“Can you push down a little more?” I asked, trying to bring his attention to me.
“Huh?” Cole seemed truly confused.
“It feels better for me if you push down,” I said, trying to explain.
“Oh. Uh, okay,” he said. I moved my hips with him, guiding him where I wanted him. He wasn’t getting it. That’s okay. I could try something else.
“Can I get on top?”
“Sure, babe,” he said, as if I’d asked if we could order pizza for dinner.
Still, I tried. I rode him, watching his eyes, guiding his hands to my breasts.
“Shit, Jessie, you’re too hot,” he gasped, then lost himself inside me. I smiled, because I did love getting him off. But I like getting off, too. I rode him through his peak, enjoying his sated expression. “Did you go?”
“Not yet. Can I keep going? You’re still hard.”
“What?” He looked at me like I’d sprouted another arm. “You always get off.”
I didn’t have the heart to tell him that no, I didn’t always get off. I brought his hands to my hips and started to move again. “What if you put a finger in my ass?”
“What the fuck is this, Jessie?” The disgust on his face was heartbreaking. “Since when do you ask for it up the ass?”
My cheeks flushed. “Forget I asked.”
He narrowed his eyes. “I feel like I don’t even know you right now, Jess. What the hell?”
“I wanna come, Cole. Can I grab a toy to use together?”
He scrunched up his nose. “Together? Those are... yours. Foryou. Alone. But I guess? Make it quick, though. I’m tired.”
Consider the wind officially out of my sails. “Just forget it.” I climbed off him and shoved a wad of tissues in my crotch. I hobbled to the bathroom to get ready for bed, stewing as I brushed my teeth. Maybe I was being unfair. He really didn’t know I hadn’t gotten off all those other times. That wasn’t his fault.
But the fact that he wouldn’t work with me to finish the job when he did know I didn’t get off was 100% his problem. I seethed.
When I came back to bed, Cole was already asleep. But not me. Another long, sleepless night likely awaited me.
Chapter6
Mikey
When I got home from the arena around midnight, I threw on my swim trunks and headed for the rooftop pool. Yeah, it was cold as shit, but that was the point. In and out of the pool and hot tub should make it at least comfortable enough so I could sleep.
I didn’t expect anyone to be up there, so I nearly jumped out of my skin when I saw a figure by the pool.
Jessalyn, sitting with her phone out, playing some podcast, and working on some knitting.
“Hey, Sweet Cheeks,” I said. She startled.
“Jesus, Jockey, you’re always sneaking up on me,” she scolded. Then with a death glare, she started gathering her things.
“Wait, wait, don’t leave on account of me,” I said. “I won’t bother you. You can keep listening to your thing. What is it?”
“A murder podcast,” she said spitefully. “I don’t want it to be a group listening party.”
“Suit yourself. But don’t leave. Can’t we chat?”
“I think the other night proved we can’t,” she huffed.
