His shirt fell to the floor. A zipper ripping open echoed in the quiet room. His wallet dropped onto the bed, followed by a crinkling, tearing sound. The condom package fell on the covers. He moved to his knees behind me and held my hip with one hand. With his other, he stroked his cock along my wetness, then he was pushing into me. My breath caught as his rock-hard shaft breached me, and he slid in, stretching me more as he thrust deep.
Ohhhh. A moan escaped at the incredible sensations unfurling. Jack gripped my hips with both hands and retreated in a slow, smooth glide before he surged into me again.
I whimpered, feeling every bit of him this way. In and out, harder, faster, he thrust. He wrapped my loosened hair in his palm and pulled me upright against him. His cock causing a deeper friction at this awkward angle—it felt impossibly good. He pumped his hips, working his erection into me. His other hand slipped across my torso and squeezed my breast, tugging at my nipple. His mouth found mine, kissing me deeply.
My body quickened, my orgasm gathering momentum. His hand left my breast and found my swollen clit. With a firm roll of my throbbing flesh, I tore free of his plundering mouth and cried out as I climaxed, a flood of immense pleasure consuming me.
His hand slipped across my waist like a band, and he held me tight against him, surging harder and faster into me, once, twice. A low groan escaped him, the sound incredibly sensual, then he stiffened and found his release.
Jack lowered his brow to my shoulder, breathing as hard as I had been moments ago.
Several moments passed, then he pressed a kiss to my nape before he withdrew from my body—my super-sensitive core protesting the action—and moved away.
I flopped onto the bed on my belly, my legs like limp noodles.
“You’re gonna kill me,” I moaned into the covers.
“A great way to go, I’d think.” His voice, a little muffled, came to me from the bathroom.
I laughed and groaned. The bed dipped, and he lay down beside me, naked now, having discarded the condom and his pants.
“So,” he said, stroking my back. “Round two, or should we go down and wait for your parents—?”
“Oh, shit!” I flung out my arm, almost smacking him in the face, and rolled off the bed. “I forgot. I need a shower and change. Jack, stop lying there, c’mon!”
He gave me an amused stare, moving to rest on one elbow, watching me run around like a puppy chasing its tail as I grabbed my discarded clothes. Then he rose like some dark-haired pagan with that inked shoulder and pec, his pale eyes pinned on me.
“Nuh-uh, get that look off your face!” Laughing, I danced back. “You’re not distracting again.”
With that sexy smirk still on his mouth, he dove for me, and I dashed into the bathroom. He didn’t let me shut the door…
* * *
A half hour later, as I scraped my damp hair into a topknot and clipped it, my cell on the nightstand buzzed. I scurried over and glanced at the truncated message from my mother. My stomach hollowed out, nerves taking over. “They’ll be here in five minutes,” I breathed.
“It’ll be okay.” Jack crossed to me. He’d already changed into jeans and a t-shirt. “We’ll tell them whatever you feel comfortable with.”
I nodded, then shook my head. “No. It’s better you lead up to it.”
“All right.” He smiled, grasped my left hand, and slipped my wedding band onto my ring finger. “You can wear this now.”
“Ohhh.” I stared at it. When he’d first put in on me, I didn’t have time to enjoy it, not when adrenaline was spiking so high, terrified that Margo’s spies would stop us.
The circle of diamonds glittered in the late-noon sunlight. I stared at the symbol of our commitment to each other, my chest squeezing with emotions.“It’s beautiful. Thank you.”
Smiling, Jack slid the thumb ring with my initials onto his ring finger. “I’m glad you like it.”
“I’m so sorry I gave you that—wow, it fits!”
He shook his head. “For as long as I’ve known you, Ray, you’ve worn this. Yes, I had it made larger because it means a lot to me. C’mon, we don’t want to keep your parents waiting.”
No matter what he said, I would get him a better one when we had our big to-do.
I straightened my gray USF t-shirt over my jeans and slipped on my sandals.
As we came downstairs, Marcy crossed to the corridor leading to the kitchen. She slowed and smiled at us. “I showed your parents to the terrace. They’re with Mr. Griffin.”
“Thanks, Marcy,” I responded, my thumb stroking my ring. As we made our way to the terrace, I heaved a deep breath, trying for calm. “I’m glad Nigel and my parents hit it off. Maybe it’s good that they came over so we could tell them now, together.”
