“Really? So is that what we’re doing? We’ll each go off to our separate corners and masturbate? Because that’s what I’m going to do if you walk out of here without getting me off.”
His head fell back. “Why would you put that visual in my mind?”
She tugged on the hem of his shirt and brought him to her. “You don’t need the visual in your mind when the real thing is right here.”
His nostrils flared with the intense look he leveled at her. “Just remember, this was your idea.”
She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, trying and failing to hold back her grin. It was hard not to gloat when she knew she was going to get her way. She let out a squeak when he reached down and scooped her into his arms. He set her on the counter and dove straight for that spot between her jaw and collarbone.
“How does that ankle feel?” he asked as he trailed his tongue along her neck.
“Forget the ankle. Worry about this.”
She grabbed his hand and moved it between her legs. He released a desperate moan as he cupped her and pressed upward, the heel of his palm grinding against her.
Taylor braced her hands behind her and dropped her head back, all her thoughts focused on the hand between her legs. He slipped it inside the waistband of her running pants and brushed his thick forefinger against her clit.
She gasped, pressing forward, needing way more than just his finger there.
“Tell me you have some condoms in here somewhere?”
“In my wallet.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out the wallet. While he fished inside for the condom, she helped him with his jeans, unbuckling them and jerking the zipper down. The imprint of his dick pressed against his dark blue boxer briefs.
Mercy.
She tugged at his jeans, but he moved her hands out of the way and pulled both the jeans and boxers down his hips.
Taylor took a moment to appreciate the sheer fucking beauty of his erection.
“Stop staring,” he said as he rolled on the condom. Once he secured it in place, he pulled her to the edge of the counter and spread her thighs wide enough to wedge his hips between them.
“Remember,” he said. “Your idea.”
“I take full responsibility,” she said. Then she sucked in a slow breath as he eased inside of her. Instinctively, her thighs spread wider, making more room for him as he began to move with measured strokes. Taylor closed her eyes and concentrated on the luscious feel of him, the delicious friction causing all manner of sensations to flutter through her.
Reminders of past mistakes she’d made—of that time she’d been intimate with a client—tried to creep into her psyche, but she batted them away. This was different. Jamar was different. It was an insult to compare him to anyone from her past.
He shoved her T-shirt and bra up over her breasts and captured one of her nipples in his mouth, sucking hard as he continued to drive into her with deep, unrelenting thrusts. The strength and heat of him, the overwhelming power of his body; it was too much.
His fingers dug into her sides, his firm grip holding her steady as he pumped harder and faster. Taylor was spellbound by the sight of their bodies connecting in such an erotic, primitive way. A tortured groan climbed up from her throat as the first tingling of impending release started to build low in her belly.
The orgasm hit her out of nowhere, sending a sensual spiral of pleasure shooting from her core to every part of her body. She clutched Jamar’s shoulders and rode the wave of sensation that washed over her, savoring the intense satisfaction suddenly flooding her system.
She felt him stiffen before he came, his arms shaking with the force of his release. Their harsh breaths echoed throughout the kitchen as they both absorbed the aftermath of the last ten minutes.
Taylor tried to hang on to the lingering euphoria, but reality seeped past her defenses, casting an unwelcome light on what they’d just done.
“I told you.”
Her eyes popped open at the sound of Jamar’s raspy voice. “Told me what?” she asked.
“That you would regret this.”
“I don’t,” she assured him, although she wasn’t sure if she was being honest with him or herself.
His heavy sigh was filled with resignation, which told her that he wasn’t buying her denial.
“So where do we go from here?” he asked. “Do we try to pretend this never happened, or can I mention over morning coffee that you’re the best sex I ever had?”
