Page 67 of Middle Ground
I reach behind my back to unhook my bra. The straps slip off my shoulders with ease, and Jackson eagerlyhelps extricate the material from my body. His gaze heats at the sight of my bare skin. I’ve never experienced a man’s eyes roving over me so reverently. Until Jackson, that is.
My fingers thread through his hair, tugging. I urge his mouth toward mine again and I’m rewarded with a kiss that has my thighs tightening around his hips. Jackson groans against my mouth, and then he begins to trail kisses down my neck. He blazes a path down my collarbone, the swell of one breast, and then finally to my nipple, which has gone rock hard under his attention.
His tongue swirls the peak. My head tips back as the sensation washes over me.
At the same time, one of his hands leaves my hip, and then I feel the brush of his fingers against my inner thigh. I ache in anticipation. He isso closeto where I want him to be. But he doesn’t go any farther.
I press my hips closer, asking for his touch. Before now, I’ve been too stubborn to admit it, but this is something I’ve been wanting for a while. Now that the possibility is so near, that fact is undeniable.
Jackson releases my nipple and grins. “Something you want to ask me, gorgeous?”
I shake my head.
He toys with the band of my underwear. “If I slide these to the side, what am I going to find?” he taunts. “Are you wet for me, Ellison?”
“No,” I reply. My breath hitches when I feel the ghost of a touch on my clit, over my underwear.
Jackson sits back. “The truth. Give me one truth, and I’ll think about playing with this pretty pussy of yours.”
He removes his hand entirely, and I let out a whine of disappointment. “Comeon.”
“Answer me honestly, then you can have what you want.”
Half of me wants to continue being contrary, but the other, stronger half is tired of games. I’ve already made it this far—I want my reward.
“Fine.Yes.”
Amusement shines in his eyes. “Yes what?”
My teeth grind together. “Yes, Jackson. I’m wet for you. Happy?”
He grins. “Immensely.”
I want to argue, but he kisses me before I can, and then his hand is back between my thighs. He pushes my underwear to the side and then eases two fingers inside me. My lips part on a silent gasp, feeling the stretch.
I grip his shoulders as I rock against his hand, chasing that pleasure. It feels good having someone else’s hand on me, inside me. When I grind against his palm, I have to bite my lip to stop from crying out.
He pinches one of my nipples, and I almost lose control right then and there. I can feel my orgasm building, like the rise of a tidal wave.
“Jackson,” I pant, “I’m going to?—”
He withdraws from my breast, and he pulls his fingers out, leaving me feeling empty. He simply grins in response to my glare. I want to wipe that stupid proud look off his face.
“Patience, Ellison.”
I frown. “You know I have very little.”
This causes him to chuckle. “With this, you’re just going to have to trust me. I promise to make it worth your while.”
“What overwhelming confidence coming from someone with very little proof.”
“Pull my cock out, baby. I’ll show you proof.”
Yes, please. I almost salivate at the thought. Finally, we’re getting somewhere.
“Tell me you have a condom,” I say. “Because we’ll both be very disappointed if you don’t.”
I usually don’t take my chances and have some on standby. But I ran out a little while ago, and I wasn’t exactly expecting to fuck my business partner on my couch today. My bad.
