Page 17
Story: Holly Jolly July
“On your knees,” he orders. I comply immediately, kneeling on the bed with my feet dangling over the edge. He opens a drawer behind me, closes it, there’s a sound of a foil wrapper, a pause, and then his hands are on me again. His fingers curl around my underwear and slide them down my thighs, and I lift one knee at a time so he can slip them off.
“Damn. Look at you,” he says more to himself than to me. “I’ve been missing out onthisall these years?” One hand grabs my hip while the other rubs a slow circle over my ass, then pulls away momentarily to deliver a sharp smack. I gasp, tossing my head.
Then, like he promised, one firm hand encircles my throat while the other rubs his cock around my entrance. He leans over, his chest pressing against my back, until his lips meet my ear. “Tell me you want it,” he demands.
I push my hips back against him and he sucks in a breath through his teeth. I relish this power—though he’s bigger and stronger, he literally has a hand wrapped around my throat andhis cock exactly rightthere, yet I hold the key to his release, and he won’t take it unless I give express permission. I drag it out a moment longer, moving my hips against him, torturing us both.
Finally, I can’t take anymore. I lick my lips and hum against the sensation of his fingers wrapped around my throat. “I want you to fuck me.”
His hand tightens for a quick squeeze, making me gasp. “Manners.”
I’m so wet and aching for him at this point, but him forcing me to wait just makes it hotter. I arch my hips one more time, and then reply, “Fuck me,please.”
The words have barely left my lips before he thrusts inside me. I cry out in pleasure, in pain, at the sudden movement. He keeps one hand around my throat but lifts his chest off me, his other hand squeezing my hip as he thrusts in quick, harsh strokes. I get closer and closer as I listen to him approach his end. We keep this pace up—for how long I don’t know—the sounds of him slapping against me, of my moans, of his stifled grunts, filling the room. When his movements get jerkier, I know it’s time. I reach between my legs and rub myself, which is all I need to come again, clenching around his cock as another wave hits my body. He comes with me, groaning, his final thrusts a frenzied race until he finally stills. His hands release me, and he steps away, letting me collapse onto the bed in a heap.
I flip to my back, my skin flushed and tingling. Jax takes a moment to clean up, then flops down on the bed next to me with one arm over his head like he’s some sort of swimsuit model. And honestly, with that body, he could be.
We look to each other at the same time then share a giddy laugh.
“Sounds like you had a good time,” he says with a cocky grin. “I bet you didn’t expect multiple orgasms when you came into the bar today.”
I give him an exaggerated eye roll and a playful elbow tohis ribs. “I didn’t expect to run into you at all. And I come at least three times when I’m on a solo mission, so slow your roll there, cowboy.”
Jax chuckles and pokes me back. “Guess I’ll have to make up for lost time—and try to beat your record.”
On one hand, I’m glad he’s already thinking about round two. I didn’t see anything going past tonight... but with a body like his and a performance like that, I’m considering it.
On the other hand, I’m slightly annoyed. When did a woman’s pleasure become about men’s own sexual capabilities? Like our bodies are some game to master, stroking their egos as much as their cocks.
“I should get going. My parents are probably wondering where I am.”
“Or,” he says, trailing a finger down my arm. “You could text them to let them know you won’t be there tonight. We could order a pizza, watch some trash TV, go for round two, maybe have a quickie in the morning, and then you can shower here and I’ll drive you back to your car?”
I grin, turning onto my side and propping myself up on an elbow. I regard Jax in all of his sexiness as I mull his enticing plan over in my head. It’s incredibly validating to have Jax yearning for me. I’ve come so far from where I was in high school, no longer pretending to be someone I’m not just to fit in. This version of me is authentic, real, and true—and I’ve attracted the very person I once thought was out of reach.
Leaning in, I plant a slow kiss on his lips. “I like the sound of that.”
Maybe these next two weeks won’t be so bad.
Interstitial
Int. Jenna’s Apartment - Day
Annie and Jenna are sitting on the couch, folding cloth diapers as baby Henry plays on the floor.
ANNIE
Never in my life have I been treated so
poorly at an establishment. And during
Christmas, of all times!
JENNA
I know, and I’ve tried going somewhere else,
but their coffee is divine. Seriously! Have
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