Page 87 of High Velocity

Already I’m tugging at my own shirt. I’m a fucking marshmallow in her hands.

I can feel her eyes on my back as I quickly strip, removing my prosthesis last, before turning to face her. Her eyes slide down my body and it feels like a caress, sending a shiver down my spine. Then she fixes them on my cock as she bites her bottom lip, and a drop of precum leaks from the crown.

“You first,” she insists.

“You’re injured,” I try in a last-ditch attempt to be a gentleman, knowing it’s already way past too late.

She stubbornly shakes her head. “Only my shoulder. Every other part of me is just fine.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Then let me do the work. Get in the tub, Jackson.”

There isn’t a man, alive or dead, who could say no to that. Not one.

I slide down in the warm water and hold out my hand to help Stephanie in. She sinks down with a knee on either side of me, and I can’t resist closing my mouth around one of her pink nipples hovering in front of my face. My arms slide around her, holding her in place with the tip of my cock poised at her entrance, while I feast on her breasts.

“Kiss me,” she orders, as she curls her fingers in my hair and pulls my head back.

Then she immediately covers my mouth with hers as she lets her body sink down, stealing every last ounce of my breath.

I’m pinned down in a slippery tub, helpless against the slow, delicious torture she subjects me to. Her beautiful hazel eyes lock on mine as she has me groaning, nearly pleading for relief. When it comes, I band my arms around her, fusing her to my body as I buck my release up into her.

“You are a fucking dream, Hotshot,” I mumble against the soft swell of her breasts where I’ve pressed my face. “I honestly don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

She urges my head back and smiles down at me.

“You didn’t have to do anything. No sales gimmicks needed. Being you turns out to be exactly right for me.”

I lift my face to give her a kiss, when I notice her wincing.

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

She shakes her head. “Just a cramp, I need to stand up.”

I help her to her feet and, standing up as well, use the hand-held shower and a bar of soap to get both of us cleaned up.

When I wrap her in my biggest towel a few minutes later, she turns around in my arms, placing her hand in the middle of my chest.

“There was a time in my life I promised myself I would never say these words again to another man. Never make myself that vulnerable again. But I didn’t know you then. I’ve never experienced someone who is as strong, as capable, as protective, and even bossy, but at the same time kind, caring, and gentle. I wouldn’t have believed it possible.”

She smiles a little as her eyes convey the message before her lips do.

“I love you back, Jackson Hart.”

Twenty-Eight

Stephanie

“Easy with that stress ball.”

Jackson reaches over and plucks it from my hand.

“She said five minutes, three times a day. You’ve been working that thing nonstop since we took off.”

Working that thing? I can barely make a dent in the squishy material

“But I can do more,” I protest, trying to get the ball back but he tucks it out of reach in his jeans pocket.

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