Page 48 of Edge of Ruin
“Right,” I said. “Like I’m supposed to chitchat while a two-hundred-and-thirty-pound sex god is nailing me to his bed with his enormous thing, giving me multiple orgasms? Puh-leeze.”
“Consider it a challenge,” he suggested, rolling the condom on. “I won’t move. I just want to be inside you. Please?”
He nudged himself inside me, and stared into my eyes for the whole, long, tight slide. I felt like I fit over his broad, pulsing shaft like a skintight glove. I was blushing again, from my chest on up. And I was the one who started to move over him. I just couldn’t help herself. Manipulative bastard. He knew I couldn’t get enough of him.
I would have felt embarrassed, if I hadn’t been so busy working myself up to another climax. I flung the covers back and rode him, chest heaving, back arched.
He touched my breasts, held me, playing skillfully with my clit until I collapsed over him, gasping and sobbing, in spasms of pleasure.
After, I lifted myself up onto my elbows, hazy with residual pleasure, and realized that he was still hot and huge and hard inside me, staring into my eyes.
“Ah, Jack?” I ventured. “What about you?”
“What about me?” he said. “I’m fine. Didn’t you want to talk?”
“But don’t you need to come?”
He gave her a swift grin. “It’ll wait. No hurry. I just want to hang out, miles inside you. My dick is in heaven. It wants to take up residence.”
I buried my laughter against his silky mat of dark chest hair. “If you say so.” I pushed myself up, pulsing my quivering pussy around him, and tried to compose myself. Here went nothing. “I was wondering if you’d go with me into Pebble River, like Margaret suggested,” I said. “To look at rentals. For my gallery.”
His face stiffened. “You know what I think of that idea.”
“Yes, but it’s what I plan to do,” I told him. “I know you think I’m married to the road, but I took that path by necessity. Not by choice.”
“Please. Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
I sighed in frustration. “They’re not promises. I’m just telling you my plans. Why won’t you listen to me, Jack?”
He shook his head. “Duncan will kill me if I let you do this.”
I jerked up onto my elbows. “Duncan does not make my decisions for me. I am almost broke, and I cannot hide forever.”
He let out a heavy sigh. “I see that.”
“And you can’t say there’s nothing between us,” I said, resolutely. “Not anymore.”
“I’m not saying that. But please, let’s just stay in the moment. Let’s not look at it too closely. If we do ...” His voice trailed off.
“It’ll disappear?” I finished. “You really think that about me?”
His silence was my answer. I drooped back down onto his chest, downheartened, feeling him shift and pulse. Reminding me of his presence inside my body.
“So we can’t talk about the future,” I said. “What can we talk about?”
“We don’t have to talk at all,” he suggested.
I laughed at him. “Nice try, buddy. No, we’re talking right now. So buck up.”
“Okay, then,” he said. “The past. Tell me about your past.”
I blew a wisp of hair out of my eyes. “Wow, Jack. Big topic. Want to break it down a little for me?”
“Tell me how you became an artist,” he suggested.
“Ah. Okay. Well, it was a challenge. Lucia sweated for years, trying to turn me into a civilized human. I was a wild animal, even though I loved her to pieces from the start. Hyperactive, hot tempered, foul-mouthed. I got bad grades. I had impulse control issues. I got into fights.”
“I’m not surprised,” he said. “You have a certain uncompromising quality.”
