Like he’s got me. Like I can rely on him. And I know I can. All summer, Jake’s been there, helping me out wherever he can.
He’s not just somebody new. He’s someone I trust.
“Yeah. It feels really good,” I admit.
Jake nods, searching my eyes like he genuinely cares. “Why don’t you just ride me until you don’t want to anymore? No big deal if you can’t come. Just feel what you want to feel. Do what feels good. Tell me if you want something different. Let me take care of you.”
My throat feels clogged. No one’s ever offered this kind of thing. It’s either go to completion or we’ve failed. I’ve never seen not coming as an option. I didn’t have the choice to just feel good for the sake of it.
“What about you?” I ask. “Can’t just leave you hanging out there.”
A little smile curves his lips. “I will be just fine. You’re sexy enough for both of us.”
“Yeah?”
“Of course. You feeling good is important to me. It’s not fun unless you’re having fun.”
I grin and we’re kissing again. He’s volunteered to be my playground and I get right to work. My hips find a rhythm with his and his hand snakes under my dress again. He pulls away to look into my eyes when his fingers meet the hem of my panties. I bob my head to urge him on. He hooks my panties to the side and glides over my slit.
“You feel so fucking good,” he marvels, shaking his head. “So fucking wet for me.”
I swirl my hips, trying to show him where I need his fingers. My abs shake as I curl them tighter, slowly grinding on him. “This alright?”
“Fuck yes. Show me what this greedy little pussy needs.”
“You,” I whimper and he smirks, egging me on. He finds a slow, steady rhythm with his fingers on my clit and the movement of my hips. He delivers soft sucks to the underside of my jaw. I close my eyes, trying to focus on how it feels versus how it might look.
“Attagirl. Lookin’ awful pretty riding my hand like that. You want my fingers inside you?”
“Yes.”
My hands clutch his shoulders as his thick fingers slip inside me. His gaze is intense, and even though it’s vulnerable to do this with him, I feel safe and cherished. Something raw and undefined passes between us, some new level unlocked. He closes his eyes and tightens his jaw, tipping his head back. “Fuck, baby.”
Baby. He called me “baby.” He whimpered it out, like he’s reveling in the sweet agony. I reward him with kisses, along his stubbled jaw, under his ear, on his lips as I continue to move on him.
“You feel so fucking good,” he rasps.
Seeing him so overcome takes my pleasure higher, and Jake curls his fingers inside me in concert with his thumb on my clit. Moaning, sweating, rolling, gasping. Hazel eyes and the edge of his tattoo and kisses and his forehead against mine. “Jake, I think?—”
“Take it, Darcy. Whatever you need. Use me.”
“Oh, god.”
It’s close. So close I can almost see it. I can feel my hair frizzing in the truck’s humid air and it adds to the sense of our wildness. This is how it goes sometimes, where coming is some finish line in the distance, but this time feels different. It feels like I might actually?—
“Jake,” I whimper.
“Darcy.” He groans, eyes snapping shut and slowing his counter-thrusts against me. “Fuck. Fuck.”
“Did you just?—”
He doesn’t answer directly, but I can tell from the tick in his jaw and the way his legs jolt wider.
Cowboy and pest Jake Warren just came in his pants.
For me.
A curse leaves me. I grind with abandon, his whispers of encouragement in my ear. With a cry, I’m there.
