Page 39 of The Kiss Keeper
“And, even though I’m done with Jakes, you’re my fake Jake so, I wouldn’t be breaking my no Jake rule,” she offered up, then took a step.
“Right, I don’t count as a real Jake,” he agreed, inching forward.
“And I’m on the pill, so we wouldn’t have to worry about any hypothetically unplanned events,” she answered, moving closer.
“And I’ve been tested, and I’m clean,” he added, closing the distance between them.
Their bodies only inches apart, she exhaled a shaky breath. “Me, too.”
He reached for the belt of the trench coat and twisted the fabric around his fingers. “So, hypothetically, nothing is stopping us.”
“Nothing,” she answered.
He’d never been so turned on from such a super-nerdy hypothetical intercourse discussion.
A sultry hint of a smile pulled at the corners of Natalie’s mouth, and she glanced down at the trench coat belt, twisted around his fingers.
“How are you with knots?”
“I’m the damn knot master,” he replied, making quick work of the belt tied around her waist. The coat fell open, and he was met with creamy skin and black lace.
“I love this dress,” he said, his tone growing low and primal.
Jake number six was an idiot.
Standing before him in red heels and sexy lingerie was a literal goddess, and as fake Jake number seven, he wasn’t about to screw this up.
He traced his index finger along the edge of the lacy bra cup. “What do you say we give this intercourse thing a shot?”
She held his gaze, then slid the coat past her shoulders. The material fell to the ground and pooled around her stilettos.
She took his tie into her hands and skimmed her fingers down the silk. “Oops! I seem to be almost naked. This seems like an excellent time to engage in some intercourse.”
That it did. And Jake Teller didn’t need to be told twice.
He took her into his arms and kissed her in a fiery crash of lips and tongues and teeth. She kicked off her heels and melted into him, wrapping her arms around his neck as he gripped her ass and lifted her into his arms. She bucked against him, and he pressed her back against the wall, pinning her body tightly to his. The cottage wasn’t that large, more of a glorified studio. But between the bed, a table, and old rocking chair, he’d identified plenty of surfaces to screw his fake girlfriend’s brains out.
His kisses drifted from her mouth to her jawline as he pumped his hips, and Natalie’s breathy gasps and carnal moans flipped a switch in his brain, sharpening his mind on one single objective.
Make this woman come all night long.
She tugged at his jacket. “Why are you still in that suit?”
That was a good question.
He walked them over to the bed and plopped her onto the mattress. With a surprised gasp and a giggle, she leaned back onto her elbows and settled herself on the bed. The dim light cast her in an ethereal glow, and with her tousled dark hair and those mesmerizing green eyes, his gaze devoured her body.
He loosened his tie and tossed it onto the bed. Then, buttons popping, he stripped out of his dress shirt and kicked off his shoes, pants, and boxers.
Slowly, he prowled the length of her body, trailing his lips from her ankles, up her calves, and past her thighs. She gasped as he slid the silky G-string down her legs.
“You’re like a work of art,” he growled against her thigh, nipping the sensitive skin when a flash of royal blue caught his eye, and he reached for his tie, dragging the soft material between her breasts.
“What are we going to do with this?” she purred, working the material between her fingers.
He thought back to when he helped her with the sleep mask. “Lift your head,” he directed.
She complied, and he covered her eyes, fashioning a makeshift blindfold, then positioned his cock between her thighs.
