Page 52 of The Hookup Situation

But I do want to. That’s the problem. So before I can talk myself out of it, I pull the blankets back and slide under them. It’s late, and I’m exhausted and it’ll be just this once, I tell myself.

Preston grins and scoots closer, kissing me. I hum and press against him when his hand slides inside the back of my panties and he grips my ass cheek, squeezing it.

“Mmmm,” he murmurs against my lips, our foreheads pressed together. “Damn, I like panties.”

I chuckle. We kiss a little longer before I pull back. “Roll over,” I tell him, and he does, giving me his back. I run my fingers along the tattoo that spans almost his entire back. “Tell me about this one. Is it for your parents?”

He nods. “Their fight against cancer. I guess the tree, when I saw it, I felt like I was looking at myself, or what I felt like during that time, just really vulnerable and scared and honestly, half alive. But when they made it through treatment and the doctor told us they were in remission it was like I could breathe again, and so the leaves and flowers were a symbol of that and the butterflies are for them. The blue one is for my dad. It represents beating prostate cancer, and the pink one is for my mom. Breast cancer.”

I finish tracing it as he speaks and then lean in and press a kiss to the area between his shoulder blades. “That’s beautiful,” I tell him, and he rolls back over, onto his back. He pulls me to him and I go, my heart skipping a beat as my leg slots between his. I swallow as my head rests on his chest. He’s warm and strong, and being in his arms makes me feel things I shouldn’t be feeling. Makes me want things I shouldn’t want. Because I don’t live in a fairy tale, and I don’t get the handsome prince in the end. But I can’t make myself move away. So for tonight I’ll pretend.

“What about this one?” I ask, touching the roses on his forearm as he moves his fingers along my back.

“Oh, those and the dragon are just because they look cool.”

I laugh and so does he. “I could have come up with some elaborate story, but I know how much you love my honesty.”

I purr and press a kiss to his chest. His fingers lower and run just above the waistband of my panties at the very top of my ass cheeks. I chuckle again. “You can touch me,” I tell him.

“I don’t know how I’m going to sleep like this because you’re already making me hard,” he murmurs as he slides his hand inside the panties again and caresses my ass cheeks. I hum and bury my nose in his neck. “You really are so damn sexy in these, Jax. I’d never seen panties on a guy before you. But I’m a big fan.”

I chuckle again as my dick lengthens against his thigh. I can’t help it when I’m this close to him and he’s touching me the way he is. My skin is vibrating with his hand on my ass. “If we’re gonna get any sleep, you’re gonna have to move your hand,” I murmur against his skin.

He groans and squeezes my ass one more time, and then reluctantly pulls his hand away. I roll over and he spoons me, his dick pressed against my ass. I’m not entirely sure this is any better, but before I know it, I’m drifting to sleep.

THIRTEEN

PRESTON

Waking up the next morning with Jackson in my arms is the best feeling in the world. I honestly didn’t expect him to stay, though he seemed like he wanted to, but was waging some sort of internal battle with himself over it. It’s almost like he’s afraid to let himself be happy. And it makes my heart ache, because he deserves all the happiness.

I nuzzle his neck with my nose, before pressing kisses to his skin. My hand snakes under the shirt of mine he’s wearing, which has ridden up some in the night, bunching up around his waist. My fingers trace over his flat stomach and he squirms against me, brushing his sexy ass over my morning wood.

“Mmm,” he murmurs, eyes still closed. “You’re hard.”

I hum. “You would be too if you were this close to you.”

He laughs and grips my hand, moving it down to rest on his crotch over his panties. “Mmmm,” I hum again, my dick getting that much harder as I palm his erection through the lace material. Somehow this is even more erotic than his dick being bare in my hand. I love how he responds to the glide of the laceover his cock. He humps my hand and presses back against my dick. “You wanna get off with me again, Tinkerbell?”

“Shut up and move,” he commands. “Don’t you dare stop until I’m spilling all over.”

I groan and grip him harder, stroking him faster as I thrust my hips against his ass. He reaches back and grips my thigh as he gyrates against me in turn.

“God, why does your hand feel so good?” he groans, his voice a deep sexy rumble in the morning.

“Same reason your ass feels so good, baby,” I reply. “It’s you.”

“Nnnggg,” he moans. “Oh, shit, Pres, I’m gonna come.”

“Hell, yeah, Tinkerbell. Fill these panties for me.”

My own orgasm barrels up on me and we cry out at the same time, as our spunk fills our underwear. I press kisses to his neck and shoulder as we breathe heavily.

“Looks like I’ll be going home commando again,” he says, and I chuckle.

“What are you doing for Thanksgiving?” I ask, and he turns to face me.

“Why?”

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