Blitzed (Rules of Possession Book 3), page 15
I reached for him, but he evaded my hands. He went to work on my clothes instead, whipping my shirt over my head with little ado and tossing it someplace. My khaki shorts and underwear quickly met the same fate. I had to get up to get them off and he took that opportunity to get naked as a jaybird. I quickly scrambled back on his lap and he chuckled at my eagerness even as he looked me up and down.
I didn’t bother to hide. I was alright with how I looked. I didn’t have time to sculpt a perfect gym body, nor the inclination. Anyone I slept with had better know and understand that. Judging from the state of his dick, straining against his stomach, he didn’t have a problem with that.
I couldn’t wait any longer. I took him in hand, grasping that warm flesh as I gave him a couple of slow strokes. He was a leaker, and I smeared the fluid around on the tip and then down the sides before I fisted him. He groaned as his eyes slid shut.
I hated cheesy talk during sex, and God knew I’d heard enough of it to last me a lifetime. Still, I couldn’t help but rasp, “You like that?”
“Fuck yes.” He shuddered as I started stroking him in earnest. He tunneled his hands in my hair and roughly pulled me closer. He crashed his mouth over mine and we kissed as if the world would surely end if we didn’t. His tongue plundered my mouth in sync with the rhythmic pulls of my hand.
“You,” he managed when he pulled away, burying his face in my neck. “You, too.”
“After.”
“No, now.” He moved my hand out of the way and grasped us both with his bigger one. I gasped as he started stroking us together . When he asked if it was good, I couldn’t manage more than a grunt. Yes. Everything he was doing was just right.
I leaned forward and drew one of his nipples in my mouth. He immediately jolted, pulling back a pinch, his cheeks blooming with pink. “They’re a little sensitive.”
I eyed the stiff peaks speculatively because I could take or leave nipple play. “Sensitive good or sensitive bad?”
“Sensitive like don’t do that again unless you want this to be a quickie.”
“Oh. Well, why didn’t you say so?” I blinked innocently and he sighed with relief. “I’ll leave them alone.”
Then I leaned forward and licked his nipple again, making him jolt. He hit the couch with his hand…which had no effect on me stopping whatsoever. Instead, I sent him a wicked grin as I sucked one in my mouth and he bucked. I paid undue attention to an area I usually ignored as he cursed my very existence.
Things got a little blurry as he gave up on holding back. The feel of his skin against mine as he dragged us through his fist was just short of heaven and I could only hold on to his shoulders and try to remember how to breathe. He came first with a harsh groan, uncaring of the mess as he spurted again and again over the two of us joined in his grip. I tried to hang on, but sliding through the mess was too damned erotic to watch and feel. He murmured that I should go ahead, that he had me, and I flew apart, just like that, adding my release to the mess.
We sat there for a few minutes, unspeaking, foreheads pressed together. Our shuddered breaths blended in the quiet. Surely all we’d done was part of the hit it and quit it handbook. So was kissing, again and again, just a brush of his lips against mine. Had to be.
I finally pulled away to find him something to clean up with. With a murmur of protest, he reached out to still me. I deftly evaded his grasp. I was no science major, but I was fairly certain if you hung around gravitational pull too long, you were eventually consumed by its power.
After we finished cleaning up, I proved that theory. We made small talk as we found our clothes. We chuckled when I found his shirt hanging on a lampshade because I didn’t remember doing that shit at all. But we only got as far as putting on our boxers before we came together in a flurry of limbs and a mash of his lips on mine.
“Ow,” I pulled back long enough to say. “You bit me, you bastard.”
“Accident,” he panted as I bit his lip right back. Not hard. Just enough teeth to sting. He growled and lifted me clear off my feet. It was either wind my legs around his back or get carted around like a broken rag doll.
We ended up on the couch, me flat on my back as he settled between my upraised thighs, wrapped up in each other all over again. I suppose we could’ve moved things to the bedroom. Taken things a step further. By unspoken agreement, we stayed right where we were. Let’s not make this seem like more than it is.
We frotted and kissed and made out like wild people until he came all over my hand with a gasp and a shudder. Then he returned the favor with relish, playing with my hole and making me blush. I assured him that I wouldn’t be able to come again so soon as he gave his finger a long suck.
“You’re wasting your time,” I insisted.
He tapped my hole with his wet finger and I shivered. “Does it feel good?”
“Yeah.”
“Then shut up,” he said pleasantly.
The moment he breached my hole, I spasmed and came all over my stomach. Rat bastard. He just loved proving me wrong. Although it was hard to deny his methods. He licked up my release as I told him that he was freaky and gross. Then I kissed him and sucked on his tongue thoroughly because freaky gross people need friends too.
“I should go,” he said at one point, glancing at his watch. “I have to get up early for training.”
I could hear the undertones in that deceptively simple statement. He always had to get up early for training. That wasn’t new. He might as well say the sun is hot and the ocean is wet. He was giving me an easy out.
“Is that so?” I was proud that my tone was even.
“Yep. So I’d better get moving. I need a shower because you got me all sticky—”
“Some of that is yours, you bastard—”
“And I like to prepare the fruits and veggies for my smoothies the night before. Makes it a whole lot quicker in the morning.”
“What kind of smoothie?”
“Supergreens.” He shrugged those big shoulders. “I’m on a spinach, pineapple, banana kick right now.”
Nervous butterflies’ wings beat in my stomach, trapped in an invisible cage of their own making. The butterflies all had the same prudent advice. Tell him to leave, they said anxiously.
I didn’t want an out. And I didn’t want him to leave.
“Interesting fact about this house. It has a shower,” I said casually and he went still.
“You don’t say.”
I went on, looking anywhere but at those intense amber eyes. “I also have a blender.”
His mouth twitched in amusement. That motherfucker was going to make me say it. “I wonder if you have spinach and pineapple.”
“I do.”
“Bananas?”
“Yes.”
“Chia seeds? Can’t have my smoothie without chia seeds.”
I huffed out a laugh because he was right to low-key push me. Maybe we weren’t looking for anything serious, but that didn’t make what we’d shared meaningless. I thought he was one of the kindest, most amazing people I’d ever met. Of course, I wasn’t about to tell him that. But he deserved more than a half-assed offer of if you like smoothies, I’ve got the fixins.
“You can manage one day without your stupid chia seeds,” I said, my voice a little rough. “I’m asking you to stay.”
He stared at me for a few seconds before a smile spread over that sexy, dangerous mouth. “Well. Since you asked so nicely….”
He rolled us so that he was on top. He was already hard and heavy against me, and when he rocked a few times, I let out a groan. It felt so good that my eyes rolled back in my head for a few seconds.
“Again? Seriously? I thought you had plans,” I managed even as I met every thrust with a thrust of my own. “Showering. Nasty smoothie making. Sleeping. It was all very adult.”
“Life later,” he said burying his face in the crook of my neck. “Jesse now.”
I wasn’t sure I’d ever lived by that philosophy. Everything else always came first, and I got the leftovers. Maybe…maybe I could try it this way, too. Just for a little while.
“You’re not leaving this house without a rabbit,” I murmured as he worked his way down my body. “Just in case that’s what this impromptu blowjob is about.”
“I’ve made my peace with it.” He sounded amused. “I want the black one.”
“You’re getting the fattest one,” I informed him.
And he took me in his mouth and fried my brain—a thirty-two-ounce slushy all over my fragile circuitry. A quiver of unease stirred in my gut. Mostly because I knew that even if he hadn’t been sucking my brains out through my cock, there was no place in the world I’d rather be. And no one else I’d want to be with.
Attention, please! We are now starting priority boarding for You Are So Very Screwed Airlines. I sighed. All that was left was to decide if I wanted a window or an aisle seat.
16
ANDREW
“It’s too big,” I said with a grunt.
Jesse didn’t seem deterred in the least as he leaned in and gave it another hard push. “It’s not too big.”
I gave him another few seconds of pushing before I complained again. “I don’t think it’s going to fit.”
“Just watch,” he said, completely assured that he knew what he was doing…which he did not.
When the unit finally slid into place, I had to eat my words. The rabbit hutch was not too big and it did fit in the back of my SUV…and by “fit,” I mean I had to lay the backseats flat and shut the soft-closing cargo lift with brute force. I wasn’t entirely sure I was going to be able to get it open ever again.
Maybe it would’ve fit better if Jesse hadn’t jammed ten trash bags, stuffed full of clothes, in the middle row. He looked all too pleased with himself as we got in the front, even though the SUV was so packed with rabbit supplies that he had to carry a bale of hay on his lap.
“I can barely see out the rearview,” I groused, hoping that would put a crimp in his smugness.
It didn’t.
“We probably shouldn’t take the highway, then.”
“You have one rabbit,” I reminded him. “One tiny little rabbit—”
“You’re one tiny little person, and I’d be willing to bet your house isn’t exactly small,” he said as he put on his seatbelt.
“Tiny?” I snorted. “That’s tough talk from someone who barely reaches my shoulder on a good day.”
“Just wait until I get my orthopedic inserts,” he swore.
I guffawed, not bothering to inform him that even with platform shoes he’d still be a small fry compared to me. Talking about his height was a good way to get on Jesse’s shit list. Unfortunately, his shit list was like a timeshare—easy to get on, a misery to get out of.
“It’s not like you put Moon Pie in a small hutch, either,” he accused. “I saw the picture. The damned thing has two levels. By that standard, my bunny’s hutch is a smart little efficiency.”
“You mean the smart little efficiency that’s causing me to drive blind?”
“You have side view mirrors,” he said patting my thigh. That was a lot of confidence for someone who expected me to merge using crossed fingers and hope. “I still can’t believe you named that rabbit Moon Pie.”
“Says the man who named his rabbit Shortcake.”
“Her favorite treat happens to be strawberries. What else would you have me name her?”
He gave me a snooty look before I could answer Strawberry. I had a good duh ready to go, too. “To the mission, Jeeves,” he announced. “As soon as we drop these clothes off, we’ll have plenty of space.”
“People pay for this kind of service,” I groused. “Believe it or not, I have better things to do than ferry you all over the city.”
He didn’t look worried as he looked out the window. He hummed in response, still clutching his hay. “Then why do you keep offering?”
Good fucking question. He’d gotten several other offers from his coworkers at the center. I mean, the nerve. I was chauffeuring Jesse around and I didn’t take kindly to any Johnny-come-latelys.
That pest control fuck, Denny, had even popped up earlier today. I’d managed to weasel between him and Jesse just in the nick of time. I maintained my smile until Jesse hurried off to sign for a phantom package from the fake-ass delivery guy that I swore was in the lobby. Then I informed Denny in no uncertain terms that he was to apply his second coat of poison and pellets and git. Or else I’d apply some pressure to his trachea.
Jesse’s phone binged with a text and he glanced at it before telling me, “Madge says we can pull around to the service door with the donations.”
“Will do.”
“Fair warning before we get there—don’t look her in the eyes,” he said in a tone reserved for making plans to murder someone. “She has some magic hoodoo that can find the volunteer spirit in anyone. Before you know it, you’ve signed all your weekends away and you can’t remember why.”
“You love it,” I said with a little grin.
“Yeah, I do. But I’m fully booked for the next two months.” He grimaced. “More than, actually.”
I could testify to that. I wasn’t sure where he got the time. It seemed like he was always doing, making, or delivering something, and he rarely left the Harbor without a laundry list of more things he just had to do.
“You could tell her no,” I said carefully.
Suggesting that Jesse cut down on the charity work was like waving a red flag in front of a bull. It was pretty much the only thing that he and Joshua argued about. They kept it behind closed doors, but the center walls were thin enough to wrap a spring roll.
“It’s not that easy.”
You can’t save the whole world, Jesse. I gave it one more try. “You can lead a life of service and still make time for yourself.”
“I think calling it a life of service is stretching it a tad.” When I glanced over his way, his brows were drawn tougher in a vee. “And if I don’t do it, who will?”
“Everyone. We’re all supposed to do our part. You treat it almost like…like a mission or something, a mission that you absolutely can’t fail. And even when you’re already at your limit, you take on more.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” he murmured.
“It’s not. But…do you have room in your life for anything else?”
“Like what?”
Like me.
I bit back those words as I turned the corner, mostly because I knew they wouldn’t be welcomed. The homeless shelter came into view and I let out a quiet sigh of relief. Jesse seemed happy to drop the conversation as well as he directed me to the right side of the building.
The service door was already propped open as I put the car in park. A woman poked her head out of the door at the sound of my engine and beamed as she hurried out to greet us. She introduced herself as Madge to me, then grabbed Jesse in a hug.
Madge looked to be in her late sixties. Her skin was still smooth, firm, and flushed with health. The only homage to her age was the thin webbing of lines around her deep-set gray eyes, and a liberal sprinkling of gray in her chestnut-colored braid.
As Jesse opened the backseat door of my SUV, Madge made her way over to me. She took my hands in hers and gave them a brief squeeze. Her hands were hearty and weathered, and it was clear that she did more than push papers all day.
“You must be Andrew,” she said. “I’ve heard so much about you.”
“Good things, I hope,” I said.
“Great things, actually. Jesse can’t stop raving about the things you’re doing down at the center. Just last week—”
“I think we can put the clothes in the donation room,” Jesse said loudly, pushing one of the bags in my arms. His cheeks were pink as he added another two bags on top of that. “Madge, will you lead the way?”
I peered over Bag Mountain at a grinning Madge and winked. “We’ll talk later.”
“We’re busy later,” Jesse said tartly as he marched past, clutching two bags. “We have plans. You remember the plans?”
“No, I’m free as a bird,” I said cheerfully as I fell in line. I was glad he was in front because I was pretty sure he wanted to deliver a swift kick to my posterior.
Madge led us down a hall that was lined with grocery bags to a small room equipped with tons of shelves. Different supplies occupied each row, all neatly organized and labeled.
“Excuse the mess,” she said. “We received a donation from a woman who was featured on an extreme coupon show.”
Jesse chuckled. “Ramen noodles, toothpaste, and sports drinks galore?”
“Mmhmm, and we’re going to use every single item.”
After we deposited the clothes, Madge walked us back out. By the time we reached the parking lot, she was carrying the majority of the conversation. I had a feeling she’d talked a few ears clean off in her day. Jesse didn’t seem to mind …the talking, at least. He gave me several sidelong glances as I listened shamelessly, my arms folded as I leaned against the service door. Any Jesse tidbits Madge let drop, I wanted to hear.
I wasn’t sure why I found him so fascinating. The more I learned, the more I wanted to know. I’d felt that way from the very start. He’d been about as prickly and defensive as one could get, which let me know one thing—there was something worth protecting inside. You didn’t build an eight-foot-tall spiked fence around junk.
As I got to know him better, I got the occasional glimpse over his fence. He was sweet. Funny. Compassionate. And with the kids or animals, he was just a few marshmallows short of fluff. I liked everything I saw, right before he slammed the gate on my nose.
From my nosy listening, I gathered his visits to the shelter were biweekly. He also volunteered at charity drives. Madge was also enthused about the new mobile shower unit they’d raised money for. The homeless could take a ten-minute shower in the unit on certain days of the week, no questions asked.
