Page 93 of Third and Ten

“It’s okay,” I reply in a shaky voice.

He stops to whisper just over my ear. “Just okay? I’m going to need you to be more specific, in the name of science and all.” He punctuates his statement by taking my earlobe between his teeth, and I accidentally moan. “Noted,” he adds, stepping back to mime pulling a pencil out from behind his ear and jotting down notes on the invisible pad in his hand.

“Stop making fun of me,” I whine, pressing my thighs together to relieve some of the building discomfort.

“I’m just trying to collect some qualitative data and examine the situation objectively, babe. Don’t you want me to figure out the most effective way to get you in the mood—you know, in case the day ever comes when you’re ready to listen to our biological hard wiring?”

I’ve forgotten that he’s shirtless until one of my hands finds its way to his arm, and then my brain gets all foggy and dense again. “What?”

He flexes for me, and the deliciously hard muscles contract under my fingertips. “I just want to be prepared for the right opportunity,” he continues, his lips quirking. “To play my part in evolution…survival of the fittest…all that?”

“JD?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut the hell up.”

“Mm. Make me.”

He growls when I grab his face with both hands and pull him down to meet me, our lips crushing together roughly. It suffices to stop him from verbally teasing me for the next few minutes, at least.

I feel his hands crawling hungrily over my body again. He slips one of them up my shirt, and I whimper in response, cursing my body for being so sensitive to his touch.

“Noted,” he mumbles into my mouth as he continues his experiment. Next, he uses his teeth to tug at my bottom lip. My fingers dig deeper into his arms and he smiles, probably making another mental note about which buttons to push later.

Then he begins trailing kisses back down to my neck. “What else do you like, Tenley? Tell me what feels good. I want to learn everything.” He punctuates the last part with another nibble on my ear, and it’s all so hot that I want to hate him for making me feel so out of control.

Instead, I find myself clenching all my core muscles at once, my toes curling in at the mere sound of his request. “No more talking,” I demand, only because I can’t bear it.

He obliges and brings his lips back to mine. I clasp my hands behind his neck as he palms my backside and lifts me up with ease, guiding me to wrap my legs around his waist. He takes a few steps and bumps into something firm, presumably the small desk in the corner of the room. Then he whispers, “too short,” before effortlessly reabsorbing my weight and turning in a different direction.

Around this time I realize I’m being a little selfish, and my curiosity gets the best of me. I reluctantly free my mouth and take a turn mimicking some of the same moves he’s been using on me, paying close attention to his reactions. It turns out that JD simply likes it all, and I really like the sounds he makes when he likes something.

None of this is helping our current predicament, and all I can do at this point is hope that he has more willpower than I do in my hormone-induced state. We finally reach another solid surface, this one a little higher than the last. He hitches me up before setting me down on the cool stone of the bathroom counter and taking a step back. Then, he clutches me in both hands and grinds his hips roughly into mine. I gasp and pull away from the spot I’ve been attending to on his neck.

He doesn’t even bother to say “noted” that time.

We both look up, staring wide-eyed at one another, chests heaving. His jaw is clenched tightly, the muscles there flexing. I gulp, my legs involuntarily clenching around him and pulling him closer until all that’s left between us is a pathetically inadequate layer of damp fabric.

“Tenley.” He says my name breathlessly, his grasp on my thighs so strong that I think I might find bruises in the morning. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I thought I could…stop. But you were right. You’re so…it’s all so good…” He trails off and captures my lips with his again, arching his back slightly. Unfortunately, the effects of that seemingly modest movement are multiplied by the more sizable evidence of his ability to see that whole reproduction thing through if need be. I try desperately to reach my brain again, searching through the fog for some semblance of control.

Think of non-sexy things.

What had he joked about earlier? Sweaty, smelly, exhausted JD?

Nope, still hot.

I recalibrate and try again.

Okay, childbirth and morning sickness and…babies.

That one backfires, too. My ovaries continue cheering and urging me onward.

Must…not…make a baby. Keep pants on…

But try as I might, I can’t seem to focus on anything with JD still pressed against me. My heels have even mutinied, digging themselves into his back and encouraging him.

I have to do something smart. We’re just about past the point of no return, if we aren’t there already. I remind myself of some of the things Loren pointed out earlier, that I’ll regret sleeping with him this early in our relationship, and that our first time being in a hotel room surrounded by the football team and half of Camellia doesn’t exactly scream romance.

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