He doesn’t go for the kill. Not right away. And as much as I just want him to lick me, I always appreciate the teasing. He nibbles and kisses and then finally, finally, I feel the warm wet of his tongue as it strokes up my center.

“Oh, yes, please.” I turn my head and bite my knuckle to keep the moans from bubbling up, especially when he lets out a low, feral groan and latches onto my most sensitive skin, sucking fiercely.

My toes curl and my eyes roll up. I stop biting my knuckle, half-worried I’m going to break the skin. I prop myself up on my elbow, not wanting to miss out on the visual glory that is this gorgeous man with his head between my legs. This act, so intimate and vulgar at the same time, is something Jake thoroughly enjoys and is extremely skilled at. Lucky, lucky me.

I reach down and slide my fingers into his hair, gripping at the crown, rolling my hips in time with the strokes of his tongue. His gaze shifts up, those blue eyes meeting mine from under his long lashes. I drag my tongue along my bottom lip to wet it, my mouth dry from all the gasping.

“You’re going to make me come if you keep it up,” I rasp.

“That’s the fucking point, babe.” He grins, dark and primal, then resumes stroking me with his tongue, faster, harder, alternating between suction, licking and teeth until a wave of pleasure rolls through my body, stealing my breath and turning the world into a burst of stars followed by darkness.

I fall back onto the mattress, sinking into the bliss of release. When the pulsing slows, Jake moves back up my body and settles between my legs, hips pressing into mine, his thick erection sliding over my still-sensitive skin. He kisses me, and I taste myself on his lips and his tongue.

“Thank you for that.”

“Your orgasms are my favorite sound.” He pushes up on one arm, his face inches from mine. “I want you to ride me.”

There’s nothing better than being in the driver’s seat when it comes to sex. “I want me to ride you, too.”

He grins, then flips over on his back, pulling me on top of him. I settle over his erection and roll my hips in slow circles, teasing like he did to me.

His gaze shifts to the chair where all of our clothes are, and his eyes fall shut for a moment before they refocus on me. “Fuck. The condoms are in my bedroom.”

“We can go without this time.” I suppose that’s the one benefit of this early menopause BS. “If you’re okay with that. Or I can go down—” It won’t be great for my makeup, but I’m not about to leave him like this.

“We can go without,” he agrees.

He’s the only person I’m sleeping with, and while it hasn’t been a conversation, I don’t think he’s had much time for a social life outside of the wedding and me.

I nod and take his erection in my fist, giving it a couple of slow strokes before I rise up and position myself over the head. And then I sink down, slowly, taking him inside inch by inch, until my ass rests on his thighs.

His eyes flutter closed. “Oh fuck, yes.” He grips my thighs, nostrils flaring, every single muscle in his body tightening. “Just stay like that. Don’t move,” he grinds out.

I stay put, but I squeeze from the inside.

He cracks a lid and gives me a disapproving look.

I grin. “I’m not moving.”

“You’re flexing.”

“It’s not the same as moving. You have ten seconds to get yourself under control, Jake, and then I’m going to ride you, like you asked me to.”

A carnal smile turns up the corners of his mouth. “I love it when you give me attitude in bed.”

“Do you now?” I plant my palms on his pecs and lean down, my hair brushing over his chest.

“You already know the answer to that.” His hand smooths up my back and under my hair.

“Mm. Are you ready?”

I don’t wait for his reply. Instead, I roll my hips. His jaw clenches and he tips his chin up, groaning low in his throat. And I do exactly as he asks; I ride him with slow hip rolls and long, deep strokes. I send my Pilates and yoga instructor a mental thank you for pushing me every single week. I need to buy her a gift when I get back to Tennessee. A present for keeping me limber and forcing me to do those freaking Kegel exercises.

Jake is no passive recipient to pleasure. He lifts and lowers me, driving his hips up to meet every single thrust. One hand leaves my waist and his thumb brushes over the base of his shaft, gathering wetness. He rubs tight circles over my clit, pressing firmly as I sink down and rock over him, the head of his erection hitting that spot inside, sending me over the edge. Again.

I’m in the middle of an orgasm, unable to control my body anymore. Jake reaches up and pulls me down, then flips me over so I’m under him. His expression is fierce, lips curling up as he pumps his hips, fast and hard. The world is hazy and soft around the edges, but I manage to keep my eyes open and fixed on his stunning face as every muscle in his body locks up and he groans through his release.

He collapses on top of me, sweaty and breathing heavily. My heart pounds in my chest and I relax into the mattress, sated.

Best distraction ever.

CHAPTER FIVE

That Was Great Until it Wasn’t

Jake

EVERYTHING FEELS HEIGHTENED today. Emotions, sensations, the need to just be inside Hanna. Maybe because yesterday all we managed was a quickie in the bathroom before my house was filled with people and wedding preparations.

Whatever the reason, with all emotions come a certain level of clarity. Feelings that have been lurking at the periphery seem more real tonight.

Needless to say, my post-orgasm high is a welcome release.

Hanna, who’s currently half under me because all I’ve managed to do is roll to the side and trap her leg under mine, glances at the clock on the nightstand. “How long have we been gone?”

Shit. My high pops like a balloon. “I don’t know, but it’s definitely been a while. We should probably head back before someone notices we’re missing.” I can’t believe I’ve disappeared from my own daughter’s wedding reception to have sex. Although, to be fair, that wasn’t my plan when I followed Hanna into the house.

And yet, here I am. But I can’t find it in me to regret my actions. Not even a little. We both needed this. And Hanna needed a break from the dump truck of reality she’s had to contend with today.

Hanna slides out from under my leg and rolls gracefully off the bed, hopping to her feet. She nabs her lacy business from the floor and her dress from the chair and heads for the bathroom.

I tuck an arm behind my head. “You getting all shy on me now?”

She laughs. “Hardly. I need to clean up and get dressed. I’m a little messy.” She winks and disappears inside the bathroom, the door closing with a quiet click.

I get up and get dressed as well. I’m in the process of putting my tie back on when Hanna comes out of the bathroom, looking exactly like she did before I got her out of the dress—apart from the flushed cheeks, anyway.

“Here. Let me help you with that.” She steps in and takes over tying my tie. Not that she needs to. I’ve done it nearly every day for the past two decades. But it’s nice to have someone want to help if for no other reason than it’s an excuse for closeness. She tightens it and rests her hands on my chest. “Thank you.”