Page 38 of Nailed

He met my eyes in the mirror, but I was still bouncing on him, and he opened his mouth, shocked, as he came, pinning me hard against him while he emptied himself into my pussy.

“I’m sorry,” Jamie breathed against my back. “I wanted to wait until you came…”

I shook my head. “I did. Downstairs.”

“Not enough,” he said, pulling me down into his arms.

CHAPTER13

Jamie

Imade her come again—in the shower. Then once more, in the bed. She wanted to fuck again, but I refused.

“No,” I said, lifting my head from between her legs sometime in the early hours. “This is penance.”

“For what?” Sarah moaned, writhing under me.

“For everything,” I whispered.

I wanted her again. Desperately. But I knew I wouldn’t be able to. At least not for several hours. I’d come more times in the past weekend than I normally did in a week—in a month—before I met Sarah. But my body wasn’t the same as it was years ago.

Afterward, we lay tangled up in her bed, the moon filtering through a crack in the heavy drapes. It was just enough light to see her beautiful face pressed to the pillow across from me, her eyelids drooping. Outside in the hallway, the last of the partygoers stumbled by, laughing.

“Wait,” I said, rising up on my elbow. “Before you fall asleep, I need to kiss you one more time.”

I leaned forward, but instead of meeting her lips, I kissed the little mole on her jaw. The place I’d dreamed of kissing since possibly the day we met.

She laughed. “What?”

“That’s my favorite spot on you. It’s hard to pick a favorite. Shit, I have several other favorite spots. But when you look in the mirror, know it’s the thing that made me…”

I swallowed. “It’s the place I love.”

Sarah’s eyes grew wet, but she smiled. And, thankfully, she didn’t ask me to elaborate.

“We need to at least get a couple hours sleep,” she said finally. Then she turned and wiggled her back in against me.

My heart was so fucking buoyant, I worried it might burst. I might die with my arms wrapped around Sarah’s bare waist, her ass pressed against my exhausted cock.

Wouldn’t be a bad way to go at all.

* * *

A phone buzzed somewhere, making me blink. Daylight now streamed through that gap in the curtains. Our clothes were scattered all over the floor. But her room wasn’t entirely neat to begin with. She had a couple of shirts slung over the back of the chair, and all the papers from her briefcase spilled out onto the desk. It was cute; I could picture her getting distracted from one thing as she got excited about the next.

I rubbed my eyes, and the phone buzzed again. Bleary-eyed, I bent over the edge of the bed and fumbled in my tux pocket for my phone. There were Sarah’s panties. I grinned. Was I ready for another round? By now, probably.

Finally, I found it. “Shit,” I cursed when I saw the time. It was after seven. I’d planned on heading back to my room under the cover of the night. It wasn’t a great look for the conference’s prom king—as my colleague on the committee had dubbed me—to be walking around in my tux on Sunday morning. Hopefully there wouldn’t be too many people out and about yet.

The buzz had been a text from Chelsea. I opened it up. It was a photo of her holding Sergeant Tom against her chest—un-fucking-precedented. That guy barely let me pick him up. I smiled until I noticed the glint of something on her hand.

I zoomed in. If I wasn’t wrong, that was a diamond.

Had Seamus proposed to his girlfriend? She wasn’t wearing that last week when I walked her around my place, giving her instructions for the cat-sitting.

For a moment, happiness shot through me. Seamus, getting married.

Then my stomach plunged. Seamus, getting married.

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