The Stopover (The Miles High Club 1)

He runs his hand down my naked back. “I’m fine.”

But he’s not fine—his company’s value is plummeting. How many millions did his family lose today? “Any news?” I whisper as I stare at the graph in front of me.

“On?”

“The case?”

He shakes his head. His jaw ticks in anger as his eyes go back to the graph.

He’s like a raging ball of anxiety; I can almost feel his pain. I need to make him forget this for the moment. I kiss his neck, and he smiles as I softly nip down to his collarbone.

I drop to the floor between his legs, and he looks down at me as he runs his hand through my hair. Emotion runs between us, electricity I can’t explain.

“I missed you when you were away,” I whisper as I slowly slide his boxers off.

He smiles softly as I kiss his dick. It flexes in approval. “I missed my man,” I whisper as I take him in my mouth. “My body missed you.” I need to make him forget where he is, who he is. This stress has to leave. Now I want to be that spontaneous woman he met twelve months ago, the one who blew his mind.

He inhales sharply and spreads his legs, granting me access.

Our eyes are locked as I suck on the most private part of his body, the one that nobody gets to see. He’s thick and hard, and I can see every vein on his engorged length. I lick up his length and then fl

ick my tongue over his end, and I can almost hear the arousal as it runs through his body like a river rapid.

“Fuck my mouth,” I whisper as I watch him.

His eyes darken.

“Take my hair in your hands, and fuck my mouth,” I murmur around him.

His eyes dance with fire, and he grabs my hair in both hands and surges forward.

I’m blessed with a burst of preejaculate, and I close my eyes and moan.

He begins to slide his cock deep down my throat, and I hum around him. What must I look like, on my hands and knees, naked, under my boyfriend’s desk? My own arousal takes shape, and I spread my legs, and he moans as he begins to really pump. I take him in my hand, and my fist follows my mouth as I begin to work him hard.

He needs it hard.

I can see every muscle contract in his stomach as he clenches, and I push his legs open farther and take his balls in my hand.

“Fuck,” he moans.

“Come,” I whisper. “Blow. I want to drink you down.”

His eyes roll back in his head, and he really lets me have it.

I smile around him. I love it when I bring him undone like this. It’s like I hover up in the air and watch with a special detachment.

An audience of one—the best porn on the planet.

His stomach contracts, and I smile as he shoots down my throat. I concentrate on not gagging. It’s hard with a cock this big, but when he opens his eyes, they’re blazing . . . and all my fears are laid to rest.

This is what I love. I love loving Jameson with the unbridled passion that he brings out in me. I’ve never been this woman before, but with him . . . it’s natural. As if he was the missing link in my sexuality. We’ve already had sex once earlier tonight, and that time was intimate and loving. Nothing like this, but just as important.

I keep working him, emptying his beautiful body until he drags me up to him and spreads me over his lap.

His lips take mine, and he moans as he tastes himself in my mouth.

I pull back to look at him, the air between us electric, and our eyes lock.