Ex Games

I could feel my blood rushing as I murmured so no one else could hear. Did I really want to say this in public? “I’m turned on,” I mumbled.

“What was that?”

“I’m turned. On,” I enunciated with attitude. “The same way you’re getting hard as a rock under your jeans.” Sucking on my naked cherry skewer, I let my eyes linger on Max’s jeans. I could actually see the denim fighting against his pulsing arousal. It made every inch of me ache to feel it – in my hands, between my legs, anywhere. I drew in a deep breath. I can’t be in public another second, I realized.

To my incredible relief, Max read my mind. “Do you want to get out of here?”

“Yes,” I answered truthfully. “So fucking badly.”

Chapter Twelve

I awoke in the morning to a stiff cock pressed against my back. A sleepy grin tugged at my lips as I reached behind me to fill my hands with its pulsing warmth.

It wasn’t till I opened my eyes that I remembered where I was.

“Baby,” Jackson murmured, his smile audible in his half-sleep. I froze. It was at that moment that I flashed back to last night – to Max. To being bent over a staircase because we couldn’t make it to his bedroom.

Oh God.

I felt Jackson hardening in my grip as images of last night flashed through my mind. I couldn’t remember the car ride to Max’s apartment but I did remember that it was short. He lived only blocks away, but walking would’ve been impossible for us.

I whipped my dress off the second I got into his duplex. I had been halfway up the staircase when he grabbed me from behind, his hands all over my body as he crushed a hot kiss against the back of my neck. I gasped for breath, buckling to my knees. My fingers gripped the ledge of the step above me and my heartbeat pulsed in my ears, joined by the sound of Max’s clanking belt buckle. I stared at my scarlet manicure as I heard the crinkling of a condom behind me. From his pocket. It didn’t surprise me. I thanked God for it as he slid it on, his tongue drawing a wet, torrid line on my skin as his free hand reached around to cup my pussy.

“Good girl,” he panted in my ear as I grinded my hips against his palm, every nerve ending in my body on fire as I pleasured myself with his touch.

I’d already come by the time he yanked my panties down to my knees. The screaming pleasure was instant when he drove every inch of himself inside me, his thrusts immediately long, deep, so powerful that I felt myself unraveling. The pleasure that seared through me was unreal and somehow, it intensified by the second. I didn’t recognize the sounds that hurtled from my lips as he drilled into me. All I could do was hold on for dear life, my hands grasping for the stair up. I dug my nails into the wooden floor, my arms taut as Max plunged in and out of my soaking pussy, holding my body against his torso with two strong hands wrapped around my breasts.

The second orgasm ripped through my body so forcefully that I’d gone instantly limp. I moaned endlessly, delirious as Max came, his body jerking with every long, hot pump inside me.

It had been some of the best sex I’d ever had in my life. And I hated myself for dreaming about it all night while sleeping next to Jackson.

“Baby, you’re so wet,” Jackson murmured into my hair as he easily slid a finger inside me. A breathy whimper seeped from my lips. I held my breath when I felt his free hand form over mine. He slid my palm up and down, guiding it in slow strokes against his shaft until it felt like I was rubbing hot stone. “I need to put it in, Lara,” Jackson exhaled, wrapping an arm around my waist and bending me at the middle. But just as I felt the head of his cock at my opening, I tore away.

“Wait.” A pang of guilt flashed in my chest as I crawled hastily out of bed. Standing on my side of the mattress, I stared breathlessly at Jackson, who stared back with confusion until his morning grogginess faded. His blue eyes blinked twice before hardening into a glare. I assumed that he was recalling the fact that he’d gone to bed alone, that I hadn’t joined him until sometime past two in the morning.

“Right. Was it good?” he asked, stone-faced.

I was silent as I stood before him, trying to identify my feelings. Why did I feel such overwhelming shame? I had done exactly what Jackson had told me to do so we could resume some sort of functioning relationship. But a heavy guilt remained. Because you enjoyed it way too much, I told myself. Because you haven’t stopped thinking about him since you left Brooklyn. Not even in your sleep.

Shit.

Jackson broke the silence. “Are you going to answer my question?”

“No.”

With steely eyes, he stared for another second before ripping the sheets off his body and getting out of bed. “I have an important meeting at noon.”

I was thankful for the topic change. “With the other Monarch investors?”

“Someone else,” Jackson answered, his voice hard. “You need to meet him so get showered and dressed. We’re running late.”

Chapter Thirteen

I stared in disbelief at Jackson but he looked decidedly out the window as we turned onto Nineteenth Street. I couldn’t believe what he had just told me so casually, as if it weren’t extraordinary news. “Babe, how can you be so nonchalant about this? You do realize that I’ve never even met him before, right?”

We were on our way to meet Jacob, Jackson’s younger brother, who had flown into New York that morning – for the first time in five years.

The first night I’d met Jackson, he had been changing into one of Jacob’s tuxes. His new home gym had paid off in new muscle but had cost him money by rendering his wardrobe useless, too narrow for his new form. Luckily, he had, at his mother’s request, kept all of Jacob’s old tuxes.