Page 109 of Rock Bottom Girl

“What?” Oh my God. He wasn’t one of those alpha asshole orgasm withholders, was he? I wasnotinto that.

“I need to see you. I need to be in you when you come.”

I thought about swooning and decided against it. I wanted this orgasm more than I wanted to live into my eighties.

“Jake, hurry the fuck up, or one of us will die.”

He laughed and slapped at my hip. “Roll, baby.”

“Condom, Weston.”

I rolled onto my back as Jake dug through his console. He pulled out an entire strip of condoms as if his console was a safe sex dispenser. I rolled my eyes as he used his teeth on the first one.

He looked sodirty. His chest was bare, the veins in his tattooed arms stood out. And that cock. That magnificent, long, thick cock jutted out of his jeans proudly. I felt lightheaded. And desperate. He rolled the condom on, and I hit myself in the jaw with my knee while I wrestled my underwear off of one leg.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me, Marley?” he asked, shards of glittering glass in his voice. I would have rolled over those shards if it made him touch me.

“If it’s half of what you’re doing to me, I’d say you’re in deep shit,” I guessed.

His green eyes softened for a beat, and then he was leaning over me and pressing a kiss to my mouth. It wasn’t hurried or frantic, but it still had the same effect. His erection prodded at my entrance while his lips gently ravaged my mouth.

He pulled back, still hovering over me. His expression soft, affectionate. He looked like he was going to tell me something I’d treasure for the rest of my life. Something about my under-the-radar beauty or my womanly charms. How I’d hypnotized him with my wit.

“Lose the sweater,” he said gruffly.

I blinked, then laughed. To Jake, that probably was romantic. And I’d take it. With his help, I pulled Mom’s sweater over my head. He threw it into the front seat and then made quick work of my bra.

My usually sensitive nipples were already on high alert, and when the cold night air hit them, I felt them pebble into tight buds.

“Oh my God,” he breathed.

“What? What’s wrong?” Were they lopsided? Did I have weird underwire marks on them?

“I’ve been thinking about your tits since I dumped you in the locker room shower.”

Reverently, he cupped them both. I couldn’t think of anything in this world that could compete with the feel of Jake’s palms on my boobs. Not a litter of golden retriever puppies. Not world peace. Not even triple chocolate fudge brownies with ice cream.

“You’re going to kill me,” he murmured.

I couldn’t tell if he was talking to me or my tits. But we were all good with it.

“Can I?” he asked, still staring at them. I could feel the hair on his hard thighs against mine. Yeah, he could pretty much have his way with any body part right now.

“Yes,” I hissed.

And then his mouth was closing over one pert nipple. I nearly launched myself off the seat. Yeah, sensitive nipples. I mentioned that before. But sensitive nipples with a man who knew what he was doing and wasn’t afraid of really enjoying himself? GAH! Sweet baby cheeses, I wasn’t going to live through this, and I didn’t even care.

“Jake, if you want to be in me when I come, then you better get moving now,” I said desperately. He wasn’t even fucking me with his fingers, and I was still ready to explode.

He pulled back from my breast, leaned in, gave the other one a lick, and growled his approval. “Just so you know. Once isn’t enough. I’m just getting started, pretty girl.”

“Less talking. More orgasms,” I begged.

I watched him fist his cock in one hand. Even wrapped in latex, it was a sight. The Eighth Wonder of the World: Jake Weston’s Erect Penis.

And then he was lining himself up with my entrance. “You sure?”

I nodded. There were a lot of things in life I wasn’t sure about. Should I register independent or choose a political party? Would I have better luck landing a dream job in a big city or a smaller suburb? How did the remote start on my car work?