Page 31 of Promise Not To Fall

My overly drunk, really horny, and kind of tired eyes find his. He has to know how bad I want him.

I knew when I saw Jake in the bar mixing up my black magic, I wanted him. Up against the wall, in that fancy shower, overlooking the water, doesn’t matter where as long as it’s a flat surface. I’m not going to be picky. I just want to be fucked. And I meanfuckedwith a capital F. Hell, caps the whole damn word because I mean business. I want kinky shit tonight. I wanna be walking bowlegged with a limp to the pool in the morning and ordering coffee with whiskey in it for no other reason but to assist in the muscle soreness.

I’ve dated men before. Older men. Man’s-men type of guys. Ones who are controlling and wear two-thousand-dollar suits and know with 100 percent certainty what they want out of life. Hell, I’ve even dated men twice my age before. Maybe it’s the daddy issues I have, but regardless, I’ve sadly been with enough men to know when I see one who is a game changer.

Jake… Island Boy… he’s in a goddamn league of his own.

Let me put it to you this way. I love football. I do. And I’ve always compared men to positions. Tight ends, fullbacks, running backs—you know the drill. Seldom do you run into the quarterbacks, because they’re never free agents. They’ve already been signed to their permanent team… and by team, I mean they are already in the perfect relationship with the perfect woman. More than likely married. So forget about finding yourself a quarterback. Go for the running backs.

But those quarterbacks, they’re guys like Jake. So why isn’t he with the perfect woman in that perfect relationship? That’s probably a question for another day. Back to the good stuff.

My heart is hammering in my chest, beating so erratically it might just burst out of my chest.

Jake pulls back, unbuckling his belt, and slides his zipper down on his cargo shorts.

I’m trying to be funny when I say, “I’ll be easy on you. Us city girls tend to get a little wild.”

Laughing, he takes his shirt off and tosses it carelessly over his shoulder. “Is that so?”

“Yep.” I dip my hands between my thighs, tracing my clit just to see what he’ll do.

The look on his face is something I’ve seen before. Hunger. Uncontrollable lust. The muscles in his face tighten, his jaw clenching. He shoves his hand inside his shorts and begins stroking himself, as if he can’t take it any longer while working on kicking away his shorts and boxers.

Watching his hand work over his cock, but having it concealed inside his shorts, heats my skin to degrees you wouldn’t believe. In the name of all things good and holy, fuck me, that’s intensely hot! I think the greatest porn is ones where the guy is masturbating. I don’t need to watch sex, but if there’s a guy jerking off on camera—a hot guy—you bet your ass I’m gonna watch.

Pulling back, he removes his shorts, slower than I would like, and then returns, hovering. My eyes dip south to his erection now staring at me.

Look at that monster!

With a dirty smirk, Jake pries my legs apart, and then he’s there between them, waiting for me to make the decision. I thought I already had by inviting him back to my room, but apparently, Island Boy wanted me to say it.

Maybe to work me up a little more, he strokes himself from base to tip and grips the head of his cock. Seeing his hand on himself again is about as much as I can handle. So sexy. Grabbing him by the shoulders, I yank him to me. “Get inside me. Now. Like, right now.”

Dropping forward on his elbows, he stares in my eyes and tells me he loves me.

Do you believe me?

Ha. I’m fucking with you. Instead, his voice lowers to a gruff, deliciously rough whisper as he asks, “You sure?”

I nod. Maybe a little too eagerly. “Dude, come on already. I know how this works.”

With a deep chuckle, he draws himself from me, leans over the side of the bed to find his shorts and what I assume is a condom. I watch as he opens the package with his teeth and then proceeds to put it on before settling back between my legs.

Drawing in a deep breath, I prepare myself. He smells so good, like sun and boy and, God, have I missed it, dick. It’s one of those moments where I literally tingle as he enters me. And sigh.

Once he’s inside me, my breathing literally stops and brain cells are dying awaiting the oxygen that isn’t returning anytime soon.

Jake’s body is so heavy, his grip too strong and his hands too rough. But I’m in no position to stop him. Ineedthis.

My nails dig into his shoulders as he pushes inside me, careful, but still, if I had to guess, it’s been a while for him too by the way his body shakes when he slides in and out.

You know the kind of girl I am, and you better believe I know what I want and how I want it. That includes sex. There’s certain positions I want, some I hate and others, if you try them, I’ll straight up knock ya out.

Panting like he’s running a marathon, Jake’s thrusts are coming harder and faster, and he’s giving me a look I don’t understand, or I don’t have the mental ability to understand with the amount of alcohol in my body.

His hands run over my hips, carefully, but with impatience, his touch sweet, just like his drinks. My eyes are closed, but open when he raises my left leg and reaches between my legs to adjust the angle. His hands slide slowly over me, taking his time to learn my contours.

All right, he’s taking too much time going slow. I want to come and need it faster. I squirm against him. With my leg hooked around his arm, he has the correct angle, and he pushes inside me again, draws back, and then gives me a little more like he’s teasing me. Heisteasing me. Jerk.

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