Authors: Kelly Jamieson
Her legs immediately closed and she rolled to the side, knees bent, face turned into the mattress, breathing hard.
Mike wiped his mouth. Yeah, they were still going to have that talk, but he had another hard-on that needed to be dealt with. He grabbed a condom from the stash in her bedside table and moved onto the bed, shifting Jules onto her stomach. He pushed her legs apart again and grasped her hips, lifting them, loving this view of her pussy from behind, the swollen lips soft and pouty.
But before he pushed into her, he laid the flat of his hand sharply on one sweet little butt cheek. She started and cried out. “What…?”
“You need a spanking,” he told her. “So you know you can’t get away with this kind of shit.”
“What kind of shit?” she gasped. He landed a firm tap on her other cheek.
“Distracting me with sex. Okay, yeah, you may think it worked.” He gave another sharp caress to each cheek. “But only temporarily. After I fuck you into the mattress, we are having a nice long talk.”
“Mike…please…” The begging tone in her voice wasn’t asking him to stop. She was asking him for more.
He gave her a couple more heavy taps, her skin heating beneath his hand. Then he gripped his cock and found her entrance, bathing the head of his cock in liquid heat even through the latex. “Ah, yeah, baby,” he groaned, pushing into her. She was tight and hot, and he worked his way in. If he hadn’t just come a few minutes ago, no way would he have lasted. Once he was all the way in, he slid out and then back in, a long glide of ecstasy.
She bit her knuckles and he picked up the pace. Tonight wasn’t about long slow foreplay, it was about getting what they needed. He slammed into her, watched her flesh jiggle enticingly at each thrust, gripping her hips, his knees pushing against her. He bent over her, kissed her back, her shoulder, whispered, “Take me, Jules. Just like that.”
“Yes. Yes.” She almost sounded like she was sobbing, her hips thrusting back at him, fucking him back with each drive. His skin began to buzz, heat sizzled up his spine, a tightening coil inside him twisting, twisting. So close… He reached beneath her and found her clit again, still so sensitive she cried out at his touch. He fondled her and rubbed her until she wailed, her fist stifling the sound. Her pussy rippled around him and then he came too, with an almost painful intensity, holding her ass against his groin, balls pulsing.
“Jules, Christ, Jules, you undo me. Every time.” His words came out uneven and choppy. He fell over her, pressing her into the mattress, his face in her hair. He nuzzled and found skin, kissed her, breathed her in. Slowly, they stretched their legs out, him still inside her but softening. He’d move in a minute. In a minute…
He wasn’t sure how many minutes went by, he might even have dozed off briefly. When he moved, his cock slipped out of her clinging warmth, and he rolled off the bed to get rid of the condom.
He yanked back the covers on her bed, helped her crawl under them and then climbed in beside her, wrapping her up in his arms.
He was silent for a few moments, processing what had just happened.
Damn. He cursed himself for letting her manipulate him right into bed yet again, and distract him from what he’d really wanted—to talk to her.
“Okay,” he finally said, kissing the top of her head. “Now we’re going to have that talk.”
Jules burrowed into Mike’s arms, curling into his body, even though she knew she should be getting out of bed, getting away from him, out of self-preservation. The feelings churning inside her were dangerous. Her throat tight, her eyes burning a little, her chest constricted…these were not normally the feelings she had after hot sex.
Physically, she was satisfied. Oh yeah. Her body was relaxed and limp, a faint buzz remaining in her limbs, a delicious languor stealing over her. But her mind…her emotions…she squeezed her eyes closed against them.
She so did not want to have this talk. “Sure,” she said, trying for light. “What do you want to talk about?”
“Let’s talk about me, to start,” he said, his voice low and husky. She felt him press another kiss to her hair and she melted a little bit more against him even as her mind told her,
Run! Just run!
“Okay.” That wasn’t so threatening as talking about herself.
“Let’s talk about how used I feel right now,” he said.
She went very still in his arms and her eyes slowly opened. “Used?”
“Yeah. Used. And kind of pissed.”
“Oh.” Her body tightened. “Um…”
“You’re using me, Jules. And I don’t like it.”
“I’m not using you.”
“No?” He stroked a hand down her back in a long, gentle move. “That’s how I feel.”
Okay, talking about him wasn’t going so well, because somehow he’d made this about her.
“Well, I’m sorry you feel that way.”
“That’s it? That’s all you’ve got?”
Now she did push away, scooting across the bed, shoving her hair off her face with both hands. “What do you want from me?” she cried. “Yes! This is all I’ve got!” She swept out a hand between them, indicating her bed, sex.
Hot emotion surged into her throat.
He slowly sat up too, and gazed back at her with those beautiful eyes, so observant, so steady.
She grabbed the covers and hauled them up against her, holding them in both hands. “I’m not using you,” she finally said, the intensity of his scrutiny making her shake. Making her weaken. “I’m not. Really.”
“You wanted me to pose for those pictures.”
“Yeah.”
“You got what you wanted.”
“But I…that’s not why…” She frowned at him. “That’s what you mean? I didn’t sleep with you to get you to agree to pose for me.”
“No?”
“No!” Now she was the one feeling a little pissed, that he thought she would do that. “I…like sex.” She swallowed. “I like men. I like having sex with men. Hell, I even like sex with women.”
His eyes flickered at that and she waited for his reaction. But he said nothing, just continued to hold her gaze. Swallowing a sigh, she forged on. “But I don’t…” She paused. Could she honestly say it? Could she really honestly say she’d never used sex to manipulate people?
No. The truth was, she’d been doing that her whole life. Maybe not with sex per se, but with her sexuality, definitely. She bowed her head, her eyes stinging, letting her hair fall over her face. She focused on taking a few deep breaths until she was sure she could speak in a steady voice. But her words still came out shaky and tight.
“I wasn’t using you for that,” she said. “I swear, Mike. I slept with you because I’m attracted to you and I…I like you. That was it. The fact that you agreed to pose for me is just a bonus.”
After a long, weighted paused, he said, “Okay.”
She let go of the sheets to lift a hand and surreptitiously swipe away a tear that had escaped. And jumped a little when his big hand closed around hers.
“Jules.”
She lifted her face to once again meet his eyes even though her entire body trembled and tensed, her insides writhing like snakes.
“I accept that you weren’t using me for that,” he said. “Honestly I didn’t really think that’s what you were doing. But even so, I still feel like you’re using me…for sex. I get that you like sex. You’re fucking sexy as hell. But you’re not giving me anything but that. And it makes me feel…cheap. Used.”
She tried for a laugh, but it came out sounding like she was sobbing. “Isn’t this supposed to be the other way around? Men aren’t usually the ones complaining about getting sex with no strings attached. Isn’t that what every guy wants?”
“Some guys. Sometimes.” His lips pressed together.
“So you’re…” She cleared her throat. “You’re saying you want more than that?”
He gave a slow nod. “Yeah. I am.”
“Well, I don’t do long term. I don’t do relationships.”
“Why not?”
She rolled her eyes. “It doesn’t matter why. I just don’t.”
“We’ve only known each other a few weeks,” he said slowly. “It’s kind of soon to be talking about forever. Maybe all I really want is for you to share some of yourself with me, other than sex. So we can get to know each other. And then maybe see if there’s anything there that might turn into a relationship.”
“Why? Why are you bothering with me?” She was being a bitch, a pain in his ass, likely. Most guys didn’t want to sit there and talk about feelings and long term relationships and feeling used after they’d just had a couple of rounds of oral sex and then a fast fuck. Why didn’t he just get up and leave? She wouldn’t blame him if he did.
There were times she really didn’t like herself and this was one of them. But the fear inside her clawed so sharp and hard, a cold feeling of dread like an ice cube at the base of her esophagus, she couldn’t let down her guard. She just couldn’t.
“I don’t know,” he answered, lifting a hand to rub the back of his head. “There’s just something about you…” He met her eyes. “I’m falling for you, Jules. I gotta be honest.”
Her mouth dropped open and her heart stopped for what felt like long, painful seconds. It wasn’t that she was that amazed that someone could fall for her. Hell, it had happened before. She didn’t totally get why, but other guys had cared about her. What amazed her was his willingness to put it out there, to just say it, so openly, so honestly. So fearlessly.
She stared at him, her heart lurching back into a wild galloping rhythm. Usually she’d be making a joke of it. Or telling him not to do that.
Don’t fall for me. Just don’t.
But instead, she was filled with admiration for his courage. And also a weird feeling of…gratitude.
Because as much as she didn’t want to admit it, she liked him.
She didn’t want to admit it to herself. No fucking way she was admitting it to him.
Except he’d put himself out there, bared his feelings, risking being stomped on. How could she do that to him? But…she had to protect herself.
“Mike.” Her voice broke on the word. “Oh, Mike.”
“C’mere, Jules.” He reached for her, tugged the covers from her grasp and hauled her back onto his lap.
Chapter Ten
“I know you’re scared,” Mike whispered, stroking her hair, her back. “I don’t know why. Maybe someday you’ll tell me. That’s what I want, Jules. I want to know what’s inside you. What you’re feeling. You never let on what you’re feeling.”
She was silent, quivering against him, warm and soft. She’d asked him why he was bothering and for a moment, he’d wondered himself. But nothing worthwhile was ever easy. And the truth was, he couldn’t not do this. He couldn’t not try. Could he explain it? No.
“When you told me why you wanted me to pose for you…when you talked about being afraid you were never going to take good photographs again, about being afraid that you couldn’t make your business work…I know it was hard for you. To tell me that.”
Her head moved against his chest.
“But you survived it. And it helped me understand you, and then I wanted to do it, for you.”
“Thank you.”
“That’s not why I’m saying this. I’m just pointing out that sharing your thoughts and feelings and fears and joys with someone is how you have a relationship. Right?”
“I don’t know. I told you. I don’t do relationships.”
“You’ve never been in a relationship?”
After a long pause, she said, “No. Not really.”
“Oh.” His chest ached a little at that. Not that he wanted to think of her in a relationship with another man. That idea sucked rocks. But what had happened to her to make her that afraid?
“Why not?”
“I just haven’t.”
He tried not to sigh. He felt like he was getting somewhere, baby steps. But once again his instincts told him not to push. “Well,” he said, nuzzling her hair aside to find her cheek with his mouth. “Maybe someday you’ll tell me about it. In the meantime though, would you give us a chance?”
She sat back and peered up at him, her lavender eyes shiny. He’d thought she’d been crying earlier, but even though her eyes looked bright, she hadn’t really broken down. “I don’t know, Mike,” she said with a sigh. “I don’t know if I can give you what you want. I’ve never…done that. And okay, yeah…I’ll give you this much.” A tremulous smile curved her lips. “It scares the hell out of me.”
“We’re all scared, Jules.”
“I don’t know. I think you’re pretty brave.”
“Yeah?” He huffed out a laugh. “Or stupid maybe.”
“I’m sorry I’m such a bitch.”
His heart constricted. “You’re not a bitch.” He remembered what had started all this—when he’d looked at the photographs she’d taken and seen the emotion in them, some of which he couldn’t even identify. Especially in the photographs she’d taken of his face—she couldn’t capture his own feelings with such poignancy if she didn’t have those feelings herself. The longing. The caring. The fear.
She wouldn’t admit to those feelings. Okay, she’d admitted to being scared. He’d gotten her to confess her fear of failing at her business, with her photography. He knew there was more, but that was a start. She clearly expressed her feelings through her photography, even if she couldn’t talk about them, or possibly even admit them to herself. But he’d seen them. He knew they were there. They drew him to her, more than he’d ever been.