Layers (18 page)

I let my tongue tangle with his. It’s lazy and loving and I feel my toes curl.

Ouch!

Our mouths begin to melt into each other. He moans. I moan. The pulsing pain between my legs goes warp speed into pleasure, and then the floodgates open. Holy shit.

Jax grabs a condom and slides it on. Then he slides on top of me and spreads me wide with his hips. He enters me and I suck in a breath, bracing for the pain. But it doesn’t come. My sex endorphins have taken over. Thank fuck. That entire dilemma worry and panic were for nothing. I’m such a spaz.

He takes our hands and entwines them. Don’t you just love that word?
Entwines.

His lips peel away from mine. That’s when I realized that my eyes were closed. I open them and see the look in his eyes. How can I even put it into words, words that you’d understand? Hell, I’m not sure there are any. So I won’t, I’ll just let you fill in the blanks.

Our eyes never part. There is this overwhelming sense of oneness—
one
melting into
one
becoming
one.
I’m afraid that if I blink he’ll disappear and I’ll be alone, truly alone. It’s at this very moment that I realized how much power he has over me. I’ve just let him into that space. You know that space don’t you? We all have one. The space so deep, yet so close to the surface—you feel it but you can’t see it. It’s a space filled with insecurities, utter confusion and aching need. It fucking terrifies you to let anyone get near it and if they touch it you might just die, or wish you had.

And then he moves. It’s unhurried, and gentle, almost to the point of agony. We both let out a long sigh. Our eyes remain locked—we utter no words.

As his pulsating cock slides though my wet and swollen walls—reaching the end—I melt. He pulls out then glides back in. He’s filling me, with more than his body, and it’s just too much, I blink, and then close my eyes.

I’ll let him in—but I can’t let him touch. I just can’t—not yet. So I keep my eyes shut and just feel his body moving within mine. His breath caresses my cheek, then his lips lock onto mine and I smile into them.

“Open your eyes,” he whispers. “I need to see your eyes when you come baby. Open them” he pleads.

His lips press into mine and then he gently tugs, and then bites the lower half. Hell, that does it. My eyes flutter open. And yeah, he’s smiling down on me. He looks so…happy. And I feel myself grin like a fool. I put that smile on his face, and it looks so, so good on him. In my opinion one can never smile or laugh enough.

I untwine our hands and brush mine though his wavy locks. Holy crap it even turns me on when I do. I pull him down into me. And I kiss him. I mean really kiss him. When we pull apart we’re still grinning like idiots, very hot and horny idiots. I drag my hands from his hair, and then grip his fine ass. I tug him into me.

He gets the hint. He’s a smart boy, this one. I’ll have to keep him around for a while. He circles his hips and grinds into me. I moan.

“Is that what you need, baby? Like that?” he asks and pushes deeper into me.

“Yeah, just like that. Don’t stop. God please don’t stop.”

He chuckles. “Why the hell would I? I’d have to be one crazy-assed SOB.”

“Yes…No. Don’t be an SOB. Never stop.” I think that’s what I mumbled. Did you catch it? Do I really care? Hell, no. I’m floating between pleasure and pain—hell and nirvana. (And I’m not taking about the band from Seattle). I just wanted to make that clear, because I want you to get what’s happening here. I’m about to fucking come and I wouldn’t want you to miss it.

Jaxson picks up his pace. “Oh fuck,” he hisses. “Oh fuck, fuck.”

Yeah, that’s exactly what I was going to say. And now I don’t have to. I can just lay here and enjoy the ride. Yeah, I’m just going to ride it out.

And holy hell I do. “Oh. My. God! That feels so fucking good.”

He starts to pump into me at a near frantic pace. “Don’t stop. Jax. God, don’t stop.”

“Never babe, I’ll never stop loving you.”

And he had me at “never”. Because I came so long and hard it almost hurt—no, it did hurt. I moan, as I remain parked in-between pleasure and pain.

“That’s it baby. You’re so beautiful Lex, but when you come babe, it’s like watching someone touch heaven.”

I groan or moan. I think? God I really don’t give a shit. I just touched heaven.

“Again, babe. I need to see you touch heaven again.” He bites down hard on his lip. He’s delaying his own release—his own heaven-touching—until I do again.

Crap. Talk about performance pressure. So what is a girl to do? The only thing she can do. She’s going to come and come hard. But this girl wants her man to touch heaven first.

I pull him down to me and bite his shoulder. And, oh yeah, he lets go.

“Fuck me,” he hisses.

And I do. I take over. I lift my hips and grind into him. It’s hard—like trying to do sit-ups with a one hundred and seventy pound bag of sand pressing down on you. But fuck me, I do it— like my life depends on it. Like Jasxon’s life depends on it. And even when I come I don’t stop. I thrust up into him until he throws his head back and screams my name.

“Lexxx! You. Fucking. Rock. My. World!”

Okay maybe not heaven—close enough.

One week later…

I should be spooning my sleeping lover, eating a bountiful breakfast from a silver tray whilst drinking tea—or smoking an after-orgasm cigarette. Okay, the last part is just plain fucking stupid—I don’t smoke. But I am going somewhere with this. I should be doing anything but what I’m doing. And what I’m I doing you ask? Care to guess? No? Okay. Well, I’m pondering the wet spot.

What the?
Okay, I’m looking at the wet spot that has formed on the bed sheet. Why I’m I doing this? Because it’s not right, it’s too big—too wet.

I think I’m an average kind of girl—in a wet way. You know. When you get all hot and bothered and it pools into your undies. Yeah, that kind of wet—the fucking best kind. By average I mean, that I don’t overflow and it doesn’t drip down my legs. And I don’t make
huge
wet spots on the sheets. And before you go there—no, I’m not one of those girls who can ejaculate. What the fuck is that about anyway? It’s definitely not a
good thing.
Ask Martha S. she’ll tell ya, not a good thing.

So I’m asking myself. “Self. What the hell, self? What is running down your fucking legs?” Self thinks a minute—still thinking—still thinking—and yes, finally—self gets it. The asshat came inside me. Can you freaking believe it. He knows I’m not on the pill. We talked about it, and we agreed. Until further notice—
condoms
will be
used at all times.
I’m clean, he’s probably clean, but that’s
not
the deal. The deal is—you know it—say it with me. C.U.A.A.T
.

I know what you’re thinking. What the hell, Lex? You’re twenty-seven years old. Shouldn’t you have a back–up plan? And, yes, I agree. I should—but in my defense, it was never my intent to start up a
thing
with Jaxson. Yeah, I knew it could happen—but I wanted to take care of some things before we started with our
thing.

I shake my sleeping man. He doesn’t respond. I put more muscle into it. He stirs. “Jax, we need to talk.”

He opens one eye. “I’m sorry baby—I can’t. Give me a couple of hours and I’ll be good to go.”

I evil eye his one eye.

“Babe…just one. Just give me one hour.” He turns over.

Okay, I get it… he’s wiped, whipped, whacked—he’s worn out. He performed beyond my wildest (okay, not my wildest) expectations. But this is not the time for rest; it’s the time for talkin’.

I roll him over onto his back, and I straddle him.

He opens both eyes. At least I’m making progress.

“Baby” he whines. “Fifteen minutes please…fifteen.” He closes his eyes.

I lean over and whisper in his ear. “You’ll be lucky if we ever do it again, dickbrain.”

He opens his eyes.

Now I’ve got his attention.

“What’s going on?”

Now he looks worried. As he should—because I’m about to— rip him a new one.

“Jax, baby?” I faux purr, “Did you forget something?”

He raises a brow in confusion. “What? What are you talking about?”

I sit up on my knees and grab his hand and place it between my legs.

He smiles. The dumbass thinks I want to fuck. Geez Louise. Isn’t it obvious? Do I need to spell it out? Verbalize? What do you think? Yeah, you’re right— I’m going to have to use my words. Like a good little girl—good girls use words.

I push his hand further down my thigh. “Jaxson, what is this?”

He gives me the most bewildered look
ever.
“Lex, baby it’s okay, everything’s going to be okay. Do you know where you are baby?”

“What?”

“It’s okay baby. We all forget things. I’ve personally never forgotten a body part, but hey it’s going to be all right. You’re just tired.”

What the?
I know you’re just dying to ‘what the
?
’ him too. Just hang in there. The way things are going—you’ll get plenty of chances.

I glide his hand back up my thigh, and plant it right over my seeping vagina. “Jax baby, I haven’t lost my mind. I know where I am, and I know the names of all my parts. The thing is Jax, baby. The thing is…I’m wet. Seeping—running down my legs—wet. You make me wet babe— but not this wet.”

The sun has risen—there is light––there is understanding—finally.

“Shit, Lex. I’m sorry. I just got caught up. I’m so, so sorry. You don’t have to worry, I’m good…I mean I’m clean.”

Why do men always say this after they fuck? Does it bug you like it bugs me?

I roll off him. “I know you are. But we talked about this Jax. I hop out of bed, grab my underwear off the floor, pull them up then walk to his closet and grab a T-shirt and pull it on. I walk back to the bed and sit next to him.

“It’s not very probable, but just in case, I think we need to get the ‘morning after pill.’”

“Okay,” he says, while pulling up his jeans.

“I’ll call my doctor, but you’ll have to go pick it up. Or I could go,” I say and raise a hopeful brow.

He walks toward the in-suite bathroom. I follow and silently beg for him to give me a get out of jail free card.

“That’s not going to happen babe. You can’t leave the estate.”

Dammit. I wasn’t even going to pass ‘go.’ “Okay,” I whine-pout. “I’m going to shower in my room. Meet you there in fifteen.”

He kisses me on the tip of my nose. Now how sweet is that? Very. Right?

I return the gesture. Yeah, I’m just as sweet.

One of the greatest inventions known to man is the modern shower. I’m mean, really. Right? Hands down—top ten. Why? Because nothing can rejuvenate you like water—nothing. Take some hot water, add some steam, eight very precisely placed body massaging jets and voila—you’re a new person.

After my shower I do a quick dry of my hair and pull on some sweats. Yeah. It’s one of those days. No skinny jeans or thong for this girlfriend. What I wouldn’t give for some grannie panties right now. I’d give my left nut—if I had one.

I walk out of my closet and Jaxson is sitting on my bed. Crap, I’ve missed him. Yeah, I’m pathetic. He takes my breath away as always. His hair is wet and he sporting jeans—only jeans—oh my.

“Hey you, did you change your mind about letting me bust out of this place?”

I give him a quick kiss—well it started out to be a quick kiss, but those full lips and minty fresh breath—I had to linger awhile.

“God you taste good.” He moans.

“Ditto.” I moan back.

Our lips part—I groan. One thousand one, one thousand two, one thousand three—enough! My lips are back on his. Pathetic you say. I’d like to see you try to part from the most incredible lips
ever.

He pulls away, and I moan-pout. “Babe, I could kiss you for days, but I need to talk to you.” His voice is pained. That can’t be good.

“Okay,” I say and pry myself away. “Jax, I’m not mad about the condom thing. We just…”

He places a finger over my lips. “I know you’re not. It’s…it’s just that…we don’t need to worry about it.”

“Jax, until I’m on…”

He silences me again.“Lex. Please…please let me finish. Stop thinking for a second and just let me talk.”

I don’t think that’s even possible. Believe me I’ve tried; it’s a fucking brain curse, a continuous brain fart. “I’ll try,” I puff out.