Page 58 of While You Were Spying
I wrap my hand around his still-hard cock and position my entrance against his tip. I lower myself onto him, filling, stretching, mentally singing hallelujahs to myself.
“Christ, you’re tight.” Jayden groans in a way that says that’s not a bad thing.
It’s a fucking amazing thing.
“You’re welcome,” I say on a grin.
I rock my hips back and forward, searching for the right rhythm to take us where we both want to go.
Where I wouldn’t mind finding myself once again.
“I want you to stroke yourself.” Jayden’s voice is strained and huskier than the last time, his good hand helping me find the rhythm. “I want to watch you make yourself come.”
“Okay,” I say on a panted moan.
I move my hand to the juncture between my legs and do as he asked. My fingers brush against my clit, and I’m back on the edge of the good old abyss in record time.
“Yes, just like that,” he says.
And that’s all it takes to topple me over—taking him with me.
He releases a guttural groan that is more erotic than anything I’ve heard in a while.
I thought I came hard last time. That was nothing compared to now. Stars flood my vision, and I’m floatingup,up,up.
I’m vaguely aware of Jayden guiding me off him. I collapse on the bed while he goes to the bathroom. He returns a minute later with a wet washcloth as I sink back to full awareness.
He gently cleans my sensitive parts, the washcloth delightfully warm. “I know it’s not exactly the homework assignment…”
Once he’s finished, he tosses the cloth onto the floor and lies down next to me. I roll onto my side, facing him, and prop my head up with my bent elbow. “How’s your arm doing?”
“I would be happier if I could remove the sling now.”
I shift over to kiss him…just because I can.
“Can I ask you a question?” I’m in no real rush to get up. That’s not to say we can stay in bed all day. We’ve got a job to do. But right now, I have a great appreciation for how cooked spaghetti feels straight out of the pot.
“My favorite color is black, and no,” he says, “I didn’t have any pets as a kid.”
I snort a laugh. “Is that what your one-night stands usually ask you?”
“No, but you get the general idea. That’s why I don’t often stick around afterward.”
“So no post-coital cuddling?”
“Definitely not. What about you?”
“I’ll admit I enjoy cuddling after sex as much as the next woman. But most one-night stands are like you—eager to race out the door before the condom hits the bottom of the trash can. And Richard wasn’t into it, either. Once we were finished, he would turn the news back on or go to sleep.”
That’s what I got for dating a political science major who had aspirations of one day being a senator—possibly even the president. He was glued to the twenty-four-hour news station like bears to honey.
“I can’t believe you gave him up. He sounds like a winner.”
I chuckle. “Not a day passes when I wonder if I made a mistake. Just like not a day passes when I think I should cut out my spleen and feed it to a river of piranhas.”
“Sounds like fun.”
“Doesn’t it? So what about you? You know why I’m not interested in repeating the mistake of believing a man is capable of being faithful to me. Why aren’t you interested in settling down and having a bunch of little Jaydens running around the house, wanting pony rides from Mojo?”
