Chapter 59
STEPHANIE
Stunned at the intensity of the hunger in Jeremiah’s eyes and the bruising way he kissed me, I touched a finger to my lips and shook my head. “None whatsoever.”
“Good,” he all but growled, bracing his hands under my thighs to lift me off his lap and lay me down on the couch beside him. I frowned, unsure how this position was going to lead to more kissing until he crawled over me and held himself up on his elbows. He tucked them close to the sides of my head to fit on the width of the couch.
Heat spread through me when he slanted his lips over mine again. It sparked and grew, my pulse racing as he stoked a bonfire in the core of my being and tended to it with each wanting lap of his tongue.
If kissing me was language, Jeremiah spoke it fluently. He knew exactly when to switch between hard and soft, fast and slow. He knew when to let his weight sink into me and when to roll his hips.
Dry humping was something I hadn’t done since the days of sneaking in a quick make-out session in the back seat of a car or on a lawn at a house party when someone’s parents were out of town. I didn’t remember it riling me up this much, making me this desperate.
My breasts felt heavy, my nipples tightened and straining against my bra. When I thought about my underwear, I hit a mild panic. I got dressed for drinks with Shawn and an early night to bed. No one was supposed to see these.
Jeremiah broke our kiss, questions in his heated eyes. “I thought you had no objections.”
“Not to kissing.” I breathed, feeling my cheeks heat from embarrassment instead of arousal. “But—”
He placed a soft kiss on my lips. “You’ve been through a lot this week. If kissing is all you want, it’s all we’ll do.”
“It’s not that.” My cleft ached for him. Empty and swollen. “It’s just… I didn’t exactly dress for the occasion.”
His eyes slid down to my chest, only an inch of the black tank I was wearing visible from how closely we were pressed together. “You look beautiful to me. You always do but correct me if I’m wrong. If you do want more than kissing, isn’t the point to get out of whatever you’re wearing?”
“That’s the problem,” I mumbled, then attempted a playful grin. “Let me run to the bathroom for a minute. I’ll be so easy tonight because of your silver tongue, I’ll take my own clothes off.”
His mouth quirked up into a devilish grin and for a second, I thought I was going to get away with it. Until he sat back and reached for the hem of my shirt. “I’ll take you naked any way I can get it, but I prefer getting you there myself. It’s like unwrapping the best gift I’ve ever gotten.”
“What if the wrapping paper is really plain. Practical instead of being say, birthday or Christmas themed?”
His eyes narrowed, a soft groan escaping from the back of his throat. “Please tell me that’s not what this is about.”
“I wasn’t planning on giving anyone this gift tonight,” I admitted, wishing he would just kiss me again or let me up so I could go destroy the cotton granny panties and comfortable, faded T-shirt bra I was wearing.
Why did it never happen like this in books or movies? Except for that one movie, of course. The girl never got caught in anything that wasn’t lacy and sexy. Note to self: From now on, only wear the comfortable stuff to the gym.
Jeremiah tugged at my shirt, urging me to raise my upper body so he could pull it off. When I hesitated, he brought his lips down to my neck. They traveled down slowly, leisurely as he punctuated his kisses with husky words.
“Let’s get this straight. You are the sexiest woman I’ve ever met, and you would be even if you were wearing a burlap sack.”
My resolve melted against his words, his hot kisses. Even if color-wise, he wasn’t that far off with the burlap sack thing. Undeterred by my lack of verbal response, he kept kissing a path down between my breasts and pulled down on my shirt to free my flesh.
His eyes became even hungrier, wilder when he did the same to the other. With both breasts exposed, he trailed two fingers around the curve of each and left goosebumps in his wake. “You are exquisite. You’re literally my fantasy in the flesh. I love lingerie as much as the next guy, but this is real. It’s life. I don’t need you to be wearing silk and lace to want you. I want you all the damn time.” He reached for my hand, and when I gave it to him, he brought it down between us and placed it over his erection. “Feel how much I want you, how much I need you.”
I squeezed his cock, hard as a steel rod. A whimper tumbled from my lips. Burlap sack aside, I wanted that inside me as much as he did. “I need you too.”
Raising my tank with his fingers, he silently asked for permission, and I gave it to him by lifting my torso. He pulled the shirt clean off and deftly unhooked my bra next, dropping it without sparing it a second glance.
My blood heated when I heard him take a sharp breath as soon as I was fully bared to him. Never in my life did I think I would feel so wanted, so brazenly sexual than when I was with him. My back arched, my puckered flesh begging for his attention.
Jeremiah obliged eagerly, sucking one nipple into his feverishly hot mouth while sliding the pad of his thumb over the other. I cried out in relief and desperation for him to keep touching me. “Please, Jer.”
“Getting there, angel. I’m not rushing anything tonight.” He spoke against my chest and went back to it, never stopping until I wondered if I would be able to come from just his attention to my nipples.
My hips thrashed against him, grinding until I was frenzied and hanging on by a thread. I was getting so close I could almost taste the euphoria on the tip of my tongue. Planting my hands on his shoulders as I sought my release, I cried out when he lifted his lower body up and out of my reach. “Jeremiah!”
“Sshh Steph, I know. I won’t leave you hanging.” It sure as hell felt like he was doing just that. His hands slid down my sides, and soon after, my jeans hit the floor. My soaked granny panties along with them.