Page 68 of Sinfully Shameless Chef

IZZY

I wasn't hallucinating. It wasn't just a fantasy I had built up in my head, some exaggerated remembrance of a moment in time made to be something that it wasn’t. No…I wasn’t wrong about what happened in my kitchen the other night. Jameson really is that good.

The first time, I thought it was just the tension build-up that made it so perfect. The typical hate-fuck everyone talks about being so incredibly hot. But I don’t hate Jameson anymore—if I ever truly did. And given what he said earlier, I don’t think he hates me, either.

You are most definitely going to be a problem for me.

The statement could have been taken a lot of ways, but it only said one thing to me—he wants me. Truly wants me, even with all the bullshit between us.

While I would love to convince myself that it's just the fact that it's been so long, that I'm lonely and need this connection and affection from someone, I can't deny the reality of what’s happening with Jameson.

And apparently, neither can he.

Because even now, as he slams into me, I see the struggle deep in his bourbon eyes. He knows all the reasons why this is wrong. All the complications it brings. Yet, we're doing it anyway.

What does that say about us? That we’re both weak? Or is it just that our connection is that strong? Something undeniable that no one could ever fight?

Either way, it doesn’t matter right now. Because it feels good. And I haven't felt truly good in such a long time that it feels like I deserve this. One more night of reckless abandon, of throwing caution to the wind and letting natural need take over before I have to face reality and decide how to handle telling him what he needs to know.

I should be at home right now doing all the things I need to in order to keep myself healthy and sane, but instead, I'm in the arms of the one man I shouldn't be. I’m losing myself in the competition who can ruin everything I’ve ever dreamed about and worked for if I really let him. And in this moment, I just might.

Just might give him everything…

Especially if he keeps doing that thing with his hips that makes the head of his cock drag against my G-spot.

“God, yes!” The words tumble from my lips, and I roll my hips to meet his, harder and faster, reaching for that one moment of sheer bliss I know is just on the horizon.

It’s raw and rough and all Jameson.

He isn't the type of man who ever makes love. I doubt he even understands the meaning of the word, but with the pleasure coursing through my veins like heroin right now, I can't care about that missing fantasy.

I can momentarily brush aside the fact that he looked like he’d been in a fight when he arrived—banged up and battered the way I feel, even though it might not be as visible. He’s hiding something from me just like I am him, something that can wait for another day. Until his hand shifts from my thigh to the hem of my shirt, and I quickly reach down and plaster my hand over his to still his progress.

Oh, God. Not now…

I am so not having this conversation with him right now, not in the middle of feeling like this. I’m not ready to expose any more weaknesses to Jameson when he already has me torn open and practically naked in front of him. When he’s already worked his way under my skin and into my heart.

He stalls the movement of his hips and drags his head back to look at me. “What's wrong? Why won't you let me touch you?”

I answer him with a kiss and by squeezing my pussy around him.

Distraction always works.

His eyes snap shut, and he groans, his chest rumbling against mine in a strange mixture of need and frustration. He pulls his hand out from under mine and takes my chin in his palm. His eyes flutter open and meet mine. “We’re going to have to talk about this.” He claims me with a kiss, one that takes my breath again and promises he means business. “But first, let me finish fucking you and make you come on my cock.”

Oh, God.

A shiver rolls through me, and I clench around him again.

I've never been one for dirty talk. Maybe it's just because no one has ever really done it with me before, but the growly tone in his voice and the fact that he has absolute command of me at this moment makes me nod. “I am in one hundred percent agreement with that plan.”

The coming on his cock part, at least.

Not the talking later thing. All the other stuff will have to be addressed at some point I don’t even want to think about right now. But if I’m coming clean, so is he. It’s only fair. The two of us need to lay everything out on the table…somewhere down the road.

He resumes his movements and kisses his way up my neck to my ear to suck behind it at that spot that sends a jolt straight to my clit. That, combined with the roll and crush of his hips, the friction of his pelvis against my throbbing bud, is enough to finally send me over the edge.

I jerk against the door, my pussy rippling and clutching at him inside me as my orgasm obliterates any sense of reality. Only one thing exists in this brilliant moment of ecstasy that’s only broken by a guttural growl as Jameson pushes in one final time and comes—my complete surrender.

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