Page 29 of What Happens In Vegas: Jessa & Jaxon
“That’s not fair.” I tilt my head to give him better access despite my half-hearted protest.
“Leadership requires adapting to unexpected situations,” he says, his lips brushing against my skin with each word. “Consider this practical experience.”
A laugh bubbles up from my chest, quickly transforming into a soft moan as his teeth graze my earlobe. The sensation travels the length of my body, collecting at the pit of my stomach.
“This isn’t exactly what the interview committee has in mind.”
“Their loss.”
He shifts, turning my chair to face him and lifting me effortlessly onto his lap, so I straddle him. The sudden movement startles a gasp out of me, but any protest dies on my lips when I feel the hard length of him pressed against my core. This new position puts us face to face.
“Much better,” he says. “I think you’ve practiced enough for one day.”
My hands come to rest on his broad shoulders, neither pushing him away nor pulling him closer. I’m balanced on a knife’s edge of wanting.
“You think?”
“I know.” He runs his hands up my thighs, his touch confident and possessive. My body responds to him, almost against my will. “You’re more than ready. Smart, prepared, passionate about education. They’d be idiots not to hire you.”
His belief in me makes me happy. It’s not a line to get me into bed; he actually means it.
“You really think so?”
“I know so.”
He presses a kiss to my lips. The tenderness in the gesture makes my heart flutter uncomfortably. “You’re going to be an amazing Vice Principal, JJ.”
I kiss him back, my hands sliding up to cradle his face. His stubble is rough against my palms, a masculine contrast to the unexpected gentleness of his words.
A moan escapes my lips when his fingers trace a heated path up my spine, pressing into the small of my back and sending tendrils of desire radiating outwards.
He kisses me like he’s starved for it, like I’m the only thing that can satisfy him, and it’s intoxicating.
I reach between us, my fingers tracing the outline of his erection through the fabric of his sweatpants. He sucks in a sharp breath, his hips jerking upward.
I smile, enjoying the effect I have on him.
“Too many clothes,” I murmur, echoing his earlier sentiment.
I shift back, giving myself enough room to slip my hand inside his sweatpants. He lifts his hips, helping me as I push the fabric down to free his erection.
His dick springs out and I wrap my hand around him, marveling at the silken heat, the rigid strength. He groans, his body shuddering as I stroke him slowly, my thumb circling the sensitive tip.
His hands find the waistband of my leggings, pushing them down over my hips. I lift myself up, allowing him to slide them down my legs. They join his sweatpants on the floor, leaving us both naked from the waist down.
I position myself over him and slide down easily, taking in every inch of him. His hands grip my hips as I begin to move, rising and falling, my body taking what it needs from his.
The feeling is intense, the pressure building inside me with each thrust, each grind of our bodies. His hands guide my movements, his hips thrusting up to meet mine. The sound ofour bodies coming together fills the room, driving us both higher and higher.
I can feel him getting close, can feel the urgency in his touch, his kiss. It pushes me over the edge, my body convulsing around him, my cry of release echoing through the room.
Jaxon follows me a moment later, his body shuddering, his groan guttural. We cling to each other, our bodies slick with sweat, our breaths coming in ragged gasps.
“I was thinking,” Jaxon says casually two days later as he watches me gather the dice, “we should go on a proper date when we get back to civilization.”
In the background, Patsy Cline hums low from the speaker, the mournful notes of “You Belong to Me” floating over the room. It’s the kind of song that seeps into your skin.
“A date?”
