Feverish (Bullet #3) (24 page)

She let her hands feel his legs the entire
way down, pausing at one rip in the jeans to lick the leg
underneath, but soon she was sliding off the edge of the bed. The
house still felt too quiet, so she sauntered over to his stereo. “I
wanna listen to something,” she said and quickly flipped through
the stack next to the stereo. She grabbed the Asking Alexandra CD
and fed it into the player, just starting it from the
beginning.

And then it was time to let the torment
begin. She walked back to Jet and climbed on the bed, where she
urged his head up, slipping a second pillow underneath it so it was
propped up, and then she walked back to the end of his bed. She
closed her eyes for a few moments, letting herself feel the music,
swaying her hips and running her fingers through the length of her
hair multiple times. She wanted to heat him up, but she was doing
it for herself too, because she was going to put on a show.

She lifted the straps of her dress with her
thumbs then, moving her thumbs down the length of the straps to the
front of the dress and back. Then she removed them and slid her
left hand under the right strap, urging it down her arm. In an
agonizingly slow motion, she pulled the strap down her arm while
pulling the arm up and out, and then she repeated it with the other
strap. She reached behind and slid the zipper down to her waist,
just enough to loosen the top without pulling it all the way off.
She peeled the top down then, revealing her bare breasts.

She saw the look on his face. He wasn’t
expecting that. Maybe he’d thought she was wearing a bra
underneath. She drove her fingers into her hair again, running them
through the length once more, and stopped when she got to her
shoulders. “Too bad you’re clear over there,” she teased. “I guess
I’ll just have to imagine you’re over here.” She slid both hands
down the front of her body, down her breasts, taking in a deep
breath of air as she did, stopping at her belly. Her eyes were half
closed, but she could see that her little show was definitely
having the effect she’d hoped. He was hurting…and he had no idea
how bad it was gonna be by the time she was done. Splaying her
fingers on her belly so that her fingers pointed downward, she
began to drag them back up again, this time taking her breasts in
her hands and massaging them, moaning as she did.

Success. She was plenty hot, but he was in
pain now. She bit her bottom lip again and swirled her fingers
around the areolas, aware that she was still swaying her hips to
the music. She stuck her index fingers in her mouth then, sucking
on them as suggestively as she could, and then brought her wet
fingers to her nipples, gasping when she did.

She let out a long sigh and then lifted her
skirt to hook her thumbs into the side of her coral-colored
panties. She shimmied her hips as she worked them down, a motion
that did nothing to get them off but everything for Jet’s hot
state. And for the hell of it, she threw them at him when she was
done. They landed on his chest and she saw his pecs heave, but his
eyes were still on her.

“Hmm. Still stuck there, huh? Shame you can’t
join me.” She lifted her right leg and positioned it on the bed and
then brought her hands to her knees, slowly moving up her thighs,
bringing the skirt back up again. This time, though, her propped
leg kept the skirt in place for the most part. She made sure she
was spread a little wide so he could see her. Then she made a point
of shoving the index and middle fingers of her right hand into her
mouth. She sucked on them like she would his cock, even throwing in
a guttural breath. She was pretty sure she was plenty wet, but it
wouldn’t hurt, and she knew it would just add to the pain he was
feeling. She held her thigh on the left side, along with keeping
the skirt on that side a little higher, and then slid her fingers
down her slit.

Yeah, she was plenty slick, and if he thought
he didn’t have anything to do with that, he was wrong. Oh, that
delicious first stroke. “Oh, God, yeah. That’s what you might feel
like.” She heard him groan then and she half opened her eyes to see
his hands balled up into fists. That made her resolve that much
stronger. She stroked again and gasped. She could make it last so
long, or she could come quickly. She knew how to guide herself to
sweet ecstasy every time, and she really wanted him to be inside
her. Still, she didn’t want to deny the show she already started,
so for a while, she just took her time and made as big a production
of it as she could, gasping and moaning. When she got a little
closer, she played with one of her breasts again too, and then she
decided to bring it home. She changed the motion and rhythm,
speeding it up. She made a point of gasping, “Oh, Jet,” just
before, and then she moaned louder than usual as she gave in to the
orgasm. At that point, she lost awareness of her surroundings and
focused only on her clit, where untold pleasure undulated forth
throughout her body. She knew she was being louder and louder but
there was no stopping herself now.

And then she felt spent and stopped, resting
her chin on her chest, her breathing labored. As she got control of
her body, she started to regret that move, because she was tired at
that point. But she opened her eyes and looked up. Clay—or Jet,
rather—was in a bad way. His cock was trapped inside his jeans and
she could tell he was hurting. She wanted to tell him,
Just a
little more
, but she didn’t want to shatter the illusion. She
put her leg on the floor and finished unzipping the dress, letting
it fall to the floor.

She got up on the bed on her hands and knees,
thinking
Time to put my man out of his misery.
The thought
flashed momentarily, wondering why she was thinking of him as
her man
when she had honestly just thought of him as a toy
or, rather, a playmate, someone to have fun with until later. And,
yet, there was that thought, and she didn’t have time to analyze
it. Instead, she decided to continue teasing him, and she kept her
head low but looked at him. She wanted to look ravenous, because
she felt that way. She wanted him inside her.

She grabbed her panties off his chest and
threw them to the floor and started kissing one of his nipples
again, open mouthed, and licked him on her way to his face. His
voice was low, almost a growl, when he said, “A hell of a
show.”

She smiled and buried him in a kiss. When she
broke away, she said, “Shut up, you.” He smiled and almost laughed,
but she could tell he was getting desperate. Still, she had a
little more playing to do. She sat up some and eased her breast to
his mouth. He took it in and she let out another sigh. She felt
herself growing wet again, and that was a good sign, because she
wanted him so badly. She started to sit up the rest of the way, but
he leaned his head up and licked her other nipple. She paused,
sighing, trying not to dig her nails into his chest so hard.

She started moving down his body and he said,
“Hold on. Come straddle over me up here.”

“What?”

He stuck his tongue out. Then he said, “Let
me taste you.”

She scrunched her nose and added next, her
voice like a petulant child, “No.” She started sliding down his
body again.

“Emily…”

Ooh.
His voice sounded kinda firm. She
liked it. But no way. She looked up at him and said, “No,” this
time stronger as well. He raised his eyebrows and started to say
something, but she yanked on his zipper. God, he was in there
tight, and she knew he had to be hurting by now. She eased his cock
out and then scooted down further, easing his jeans down a little
more. She wrapped her hand around the girth of his cock and brought
her face close. She breathed on him for a little, just letting him
enjoy a little more torture. She could feel him throbbing against
the palm of her hand, and she could see the liquid oozing out of
his cock in anticipation of what was coming. She licked the tip
like she would a sucker—long and slow. Then she took the head into
her mouth and sucked on it. She didn’t want him to climax yet,
though, so she let go of him and stretched out, partially over him
and partially over the side of the bed until she could reach the
nightstand where he kept the condoms.

She opened the drawer and leaned forward a
little more. She felt around and found one. She took it out and
ripped the package open, throwing it to the ground. She slid the
condom over his cock and then positioned herself over, and she
glided down. She wasn’t ready for the torture to end, so she was
going to move slowly for a while. She could tell he was close,
though. She’d put him through the wringer, and he wasn’t going to
last much longer. But she wasn’t either. He felt so perfect, the
way her body molded to his as though they were meant to be
together. She undulated her body over him, a slow up-and-down
motion of waves, pulling him out and shoving him in, and she felt
the quality of her breathing change again as she started climbing
toward release.

“Oh, God,” he said and then he let out a gust
of air, giving into the ultimate pleasure he was feeling, and that
was all it took for Emily’s orgasm to wash over her as well. She
cried aloud, moving faster now, as they shared the moment. Emily
could sense him throbbing inside her as she clenched against him,
and it made her feel complete.

After she finished, her breathing slowed and
she rested her head on his chest, leaving him inside her. She
wanted to just appreciate the moment before she had to get up and
untie the ropes. For the moment, she wanted to feel as close as
possible to this man, and she didn’t care what he wanted to call
himself—Jet or Clay or something in between—because in spite of all
she’d been doing to fight against it, she was starting to care very
much for this man.

Chapter Twenty-five

GODDAMN, WAS THAT nice. Clay lay there,
feeling quite satisfied. He’d asked Emily to play around with Jet,
and she’d run with it. Hell, she’d gone above and beyond, way
further than his expectations. His heart rate was finally slowing,
and even though he wanted to hold her close, he was okay with just
having her rest her head on his chest.

Oh, but he wasn’t done with her yet. She just
didn’t know it. So when she said, “I suppose I should untie you,”
he nodded his head. She kissed him and then lifted herself off him.
She slid off the bed. God, she was cute, the way she looked at him
almost sheepishly, as if she were having second thoughts about what
they’d done.

The music was still playing, even though
they’d been resting a few minutes. It energized him. He felt the
rope loosen around his right wrist, and he started twisting it back
and forth to speed up the process. She went to the other side of
the bed and started untying it there, but he managed to get his
right hand out of the ropes and used that hand to loosen the other
one. By the time Emily had the other side unknotted, he was free.
The first thing he did was pull the condom off and toss it in the
trash can beside the bed.

She joined him back on the bed and smiled.
Before she could even snuggle up next to him, he wrapped his hand
around her neck and kissed her with overwhelming passion. Then he
said, “You didn’t do everything I asked.”

She giggled. “You only told me to tie you
up.”

He smirked once more. Yeah, Jet was still in
control right now. “No, I asked you to do something else, and you
didn’t.” He pushed on her shoulders so that she was lying on the
bed, and he kissed her again. He trailed his hand down her neck,
collarbone, and then brushed her breast. Her nipple hardened at his
touch, so he moved his lips to her neck.

“What?” She was barely able to talk. It was
more like a breath coming out of her mouth.

“I wanted to taste you and, if you’ll recall,
you told me
no
like a spoiled brat.” She let out a breathy
chuckle, but as his tongue circled her nipple, it turned more into
a gasp. He kissed down her torso and paused at her navel. “You can
turn Clay down, Emily, but not Jet. Maybe you’re not comfortable
playing with Jet.”

She did start laughing then and managed to
say, “I love you both ways.” His tongue swirling her clit shut her
up, aside from the low groan she let out. And while he let his
tongue do its thing—easy for him—he focused on her words. His brain
was freaking out. First of all, she said she
loved
him. Now,
he was pretty sure that was just a slip. He knew she didn’t care
about him, and even if she did, it wasn’t deep.
Love
wasn’t
what she was feeling. No, that was heat of the moment and afterglow
talk. What was sinking in, though, was that she said she liked both
sides of him. That was huge. She knew Clay first and was more than
okay with him.

So Jet let go and let Clay take over. Jet had
been a little irritated that Emily hadn’t done what he’d told her
to do, but she’d completely melted him now. So instead of
aggressively tongue-fucking her, he slowed his pace, lapping at her
like she were ice cream and he wanted to savor every bite. She
responded, and within minutes, she was crying aloud, giving into
yet another orgasm.

She was sweet, and he loved to hear her. It
was even better now than the first time he’d heard her, because now
he knew her cries were for him, and it made him want to never stop
making her feel like she was on a cloud.

When he stopped and crawled up to her, he
kissed her on the forehead and pulled her into his arms. She looked
completely spent. “Just sleep, baby,” he said, and fell asleep
too.

They woke up around midnight and made pasta.
He wasn’t sure how Emily made it taste so good without butter, but
she was incredible. He talked her into taking a shower together and
she repaid the oral favor. She protested when he told her he wanted
to make her feel fantastic again, but it didn’t take much for her
to change her mind. They stayed up late talking and listening to
music. He played her a few bands she’d never heard before, like
Motionless in White and The Devil Wears Prada, and they kept
talking.