Page 58 of Mine to Share
The other memories from last night flickered in my mind, sparking a simmering heat that built between my thighs. I squeezed them together, relishing the lingering ache from Jameson’s thick fingers stretching me. The hand not tucked beneath my cheek slid down and dipped into my shorts. A sharp gasp rushed down my throat as I swirled the tips of my fingers against my clit while visually devouring every bare inch of the man sleeping beside me.
I swallowed as my gaze scanned along his lean chest. Careful to keep the movements slow, I gently tugged on the sheet, bringing it closer to me. Inch by inch, more of his golden skin was exposed, the streetlight peeking through the slats of the shutters helping me see as the sheet fluttered to the bed, leaving him fully bared to the chilled air.
Clad only in a pair of oh-so-tight black boxer briefs with one leg bent to the side, his arm tossed over his head, Jameson looked ready to pose for the FBI’s naughty agent calendar. I licked my dry lips as I slid my face along the pillow, closing the distance between us.
He shifted, mumbling something as his arm slipped down and his palm slapped to his bare stomach. I froze, riveted on his exploring fingers as they dipped beneath the waistband of his boxer briefs and curled into what looked to be a fist. A croaked moan vibrated out of his slightly parted lips as his head pressed back into the pillow, features tightening.
Unable to stop watching the erotic show, I continued to stare as his hand jerked up and down in quick strokes. The bright streetlamps outside the bedroom window gave just enough light, exposing the swollen head of his dick peeking out the top of his boxers as the tight material shifted lower with every powerful stoke.
My quick breaths fanned across my lips, a soft gasp escaping as I moved my fingers like his tongue had against my clit. Lost in the moment, a sharp hiss caught my attention, dragging my hooded gaze up from Jameson’s moving hand to his face.
His eyes were open, dark gaze locked on me, the light glinting off his straight white teeth as they bit his plump lower lip.
I stilled, knowing I was caught not only watching him but playing with myself as I did.
Muscles locked, all I could do was stare back up at him. Fire burned in my lungs, the trapped breath desperate for release. In the blanket of darkness and the utter silence of the early morning, I pulled my fingers from beneath my shorts and skated them across the smooth sheet. His hooded gaze tracked the movement, not showing a single hint of hesitation when I brushed my fingers against his hip.
“Do you know how fucking sexy it is,” he rasped, voice rough with sleep, “to wake up finding you watching me while touching yourself?” Moisture slipped from my core, dampening my cotton shorts. “I haven’t woken up this hard in a while, Raindrop. I must have been dreaming about you.”
“You were awake?” Obviously, but that was all I could come up with. Maybe I wasn’t as stealthy with pulling the sheet back as I thought. I slid the pads of my fingers along the curve of his hip, brushing the elastic edge of his boxer briefs until they met where his hand delved beneath.
“You want to help?” His voice was so gravelly it sounded like it hurt to speak.
I nodded but couldn’t get my fingers to move.
Unease quickly cut through the lust fog, making me question everything.
Yes, I desperately wanted to touch him, make him feel amazing like he did for me on the couch, but it had been so long since I’d been at this pinnacle step with a man outside of my ex. Even then, those last couple of years, things were so bad we barely touched each other. What if I was out of practice, or out of date on the new hip thing to do?
Damnit. What if jerking him off wasn’t enough, and he wanted me to give him head? I wanted to, but I needed some warning, time to build up to the idea of doing that, since it never was my favorite thing to do. Mostly because every time I did it was after Josh guilted me into it instead of me being desperate to please him. What if Jameson did the same thing now, pressured me, and then I hated him for it?
And we still had to work together—
Firm fingers wrapped around my chin and tipped my face upward. The earlier lust had vanished from Jameson’s lax features, now replaced with concern.
“What’s going on in that head of yours, Raindrop?”
“Nothing,” I said, way too quickly to be true, then winced. Lip between my teeth, I avoided looking into his eyes, not wanting to find the disappointment there. But instead of huffing and getting frustrated like I’d expected, he continued to wait, giving me all the time I needed to find the words to explain how I felt. “It’s just that I’ve seen a lot of penises, so it’s not that I’m scared to touch you. It’s just… been a while. Like years, and I don’t exactly remember the protocol of what to do with one that still has blood flowing through it.”
All the blood drained from my face the second the words left my lips.
Fuck my awkward life.
Shit, now he probably thinks I fondle them—
Jameson’s roar of laughter cut off my twisted—and very concerning—thoughts. I blinked up at him, and he had his eyes squeezed shut, head tossed back, and mouth open as he laughed. After a few seconds, he calmed down, the roaring laughter dwindling to a chuckle.
“Come here,” he murmured.
Before I could even shuffle an inch closer, two hands hooked beneath my arms and hauled me across him until my chest lay over his and our noses were nearly brushing as my head sank into the pillow beside his.
Honey-brown eyes searched mine.
“What I would give to take a few trips around that mind of yours,” he whispered. “Listen, you mentioned that it’s been a while.” Heat scorched beneath my cheeks, and I tried to bury my face in the pillow to hide my embarrassment, but a tug on my hair held me in place, preventing me from hiding from him. “We can take this slow. I’m sorry if I rushed things and made you feel you had to—”
“You didn’t,” I blurted. “I just… I don’t want to disappoint you or make a fool out of myself. I haven’t been with anyone since Josh, and… what if I’m so out of practice from only touching dead people—”
A wide, brilliant smile split his face. His hair rasped along the pillowcase with the slight shake of his head.