Sex with Jacks had never been sexy or fun. It had been a duty: Lie there. Take it. Hope he finished fast and left me alone afterward.
But this? This was different.
I hadn’t gotten off in forever, and Adam had been low-key flirting with me for weeks with his little looks and secret touches.
I was sensitive to all of it.
Every. Single. Thing.
With a shaky breath, I reached back and locked the door behind me.
A little relief wouldn’t hurt. Right?
I laid back on the bed, slipping my hand inside my soaked shorts, my fingers wrapping around my cock. Already hard. Already leaking.
Slowly, I began to stroke.
Of course, my mind immediately wandered to Adam.
Adam, with his perfect ass, his beautiful hands, his mouth and those lush, kissable lips. I let my imagination run wild, no brakes, no holding back.
I pictured him on top of me, his mouth hot and soft against mine. The quiet sounds he’d make when he slid inside, the way his big hands would grip my hips, holding me in place as he thrust—deep, slow strokes, hitting that little spot inside that made me lose my mind.
It didn’t take long.
I was already knotted up, already desperate, and when I came, it was hard and fast, making me gasp and shudder.
Afterward, I cleaned up quickly, feeling a little ashamed. God, I hoped I’d been quiet enough.
At dinner, I tried to play it cool, but I was pretty sure Adam could smell it on me. Stupid heightened shifter senses.
Still, we enjoyed our meal, talking about everything except what had happened.
I didn’t know if Adam hadmeantfor me to see him naked, or if I’d just been at the right place, right time.
Either way, what happened had happened. And now? I hadplentyof fodder for my spank-bank, because I wouldn’t be forgettingthatsight anytime soon.
After dinner, I offered to do the dishes. I didn’t mind. Adam cooked 95% of the time, though he’d been giving me tips lately. I could manage more than just boxed mac and cheese now.
“You sure?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I said. “You cooked, I’ll clean. That’s only fair.”
Adam smiled at me, the corner of his lip quirking up. “If you say so,” he murmured, striding off into the living room.
A few moments later, I heard the TV flick on.
Adam liked to unwind with some comedy sitcoms after work, and usually, I joined him once I had showered for the evening and was ready for bed. It had become one of our little nightly routines.
Elbow-deep in sudsy water, the sound of laughter from the TV in the background, I suddenly felt…strange. The hairs on the back of my neck prickled, making my insides quiver.
I turned slightly, glancing over my shoulder—and there was Adam, leaning in the doorway, watching me.
I offered a slow smile. “Wanna help?” I teased.
But Adam didn’t move.
He just stood there. Staring. Almost like a predator.
