Page 131 of Speak

______

After shopping and dropping off a few things at Damon’s, I head back to Maverick’s, opening the door to find Jonas waiting for me, a bouquet of dahlias, dark sunflowers, calla lilies and dark red roses on the counter. The colors clash but they’re beautiful. My heart zings, popping in my chest, as he rounds the countertop and greets me with a deep kiss, one hand on my hip, the other holding the back of my neck.

“Hey baby.” He smiles against my lips and then kisses my forehead. “I couldn’t stay away. I missed you so much. I texted Coach to let him know I’ll be driving out to West Point since it’s only twenty minutes from here. I just had to see you before the game.”

I kiss him in response, my arms going around his shoulders to keep him close because I hate being away from him with every fiber of my being. His hands wrap around my waist and tug me closer and we just stand there for a moment, holding each other, chest against chest, savoring the others presence.

“I have a question to ask you.” He says against my temple and we finally break apart. He pulls something out of his back pocket and it takes me a moment to realize he’s holding a black mask by the satin string. It’s old and the face piece looks a little Victorian. I tilt my head to the side and scrunch my nose in question.

“Will you be my date to the Homecoming Ball?”

I smile so big it hurts. I rub my nose against his and nod, smile still on my face when I go in for a kiss. He licks the seam of my lips and I grant him entry.

“Fuck baby, I don’t have time. When I get home? Will you wait up for me?”

I smile again and pull away because it’s my turn to surprise him. Just as I go to grab one of the bags I came home with, the door leading out to the garage opens and Maverick and Damon walk in. I greet each with a kiss then continue on my mission. I hear them ask Jonas what’s going on as I grab the bag with the yellow jersey that has his last name and the number nineteen on the back, run to the laundry room, throw it over my turtleneck and some back out.

Jonas groans something animalistic and practically tackles me. “Fuck baby,” I melt. “My name looks so good on you.”

Now I can’t wait to show him my other surprise later on then. I had a little time and happened along a tattoo parlor. I got his jersey number tattooed on my ribcage. Crazy? Probably. Too soon? Maybe. Do I care? No. Not when I can see that just wearing his jersey causes him to practically sink to his knees. His large hand wraps around my middle as he holds me close from behind, tugging my back to his chest, I can feel his hard length on the small of my back as he leans down to whisper, “All that’s missing is my ring on your finger, Mrs. Anderson.”

Arousal doesn’t just pool at my sex, it makes my entire vascular system run rampant, electricity shooting through me as a chill skitters down my spine and the neurons in my brain spaz. I want it. I didn’t know how much I love the thought of possibly being Mrs. Jonas Anderson once this is all over, and it makes me fall in love with Jonas just a bit more, if possible.

We may not have time for me, but it doesn’t mean there isn’t enough time forhim. I turn around and drop to my knees quickly, making quick work of his jeans, and tug him out for me and lick my lips. He hisses as soon as my tongue swirls around his crown, and I do what I can to take him as deep as I can without gagging his groan echoing in my ears.

When I look up, my core burns at the sight of his narrowed eyes focused on me, jaw slack, one hand on his hip holding back his t-shirt and the other coming for my hair. I wiggle my tongue on the underside, sucking as I reach up, stroking him with one hand and bringing up the other to play with his balls.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so good to me. Suck a little harder, yes, good girl, so fucking good… deeper.”

I do, I take him as deep as I can and then hold- swallowing when I feel like gagging and I feel his thighs tremble. I take him out, stroking my slobber all over, fisting his cock, gathering the extra saliva that pooled in my mouth because the taste of him, clean and masculine, always makes my mouth water, I spit on his dick.

“Holy shit, God help me, that was so hot. I’m gonna fucking come, baby.”

That spurs me on. I redouble my efforts, taking him deeper, the hold he has on my hair is tightening, the sounds of me gagging and his groans a cacophony I treasure.

“You gonna take every drop I give you, baby?”

I whimper. Jonas holds my head with both hands by my temples and guides me up and down, pistoning his hips slowly so I take him deeper into my throat. “Just like that baby, fuck, you kill me… so good, so fucking precious, my sick little slut on your knees for me, just couldn’t wait for a taste of my cum, couldn’t you baby? Needed me to fill you up? Made for me, I swear… fuck.” He groans it out as his dick thickens, pulsing in time with the slow thrust of his hips, his eyes never leaving mine until he bows over me and I swallow every drop like I promised.

When he pulls away and I tuck him back in, he stares at me, forest eyes shining with something akin to awe but filled with so much love I can’t take it. He helps me stand and presses a kiss to my cheek and then my lips. “I love you so fucking much, Raven. Fuck I don’t want to leave you. I don’t want to play this game. I want to stay here with you.”

He’s pouting, and God, if I ever said I didn’t like it I’d be lying.

I’m coming with you. I sign.

His eyes light up like I told him Christmas was coming twice this year.

“You want to go to the game?” Damon asks and I jump, completely forgetting he was even here. I nod. There’s a smile on his face that matches Jonas’. “How about you go, Jonas so you aren’t late and we’ll meet you there?”

Jonas’ grin widens. “You all want to watch me play?”

Maverick laughs. “It wouldn’t be the first time. For me, anyway.” Jonas’ head jerks back a little in disbelief. “The game where you got in a fight and barely won by the skin of your teeth. It was entertaining. You’re a good wide receiver, I’d have to say you’re somewhere up there with Larry Fitzgerald. Is football something you’re trying to pursue?” he asks and Jonas’ smile finally falters at the question after he was just preening under Maverick’s words.

“In a different life, maybe. For now it’s criminal law.”

“But if the NFL drafts?”

Jonas grimaces then shakes his head. “It would be a dream but, nah, my future has kind of been set out for me already.”

---