To Catch A Player

“Yes!” She arched into me and fisted her fingers in my hair, holding me close like she couldn’t stand the thought of me taking my mouth off her. “Oh yes, Jackson!”

I smiled and moved to the other nipple, licking and sucking it, enjoying the way she squirmed with passion. Enjoying the way that every little thing I did to her produced another sound, another shiver that I banked away. For later.

“Yes!” Her lips curled into a beautiful grin that was too enticing not to kiss, so I did. “Mmm,” she moaned and wrapped her body around mine, while I devoured her mouth and slid my fingers between her thighs.

“So fucking wet.”

“Yes,” she moaned breathlessly and arched into me, giving me more of those sweet hard nipples. She was hot and wet, and so fucking tight I could feel the soft pulses of her orgasm already starting. “Jackson.”

“Let go, Reese. Take your pleasure and let go.” She fought it for several long minutes but I added another finger and nibbled her nipples, applying a variety of sensations that overwhelmed her already sensitive skin. “Yeah, just like that. Let go.”

Her fingertips dug into my biceps as she gasped into my mouth, her body frozen in a beautiful unbreakable arch that held my gaze for a long moment. And then she was shaking, crying, convulsing as pleasure swamped her body. Sweat coated her skin and a small smile touched her face as she fell to the bed. “Damn, I needed that.”

“Not the praise I was hoping for,” I told her honestly, “but since we’re just getting started, I can wait for my rave reviews until the end.” Reese rolled her eyes just as I expected, but her gaze tracked every movement I made, removing my shirt and belt and jeans, my boots and sock. Everything, until I stood naked in front of her, my cock jutting out like a damn lighthouse in the night.

“Who said anything about reviews?” She laughed and reached for me but I took a step back and Reese pouted. The surly chef actually pouted and fell back on the bed, teasing me with her spread legs and arched back.

“Tease,” I growled and found my way back to the warmth of her naked curves, pressing my body against hers so I could enjoy our differences. Her soft muscles against my hard ones, her silky skin against the roughness of my hair.

With my weight pressed against her, Reese wrapped her body around mine and let out a sigh as I sank into her. “Oh… yeah!”

I couldn’t deny that it was a sound that gave my ego a boost, but I stilled because it felt too good. She was too hot and too tight, and I wasn’t sure there was enough restraint in all of Tulip to hold me back. It was even better than before, I swear.

“Jackson,” she groaned. “Are you daydreaming? Because I gotta tell ya—”

I cut her words off with my mouth, doing to her mouth with my tongue exactly what my cock did to her body. With every thrust of my tongue and my hips, Reese calmed. No, not calmed—she was still a wild and restless spirit, but the pleasure slowed her down and made her movements slow and drugged.

“So good,” I groaned in her ear, and then I really began to move, like a man on a mission to please his woman until she was a soft, soggy mess in his arms.

That was just what I set out to do. I made love to Reese slow and sweet until she came with a low, nearly mute cry that stole her breath. Then, I bent her over and smacked that sweet ass, pounding her until the dirtiest things spilled from her mouth and she begged me to make her come again. Hard.

Then, some time in the middle of the night, she kicked a leg over my hips and rode out her pleasure until a sobbing, shouting orgasm spilled from her lips and she passed out right on top of me.

Not that I was complaining, I was happy to be the instrument of her pleasure all night long.

Turns out, it wasn’t night that was the problem.

Nope, I woke up in the morning with empty arms and a note beside the coffee pot. I left early, so now you don’t have to sneak out.

That was it—no signature or “hugs & kisses,” nothing. Just classic Reese snark that had grown on me recently.ReeseThe morning after the best sex of my life and I was feeling nothing but guilt. Okay, not nothing but guilt, because last night had been more than explosive, more than combustible… it had been nuclear-level hot. Jackson had taken my body to carnal heights I’d thought only existed in romance novels. And he hadn’t just done it once. Nope, he’d done it over and over and over again.