She gripped it, needing both hands to do him justice, and he swore even as he backed away from the sink a bit to give her more room.
He was breathless when he asked again, “What are you doing?”
“Isn’t it obvious? I’m making salad. Now what should we do next?”
Chapter Five
Jack did his best to hold on to his control while Ann held him in the palms of her hands. He’d never once, not in his wildest dreams, imagined Ann jerking him off while he prepared dinner.
“Now what do you do after you get it all wet?” she murmured against his back as she stroked him up and down. So slow, yet those soft hands of hers pulled him closer to the edge faster than he’d come in years. He felt all of sixteen again, coming too soon, too fast, too much with the girl of his dreams.
“Um, Ann, you might want—”
“Stop talking and show me what you can do with a colander,” she said, laughing against his back. “My, you sure have a large…carrot…in your pants.”
He wanted to laugh with her, but he had to focus not to come all over the sink. And the food. And her hot little hands.
“See, I’d think I should peel the veggies first. Long, slow strokes so I don’t tear anything important. The skin is pretty fragile, right?”
She worked him up and down, so slow, then faster. He heard himself breathing in time to her movements, heard too her soft little pants and knew he wasn’t the only one aroused.
Which made it worse.
“Yeah. I’d get my lettuce all wet. Put my great big carrot into the bowl, then add some creamy dressing. Do we have any of that, do you think?”
“Oh yeah. Fuck, yeah.”
Her hands moved faster, and he had to help her get him there. He put a hand over hers, showing her how to hold him, to put the pressure just under his cockhead, while he moved her other hand to cup his sac and fondle him.
“Let’s get some of that creamy dressing ready, hmm?” Her breasts rubbed against his lower back, and he sensed the familiar tightening in his balls. He’d never look at salad the same way again. “When can I taste it, Jack? I’m hungry…”
Her fingers tightened, and he groaned as he came, spurting all over his belly, her hands, the freaking sink. He couldn’t stop jerking as she continued to pull his orgasm from him with both hands.
When he’d had all he could take, he weakly nudged her hands aside. Still unable to believe she’d given him a handjob all on her own, he cleaned himself up and tucked himself back into his jeans.
“So when’s dinner going to be ready?” she asked, wiping her hands on a towel.
He could only stare, noting the color on her cheeks, the sparkle in her eyes so dark they looked black. She hadn’t been unaffected, but her humor and sly tone suggested she’d liked being in control. Having him—literally—in the palm of her hand.
Jack had to clear his throat before he could answer. “Pretty soon.” Christ, he’d come in mere minutes. But who could blame him? Even he couldn’t hold himself to impossible standards when a woman like Ann fondled him to climax so unexpectedly. He glanced at the sink. “The lettuce is a wash, though. I mean, it’s not happening.” He didn’t want to think where all his mess had landed. Not to mention he’d crushed a good bit of the lettuce when she’d started touching him.
She laughed. The tease. He was dying to feel between her legs, to touch her wet warmth, but she looked so pleased with herself right now he didn’t want to jinx anything. He was definitely getting a taste of her for dessert. But for now, he’d let her think she had control. This little game between them felt important, but how it might matter later he couldn’t say.
She didn’t seem to mind that he’d gotten off and she hadn’t. In fact, he’d say she enjoyed it. “No salad. But steak and beets, right?”
“Yeah. I’ll find us something else to go with it.”
“No, I’m fine. I don’t eat much.”
He studied her, liking everything he saw. “You wouldn’t. You’re tiny.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Not so small I can’t still kick your ass, Bloom.”
“Have I told you how cute you are when you cuss?”
“Dickhead.”
“Just beautiful.”
