And be glad there’s an ocean to keep us apart.
He’s silent for a moment as he lowers his face and nods. Slowly, he runs his hand down the inside of my thigh, circling his fingertips through the lips of my sex.
His mouth latches onto my clit, eliciting a deep moan from me, then from him. Our gazes lock and when he slowly slides a thick finger inside me, my back arches and my head touches the headrest behind me.
“Look at me,” he growls, pressing his thumb against my clit.
Our eyes meet again as another finger slides inside me. My eyelashes flutter as my body instinctively clenches around them.
Jack hisses his approval, and lazily he removes his fingers, before sliding them back into my heat.
“Oh God,” I whisper. He doesn’t stop, he keeps pumping me with his fingers. My arousal is building, the sounds of my pleasure filling the back of the car.
“Come for me, Amber. Come on my tongue.”
He spears his tongue inside, not removing his thumb. French kissing my pussy as dots flash behind my eyelids and I can no longer keep them open as I listen to the sounds of him eating me out like he is a starved man.
My climax comes fast.
My fingernails dig into his shoulders, his head, his arms as I try to control what’s happening.
He doesn’t stop until my body stops trembling.
“Oh wow,” I say when I come down from my high.
Totally uncool, Amber. Nobody says wow after an orgasm.
He kisses me between my legs, my thighs, the inside of my knees as our eyes lock and I wonder how I’ll go the rest of my life without him.
Jack’s igniting things inside me I never thought were possible. A few nights of being around him, but I know I’m going to have to be brave and forget about him after Vegas.
He finally rises and sits on the seat beside me, pulling me into his lap. My heart beats too rapidly. I twist on his lap, straddling him. Slowly, I stare into his eyes as I undo his shirt button, one by another slow one, until I finally push the material back and stare at his chest. I’ve already seen it at the pool, but somehow seeing his muscular torso like this seems more erotic.
“Do you have a condom?” I ask.
“I’m your husband; I shouldn’t need a condom,” he says. Luckily, there’s a rise on one side of his mouth, and I take that he means it jokingly.
“Unless you want to risk a baby, you need a condom,” I say, arching an eyebrow. “I’m not on the pill and...”
“And...”
“Well, you did say you only had sex three weeks ago. You have no girlfriend and haven’t had one for a long time, which can only mean one thing.”
“What’s that?” he says, with a hint of annoyance in his tone.
“You need to use a condom,” I smile. “Before the moment goes.”
He picks me up like I weigh nothing and places me on the seat beside him. Leaning forward, he presses a button, and the privacy screen lowers.
“We’re ready to go back now,” he says.
Everything but my beating heart is too quiet after that.
I stare out of the window and watch as hotel after hotel passes by.
Finally, the car pulls up at the hotel. I open my purse and take out my business card, then step out of the limo and walk into the hotel lobby.
“Amber,” he says.
