Page 17 of Second Go-Round

Ricky rounded the front of the car as Jarod climbed from the limo and offered me his hand.

Electrical pulses raced through my body as our palms connected.

A crooked grin tilted his lips.

“Want me to wait?” Ricky asked Jarod quietly as I climbed from the limo onto shaking legs, my focus on my escort’s flushed appearance.

“Don’t bother,” he murmured a reply to Ricky but didn’t take his eyes off me.

He planned on staying for an extended time, which was fine by me.

Focused on not falling on my face, I started toward my front stairs. My hand still clutched at Jarod’s, but he didn’t make me drag his ass behind me. He moved with purpose, the same as I did, as though driven by the same desire coursing through me.

My front door—that was where I wanted to be taken first. Held up. Fucked within an inch of my life.

I bit my lip to keep from whimpering.

“Have a good evening,” Ricky called out from behind us, a smile in his voice.

“Oh, we will,” Jarod answered before I could even think to open my mouth. “Thanks for the ride.”

The driver’s chuckle followed us up the short walk to my house.

Chapter 8

Jarod

Fingers still clamped around mine, Christine led me up her cobbled path while I grimaced over the discomfort of my throbbing length confined in my jeans. Kind of made for bow-legged walking.

I followed her swaying ass up the three stairs, waiting impatiently for her to unlock her door. The click couldn’t come fast enough.

Face a glorious shade of pink, Christine smiled over her shoulder at me, emerald eyes damn near overtaken by her blown pupils. “Ready for round one?” she asked as the lock disengaged, her raspy voice making my dick flex.

Fuck, this woman…

“I’ve been ready since the second I saw you humping the air on that dance floor.” I followed Christine into her foyer and dropped the black bag to the floor.

While she kicked off her heels and set her things on a small side table, I fished the conveniently stashed condom from my back pocket, unzipped my fly, and sheathed my cock in record time.

She flicked on a light, and without a word, I grabbed and spun her in my arms, our mouths colliding once more. Cinnamon and hops sweetened her breath, and I couldn’t swallow her down fast enough. Christine wasn’t a small woman, but I had no difficulty grabbing the fleshy globes beneath her skirt and lifting her. She wrapped her legs around my waist, fitting like a goddamned glove, like she belonged plastered against my body. My dick pressed against her clit, so I lifted her higher…and slammed her against her front door while sinking balls deep inside her slick heat.

She ripped her mouth from mine and arched her back, thrusting her tits in my face. “Fuck!”

“Shit yeah,” I groaned, taking a brief second to appreciate her tight choke hold on my cock.

Hard and fast, she’d said.

Arms in a vise around her soft curves, I pulled out and rammed in, my mouth latching onto the top of the jiggling flesh of her cleavage. I bit with enough force to leave indents. Sucked with the intent of bruising her skin in a place she could easily hide.

“You feel so fucking good, Christine.” I growled and licked up her neck, the sweet scent of honeysuckle coating the back of my throat and nose. “So. Fucking. Good.” I grunted each word with a thrust as my fingertips dug into her ass cheeks.

The sounds of wet fucking and gasping breaths accompanied the slap of our bodies coming together. Every stab of my cock deep inside her core gifted me a grunt from her parted lips. Curses. Moans. She grasped at my hair, yanking to the point of pain, but I didn’t give a fuck. She was like heaven wrapped around me, and a bald patch or two would be worth the climax building in my balls.

She groaned, head tipped back and eyelids clenched shut. “Harder. Yes. Fuck, you’re going to wreck me.”

I bent my knees slightly, snapping my hips higher.

“Fuck!” Christine shrieked. “Right fucking there. Oh God...”

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