Right Kind of Wrong(26)

No. He would not control me.

Slapping the condom off the nightstand, I quickly tore it open and rolled it over his hard, thick erection. Then I lifted myself over him, placed him at my entrance, and slowly slid down onto him. As I descended, I made the mistake of looking at him and found his eyes watching me with something I wasn’t ready to see. Sure, there was lust in his eyes, there was desire and hunger, but there was also something that couldn’t be—something frighteningly close to love—and I was locked in the hot gaze of it as I connected our bodies and filled myself with his hardness. The moment his erection tapped the back of me, stretching me out and rubbing against every desperate nerve inside my core, I let out a gasp and my eyes fluttered.

He felt so good. Closing my eyes, I moved over him, up and down, bringing more pleasure to both our bodies and working up a sweat as I sat atop his large penis and rode. He was just a body, I told myself. A hot body. This was just pleasure. Nothing more. No emotions needed to be involved.

My heart pounded as I tipped my head back, giving in to the lust and animal instinct inside with small moans and light whimpers. Soon, I was just a creature, drawing pleasure from another creature. All was how it was supposed to be.

But then I heard it. “Jenna.” And the black hole of lust I’d leaped into spit me back out and my eyes flew open. Jack set his hands to my hips and held me in place on top of him, roughly sliding his hand up my spine while at the same time pushing me down to him. When my face was right in front of his, with our bodies still hot and feverish and joined together, his jaw set and his eyes steeled over.

“Look at me,” he said. His hand wound around my shoulder and took my chin. Gripping it sternly he said, “I want your eyes.”

My core flexed in desire, squeezing his long erection inside me, and a whimper escaped my mouth. I didn’t want to look at him. I didn’t want to see him. To see Jack.

Because then Jack would see me, and surely see the emotion I was trying to keep at bay inside me.

“Please, Jenna,” he said, his raspy voice raking over my mouth as he trapped me in a kiss and pulled at my lips until I was nodding in agreement. Then he released my chin and lips and relaxed his head as I lifted up again.

Now straddling him with my eyes directly on his, I slowly pulled my core up his thickness then slid back down. And again. He watched me without expression, just his eyes on mine, watching my naked body pull pleasure from his and give that pleasure right back. It was personal. It was intimate. And it was so unfamiliar that I could hardly contain the emotion blossoming inside my soul.

Trying my best to concentrate on the pleasure, not the sentiment, I gained momentum and rode him more fervently until my hair was a mass of black strands whipping about my face and sweat dripped down my spine. My swollen breasts swung with my movements and I sank my nails into the large pecs of his chest. I was powerful above him, completely in control. A hurricane. A fierce storm. I was the owner of his body and pleasure. I was the queen. I was his master.

But my eyes stayed on him as promised, and with every stroke of pleasure came another tug at my soul, at that deep dusty place inside me. Until looking at him burned my eyes and choked my throat. As if his hand was against my windpipe again, I couldn’t watch his eyes without suffocating.

I blinked away the stinging. I rode him like an animal. I moaned. I blinked again.

“Jenna,” he said, but this time it was a soft word, as he watched my emotions seep through. It was a word of permission and understanding, and it completely unraveled me.

A single tear fell down my face as I moved above him, followed by another. The emotional thing inside me was now awake and unrelenting, fighting with the beast of pleasure, and losing. I kept my eyes on Jack and he kept his eyes on me, a million silent words between us as tears streamed down my face.

Somewhere along the way, I’d lost all my control when it came to Jack. But maybe I never had any to begin with.

Blinking back to the present, I stare at the motel ceiling. So much can happen in so little time. So much can change.

Turning my head to face the open door between our rooms, I stare across the darkness at Jack. I can’t tell if he’s awake or not, but a small part of me wants to crawl into the sheets beside him. Not to recreate the hot—albeit emotionally confusing—sex we had a few months ago, but because… because… he’s my friend. And sleeping a doorframe away from him feels wrong, which is weird because I sleep several blocks away from him every night back home in our apartments.

God, Jenna. You’re so weird. Get it together.

Rolling onto my side, I turn my back on the doorway between us and let out a long, slow breath. Eventually, I fall asleep to visions of hot tears, slick body parts, and a pair of deep gray eyes sinking into my soul.