Page 76 of The Rut in the Road

I moaned again, my cheeks flushing as I thought about the fact that he was jerking himself off as he sucked me.

About the fact that having me in his mouth had him so turned on that hehadto touch himself.

My hips bucked, and he let out another rumbled groan, the movement of his shoulder sharp and quick.

God. Thinking about him being that desperate mademedesperate, the muscles of my lower abs tightening as my balls pulled up tight. I whimpered, wanting so very badly to come, but also wanting to see how badly he wanted me. Wanting him to want me so much that he came into his own hand.

My hips bucked again, knees weak, and I let go of his hair with one hand to grip the edge of the counter. “Raj,” I whimpered again, struggling to hold out against the rising pressure.

The one hand still on my hip slid around to the back of my thigh, and he pulled me tighter to his mouth, his moaning growl electric, and my head dropped back, eyes closed, as the orgasm rushed through me, starting at the back of my throat and rolling through me from head to toes as I came into his mouth.

The sound he made as his mouth and throat moved around me was a snarl, his shoulder jerking sharply two, three, four times as he let me slide from his mouth, pressing his forehead against my thigh.

I let myself lean against the counter, my legs trembling.”Raj?” I asked, softly, my voice as unsteady as my knees.

“Fuck,” he murmured, then kissed my still-khaki-clad thigh. He sat back on his heels, tilting his chin to look up at me.

I swallowed. His lips were wet and swollen, his completely messed-up hair—my fault—slightly damp with sweat, and his cheeks flushed dark. He was so unbelievably beautiful.

I pulled open a drawer and handed him a dish towel to clean his hand.

“You sure you don’t mind?” he asked me, staring at it.

I shrugged. “I will wash it,” I told him.

He took it, wiping off his hand. “I never thought otherwise,” he replied, then stood gracefully, his free hand barely needing to push off the floor. I watched him stand, wondering how he could be so steady on his feet when I felt like my bones had gone semi-liquid. “You okay?” he asked softly, gently cupping my jaw and stroking his thumb over my cheek, the stubble growing in rasping slightly against the pad.

I nodded.

He frowned, tilting my chin up slightly, studying my features. “You sure?” he asked.

I nodded again, but then answered him out loud. “I’m okay,” I assured him. “Just tired.”

He leaned forward and kissed my forehead. “That we can fix,” he said.

I fellasleep with Raj wrapped around me, his hot skin chasing away both the cold and the nightmares. I woke up when he did, although he was trying not to disturb me.

“Sorry,” he whispered, when I opened my eyes.

“You don’t need to be,” I replied, lifting my head to let him pull back the arm he’d had tucked under my pillow.

He smiled, pausing to trace his fingertips along the side of my face. “You need the rest,” he said softly.

I shrugged, then turned over my wrist to look at my watch. It was one of those fitness tracker things, which my psychiatrist had suggested would help me keep track of my sleeping patterns and heart rate. I mostly just used it as a watch.

It was almost eight, which meant that Raj had lingered longer than he usually did.

“You have to work today, too, right?” I asked him.

He let out a grunt, pushing himself up off the mattress, grimacing a little.

“Your back?” I asked him softly.

“It’s fine,” he answered.

I raised my eyebrows, very much doubting that ‘fine’ was an accurate description.

He smiled a little. “It’s stiff,” he admitted. “But not too bad.” He raised his arms over his head, the lean muscle of his shoulders bunching a little and the lines of his abs becoming more defined as he stretched. I didn’t bother pretending I wasn’t looking. I felt like we were well past that.