My face falters.
“What?”
“Be careful.”
“I won’t hurt you—you know that.” He kisses me again with just the right amount of suction; my body knows who’s in control here. Jameson Miles may have given me control of drink ordering, but it’s glaringly obvious he will never give me control in the bedroom.
Not that I want him to; what he does is sheer perfection.
He begins to lift me, slowly and carefully at first, and we go at a controlled speed. He looks up at me in awe.
“Oh,” I moan. “So . . . good,” I whimper.
His eyes roll back in his head as he lifts me higher and slams me down harder. My hands are on his broad shoulders, and I feel the muscles contract beneath me.
He begins to moan as he slams me onto his body, the look on his face one of sheer ecstasy.
I tip my head back as a freight train of an orgasm comes shuddering deep within me.
“Oh fuck,” he cries out as he holds himself deep inside me. I feel the telling jerk as his body empties itself in mine.
His eyes search mine, and in slow motion, he reaches up and cups my face and brings my lips down to his.
We kiss, and it’s slow, tender, and intimate—nothing like the detached version we talked about.
He’s right here with me. I know he is.
“You are so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs against my lips as he pulls me close.
I lie down on his chest and smile against his skin as his arms wrap around me. I can feel his heart beating hard against mine, and I feel so safe and cherished.
I know this is supposed to be friends with benefits. But it’s not . . . it’s more.
What kind of more I just don’t know.
I feel a hand on my behind, and it gives me a sturdy pat. “Come on.”
I screw up my face and roll toward him. “What?”
“Up you get.”
“Huh?” I stretch and open my eyes. The drapes are pulled, and sunshine is beaming through the huge windows. I look around, half-asleep. “What time is it?”
“It’s eight. Get up. We’re going for a run around Central Park.”
“Who is?” I frown. He’s in a towel and freshly showered.
“Me and you.”
I scratch my head in confusion. “You had a shower to go for a run?”
“I smelled like sex.” He smirks as he leans down and kisses me on the lips.
I wrap my arms around him and hold him down.
He pulls from my grip. “Come on.”
“I have no stuff here. What shoes would I wear?”