Short Rides (Rough Riders 14.5)

“Perfect synch.”

“Good. Crawl up here and lemme put a smile on your face.”

Jack kissed the tips of her fingers before disentangling her arms. Then he stood and ditched his sweatpants. Not a shock he’d gone commando. She allowed a smug smile she’d already gotten him hard.

He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her. Not the sweet, lazy kisses they’d shared over the past two months, but a white-hot explosion of passion. Keely had to wrap her hands around his wrists to keep from toppling over backward.

“Maybe I want you on your knees in front of me,” he said against her lips.

“My idea. I get to be in charge. Besides, do you really care what position I’m in as long as my mouth is around your cock?”

He laughed softly and pulled away. He stretched out on the bed, spreading his legs and resting his hands behind his head like he was watching TV.

“Is this a challenge?” She scooted between his thighs and let her hair swing across his groin, bracing her hands by his hips. “Because I’m up for it.”

“I know you are, cowgirl.”

Her wet tongue followed the rim of his cockhead, stopping only to flick the sweet spot. Or to go round and round the engorged tip until his belly muscles quivered.

Keeping her eyes on his, she parted her lips, opened her throat and swallowed him.

“Jesus.”

She intended to work him with her mouth. Tease and retreat. Build him up and back off. So when he couldn’t take it anymore, he’d take her. Face to face. Basic boring, missionary style sex. But missionary position was anything but boring with Jack Donohue. It’d been six long months since they’d been able to do it that way. And she couldn’t wait to be pressed beneath the weight of his body and look into his eyes while he made her come undone.

But first she tortured him. Using every trick she’d ever learned with her teeth, her lips, and her tongue to keep him on edge.

Heady stuff, hearing him groan. Feeling his hips buck up. Knowing he clenched his ass cheeks to try and retain some control. Her oral worship of his c**k made her equally squirmy. Her skin tingled from her scalp to her toes. Her pu**y was drenched.

“Keely. You’re killing me here. I can’t hold off.”

Those were the magic words. She raised her head and trailed her hair up his torso as she levered her body over his.

The next thing she knew she’d been flipped on her back and Jack hung above her. “As much as I love seeing my come on your face, I much prefer the look on your face when I do this.” He plunged into her to the hilt.

Keely arched hard. “Yes. More like that. A lot more.”

Jack pressed a kiss on her collarbone. “Can’t. Gotta slow it down.” He rolled his hips. A steady slide in; a leisurely retreat out.

She drummed her heels on his ass. “Jack. Go faster.”

“No.”

Her fingers mapped the muscles in his arms. The smooth arc of his shoulders. The strong line of his jaw. “You’re so pretty, GQ.”

“I’m not f**king pretty,” he half-snarled.

“So very pretty,” she whispered in his ear. Her mouth followed the corded tendon in his neck, loving the taste of him on her tongue.

Jack kissed her in that bone-melting way of his, giving her that fluttery feeling in her belly. She thought for sure her “pretty” comment would have him all fired up to prove his rougher side.

Wait…was there another reason he kept the pace so slow besides his need to constantly prove his “me man, me satisfy my woman” mantra? Could there be a…physical difference for him?

“How does it feel?” she panted against his throat.

“Amazing.”

“Any different? Looser or whatever?”

Jack pulled back and looked down at her. “Feels like I’m making love to my wife after a long stretch of not making love to my wife.” He threaded his fingers through hers and pinned her arms above her head on the mattress. “Watch my face.” His hips began to move again, more forcefully as his c**k shuttled in and out of her.

She could never get tired of looking at him. This stunning man who was perfect inside and out. Perfect because he got her.

“What’s wrong?”

“Not a damn thing. Just thinking that I missed seeing you like this, moving above me.”

“I missed it too. And you’re about to get your request for me to move faster.”

“Yes.”

He pulled out completely and thrust in fully on every stroke. It was glorious reminder how in tune they were with each other. Such a secret thrill to realize having a baby hadn’t changed this between them.

Her breath caught. So close.

“Come on, buttercup. Take me with you.”

The instant she felt the tingling in her groin, signaling her orgasm was about to start, she felt the other tingling sensation in her br**sts. The one indicating that her milk was about to let down.

No. Not now.

Jack had switched into a pushup position, his pelvis grinding against her clit on every thrust, knowing that set her off.

But instead of an outstanding orgasm, Keely watched in silent horror as milk shot out of her ni**les and coated Jack’s chest. Milk dripped back onto her even as more milk squirted out.

He stopped moving.

She’d immediately clapped her palms over her br**sts to try and stop the spray.

Omigod omigod omigod this can’t be happening repeated on a loop in her brain. Her entire body flushed with mortification. “Get off me.”

“What?”

“I said get off me right now!” She shoved him at him.

Jack pushed upright. “Keely? What’s—”

She rolled off the bed and ran into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

Locking the door behind her.

Keely stepped into the shower and cranked it on cold, standing under the spray despite her chattering teeth, hoping the shock of icy water would shut down her milk ducts.

Don’t you mean your udders?

Some days she felt like nothing but a milk machine. And she really had become one tonight. A faulty one, spewing milk all over her husband. While they’d finally been...

She shuffled away from the streaming water, pressed her forehead to the shower wall and sobbed.

Was this really how it’d go? She couldn’t even have sex with her husband because if she orgasmed she’d do her Bessie the milk cow imitation all over him?

Despite the frigid temp of the shower, her cheeks still burned with shame.

Would Jack look at her br**sts warily? Would he even touch them again?