came apart at the seams, her eyes locked with mine, my name on her lips.

However, as hot as shower sex could be, the difference in our heights was going to make that immensely difficult. More so because I wanted to look into her eyes when I was fucking her. Had she been anyone else, bending her over and slamming home would’ve been an easy decision. Not to mention, I was sure that would take place at least once before we left here. Just not right now.

With Presley, I was quickly learning that everything I’d thought I’d wanted before no longer existed. It was an entirely different playing field now. One where the rules were unknown, made up as I went along.

Reaching for the shampoo, I poured a generous amount in my hands, then slid it into her hair, working up a lather while I watched the expressions flitter over her face. I paid attention to her scalp, massaging until she was moaning. My dick was like a steel beam between us, but I ignored it as best I could.

Once I’d washed her hair, I handed her the body wash, then took my turn beneath the shower spray, washing my hair and rinsing quickly. I knew I had to hurry because…

I hissed in a breath when soft, soapy hands gripped my dick.

“Presley… Fuck.” I hadn’t been kidding. I was on the verge of detonation and this wasn’t helping. I bit my lip hard enough so that the pain distracted me. “Please,” I ground out, making the mistake of looking down, watching as she worked my cock. “Aw, fuck, baby… Presley…”

She looked up at me. “I want to make you come.”

I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth. “Want to be inside you… Fuck, Presley.”

She released me and my eyes popped open.

“You better hurry up and rinse off,” she said, grinning from ear to ear though her tone was serious.

The only thing I could do was stare after her, admiring her heart-shaped ass and the tattoos that covered most of her back as she retreated. I was just getting my bearings when she stuck her head back in the shower.

“Please tell me you have condoms.”

My dick jumped. “In my suitcase.”

With another flirty grin, she spun around and left me standing there with my dick now in my hand, gripping it tightly so I didn’t come.

I was rinsed, dried, and in the bedroom in under a minute—not hard to do when the hottest fucking woman in the world was waiting for you in her bed. Naked.

“Goddamn,” I mumbled on a strangled breath, staring at her when I stepped into the bedroom.

She was lying across the bed, on her side, head propped up on one hand, the comforter covering her intimate parts but revealing her leg and her arm, the tattoos that adorned her skin. Her hair was wet, slicked back from her face, and the look in her eyes was enough to set the room on fire.

I flipped off the light, turned on the lamp on the dresser, and crawled over her. I could tell by the look in her eyes that she thought I was going to get right down to business.

She was right.

Only her definition and mine were likely vastly different.

Though my dick was so hard it hurt, I wasn’t ready yet.
She
wasn’t ready yet. I needed to taste her, to explore her before I took her. Like I’d told her this morning, I wanted to do all the things I hadn’t done the first time.

Grabbing the comforter, I pulled it back, revealing the tempting treat beneath. Presley’s eyes widened as I covered her body with mine, forcing her onto her back. I sought her lips, kissing her slowly, allowing our body heat to mingle as I did. Her soft hands slid up my arms, over my back, while I lost myself in her kiss.

When I pulled my mouth from hers and began kissing down her neck, she tried to pull me back. “Not yet,” I told her.

“Jake, please.”

“Oh, I plan to please,” I said, smirking.

“I want to feel you.”

“You will,” I assured her. “And when I make you come … with my mouth … only then will I give in.”

And not a minute sooner.

Chapter Fifty-One

Presley

If I survived this experience, I would be surprised.

Already, Jake had taken my breath away, and that was from the few minutes we’d spent together in the shower.

And now…

Having him focus all of his attention on me wasn’t going to be easy. Based on that gleam in his eyes, I knew I was in for it.

Not that I was complaining. Definitely not.

Only I wasn’t sure I’d ever had a man who turned the heat up like this. Sure, I’d had sex plenty of times, though my partners had been limited. But the truth was it had never gotten this … intimate. The men in my past would’ve simply bent me over in the shower and had their way with me. Without complaint, mind you. From me or them.

Not Jake.

He seemed hell-bent on making me lose my ever-loving mind.

I briefly wondered if he would be the man to ruin me for other men. The one who would show me what it was
supposed
to be like, how good it could be.

“Jake,” I whispered as his mouth left a blazing trail of heat along my chest.

His lips sought my nipple, and I gasped, shocked by the blast of heat that enveloped me. I couldn’t take my eyes off him, transfixed by the confident way he played my body, his tongue trailing over the ink on my skin, his eyes reverently stroking as assuredly as his hands.

I remembered what he’d done to me that morning in his kitchen, how he’d expertly fingered me to orgasm within minutes. His hands, his mouth… I’d never felt as though I was at the mercy of anyone, yet Jake made me feel that way, made me
want
to be at his mercy.

Reaching for his head, I curled my fingers in his silky black hair, needing the touch to ground me as his tongue trailed down my stomach, then lower. I felt warm breath across my mound as he shouldered his way between my thighs.

Already I was wet, aching, in desperate need for him to do those wicked things his eyes promised.

Jake’s gaze met mine again, and the seductive smirk that tilted his lips sent a frisson of heat slamming into me. That was obliterated as more sensation accosted me when he leaned down and stroked me with his tongue, his thumbs parting my folds, baring me to his gaze. I couldn’t look away even though my eyes wanted to close as my body reveled in the pleasure.

His wicked mouth was on me, his tongue delving into me, then curling up to stroke my clit. And when my orgasm rocketed through me, I didn’t expect it, every muscle in my body coiling tightly as an electrical storm invaded my insides. Before I could come down completely, Jake was on me, his mouth on mine, my breasts crushed against his chest, his big hands cradling my head.

I felt safe in his arms. Safer than I’d ever felt before.

“Beautiful,” he whispered against my lips.

Yes, it had been.

But I wasn’t done yet.

Before he could get too far along, I rolled out from under him, forcing him onto his back as I unwrapped the condom. His eyes were like fire as they trailed over me. I sheathed him with the rubber, then straddled his hips. When he tried to pull me down, I refused to go, forcing him to sit up, his big arms wrapping around me, crushing me against him. I managed to work my hand between our bodies, taking his cock in hand and guiding him to me.

Not once did I break eye contact, nor did he.

He hissed and I moaned when the head of his cock breached my entrance, stretching me wide.

“Presley,” he growled seconds before his mouth claimed mine.

At that point, I couldn’t hold back, my tongue sliding against his as I lowered my hips, taking him deep into my body. I was unable to control my movements, so when he fell back on the bed, I went with him, crying out as he rocked his hips upward, filling me completely.

Holy shit.

It was like the first time, just as overwhelming, only better. We weren’t two strangers scratching an itch; this was more than that. A connection had been made, and ultimately, that was playing a huge role in the intensity of our coupling.

Jake cupped the back of my head, holding me to him, his other arm banded around my waist. He allowed me to control the pace as I rocked against him, whimpering because the pleasure was too much.

“Ride me, Presley,” he mumbled against my lips, his arms releasing me.

I sat up, placing my hands on the broad plane of his chest as I lifted my hips, then lowered them slowly, loving the way he filled me, stretched me, stole my breath.

Another cry escaped my lips when he tweaked my nipples, his eyes locked on my face.

“Fuck me, Presley,” he commanded. “I need to feel your sweet pussy squeeze my dick.”

Oh, God. He was a dirty talker and fuck if I didn’t like that. A lot.

My body took over, my mind obliterated by the tingles that ignited inside me, starting at my core and working outward.

When Jake’s big hands clasped my hips firmly, I opened my eyes to look at him, not realizing until then that I’d closed them. His hips pumped upward as he fucked me, his hands holding me still, my body hovering inches above him as he impaled me over and over again.

Neither of us said anything as I soared, mind-numbing bliss gripping me until I couldn’t hold back any longer, giving in to the impending climax, this one even stronger than the first. Shouting his name, I came in a rush as he slammed into me, his hands pulling me down onto him as his dick plunged into my depths. Deeper than I ever thought possible.

A muted roar sounded from Jake’s chest, and I leaned down, crushing my mouth to his when his hips jerked once, twice, then one last time as he growled, a primal sound that triggered another orgasm.

Only when his fingers stopped digging into my flesh did I relax against him, our tongues languidly exploring as we traded breath.

That had been, by far, the most incredible orgasm I’d ever had.

But for some reason, I got the impression that was only the beginning.

And I damn sure couldn’t wait for more.

Chapter Fifty-Two

Jake

I was right and I’d known it from that first time at my condo. Once with Presley would never be enough. Twice wasn’t going to tide me over for long. Hell, a million times might not be enough.

Even now, as I caught my breath and tried to settle my mind, my dick was once again returning to full mast. This woman was quickly getting under my skin. I didn’t want to let her go, enjoying the way she relaxed against me as we fought to catch our breath.

“That was incredible,” she mumbled, lying on top of me as I ran my hands over the smooth skin of her back.

“It was a good start,” I teased.

Presley’s head lifted and her eyes met mine, amusement brightening them. “Is that right?”

“Oh, yeah,” I told her. “We’ve got to make the most of our time here, don’t you know.”

“And you propose we do
this
the entire time?” Presley rocked her hips, my cock still lodged inside her.

Fuck yes. This and only this.
“What other way would we do it?” The pleasure assaulted me once more, causing me to grit my teeth.

Her soft chuckle made me laugh.

Presley sat up, and much to my dismay, she eased off of me, my cock sliding from her body. When she rolled to her back, her arm going over her eyes, I admired the smooth lines of her body. She was so damn soft, which I fucking loved, but the hard edge to her turned me on just as much.

“Be right back. Don’t move.”

She peeked at me from under her arm. “
Can’t
move.”

While she lay there, I quickly disposed of the condom, turned off the lamp, and returned to the bed, pulling the blankets over us as I did.

“Tell me about your tattoos,” I suggested.

“What about them?” Presley asked, snuggling up to me once I was settled.

“Which ones are the most significant?”

Presley shrugged. “They all are.”

“Which is your favorite?”

“The sugar skull,” she replied.

That didn’t surprise me and I understood why. “What about the sunflower?”

“That was a dare,” she said with a chuckle.

“Yeah?” I glanced at her. “You don’t seem like the type to get a tattoo on a dare.”

“Gavin said I wouldn’t put another flower on my body. I proved him wrong.”

I kissed the top of her head.

“What about you? Why the double-headed dragon?”

I stared up at the ceiling, remembering the day I’d come up with the idea. “It’s a reflection of how I feel when I’m writing.”

Presley shifted, her head tilting so she could look at me. “How so?”

I wasn’t sure I could explain it, but I decided to try. “When I’m writing, it feels like I’m two people sometimes, but in the same body. The characters are real to me, living in my head.”

“So you have conversations with them?”

“I do,” I admitted, chuckling. “Even arguments at times.”

“That doesn’t surprise me.”

“The arguments?” I asked.

“No, the talking part. Writing a book doesn’t seem like an easy thing to do,” she said softly.

It wasn’t. There were so many things at play, and sometimes the characters surprised even me. But I didn’t share that. “From where I’m sitting,” I told her, “writing a book is incredibly easy in comparison to drawing the way that you do.”

Presley shifted. “For me it’s natural. At least when I’m in my element. So I don’t see the difficulty.”

That made sense. When I thought about the books I’d written that had practically told themselves in the first draft, I got where Presley was coming from.

“I have an idea,” she said, her hand sliding over my stomach.

“If it requires me to make you come again, I’m game.”

She chuckled softly, but that was quickly stifled by a yawn.

Knowing she was too tired for another round at the moment, I adjusted her in my arms and pressed a kiss to her lips. “What’s your idea?”

“How long is your book supposed to be?”

“As long as it needs to be,” I told her, not sure where she was going with this. I had always aimed for a word goal, but every book was different, every story was different, and this one, I hadn’t yet determined how long it would need to be.

“Okay, then how about for every chapter you write, we’ll … do that again.”

I was only half acting when I pretended to move out of the bed, but Presley quickly pulled me back. My mind was already laying the groundwork for the next chapter.

“Starting in the morning,” she added, her head dropping onto my chest once again.

“You drive a hard bargain, you know that?”

“So I’ve been told.”

Apparently she was exhausted, because within seconds, Presley’s breathing had slowed and her body had gone lax. Lying there in the dark, I continued to hold her, thinking about all that had happened since we’d met. How we’d ended up in this place.

For a moment, fear seized me. Or was that hope?

I wasn’t sure since I’d never felt anything like it. With Presley, things were different. And the honest-to-God truth was that I never thought I’d be the one to think something like that.

Was I ready for something like this? Something serious? Perhaps permanent?

It had been a long time since I’d been in a relationship. Years, in fact. But the worst part of it all was that I didn’t have good memories of relationships to compare to. My mother had been married nine times, my sister had married her high school boyfriend shortly after she’d gotten pregnant with Abby; however, they’d divorced within the first year. And I … well, I’d never intended to settle down, figuring what was the point.

Not that I was jumping the gun. I was not ready to get that far into it, to think that far into the future. Or was I? I couldn’t deny that what was happening between Presley and me was significantly different than anything I’d felt before.

She made me feel things that I’d never expected to feel. I would even go so far as to say that my emotions were relatively level when I was with her, not like the boat was sinking and I was scrounging for a life vest, hoping to be rescued. With her, I wanted to stay where I was, sinking or not. As long as she was with me, I felt safe.

And then there was the sex.

Holy. Fucking. Hell.

Sex with Presley was definitely the most intense thing I’d ever experienced. There was a connection there and I was looking forward to exploring that further.

But first, she needed sleep.

And I … well, I needed to write.

So, being as quiet as I could, I slipped out of bed, grabbed a T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants from my suitcase, then snuck downstairs.

After all, she had told me for every chapter I wrote, we would do that again.

And I fully intended to pick up where we left off, just as soon as she woke up.