Page 88 of Happy Hour

Jameson inhaled a shaky breath, I stroked him once more, this time squeezing my hand a slightly.

“I...uh...not very much,” He answered and then swallowed. “I remember the bar...dancing with you in the middle of the street...” I kissed his neck. “I remember the tattoo place, kind of, Spencer drawing his master piece, and bits and pieces of the closet,”

“Why were we in the closet?” I questioned moving in front of him.

Pushing him against the wall, I dropped to my knees for a change.

Jameson threw his head back, knocking against the tile once again moaning when my lips found his camshaft.

Slowly, I drew him inside my mouth, earning me another moan of pleasure from him.

I was utterly amazed at how one minute we can be having a serious conversation regarding touching on our feelings for one another, and then the next minute, we were having sex.

Jameson’s hands wrapped tightly in my hair while I continued to suck, swirl, bob, and drug my teeth along his length. He didn’t last long that’s for sure. Within a few minutes of my dedicated ministrations, I could feel him try to pull me away.

Instead, I slapped his hands away, drawing him in deeper. Poor fellow, he only lasted another ten seconds before his head slammed back against the shower wall once again, groaned my name.

“Did you take a class on that or something?” he fell beside me.

“Yeah, micro-polishing 101,” I replied splashing some water on my face. “I got an “A” by the way.”

He laughed pulling me into his arms so I was sitting on his lap, straddling him. His expression was yet again, unreadable as he stared deep into my eyes. It was as if he was searching for an answer to question but I hadn’t heard him ask anything.

“What?” I asked softly, embarrassed by the silence and slightly scared of what he’s going to say or thinking for that matter.

“Sway, I...” he paused, his brow furrowed as he continued to stare at me with a fraught expression. His hand rose to cradle the apple of my cheek, his fingers brushing over my lips.

Blinking slowly, the countenance faltered. Instead of finishing what he was going to say, he leaned in pressing his lips to my forehead once.

I sighed contently because this was perfect, bound in the arms of the perfect man. I leaned forward wrapping my arms around his neck pulling my body flush against his. His arms wrapped instinctually around my waist, cradling me to him. This embrace was different from the previous embraces we shared, it seemed...affectionate?

Maybe Emma was right. Maybe my plan was working.

If it’s not working, I truly hope there’s a support group for pit lizards who got their heart broken because I’m going to need one after this.

While I was thinking this, Jameson’s lips never left my wet skin, licking, sucking and biting my neck and shoulders. His mouth was soft, his lips were warm and the stubble on his face was coarse but more importantly, hot damn this boy can kiss.

I soon realized while Jameson’s need may have been met just moments ago—my need had not. Pressed against my wet and ready crankcase was a camshaft that was ready for rotation again.

Pulling his mouth from my neck, I brought it my own.

He mouth attacked me with frantic kisses reaching between us lifting me up so he could slide inside, with his signature low growl.

Gasping this ridiculously loud porn star moan when he entered me, his arms curled around my shoulders, pulling me into him with each avid thrust. His arms were thick and tense, the muscles flexing as he pushed and pulled me against him. His chest was a solid wall of muscle, rippling and defining with every movement he made.

Arching my back in response to all this, his mouth found my nipples again as he started with his nipple trick thing he does so damn well, sparking yet another ridiculous whore moan.

The fact of the matter here was I could give a flying fuck about how loud I was—this all feltsogood. I could also give a flying fuck that Spencer was now beating on the bathroom door for us to hurry up.

Jameson nipped across my chest, his nose swept between the valley of my funbags—the stubble on his cheek scrapping deliciously across my sensitive skin. I couldn’t shut up and I kept moaning, earning a chuckle from him.

I really did sound ridiculous.

“Fuck, youreallylike that, don’t you?” Jameson asked in a low throaty voice.

“You think,” I moaned sarcastically.

He chuckled again. “You’re adorable.” He sucked my lower lip in his mouth sucking gently.

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