Lumber Jacked(10)

“Mmm,” he groaned against my sensitive flesh. “I think this is as good a place as any,” he teased, and then our eyes met over the expanse of my belly. He flashed an insanely wicked smile before his face dove down and my head fell back into the pillows, conscious thought overruled by the feel of his tongue and fingers as he made me come again and again.





Chapter Four





Anna





I jerked awake. Realization dawned on me before my eyes fully opened.

I slept with Jack Simms! I’m a fucking idiot!

I sat up and the sheets slipped down, my bare flesh exposed. My nipples were hard, raw. And I felt… ridden. Swollen. Sore and still a little horny. Thoroughly fucked, as Jack called it last night.

I had to leave. I had to get the hell out of Jack’s bed. I had to get the hell out of Alaska. Last night with Jack was a one-time thing, a mistake. I needed to bail before the ship took off on a course I didn’t plan for. The orgasms he’d given me? Yeah, I could get addicted to them. The man himself was pretty damn addicting. He wasn’t a jackass. He was just Jack, the hot guy who was wild and also tender in bed. Attentive. Inventive. Who made sure I came first… every time. I had no idea there were so many different positions—and surfaces—and ways to have sex.

He was on his back, one arm thrown over his head. Asleep, he wasn’t as dangerous to me, but when he woke, when those dark eyes opened, they’d hold me captive.

Shit.

I looked for my clothes by the bed, but they were nowhere in sight. Carefully, I climbed from the bed. No way was I waking him. The weather had passed sometime during the night and the dawn was clear. Birds sang outside his home and light filtered through his thin, gauze like curtains. I had to be on that plane, leaving Jack and his bionic dick behind.

If Jack was a superhero, sex would be his superpower. And I had no chance of winning that war. My body craved him, even now. Worse, my heart ached when I stared at the five-o’clock shadow on his face, remembered the way his eyes had held my gaze, whispered such dark, erotic promises. Jack liked to talk, to tell me every naughty little thing he was going to do to my body.

Anticipation was almost worse than the cure. He had me so worked up last night, he’d barely had to breathe over my clit and I’d come apart at the seams, screaming his name like a wild woman.

Yes. My only recourse, if I wanted to save my sanity, was to run away like a coward.

I peeked around the open bedroom door, spied his shirt on the floor in the living room, and tiptoed toward it. My shirt was a few feet away, rumpled and still damp and missing every single button. I slid Jack’s shirt around my shoulders and buttoned it up. I picked up my wet socks, pulled up my chafing, wet jeans, and slipped on my boots. They were all disgustingly wet, but I only needed to get back home. I braced myself for Jack’s voice or footsteps from the bedroom, but heard nothing. I snuck to the door, turned the knob, and silently prayed that he wouldn’t hear.

As I slipped around the south end of the house and headed for the tree line, I felt a slight tug in my chest, guilt over my grand escape.

He doesn’t deserve to wake up alone in that king sized bed. He was so great last night.

Thoughts swirled back into my mind and I remembered the feel of Jack’s hot breath on the nape of my neck as he took me again, this time from behind. He was true to his word; he had worked every inch of my body before he finally gave me his cock, which I had begged for in the end. His masculine, rough hands took me by the hips as his cock pounded into me, my nerves frayed as I came again. And again. I lost count at some point, something I’ve never done with other men since it wasn’t all that hard to count to zero, or occasionally one.

I continued to stalk down the path through the trees, headed for the water, but my mind was back in the cabin. Suddenly, I recalled Jack’s rough stubble against my hip. My breath stuttered and my foot slipped on a tree stump as I remembered his nibble on the soft skin of my inner thigh. At some point, he’d whispered, “I’m going to take good care of you, baby. This time, it’s all about you,” as his mouth settled over my pussy. He had braced me against him as I bucked with my orgasm, totally out of control. I let out a little groan of appreciation, my knees weak from the sheer amount of pleasure he had given me.

My core clenched at the thought of Jack’s mouth on me.

See, this was exactly why I had to get the hell out, I scolded myself and picked up the pace.

I kept one eye on the house as I moved and hoped Jack wouldn’t open the door and see my bright plaid in the trees. Finally far enough away from the cabin, I snuck onto the dock, my eyes peeled for signs of movement from behind me. Sighing with relief, I turned in the direction of my plane and ran smack-dab into Jack Fucking Simms.