Page 20 of Overexposed

Running my tongue over my lower lip, I closed my eyes.You should leave. Get your shit and go. Nothing good can come from waking him up.

I almost snorted at myself.

Okay, yes, I can definitely come and he’d make sure too.The man had a gift.Still a bad idea.

Despite already being on the losing side of that debate, I ticked off a few more reasons tonotwake him up. None of them competed with the one pressing reason coiling tighter and tighter inside of me.

I wanted to wake him up.

I wantedhim.

That night at the club had had nothing to do with work and everything to do with him. Did I sell those pictures? Yes. Did Iplan them? No. Right now, I didn’t have a single camera on me. I wasn’t even sure where my phone was…

Gripping the hem of the hockey jersey he’d dressed me in, I whipped it off. I shed the bra and panties right behind it before I slid back beneath the covers.

The sheets were silky soft, and it was warmer closer to him not that I’d noticed the chill. As I eased over to him, he let out a little sound in his sleep and shifted. I went still as he turned toward me and wrapped an arm around me.

I waited to see if the skin-on-skin contact would wake him, but his low, slow breaths didn’t shift. He was well and truly out. As much as I wished it were brighter in here so I could study him more, I savored the intimacy of being wrapped up close under the blankets and surrounded by our own bubble of darkness.

Just us. No one else. Not the fans, the tabloids, or even just the public to come between us. I traced my fingers over his pec. If I recalled, there was a tattoo just beneath his fourth or fifth rib, with a line of dialogue or a quote scrawled there in text.

I hadn’t gotten a chance to read it. Frankly, I’d been too busy feeling him to be looking at him. With a series of gentle kisses, I worked my way down his chest to his abdomen. The waistband of soft shorts. They’d dragged lower on his hips and left me his adonis belt to explore with my fingers.

The peak of his erection was right there as I nudged the waistband lower. It wasn’t quite fully hard yet, but the semi stiffened as I wrapped my fingers around him. One stroke from root to tip and back again.

He was every bit as thick and heavily veined as I recalled. A low sound vibrated in his throat as he stretched under my light touch. The heat of his leg against my breasts was a light tease but not like the way his scent filled my nostrils.

There was a muskiness but also a clean, almost woodsy scent to him. Maybe it was the room or the sheets or like when hebrought me in here and the combination reminded me ofhim—it was just Gem.

The languidness in his muscles only lasted until I wrapped my mouth around the tip of his cock. The slow dip and shallow thrusting motion stiffened him gradually. The weight of him on my tongue accompanied by the low sounds he released fueled my motions.

With a stroke of my hands over his thighs, I nudged them wider and slid over so I was more firmly between them. The angle worked better. The chiseled strength of his muscles were a delight to explore even as he pressed deeper into my throat.

I checked the motion with care, not wanting to gag or hurt my throat. Thankfully, swallowing around him was more of a delight than a pain. Oral sex wasn’t for everyone, but I enjoyed it—with the right partner.

Gem was very much that partner. He’d gone down on me more than once. It was nice to savor the corded muscle in his body as tension began to radiate through him. A harsh inhale almost made me smile.

“Slick?” The sleepy voice vibrated with a kind of husky need. It had me rubbing my own thighs together. The man had a voice that was sex on a stick, and right now, I very much wanted to ride that stick.

That said, I wanted to do this too. At the question in his words, I rolled my tongue around the tip before stroking it along the underside of his cock and taking him deeper.

“Holy fuck,” he groaned. “Slick…if this is a dream, don’t wake me up.”

A laugh shook me at the demand and plea rolled into one. His breathing came in sharper, little puffs. I could almost imagine the surprise on his face. He did like it when I shocked him, right?

Delight curved through me when he threaded his fingers into my hair. He fisted it but not to pull or jerk. Instead he just heldon and let me set the pace. I caressed his hips and when he thrust upward, I stroked my thumbs in circles.

“Fuck,” he swore, but I pressed my face all the way to his abdomen, settling my nose to his skin and then pulling all the way back. Relaxing my mouth, I held just there with his tip on my tongue.

Light teasing strokes of my nails raised goose bumps along his skin. His hand flexed in my hair and then he gave a tug toward him as he thrust, and I took him all the way to the throat again.

His next words came out a garbled groan. Pleasure flushed through me as I focused on rolling my tongue around his head, then stroking the hot, velvety skin at the base with my fingers.

Each teasing lick or firm caress earned me more groans until it became an entire litany of them. His muscles tensed and his feet were flat against the bed even as he seemed in a fight to keep his thighs open. Despite his hand in my hair, he didn’t hurry me along, only tugged me back whenever I lingered overlong on the tip of his cock.

Was I doing that to tease him mercilessly?

Maybe a little.

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