Page 5 of Fighting Jacob

Her head falls forward with a moan as the shudders coating her skin with goosebumps spread to her nape. “I’m close… so fucking close.”

I add a swivel to my hips, praying it will give her the final push. I don’t even care if I don’t come, but I sure as hell don’t want her heat dismounting my cock until she does.

It appears my wish is about to come true when she digs her nails into my shoulders. Her breathing turns wild as her pussy tightens around me; then, not long after that, she shatters like glass.

When I slow the speed of my pumps to guide her through her blinding climax, her lusty eyes drop to mine. “Don’t stop. Please, whatever you do, don’t stop. Real girls power through the craziness. It’s better this way.”

I return to my previous pace before she came. I thrust into her on repeat, pounding into her with everything I have until her screams grow so loud, I have to stifle them with my hand. She's making such a ruckus, the fog on my windows won't be the only reason the police officers skip the dozen cars between us. It's her vocal announcement of what we're doing.

How good I feel.

How wet she is.

And the best yet, “Oh, God, I’m coming—again!”

Her confirmation arrives a mere three seconds before a baton taps on the window next to my head. Mercifully, it also occurs two seconds after cum rockets out of my cock.

Chapter Two

Jacob

With a misdemeanor citation sitting over the box of Magnum condoms in my glove compartment, I restarted our drive to Lola’s house almost forty minutes ago. We’ve made the trip in silence. I wouldn’t say it’s necessarily uncomfortable. Lola just needs some time to recoup from her two mind-blowing orgasms. I could spark a conversation, but since I’m still riding the same high, my mouth refuses to cooperate with the prompts of my brain.

Tonight was—fuck, I don't have words to describe it. I knew from the moment my eyes landed on Lola that she was different from the other girls I've dated. I just had no clue how different. Most have a three-date rule before granting me access to their cookie jar. Lola awarded me an all-inclusive backstage pass within twenty minutes of meeting her.

I’ll admit, I’m shocked my boldness worked, but as Lola said earlier, we're consenting adults who enjoy sex. Despite the citation in my glove compartment, our car romp didn't harm anyone. It was too fucking good to spark controversy, and I can't wait for round two.

I realize how easy things were handed to me tonight when, within two seconds of entering the driveway of a small but modern brick house in the middle of the burbs, Lola throws open her door, dives out of my car, then charges down the sidewalk. “Thanks for the ride.”

What the fuck?

I throw off my seatbelt so fast, it hits my window before ricocheting back. While rubbing the new bump on my forehead, I peel out of my car and chase her down. My calves scream with every step I take, their earlier cramped conditions not forgotten, but nothing slows me down.

“Do you wanna grab that bite to eat next weekend? I guarantee you’ll make it all the way through your steak this time. Scouts honor.” I cross my heart in an entirely wrong manner. “You might even get dessert this time around—real dessert.”

Lola freezes just outside her front door, her shoulders rising and falling as she inhales big, nerve-penetrating breaths. Several long seconds pass before she pivots to face me. Gone is the big badass she’s portrayed all night, replaced with someone who looks a little petrified. “I had a great time, Jacob, but our fuck didn’t change my stance on dating.”

“Then we’ll go on a date instead.” I nearly have her, until I stupidly add on, “We’ll just grab a beer beforehand—”

“I don’t drink beer.” Her tone is sassy, but the flare brightening her eyes moments ago is still present. “I also don’t do…” she waves her hand between us, “…this.”

“This? What’s this…” I mimic her hand gesture.

She steps closer to me, her nostrils flaring when she detects the smell of sex wafting off my skin. “You want to date.”

“Pfft. No, I don't. I just don't want you to make me look like a dawg. After what we just did, the least I can do is buy you a beer—"

“I don’t drink beer.” This confirmation comes with a stomp of her foot. I’m pleased to say it’s a wobbly stomp that reveals her body is just as achy as mine. It’s a good ache, but an ache nonetheless.

“Wine then? A cocktail? I’ll even order you a cock-sucking cowboy if you’ll agree to go out with me...as a friend.” I add on the last three words in a hurry when her smile switches to a frown. I had her at the cock-sucking cowboy part before I stupidly added the “dating” reference. “Come on, Lola, what’s the worst that could happen? You end up stranded at the bus stop after letting yourself out of my car?” That brings back the smile I’m dying to see. “You’re the Big Bad Wolf, remember? You gobble up men like a gym junkie with a lack of protein, saving us from women who think this is sexy.”

When I drag my hand down my outfit, her eyes follow it. Now I've got her. Her pointed-up nose reflects more than family genes, but she knows what's hiding beneath my baggy shorts and long-sleeve combination, and she's more than eager to test it out for the second time.

After she finishes her avid assessment of my body, she bridges the gap between us. The seductive swing of her hips gains the attention of my cock, not to mention smelling my skin on hers. When she stops in front of me, a grin tugs on my mouth. She has to crank her neck back to peer into my eyes. She’s average height for a girl, but she’s got nothing on my six-foot-five frame.

I struggle not to fist pump the air when she says, “Pick me up Friday night at eight.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

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