Page 74 of Behind the Net

“You’re fucking killing me,” he rasps between kisses. He’s furious, and delight and desire flicker low in my belly, warming me. His stubble is rough against my skin, his lips are practically bruising mine, but I don’t care. I just need more.

He groans again like he’s in pain, leaning his forehead against mine. My hands come to his t-shirt, skimming up and down the hard planes of his chest. God, I want to see him shirtless again, like that night in the kitchen.

“Fuck,” he bites out, glazed eyes flashing. “I need to see it. I need to see you make yourself come on the toy I bought you.”

His lips seek mine, and a heavy ache forms between my legs as he nips my bottom lip. A soft moan slips out of me. The breath whooshes out of my lungs as his hips pin me against the wall and his thick length presses against my stomach.

Kissing Jamie is hotter than anything I’ve ever done with Zach.

His lips move roughly down my neck, and I stand there, heart racing like this is a dream. I’m floating, and we haven’t evendoneanything yet. He backs away, and I feel his absence immediately.

He opens my bedroom door, glares at me, and points into my room. “Get in there,” he demands.

I shiver. Jamie bossing me around makes me feel untethered and completely unlike myself, and I don’t mind one bit.

Heart pounding, I walk past him into my room. At my bed, I stop and turn. He follows me into the room and crosses his arms over his chest.

“Well?” he asks.

Oh god. My stomach dips, and the horniness I felt moments before wavers. He’s probably slept with a hundred women, and now I have no freaking clue what to do.

He’s going to laugh at me. Just like Zach and his manager laughed at me. I blink rapidly, meeting his gaze, and his expression changes.

“Songbird,” he says, holding my gaze. “Do you want to stop?”

“No, I just—” I cut myself off, glancing at my bedside table. “I don’t know how to do this part.”

His eyes turn soft. He steps forward and threads his fingers into the back of my hair again.

God, that feels good. I close my eyes as he presses his lips to mine. The nerves drain away.

“Take your clothes off and get on the bed.”

He pulls back and looks down at me, and something about him telling me what to do sends heat rushing back to my center.

“Do you understand?”

I nod, dazed.

“Good.” He lets go of my hair, steps back again, and folds his arms.

My pulse picks up again as I pull my sweater off. I reach for the hem of my shirt, and as I pull it up, Jamie’s eyebrow lifts.

“Slower.”

Another twist of heat between my legs. I like this side of him—primal, bossy, demanding, wanting me. I pull my t-shirt off at a criminally slow pace, watching his jaw tick, his eyes simmer with heat, and his fists clench, tucked beneath his arms.

His gaze drops to my bra, a pale pink lacy thing. His tongue taps his upper lip as his eyes linger on my chest, and my nipples prick. I picture that tongue tracing my skin above the bra, and there’s a rush of liquid between my legs.

The way he’s looking at me? It feels good.

His eyes meet mine. “All of it,” he says, tilting his chin at my pants. Another shiver rolls down my spine.

When my jeans are off, he stares at my lace thong like it offends him, but I know the truth. His Adam’s apple bobs as he lets out a long breath, gaze fixed between my legs.

“Are your panties damp?”

I nod.

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