Jack moved in and out of me, and he told me the most lovely things in my ear, his voice strained with his own pleasure he was taking from my body.
He slid into me and my whole body shook at the feel of him there. He stroked with long strokes once he felt safe to move and the feeling drove other thoughts from me.
“God, Perrin, your body is so hot, so perfect. The things . . ..” Jack breathed. “I want to claim you as mine, Perrin.” He confessed against my skin, now damp with sweat.
“Jack,” I panted, I wanted his hand to stroke me, wanted him to keep hitting right where he was. It felt so fucking good, splitting me open in the best way. “Touch me, please touch me,” I pleaded, trying to get him back to the angle he had been at a moment before.
Jack was stroking into me enough to keep me on edge, but denying me what I wanted for the release I was desperately seeking.
Right then, before I could even get through all of my pleading I was ready to do, he hit my prostate directly.
God, Jack Mann knew how to fuck.
Shivers ran down my body, and heat started up from my hips, running up my back.
“If you touch me, I’m . . .” I warned, despite having begged him to touch me just moments before. I wasn’t ready for it to end yet, but I also didn’t know if I could hold back any longer.
“I know, baby. I want you to. I want to watch you come for me like this,” he said. He slid in forcefully, and then didn’t stop.Fuck. My orgasm came up the back of my spine like a train I couldn’t stop, rolling over me and taking over, slamming into me with a raw, feral intimacy.
I couldn’t help but call out Jack’s name and shutter as he stroked me, but still pounded into me giving me no relief from the electric sparks firing all over my body, only making them rack my body with the aftershocks.
He claimed me, just as he promised he would when I had begged him earlier. Of that I had no doubt. No one had ever owned me so completely, made me so desperate, so wanton and drained me totally, as Jack did.
I felt Jack shake above me, just as I was. And as we fell boneless and sticky and wrapped together on the bed, I knew I was his.
The realization came swiftly and intense. This was it for me.
Jack wastheguy, the forever man I never thought I would really find.
Jack
For weeks after the gala in Denver, we had done the same over again in different places, different ballrooms or the occasional outdoor tent, each time Perrin looked better than the last, making the gala season the best one in my memory. His parents had never reemerged at any of the local events we did, and I was glad. While we talked about it from time to time, it started to recede in importance and became just another thing I knew about him.
He did tell me about running the business interests he still had, and even sought my advice. I had started to do the same, because Perrin was an excellent sounding board I didn’t realize that I had. We talked endlessly about problems we each faced in our businesses, and usually after talking it out with the other, we had figured it out. Although we had started as lovers, become friends, we were now on some new and additional level. Simply, he became the person I could rely on for anything, and my most favorite person in the world.
Today, we were back in Denver, Rita and Ellen dragging Perrin from one boutique store to the next. Quinn had managed to land a magazine cover and article forAt Home in Coloradowith his new condo project and he was desperate for Perrin to help him style the space as soon as he had seen Perrin’s condo.My moms took to the mission with a single-minded determination to engage with Perrin.
I didn’t mind. It meant a few trips like these to the outskirts or some small town adjacent to the urban sprawl, where Perrin would walk though chairs, and bookcases, and couches for hours.
“I like the yellow one,” he said to me, studying a chair with a velvet-like material and mustard yellow tone. I was leaning into him, letting him brush his lips across my temple, and his hands toyed with my hair. Rita and Ellen had tried to steer him over to some other items they wanted his opinion on, but for this brief time they were occupied with other things and I could snake my arms around him and get a front-row to his thoughts.
Suddenly, he snapped his fingers. “It’s because of the painting,” he said, and I saw the smile tug at his lips. I had no idea which of the dozens of paintings we had seen the past few weeks he actually meant. But, his face was an easy read. Suddenly, in moments like this, he saw it.
While I wasn’t sure exactly whatitwas, I knew that whatever look or style he wanted to convey for this space and for Quinn, he suddenly saw it. Probably, saw it to completion. I had seen the look come over his face before, sometimes about decisions like these with Quinn, sometimes with a particular issue with his business holdings in Texas or with a question I had about Mann businesses. With one arm around me, he suddenly was on his phone, calling some of the other stores we had been to, and asking them to hold specific items for him, as he flipped back through pictures he had taken on his tablet. Ellen and Rita made their way back to us, seeing Perrin on his phone.
“He figured it out,” I told them with a wink, as Perrin stepped off to continue his conversation with the art dealer on the phone. His hands brushed against mine, fingertipstrailing until the very end of contact.My momssmiled indulgently at me, and I tried to not roll my eyes. Their like of Perrin, and of my relationship with him — well,lets just say he was still the family favorite.
A few weeks later Ellen told me that she had purchased an item Perrin was looking for to complete the staging for the condo, but it was three hours away in a town called Lyle and we would have to go pick it up. I jumped at the chance to get Perrin away for a weekend. He had been working double and even triple shifts over the past two weeks, trying to cover for some of the other CRNA’s that took vacation time or who were out sick. Finally, everyone seemed back on schedule, and Perrin had not only Friday and the weekend off, but he scrubbed out about mid-day on Thursday. I had our gear packed and him in my Rover by two, and we were headed to Lyle.
Lyle itself wasn’t exactly a ski community. It was more of an eclectic town located near enough to Vail and Aspen to ski either, but its claim to fame was the art galleries it hosted in its quaint downtown area. I knew Perrin would love the place, so I had used the need to collect the piece to get him in my car, out of town, and mine for the long weekend.
We were about fifteen minutes from the town and the roads were getting curvy, but I kept one hand on the wheel and another caught in Perrin’s on the wide console.
My eyes drifted over to him, and he was asleep, golden curls over his forehead, his perfect lips parted slightly, his long, tight body curled as much as it could be in the soft leather chair. It tugged at my heart to see him like that, but to be honest I hadn’t played fair. By the time weleft thehospital after his shift I had the seat warmers up high, and I knew he would be out by the time I reached the interstate. I wasn’t wrong. It was a three hour drive to Lyle and he had been out for all but the first twenty minutes.
I moved my eyes back to the road, the sun was setting, and I had the directions to our destination pulled up. With the recommendation of Quinn who came to Lyle more often than I did, I had rented a small house, tucked into the woods, but actually only a block or so off of the downtown area. We would be secluded but also able to walk to the galleries, restaurants, and everything else that might make our weekend. Suddenly, I felt our hands move and Perrin’s mouth was against the back of my hand.
“Sorry, Jack,” he mumbled. “Didn’t mean to sleep the whole time.” He let go of my hand to place both of his overhead on the roof of the SUV and stretch. He then leaned over the console and rubbed his nose against my neck, kissing me under the ear, and causing my entire body to go on high alert, as if it wasn’t already from the tease of skin from where his shirt slid up when he had stretched.
