Chapter 33

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Jigsaw

Unease curls in my stomach. I revealed an awful lot to Margot while we had dinner. Things I've never told another woman. She deals with enough grief and sadness. I shouldn't dump my ancient baggage on her.

She slides off her stool and presses the softest kiss against my cheek. "Are you still hungry?" She nods to the glass dish still half-full of baked pasta.

I could probably finish the whole thing, but I don't want to eat all of her food. "I'm good."

"I only have fruit for dessert." She lifts her chin toward a bowl on the counter full of red apples and a few ripening bananas.

"You mind if I run downstairs and grab my stuff?" I don't want her to think I'm trying to move in, but I'd like to get my toothbrush and a couple other items.

She grabs our plates. "Not at all."

"I'll help you with that." I stand and try to take the plates from her hands.

"I've got it. Go get your things." She points toward the hallway. "The laundry's right next to the bathroom. Wash whatever you want."

I lean down and press a quick kiss to her forehead. "Be right back."

Am I really doing this? Staying over at a woman's place? Wanting to stay. It's not because Rooster's still in Tennessee and the house will be empty. If I'm lonely, I could go to the clubhouse and hang with the guys who came back with me. If I just need a warm body to fuck, I can easily ride down to Crystal Ball and sweet-talk one of the dancers into spending the night with me at the clubhouse next door.

But I specifically want to be here . In a house I find a little bit creepy, with a woman I can't seem to get enough of.

By the time I return, she's cleaned the kitchen. She's bending over, sliding something into the fridge. Now that one hunger's been satisfied, another appears with a vengeance.

I drop my bag by the door and stride into the kitchen. She closes the fridge at the same time I reach her. I grip her hips and pull her to me.

"Miss me?" I breathe against her neck.

A soft, gasping laugh flows past her lips. "I did."

Sliding my hands from her hips to the buttons of her shirt, I quickly work them loose, pleased she didn't bother putting anything else on underneath. She leans against me, bracing her hands on my thighs and arching her back, giving me better access to the buttons.

"You don't mind me stripping you down in the kitchen, right?"

She shakes her head.

"Good." I cup one breast, lightly pinching her nipple. "Are you game for another lesson?"

"Yes."

I drag the shirt down her arms and toss it on the counter. "Come here." Grabbing her by the hips again, I push her closer to the counter. "Brace your hands against the edge."

She gets where I'm going with this immediately, bending at the waist to press her palms to the curved edge. "Like this?" She tilts her hips, tipping her ass up.

"Exactly." I run my fingers down her spine, loving the way she trembles under my touch. "These shorts are cute, but they have to go."

"Okay." She twitches her hips from side to side as if asking me to hurry.

I drag them down her legs, stopping to kiss the backs of her thighs and sink my teeth in one round butt cheek. She hunches her back like she's trying to hide. "No." I tap her butt. "Arch your back for me."

A hesitant grunt catches in her throat. I think I understand the problem. "Margot. I love your ass." I trace my fingers over one cheek and down the back of her leg. "That night when we were all here." I don't remind her why we were here. "When you bent over in the kitchen downstairs to get that case of water, I had to work so hard to control myself." I rise and, holding onto her hips, drag her back against me so she can feel how hard I am for her behind my fly. "I wanted to strip you out of that cute little bank robber outfit you were wearing and do exactly this."

Short, nervous laughter bursts out of her. "You remember what I was wearing?"

"Yeah, you were fucking adorable." Since that night I've been consumed by her but it seems like too much to admit. I wedge my hand between her thighs. "Spread your legs for me."

She inches her feet apart.

I groan as I cup her bare pussy, sliding a finger between her lips. Anxious or not, she's into this. "You're so wet." I tease her clit until she's rocking against my hand.

She reaches one hand back, clutching at my jeans.

"No." I place her hand back on the counter.

She turns her head and glares. "Why are your pants still on?"

I dip one finger inside her and groan when she closes her eyes and drops her head. Breathless and arching into my hand, she lets out a frustrated whine.

"Give me a minute." I drag her wetness to her clit, slowly circling and teasing until I find the right motion that strings her body tight. I work my jeans loose with one hand and pull the condom I'd stashed in my pocket earlier free.

She moans and bucks against me as I fumble with the fucking rubber. "Hold on."

Growling with annoyance, I have to stop touching her so I can use both hands to roll the condom down my dick.

She arches and wiggles. Raises up on her tiptoes, then down again. Eagerly waiting. I grab her hips. I have to bend at the knees to line us up but finally I'm sliding into her, fighting the urge to slam in one thrust.

"Yes," she whispers, pressing back against me. She squeaks and retreats.

"Too much?" I ask, stopping my movements.

"No…just different."

"Different good?" I squeeze her hips. "You move. Work yourself on my cock. Show me how much you need."

She's hesitant at first, then moves in unhurried, languid movements. I sink my teeth into my lip, pushing away my desire to bang away at her with quick, deep thrusts.

Her raspy moans echo around us. "Jensen," she breathes.

"I've got you." I push forward again, filling her with slow, even strokes.

"Oh God yes," she whimpers.

Her body trembles and tightens. She clutches the counter, hanging on as I increase my pace.

Fuck. I want her mouth on mine. Her breasts mashed up against me. Visually, this is hot as fuck, but I suddenly need more. She's building toward another orgasm when I pull out of her.

"Jigsaw?" she yelps.

I grab her around the waist and boost her onto the counter, dragging her to the edge and wedging my body between her spread thighs. I crash my lips against hers and swallow her moans of pleasure. She circles her arms around my neck and drags her fingers through my hair.

This angle sucks. The counter's too high or she's not close enough to the edge. Whatever the physics of it is, my knee keeps hitting something, throwing off my rhythm.

"Come here." I lift her off the counter, impaling her.

"Oh!" she gasps and giggles, then wraps her legs around me. Using her hands on my shoulders for leverage, she starts working herself up and down.

"Fuck." I squeeze my eyes shut. "You're a natural at this."

My frantic gaze ping-pongs around the apartment for a suitable surface. Can I make it into the bedroom?

Chair. It's closest. Pants falling down my legs and Margot distracting me with her movements, I shuffle to the chair and gently lay her in it. I have to slip out of her for a moment. She threads her fingers through my hair and pulls me down for a kiss as I fill her again. In a hard, frenzied rush I pound into her. She lifts up, pressing her mouth to mine, opening so I can sweep my tongue against hers.

This woman has me absolutely turned inside out. The sounds of our bodies sliding together mingle with her breathy whimpers. She hooks her arm around my neck and whispers against my ear, "Your cock feels so fucking good filling me."

Demons below , those filthy words coming from Margot set me off. I sink deep inside her, spilling into the condom. Completely spent, I rest my head on her chest. Her heartbeat's wild against my ear. She threads her fingers through my hair and brushes kisses against my sweaty forehead.

If I'm not careful, I could get addicted to this.

Margot

After we peel ourselves out of the lounge chair, Jigsaw kicks off his jeans.

"Felt like I had a lot of things working against me there." He lets out a wild bit of laughter and runs his hands through his hair.

"I couldn't tell." Everything we did was electrifying. Except maybe when he pulled me to the edge of the counter and we couldn't make that angle work.

He decides to worry about doing his laundry later and we end up in my bed. I'm spent but restless.

Words I want to say bubble up, then pop. Questions I want to ask but shouldn't.

He holds out his arm, inviting me closer. Tentatively, I inch my body next to his until our legs are touching. His skin's so warm, his body so solid and brimming with life even though his eyelids droop as if he's on the verge of sleep.

I rest my head on his chest. He runs his fingers over my hair. "I didn't mess it up too bad, considering." His voice and laughter rumble against my cheek.

He seems to be twirling locks of my hair around his finger. It's soothing and I'm almost drifting into sleep when his chest ripples under me.

"You can knock kitchen counter sex and standing doggy off your list now, but I think you're going to need a shorter guy for the counter sex."

My heart stops. Shorter guy? List? I don't want anyone else.

This is still nothing more than some casual lessons for him.

I sit up, fear beating a steady drum in my chest.

"What's wrong?" Concern edges into his voice.

"I made a mistake."

He sits up, resting his hand on my back. "About?"

"This."

"It's the feel-good chemicals from all the orgasms." He rubs his hand over my back and kisses my shoulder. "Give me a few minutes and we can try some other positions."

"You're awfully cocky," I grumble.

Maybe he's right. I'm still riding a wave of euphoria that's only making me think this has turned into something else. It obviously doesn't mean anything more than that to him.

He said he missed me while he was away. I know I missed him something awful. My heart's breaking but I don't know what to say or what questions to ask.

He's opened up to me about his scars, his childhood. That means something, doesn't it?

Apparently not.

We're just sex. That's it. No one was supposed to catch feelings.

That's what we agreed to.

I don't think that's enough anymore.