We’re kissing like the world’s about to end and we’re the last two survivors on earth. Jake groans, pushing me roughly up against the elevator wall. His tongue slides into my mouth, and my legs go weak.
God, this man can kiss.
I loop my arms around his neck, yanking him closer. I’m greedy for the taste of him—and the feel of his lean, hard body up against mine. His hands move down my back and squeeze my ass, and I arch against him, needing him inside me right this minute. Then the door opens with a ding, and Jake grabs my hand, yanking me down the hallway to his room. He fumbles with the keycard, but it finally swipes, and then we’re inside, alone. I reach for him again, but Jake backs away.
“What about the strike?” he asks, breathing hard. His eyes are stripping me naked and I groan. Dammit with these questions requiring actual answers and thought when all I want to do is tear his clothes off and make the neighbors complain about the noise.
Think, Lizzie. You need a plan.
“The strike,” I repeat. “Right. Fuck.”
To hell with the strike, I want to cry, but he’s right. This isn’t just some random hook-up, it has stakes and consequences and—
“Fuck.” Jake kisses me again, hard and hot, and the strike seems like the furthest thing from my mind. He drags his mouth away and nibbles on my earlobe. “We don’t have to do everything,” he says, sliding his hands between my thighs. He rubs me softly through my dress and I moan, it feels so fucking good.
“Everything but?” I ask through the haze.
“I don’t care,” he growls, spinning me around to face him. “I just want to hear you scream my name when you come.”
Fuck. How’s a girl supposed to turn down an invitation like that?
“Deal,” I gasp, as he kisses down my neck. We stumble across the room to the bed, stripping off clothes as we go. He throws me down on the soft mattress and yanks my dress off, burying his face in my breasts. I run my hands over his naked chest and he nips at my nipple through my bra. I shudder, then he peels the lace away and lavishes me with kisses, lapping and sucking until I’m dizzy and my nipples are straining up in stiff peaks.
“Just so you know, your breasts are epic.” He lifts his head with a grin.
“Thanks!” My voice comes out a squeak, but I can’t help it. Months of sexual tension are shooting through my bloodstream, and my head is spinning from all the amazing sensations flooding my nearly-naked body. I reach to explore his body, but Jake kisses over my stomach, his lips trailing softly down to my thighs.
I tense, but he teases me: stroking over my body, reaching up to toy with my breasts as his tongue roves closer, closer—then retreats from the one place I need him most. I wriggle impatiently. God, I’m wound so tight, I don’t think I could get any wetter, and the way his nose and tongue are brushing lightly against my panties is driving me insane.
“Jake,” I whimper, frustrated, and I hear him chuckle.
“That’s right, baby. Beg for it.”
I lift my head and fix him with a glare. “Really? You’re going to pull that smug asshole bullshit right now?”
Jake cocks an eyebrow and deliberately strokes my clit through my panties, slowly circling and massaging it just right.
I moan. “Oh my god!”
“Say it,” he orders me, and fuck if it isn’t the hottest thing, seeing him all dominant and steely between my legs. “Say my name.”
I bite my lip and shake my head. “Make me,” I challenge in a whisper, and he grins.
“My pleasure.”
He tugs off my panties, and spreads my legs wide. Still holding my gaze, he stokes me again.
“Ooohh . . .” I have to clench my jaw to keep from giving him what he wants. But fuck, that feels so good.
Jake slides a finger inside me and curls. I shudder, my body bearing down against his hand on instinct, but it’s not enough. “More,” I gasp.
“More, please,” he corrects me, fluttering his finger inside me.
Oh god, fuck his know-it-all stare. I need it. Him, all of him, inside me, on top of me, fucking me senseless into these hotel sheets.
“Please,” I say, breaking. “Please, Jake. More!”
“That’s my girl.” He lowers his head and licks up against me, and I lose my fucking mind. His tongue ravages me, licking and swirling over my tender clit until I’m gripping the pillows, crying out for more. He slides another finger inside me and pumps, and fuck, it’s good. Fuller and thicker and right where I need it. I’m so close, but I don’t want to come, not just yet. I reach down and he raises his head up, breathing hard.
“Take it off,” I say breathlessly, and he starts undoing his belt, his fingers moving quickly, but not quickly enough, so I finish the job, freeing his cock so it juts up, hard and ready for me. I fist him in my hand and he groans, and then I can’t resist dipping my head to lick the tip, teasing at his straining head.
Jake lets out a curse and dives back between my legs, his hands gripping hard on my thighs. I send up a silent thanks for all that yoga Della made me do, because I may not be doing Wounded Peacock right now, but I can sure as hell manage a 69. I curl around to take him in my mouth, and although it’s hard to focus through the haze of incredible pleasure, I suck at him eagerly, loving the salty taste and how his cock leaps in my mouth. He’s driving me closer to the edge, I’m not going to last long, but fuck, I try to hold back, fisting his cock and swirling my tongue against his sensitive tip. Jake pumps his fingers inside me and sucks at my clit, tonguing my bud just right, and it’s too much. I explode. Fuck!
I moan against him, the waves crashing through me as I lift my head and cry out in pleasure, pumping him in my fist as my body shakes with the most incredible orgasm of my life. Jake echoes my groan, and then he’s coming, too, spurting hotly all over my naked chest as the pleasure claims us both.
I collapse back on the bed. Holy shit!
Slowly the world comes filtering back in. My chest is sticky, and I can’t keep from giggling at the déjà vu.
“What?” Jake asks, lifting his head.
I grin. “Nothing. Just . . . third time’s a charm.”
He gives me a quizzical look, but I don’t explain. I let out a yawn and stretch, and my stomach makes a loud rumbling sound.
“Hungry again?” He laughs.
“Orgasms burn a lot of calories.” I grab the room service menu from the bedside table and toss it at him.
“You better order me some sustenance for round two,” I say, getting out of bed and walking to the bathroom. “Something tells me you’re going to need it.” I smile, grabbing my purse and closing the door.
I turn on the shower, setting the water to hot. God, I needed that. My whole body is humming with pleasure—and technically, I didn’t even break the strike.
You’ve got to love the technicalities.