Getting Schooled (The Wright Brothers Book 1) (9 page)

I cleared my throat, and tried not to look like she’d snatched the wind out of my lungs with that question. I smirked. “Yeah. Why? You tryna take me up on it or something?”

“Yeah. Why not?”

Shit, she is killing me.

Almost any other night, under any other circumstances, I would already have her in my car right now after a statement like that. But on
this
night, she was tipsy, heartbroken, and mourning the death of her father… it wasn’t really prime time for me to follow through
.

“Because,” I said, wetting my lips with my tongue. “You’re not… you’re not in any shape to be making a request like that.”

“How do you figure?”

“Come on, Reese. You’re not really yourself, right now.”

“Come on, Jason—”

“Everybody calls me Jay.”

“
Jason.
I hope you don’t think you’re doing some honorable thing right now – cause if you do, I’m about to tell you why that’s bullshit.”

I grinned, crossed my arms, and then sat back in my seat. “Okay. I’m listening.”

“I’m cognizant enough to consent, I’m more pissed than hurt about the mess with Grayson, and regarding my father… this is the healthiest coping I’ve done in years. But besides
all
of that… I’m a grown woman. I’m capable of asking for what I need, when I need it. And what I need now, is the dick down you offered me two weeks ago. Or were you just making shit up, and that’s not
really
something you can handle?”

I lifted an eyebrow, and then uncrossed my arms to give her a little round of applause. “Wow… that was compelling as hell, princess. But listen, Reese. I’m not one of these little nice dudes, who will take you home, wrap you up in a blanket and put you to sleep, like you really need. I’m also not going to “make love” to you. If that’s what you really want, I’m not the guy. If you’re asking me to take you home and fuck you, that’s what I’m gonna do.”

She stared at me for a few seconds and the smiled, grabbing her purse from beside her.

“Great. Let’s go.”

eight.

What the heck are you doing Reesie?

Shaking my head at my reflection, I covered my face with the cool towel one more time, making sure I was completely calm.

Completely sober.

Completely
sure
I wanted to do this.

The ride from Sammy’s had been quiet – I was sure Jason was mulling this over as hard as I was, because for all our shit talking, having sex with someone was a whole other level.

Especially when you end up in a relative stranger’s house.

Yeah.

That.

I’d insisted that we come to his house instead of mine. The last thing I wanted was to have sex in a place where Gray had been, where I’d been with him. Obviously I’d cleaned since the last time we were together, but just knowing that he’d been there at all made me want to scrub everything top to bottom, with bleach. That would happen before I even slept there again, so there definitely wasn’t going to be any intimacy.

Not to mention, the memories. Gray and I used to have fun, and that was reflected in pictures on my dresser and mementos from things we’d done together. I didn’t want to be anywhere near any of that.

So to Jason’s place we came, with him driving.

I’d excused myself to the bathroom as soon as we got here, to see what I looked like after a bar fight, several drinks, and a ridiculous amount of crying. It wasn’t good. I washed my face, dug a little miniature of mouthwash out of my purse to freshen my breath, and unpinned my braids to let them fall around my face. I used the bathroom, utilized my little packet of wipes to make sure everything was
extra
fresh, even though I’d showered right before I left my house. Went back and forth about it, and then decided to take my panties off and stash them in my purse. After I little debate, I took my strapless bra off too.

I was thinking about this too hard. Did men even care if you were extra fresh and pretty when they took you home from a BBQ joint?

I laughed at myself, and then unlocked the bathroom door and pulled it open. I’d left Jason in the kitchen of the open-concept house, but he was nowhere to be seen now. I pulled the bathroom door closed behind me, and he must have heard it, because suddenly he was calling out to me from somewhere in the house.

“I’m in the bedroom,” he called, and I froze.
Straight there, huh?
“Gimme a second, I’ll be out!”

Oh.

Okay.

Breathe, Reese.

He was probably doing a quick clean up, since I was an unexpected guest. What I could see of the rest of his home was incredibly tidy, which was surprising to me, for a man. My father had been a messy guy, and so had Gray. I was always on both of their asses about not being slobs, but I knew it was in vain. Those bad habits were ingrained.

Maybe it was a symptom of being a military man though. The kitchen opened into the living room, where a whole wall was dedicated to army paraphernalia. Framed flags and certificates, plaques, shadowboxes holding dog tags and medals. I took off my boots, leaving them beside his at the front door before I crept a little closer, tossing my purse on the couch as I went. My eyes widened over one particular medal.

“Hey Jason!”

“Everybody calls me Jay!”

“Sure Jason,” I responded, grinning when I heard him let out a loud groan. “What’s with the purple heart? Caught a piece of shrapnel to the head? Is that why you are the way you are?”

“Haha! Very funny!”

I giggled. “No, wait! I know! They gave you these to make up for experimenting on you, huh? You were a scrawny kid, and they pumped you full of stuff? Are you the failed test subject before Captain America?”

He full on laughed at that one, though it was muffled by distance. “Oh, I see you’ve got jokes, huh?”

I was still making my way down his wall of memories when I ran across the pictures, and the sight of him in his uniform honestly made my heart skip a beat.
So damned handsome
, I thought, then moved on to pictures of him and what I assumed to be friends, beside helicopters and other vehicles, pictures of them working. I was no military buff, but I knew a little. Unless I was mistaken, Jason was a sergeant, and in some of the pictures, it was almost like I could
see
the respect from lower-ranked soldiers as they watch him talk, or demonstrate something.

“Yeah, I’ve got
plenty
of jokes. Are you a super-soldier? What’s your trigger word?”

“Well, I don’t know about a trigger
word
,” he said, from somewhere behind me. He was in the room with me, but I didn’t turn around, pretending to be focused on the pictures. “But I damn sure believe you might be a trigger
person,
princess. Swear you make me crazy.”

“What’s wrong Sgt. Wright? Can’t take a little challenge?”

I closed my eyes, sucking in a breath as Jason wrapped his arms around me from behind, pulling me tight against his chest. A whimper escaped my throat as he pressed his lips to my bare shoulder, trailing them up to my neck.

“You know,” he said, his lips brushing my ear, “I like how “Sgt. Wright” sounds from you. It’s about damned time you showed some respect and addressed me by my proper title.”

Eyes still closed, I grinned. “Oh, well I’m definitely never saying that shit again.”

“I bet you do,” he said, sweeping my braids over my shoulder.

Reflexively, I tipped my head to the side, giving him better access to my neck, even as I opened my mouth to say, “I bet I don’t.”

Those words never came out.

Jason’s mouth was delectably hot against my neck, sucking and biting and kissing until I involuntarily arched into him, feeling the heaviness of his dick pressed against the small of my back. I tried, in vain, to bite back a moan as he sucked hard enough to leave a mark, but when his tongue darted out to soothe the sting, I damn near melted against him.

He moved up to my earlobe, sucking the soft flesh into his mouth as his hands moved from my waist to underneath my dress. He groaned in my ear as his hands cupped my bare breasts and squeezed. They felt heavy in his hands, sensitive and hot as his thumbs danced over my nipples. Wetness pooled between my legs as they hardened into stiff peaks under his attention.

I arched against him again, purposely this time. He chuckled a little as he dropped one of his hands, gripping my thigh to urge my legs apart. I opened for him, moaning as his calloused hand cupped my sex, and squeezed.

“You’re ready, huh?” he asked, dipping a thick finger into me. My only response was a sharp gasp as he did that again, pushing it deeper, the palm of his hand rasping over my clit as he pumped his finger into me. “I asked you a question, Reese.” He pinched my nipple between his forefinger and thumb, gently tugging and teasing and making me thrust it further into his hand. He moved his hand from my breast, anchoring it around my waist to keep me still as he drove a second finger into me, plunging deep as he ground the heel of his hand against my clit. “
Reese
…”

“
Yes
,” I moaned, breathless, as pressure began to mount deep in my core.

“Turn around.”

“No. Do it like this,” I mumbled. That was exactly what I wanted, from behind, with his hand on me while he slammed into me.

“
Turn. Around.
”

I shook my head, which apparently he didn’t like very much.

He pulled his fingers from me and turned me around, and as soon as we were facing each other, I scowled.

“You asked about the purple heart,” he said. There was the tiniest shred of anxiety
in his voice, and that made me stop scowling, to actually listen. “This is why.”

His moments in the bedroom must have been to change clothes, because now he was shirtless, with basketball shorts slung low on his hips. Jason’s body was as gorgeous as he was – beautiful pecan skin spread over a thick, muscular frame, decorated with intricately detailed army tattoos. My eyes searched his arms and torso for a wound, for a scar, something to clue me in to what he meant.

And then my eyes dropped lower.

I could barely see them because of the length of his shorts, but Jason had powerfully built thighs. On his right side, his thigh led down to his knee, which led to an equally powerful calf. On the left, it led to his knee, which led to a prosthetic from the knee down.

My gaze shot back up to his, and I was surprised by the level of vulnerability I saw in his eyes. He swallowed hard, then cleared his throat. “Is this going to be a problem?”

What kind of question is that?

It caught me off guard for a couple of seconds, but my mind raced fast enough for a quick recovery. “Are you trying to be funny,
Jason
? Cause this isn’t amusing.”

His face dropped into a scowl. “
What
?”

“Don’t
what
me. You brought me over here with the understanding that you’d be “hitting it right”, and that’s what I expect. Does your dick work?”

“Hell yeah my dick works!” he exclaimed, with an even deeper scowl.

“Then stop making excuses,
Sergeant
, and give me what I came over here for, damn.”

I kept my gaze locked on his until understanding lit his eyes. His scowl softened, and he reached into his pocket, holding up the gold foil packet of a condom. “Turn around. Put your hands on the wall. Spread your legs.”

His voice was firm.

I did as he said, moving to an empty space on the wall. I tugged my dress up around my hips as he ripped the condom open, then pressed my palms to the wall. I shivered at the feeling of his hands on me again, caressing and squeezing my ass before he moved them to my waist. I sucked in a breath as his fingers slid over my stomach, up to my breasts again before his lips touched my shoulder.

He kept one hand cupped around my breast, then used the other to guide himself into me. We both let out a low groan of appreciation as he slid in, making me squirm as my body stretched for him. He filled me up, then didn’t move, locking an arm around my waist to pull me close to him. His other hand moved from my breast to between my legs, pressing his thumb to my clit, just hard enough for me to feel it and want more. I tried to rock against his hand, but he held me still, squeezing me against him a little harder.

And
then
he began to move.

There was a burst of momentum as he plunged into me, hard, even though I would have sworn he was already buried as deep as he could go. That little move sent me up onto my toes with a sharp gasp of pleasure, followed quickly by another as he slid out of me just enough to do that again. I bit my lip hard, trying to hold my composure as he began to stroke. His moves were unhurried at first, carefully measured and delivered, stretching and teasing and pulling out stifled moans.

His thumb started moving against my clit – tight, slow circles, and I squeezed my eyes shut. He burrowed into me, not moving back, grounding his hips against mine, and it felt so good I damn near bit a hole through my lip.

He moved his hand from my waist, burying it in my hair to grip a handful of my braids. He tugged my head back, latching his mouth onto my neck and sucking hard, sending a deep shiver over my whole body. “Stop holding back,” he growled in my ear, then gently bit me there, soothing the sting with a kiss after.

I whimpered something – hell,
I
don’t even know what I was trying to say, but the next moment he started slamming into me with fast, deep,
powerful
strokes, and before I knew it, I was screaming. “
Jay, Jay, Jay
,” over and over as he plunged into me. My whimpers, moans, cries of bliss were punctuated by the smack of skin on skin as the heady aroma of sex filled the air.

He lifted me by the hips, taking me feet off the ground as he drove harder. Weak with pleasure, there wasn’t much I could do except enjoy it. I braced my arms against the wall as pressure mounted in my core, rocking back, meeting him stroke for stroke, rolling my hips as much as I could. Somehow, he slid deeper again, his balls slapping against me as he moved. He used one arm around my waist to keep me up, then moved his other hand between my legs again.