He pulled out and slid two fingers inside her. Jillian responded to his touch with renewed vigor. She wasn’t done and AJ knew one thing … neither was he.
*
“Why are we on the floor?” AJ mumbled with Jillian’s body draped over his chest.
She’d been tracing random things on his chest with her fingernail. After the wall, he lifted her onto the kitchen counter and spread her wide, and then a third time, on the floor, with her on top. Every time he tried to lead them to his bedroom he was met with adamant refusal. Sex had never felt like such a power struggle. It aroused him and frustrated him in equal parts. Jillian took control then relinquished it only to take again, like putting something in a shopping cart and then back on the shelf over and over. Indecisive. It wasn’t a word AJ ever imagined using to describe sex, but that’s exactly what it was with Jillian.
“I only brought over three condoms, but if you have some we could test out the stairs.”
He closed his eyes and rolled his head side to side. “You can’t make up for a six month dry spell all at once. And I hate to play the age card, but dammit, woman, I’m exhausted and my back is killing me. What do you have against beds?”
“It’s getting late. I need to head home.”
AJ grabbed her ass and she grinned. “What in the hell is a vibrating pleasure pocket?”
“Think of it as a dildo for men. Would you like to give one a try?”
“Fuck, no! Why do you sell that shit?”
Her lips pressed to the dried blood where she’d bit his chest. “If I told you, you wouldn’t believe me.”
“You’re probably right,” he mumbled in exhaustion.
She eased off him and grabbed her clothes, opting to wear her undergarments too instead of carrying them home. AJ peeked open his heavy eyelids, admiring her body, remembering the salty taste of her sweat-glistened skin and the feel of her muscled legs clamped around his waist as he rocked into her. She was dangerous, unforgettable, and lethally addictive.
“Thought you were too tired, or are you just saluting me goodbye.” She fastened her jeans.
AJ was fully erect again. Just the thought of her played havoc on his control. “I might need an extra leg to help drag my tired ass into bed.”
She laughed at AJ’s rare moment of humor that he still managed to deliver without a smile. “Good night, AJ … best sex I’ve had in over six months.”
He waited until she shut the door and then he grinned.
“I see you smiling, you grumpy bastard!” she yelled while banging her palm against the sidelight window.
Chapter Seventeen
The loving chime of “ass up, shoes on” woke Jillian three hours before her usual time. She took refuge under her pillow and comforter, a symbolic bug off! Jackson snagged the covers then yanked Jillian’s pillow from her grasp before taking them hostage in the living room.
“Asshole!”
“You’ve been slacking, so I’m taking you for a run this morning,” he called.
Jillian reached in every direction for something, a sheet or blanket, but Jackson took them all.
“Why?” she asked with the most aggravated tone turned up one hundred percent as she plopped down in the chair to tie her running shoes.
“You need exercise like other humans need food and water. This past week you’ve been skipping your evening run and avoiding me every time I mention sparring.”
“Not the same, dickface. I won’t die without exercise.”
Jackson walked toward the door. “No, but I might kill you if you get too bitchy, which is inevitable when you go too long without expending some of that energy.”
Jillian shut the door behind her and raced out in front of him. “For your information, I exercised yesterday while you were on your date.”
“Doing what?”
“Things … like … stretching and endurance type stuff.” Screwing the neighbor. “How was your date?”
“Fine.”
“Fine? Well you’ve seen her three times in the past week, so fine must be code for she’s boring but good in bed.”
“We haven’t had sex.”
Jillian nearly stumbled over her own feet. “You what?”
“She’s younger than me.”
“That is a surprise, still doesn’t explain anything.”
“She’s an easy eleven out of ten.”
“Yada yada …”
“And she’s … a virgin.”
Jillian grabbed onto Jackson’s arm to keep from falling over. “No way … how young is young?”
“That’s just it, she’s twenty-two and her body is …”
“Pig!”
“No, she’s not fat at all.”
She rolled her eyes and shoved him off the sidewalk.
He recovered with a grin plastered across his face. “It’s not my fault. I honestly had no intention of sleeping with her anytime soon. I was serious when I said this Jackson guy is going to take it slow. But on our second date when I leaned over the front seat to kiss her good night she attacked me. The next thing I knew she was straddling my lap and dry humping the hell out of me like a bitch in heat. I actually came in my jeans! What thirty-year-old guy gets dry humped in his car?”