Recipe for Satisfacton(63)
Sterling grabbed her breasts, kneading the soft skin in her hands. Her pelvis bucked on its own accord. Seconds later, she came undone.
Before she recovered, he was already on top of her, his lips pressing against hers with urgency. The taste of her was heavy on his lips.
“I need you. I’ve never needed anyone…wanted anyone…like I want you.”
These were the things she’d always longed to hear. “Then take me.”
He left her on the bed. Coldness settled in with his absence. He quickly rid himself of his clothes and was back on the bed in less than ten seconds. He crawled up her body, prowling over her. He settled between her legs and thrust inside her in one smooth movement.
He plunged slowly, pumping his hips in a steady rhythm, every thrust pushing her closer to release. Their eyes locked. Great sex was great sex but with the connection of their bodies something shifted. Something that they both couldn’t deny. Something that might change the very relationship they’d agreed to keep casual.
She pushed her head back against the pillow and arched her body, not only giving her the edge she so desperately needed, but relenting to his dominion over her body. He pumped a little faster, but instead of the hard and fast sex she expected, he kept his cool, refusing to unleash his animalistic side, fucking her with a sweet, steady rhythm.
Their eyes connected. At that moment they weren’t fulfilling part of some deal. This was real. She knew right down to her soul.
“Sterling…” He buried his head in her neck and moaned, his body vibrating in her arms.
She rested her hand at the back of his head. “Come for me, Jack.”
He pumped twice and buried himself to the hilt, his body shaking against hers as his cock released inside her. The contractions sent her over the edge and she shuddered, accepting the waves of pleasure that rolled throughout her body.
The way they’d made love was unlike anything she’d ever experienced. They’d broken the rules of their relationship.
And there was no going back from here.
…
Jack played with the wisps of hair at the top of Sterling’s head. She had fallen asleep across his chest, the steady warmth of her breath tickled his skin, and he’d spent the last ten minutes contemplating their actions.
He showed up here expecting celebration sex—although sex wouldn’t be the word he used to describe what just went down with the beautiful woman asleep on top of him—until she leveled him with one look. It was the look he had been afraid of this entire time. The look of more. More than what he wanted. More than what he was willing to give. He had to leave.
He slipped out from Sterling’s embrace, quietly dressed, and made his way to the kitchen.
He’d been tending bar when he’d heard from the lawyers that the details concerning the charity had been ironed out. He left the restaurant wanting to celebrate. And there was only one person he wanted to celebrate with. Sterling.
The idea had come full circle and everything was falling into place. During his stay he’d managed to honor his mother by expanding the program, help out his brothers, and help Sterling have the time of her life. And soon he would be gone. Jetting back to his normal life.
He took a glass from her cupboard and filled it up with the bottled water from her fridge. Her apartment was sparse—not the type of place he expected her to live.
He sipped on his drink as he paced her living space. Old, minimal furniture filled the room, probably hand-me-downs bought from a used furniture store. Not that it mattered. He was fully aware that not everyone had the same privileges he did. And the fact that he knew just how bad things could get made him appreciate Vivian and the opportunities she had set before him even more.
He returned to the kitchen to refill his glass, and when he pulled open the fridge door a mess of papers fell to the floor. “Shit.”
He knelt to pick up his mess. He collected the papers haphazardly on top of each other but he couldn’t help from noticing they were invoices and statements with Sterling’s name on them.
His stomach flip-flopped. He looked toward the bedroom, hoping he hadn’t woken her up. She was still wrapped up in the comforter, fast asleep.
He didn’t mean to look at the contents of the papers but it was impossible to miss the red OVERDUE scrawled at the top of the bill. Formal letters from the bank demanded payment of a home—her home. Underneath that, there were several credit card statements totaling thousands of dollars. That would explain why she lived in this apartment. But how could she have possibly gotten herself into such a situation? Sterling was the most responsible, organized person he’d ever met. There’s no way she would fall behind on mortgage payments.