Then he promptly fell back asleep. I felt his warm chest through the thin cotton of my (his) T-shirt and his soft, yet possessive, grip, and I smiled as well.
“Love you too,” I whispered, but the only response was the tiny snore he always had when he was first asleep. I was out within five minutes, wrapped in Jack.
Chapter 11
The next morning we woke to the sound of phones ringing. Mine rang first, then his, and in the confusion we bonked heads in the middle of the bed.
“Ow!” I rubbed my forehead while I answered the phone. He mumbled a similar hello into his.
“It’s a big day for your boy, now wake the fuck up,” I heard Holly’s merry voice say.
“Asshead. So good to hear from you so early in the morning. Exactly how early is it?” I settled back against my pillow and squinted my eyes at the alarm clock. Jack had a perplexed and still-half-asleep look on his face, his curls everywhere.
“Holls,” I mouthed to him, and he rolled his eyes.
“Holly, why are you calling both our phones at—Christ, woman, it’s seven a.m.!” he exclaimed, lying back on his pillow as well. He yawned and rolled on his side to look at me. I smiled at him, rolling my eyes as well. Holly’s loud morning voice screamed through both phones.
“I wanted to make sure you were both up. This is a big, big day, and there’s no time for sleeping in. Besides, I need to be sure you’re up before I come over for breakfast. I’m bringing bagels and coffee, since I know you have nothing in the house,” she continued. Jack chose that moment to hang up on her. “Did he just hang up on me? I swear that boy is getting too big for his britches,” she said.
Jack chuckled, still able to hear her chirping. He let his eyes travel down my body, and they stopped on my leg, exposed by the tangled sheets. He grinned sexily, then danced his hand across my skin, starting at my ankle and working his way up. His hand dragged up my leg, making circles on my knee. My skin tingled.
I shook my finger at him as I attempted to listen to Holly. It was getting very hard to concentrate. His hand moved higher, ghosting across my thigh. Then he slipped lower on the bed, bringing his head down to my tummy and pushing up my shirt. I gasped as I felt his mouth brush my skin. It felt wonderful. Holly heard me.
“You okay, Grace? What’s going on?”
“Hmm? Nothing’s wrong. I’m fine,” I sputtered, as he grinned into my skin. He was determined to push it.
He looked back up at me, his chin resting on my belly as his hands snuck to the band of my panties and began to slowly push them down my legs. I shook my head no at him, and he nodded his head yes right back.
Demon…
He settled down lower on the bed and nudged my knees apart with his nose, grinning wickedly.
I mouthed the word “no” one more time, but he just rolled his eyes as if to say “oh, please.” His tongue touched me, and my back arched immediately.
That motherfucker.
Someone fucker, that’s for sure…
Holly had switched topics and was now going on about the dress she was wearing to the premiere. I tried, really tried, to listen, but between the tongue and the fingers and the lips and the vibrating moans he was directing at my oonie, I never stood a chance.
“Holls, I need to…wow…I need to call you….fuuuuck…back….Call you back…I…God damn!”
“Ah jeez, while I’m on the phone, Grace? I’ll be there in thirty minutes. Knock it the fuck off by then,” she instructed.
“Better make it….ungh…I…shit, that’s good…Make it an…hour—hour—hour—Jack!” I dropped the phone and my hands plunged into his hair as he made me come four mother-loving times in a row. It was so good, I almost blacked out. As it was, I lost the ability to see out of my right eye for most of the morning.
When he finally finished, he looked so damn proud.
As well he should be.
“Jesus, George. What the hell?” I moaned as he crawled back up my body, laughing at my noodle arms as I tried to hold him close.
“Don’t die on me now, love. Climb on up here,” he said, rolling onto his back and tucking his hands back behind his head.
I gamely pushed myself up, rolled my neck, and cracked my knuckles. “Climb on up here? Is this what you want me to climb up on?” I asked, gesturing to the very prominent Nice-To-See-You beneath his boxers. I brought him out to see the world on this fine morning. I gave him a quick stroke, then poked Mr. Hamilton with my finger to watch him wag back and forth.
“Are you kidding me with this shit?” Jack asked, raising one shaggy eyebrow at my shenanigans.
I sighed, then cracked my back, rolling my neck again. I really was trying to get some blood moving through my system again after those annihilating orgasms, but I also enjoyed torturing him.
He rolled his eyes. “Grace, you’re not a gladiator going into an arena, you’re about to shag your man. Your man, by the way, who just made you come several times. Now knock it off, and get on top like a good girl,” he said, still keeping his fingers laced behind his head.
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” I fake-grumbled, planting a knee on either side of his waist.
“That’s what she said,” he teased, and I started to lower myself.
“Wait!” he cried, eyes wide.
“What the fuck, George? I’m trying to get my groove on here.” Oonie had sensed her Mr. Hamilton, and she was anxious to be reunited.
“Shirt off, please. I need to see those fantastic tits.”
Now I was the one rolling my eyes, but I obliged. I heard him hiss as he caught sight of them, then laugh as I got stuck in the T-shirt. It caught on one of the earrings I’d neglected to remove last night. The shirt was stuck halfway up my face, my nose propped up in a very Miss Piggy-like way. His laughter grew, and as he laughed, his hips rose. I shifted my weight, trying to get a better angle on my cotton prison, and Mr. Hamilton and Oonie took that very moment to embrace.
I was on top of him, naked, T-shirt stuck around my head, with Oonie holding tight to her Mr. Hamilton. I must have looked like a cross between a Muppet, Jenna Jameson, and the Flying Nun. Jack could not stop laughing, even as he groaned and pressed into me further.
“A little help here, please? And don’t start without me,” I said, trying to be fierce. Through the fabric I could see him finally unlock his hands and gently pull the shirt off. My nose was released, then my eyes. My ear was still caught, but when the shirt cleared my eyebrows he let go. He was laughing too hard.
“Stop it. Come on!” I said, the T-shirt now sticking straight up and out behind me like Erykah Badu.
“Fucking Nuts Girl,” he gasped between chortles. Tears streamed down his bright-red face.
“You think I won’t sex you up good with this on my head? Watch me,” I threatened, rolling my hips in what I thought was a tantalizing way, but made less impressive by the current ridiculous.
“What the hell else would I watch? This is the best show I’ve ever seen,” he said, resting his hands on my hips as I began to ride him.
“I will totally fuck you exactly like this, with this damn T-shirt stuck to my damn head,” I said, fluffing the shirt out like my hair.
“You’re already fucking me. Less talk. More fucking.” He groaned as I began to move faster.
Jack thrust into me with conviction.
I raised up on my knees, then sat back down fast, taking him into me hard. I felt him go deep, really deep, and I began to moan with him.
It soon became too ridiculous even for us to have this thing on my head, so we managed to get it off before we got off. He crumpled the shirt and threw it on the floor, his hands quickly returning to my hips, urging and guiding me.
“You feel so good, Gracie. Just…like…that…God…” he said, his eyes smoldering as he watched me.