Page 49 of The Love Playbook

He shrugs, a non answer that communicates everything.

“It is, but you’re worried I’ll be upset that you think so?”

Another shrug.

I rub his chest. “Jackson. Look at me, please.” I wait until he brings his eyes back to mine. “What we’re doing is normal and natural. Eli’s hooked up with a bunch of women, and you and I both know it. If anything, he’s probably jealous that you’re getting to do things he maybe hasn’t.”

His serious eyes flick back and forth between mine, examining me for … sincerity? As though I’d be anything but sincere about this, especially with someone as easily embarrassed as Jackson.

Rubbing his chest again, I press up on my toes and brush a kiss over his mouth. “It’s alright, Jackson. It’s alright to be private about what you do in the bedroom with anyone else. But it’s nothing to be ashamed of, okay?”

He nods, tipping his head down to follow when I sink back onto flat feet. With one hand barely touching my chin, he kisses me, parting my lips slowly, his tongue finding mine.

I follow his lead, wrapping my arms around him and getting lost in his sensual kiss.

His hands creep down my back, settling on my hips, his fingers digging in. I pull myself closer, as close as I can, and he responds by sliding his hands to my ass and yanking me hard against him. I’m up on my tiptoes, his unyielding grip on my ass keeping me like that until I finally break away from the kiss with a groan. “Let’s go to my room,” I whisper against his lips.

“Okay,” he whispers back, kissing me deeply again before finally releasing me to lead the way. But he’s right behind me, his hands on my hips and rubbing my ass.

This time he’s thankfully not distracted by the contents of my room, sparing everything only a cursory glance before heading for my bed.

Maybe he’s given up on the idea of organizing my things. One can only hope. The last thing I want or need is Jackson in my room creating a spreadsheet for me to follow so I know how many crystals I have and where they’re located. I’m fine with my loosely organized chaos. I know where most things are. And if I don’t … well, that’s my problem and no one else’s.

He lounges on my bed, propping himself up on one elbow and holding out his other hand to me.

Taking his hand, I let him guide me on top of him, meeting his kiss once again, enjoying his hands roaming my body. But I’ve never been known for my patience when I want something. And ever since our text exchange about the plan for today, I’ve been looking forward to this.

I love oral. I really do. But I crave penetration. It’s been months since I was last with anyone. And as fun as this is with Jackson, as satisfying as it is on an intellectual and emotional level, I have to admit that when I realized that anything risking pregnancy was a hard limit for him, I was a little disappointed. And that disappointment only grew when I saw what he’s packing. I want to feel him move inside me, and fingers—again, nice as they are—aren’t the same at all.

And as much as this make out session is lots of fun, I’m ready for things to get moving. Sitting up and straddling him, I slide my hands under his shirt, enjoying the way he reactively flexes under my touch. The fabric bunches around my wrists as my hands find their way to his pecs.

Leaning down, I give him a brief kiss. “Sit up,” I murmur. “Take your shirt off.”

He grips the hem and curls himself up in an impressive show of ab strength to pull the shirt off over his head. Lying back again, he lets the shirt drop to the side.

I take a moment to rub my hands all over his torso, enjoying the feel of the dusting of fuzzy hair across his chest, the thin, almost invisible line down to his belly button, and the silky treasure trail that leads below the waistband of his jeans.

I’ve seen all this before, of course, but haven’t really had the leisure to take him all in quite like this. Our first naked session was about him exploring me more than the other way around. And at game night, we were in a hurry since we didn’t want to be gone so long that people started to wonder where we’d both disappeared to. Though probably someone did notice. Just things ended in such a way that no one said anything to me about it. Did any of his friends hassle Jackson?

I’ll have to ask him later. Maybe. Because now is obviously not the time.

Scooting back, I rub his hard cock through his jeans. His abs jump, and his head falls back on the pillow with a soft groan.

With a satisfied smile, I pop the button and pull down the zipper on his jeans, wasting no time pulling his underwear out of the way so I can get to the bare skin of his cock.

Yes. This is what I’ve been waiting for.

Licking my lips, I scoot back even more, positioning myself between Jackson’s thighs. I pull all my hair to one side, and with my hand holding his dick straight up in the air, I bend at the waist and suck him into my mouth.

“Holy fuck,” he hisses as I blow him.

But this is just the prelude. I can’t wait until we get to the main event.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Jackson

I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to Autumn’s mouth working me over. Her hand jacking me in time with her head bobbing.

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