Page 153 of First in Line

I’m so screwed. There’s no way I can return to Colorado after all this. No way I can live away from him.

When I hear the French doors open behind me, I turn away from the view and face the house. My heart beats faster at the sight of him, still soaked from his daily cold bath, his navy swim shorts sticking to him.

“How was training?” I ask, swimming then walking toward him, to the shallower side of the pool.

“Good. Intense.” He’s shaking a little, his dark nipples pebbled from the cold water.

I’m wearing the white swimsuit he likes, the one that gets just sheer enough to reveal what’s beneath, and his gaze appreciatively falls to my breasts when the water reaches below them.

He sits by the poolside in front of me, his legs in the warm water, but before he can let himself slip in, I stop him. “Wait.”

“What?”

I rest my hands on his muscular thighs, his skin cool to the touch, and drag them up, slipping under the wet fabric of his shorts. “I want to see it,” I playfully confess.

When he understands what I mean, he shakes his head.

“Why?” I whine with a pout.

“I just spent twenty minutes in cold-as-fuck water.”

“And?”

“And I have my pride, Evangeline. I’m not letting you see my shrunken dick.”

Still grazing his upper thighs, I inch closer and say, “If you let me see it, I’ll help it warm up.”

My offer intrigues him, and he considers it with an eyebrow cocked up. “How?”

“I’m sure we can find a place that’s hot and cozy. Maybe with a tongue, for some warming friction.”

It only takes him three more seconds to agree with a nod.

When I excitedly reach for the waistband of his shorts, he uses his powerful arms to lift himself up. I tug the garment all the way down his legs and let it float away in the water, focused on the object of my curiosity.

“Hey there, little guy,” I coo, coming between Jackson’s spread knees.

He stares down at me with an unamused expression, but I ignore him. It looks about half its usual resting size, and the heavy masses underneath are drawn up tight. It’s not necessarily small for a resting penis, but definitely smaller than what I’m used to with him.

“It looks adorable like this,” I tell Jax, knowing it’ll annoy him.

“Let’s see if you still find it adorable when it’s ramming down your throat.”

His hand comes to the back of my head and pulls me in, reminding me of my promise. With a grin, I take it into my mouth, keeping my hands on his bare thighs. It’s so easy when it’s this size. It fits my mouth without a struggle, and I can toy with it using my tongue, sliding it around as I hollow my cheeks and suck.

Jax lets out a mumbled curse, his hand on the back of my head keeping me close as he leans back slightly.

To my disappointment, it doesn’t remain shrunken very long. It expands fast between my lips, hardening, thickening. Before I’ve had time to really enjoy how easy it is, it becomes a mouthful. And soon after that, it’s more than I can take without some sacrifices for my comfort or breathing. That’s when I begin using my hands. One wraps around the thick base, the other cups the sacks below, fondling them.

With all the rapturous hours we’ve shared since our reunion, I’ve become reacquainted with this. So when I take him farther down, way past my tonsils, the gagging isn’t as bad anymore. In fact, my throat doesn’t even try to reject him, opening wide to welcome his girth.

“Fuck, Evie,” he moans as his fingers tangle in my hair. “Best fucking mouth I’ve ever had…”

The praise echoes through me, first in my chest, then lower, where a tingle has been growing. With a moan that gets muffled by his length, I press my knees together.

Eager to please him, to earn another compliment, I keep sucking him in and out of my mouth, his skin glistening with spit. One of his hands comes between us and fondles my breast. My lips are pursed against the trimmed base when he pinches a nipple, making me whimper around him.

While my gag reflex got better, my jaw still has some training to do. When it aches too much, I pull away completely, pumping him with my hand instead. His eyes are dark, ravenous with want and pleasure, traveling between my parted mouth, my teary eyes, and my heavy breasts below.