Chapter Text
He needed to go home.
It was late and he had no business being out at a bar like this at this time of night, but it was one of those evenings when he couldn’t get his mind to quiet.
When the memories and the voices were a little too loud for the coping mechanisms his therapist had taught him. That and he had the night off, so he didn’t even have the comfort of the Pitt to distract himself, no work to throw himself into or cases to concern himself with. No patients to talk to, or even business of Robby’s to insert himself into.
It wasn’t like he hadn’t tried, either. He texted Shen and Ellis but they both assured him that the ED didn’t need him and to enjoy his one night off, though the odds of that happening were slim and none and slim just left town.
No, tonight he had nothing but a glass of whiskey that tasted like poison and a crowd of people who looked like they didn’t even know what the goddamn Iraq War was surrounding him, their voices too loud and yet not loud enough to drown out his thoughts.
“Can I just do a shot of your well tequila?”
The voice to his right was sharp, cutting through the hum drum of the bar with ease like a knife through a block of softened butter. He turned his head in time to see a young blonde knock back the clear liquid in her shot glass, grimacing before she slid the cup back towards the bartender along with a credit card. “I’ll leave it open. And can I get a um…” Her voice trailed off, eyes flickering over the meager draft selections. “IC Light? Thanks.”
The bartender returned with her beer though she didn’t touch it, she simply rested her elbows on the bar and set her chin in her hands, looking like she was carrying the weight of the world on her couldn’t-have-been-older-than-thirty shoulders.
His therapist would have told him to leave her alone. Hell, Katherine would have told him to leave her alone. “You can’t fix everyone’s problems, Jack,” she would have said in that knowing way like she knew what he was thinking because she honestly always did, but he knocked back another sip of whiskey and opened his mouth before he could let ghosts and memories convince himself otherwise.
“Tough day?” he asked, dragging a finger around the rim of his glass.
She looked up at him then, surprise flickering across her face and shining in her soft brown eyes, but then she nodded, dropping her arms onto the counter. Both wrists were covered in gold bracelets, the metal clinking against the wood like a bunch of little wind chimes.
“Tough life,” she told him without a moment’s hesitation, and he wondered how bad her day must have been to confide in the first stranger who paid her any mind in a bar. Pretty damn bad, he had to imagine. “You don’t look like you’re doing too hot yourself there…”
“Jack,” he finished for her. “And you are?”
“Ryan.”
“Ryan,” he repeated back, and she nodded, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she did so. “Well then, Ryan, you wanna talk about what’s got you ordering tequila so bad it should only ever be used as emergency antiseptic?”
“At least I know my insides will be nice and clean,” she said, smiling a little though it flickered like a flame blowing in the wind, gone almost as soon as it had appeared. “Let’s just say, Pittsburgh is the last place I want to be right now.”
“Not here by choice, then?” he asked, and he glanced at the empty stool next to her own. She seemed to understand the silent ask and nodded once more, her eyes tracking him as he pushed his glass down the bar and settled into the open seat.
“No, I am. I just…” Her voice trailed off and she exhaled, finally reaching for her beer. She took a long drink, almost as if she needed the time to think over her words. When she did speak again, it was far from what he thought she was going to say.
“Do you ever wonder how different your life would be? Like if you did that thing you talked yourself out of doing when you were younger? Or if you dated that girl? Or if you just did literally anything differently at all?”
“When I was younger, definitely. Not so much anymore. But I understand completely.” How often had he thought about the day he lost his leg and how he wished he’d simply been anywhere else? How often had he thought about Katherine and her cancer diagnosis and what might have happened if he’d pushed her to go to the doctor sooner?
It was all that occupied his mind during the weeks and months after his amputation, after Katherine’s funeral—could he have changed it all somehow, some way?
But of course, he couldn’t. He was exactly where he needed to be, as much as he might have hated it in those early days.
Ryan nodded, running her fingers up and down the frosty glass, catching the condensation already dripping down the sides of it. “Being here doesn’t change anything, but…I don’t know. I needed to do it, even though I don’t think I’ll like what I learn by being here.”
Jack wanted to know more, if he was being honest. He wanted to know why Pittsburgh, what she was hoping to get out of coming here. But he didn’t press her, as badly as he wanted to. There was something about this girl he found fascinating. Maybe it was the simple fact that she was so willing to open up to a complete stranger and it seemed like everyone else in his life refused to do the same with him despite having known him for years.
He’d always liked people who were open. Honest. Unafraid of admitting that things were shit.
“And you, Jack? What’s got you feeling down, hm?” she asked, arching a blonde brow at him. His eyes couldn’t help but track the faintest scar running through that brow, a thin white line that stretched right through the arch. Barely noticeable, but it caught the light whenever she turned her head a certain way. He wanted to ask about that, too.
“Mind’s too busy,” he admitted after a beat, taking a small sip of his whiskey. It tasted just as bad as it did earlier, but the burn was satisfying. Familiar. “Usually pretty good at turning it off. Being able to just ignore it. But tonight’s been different for whatever reason.”
Ryan tilted her head at him, something twinkling in her soft eyes. “Mm. Well, I have been told I’m a wonderful distraction, so…”
“Have you now?” he asked, and he almost thought the way his heart skipped a beat was because of her, but it couldn’t have been. No, it was because he was thinking about…things. People. His past. It couldn’t have anything to do with the young girl sitting next to him, looking at him that way because girls like her didn’t look at men like him that way.
“Only ever by people I find interesting,” she said, and when her eyes flickered over his arms resting there on the edge of the bar, dragging over the veins and the muscles barely evident under the dim lights hanging above them, any thoughts that he’d been deluding himself flew out the window.
Jack Abbot wasn’t a man who was unaware of how he presented himself to the world and how the world saw him in turn. He had the occasional hookup. Hell, he even had a date or two when time allowed it, though said dates rarely actually ever went anywhere because his life wasn’t the most stable at times.
But Jack Abbot was used to people his own age looking at him, not girls like this, girls who still had an entire life to live. Girls who came to the bar and ordered well tequila and shitty beer and were very clearly trying to outrun something the very same way he’d tried to do twenty-some odd years ago. Five years ago.
“Hoping for a souvenir or something from your time here?” he asked, and she shrugged, taking another sip of her beer, and he watched the long, lean lines of her throat as she swallowed, her full, pink lips glistening.
He swore his dick twitched in his pants.
“Would that be such a bad thing?” She turned to face him fully and he watched the sleeve of her too-big shirt slip off off her shoulder, exposing tanned, freckled skin. He physically itched to reach out and trace the constellation the little dots formed, and he clenched his hand into a fist in his lap to keep from making any sudden movements. “It’s going to be a shitty visit. Maybe I want something nice to remember it by.”
His gaze flickered to the group of boys standing a few feet away, holding pool cues and leaning against a table that clearly was not in use but they were hogging anyways, probably so they could look cool. They had their eyes fixed on Ryan, and Jack didn’t blame them.
He nodded his head in their direction. “You sure you don’t want someone a little more in your…age range?”
Ryan didn’t even glance behind her. She kept her eyes on Jack and Jack alone, a faint smirk dancing over her lips. “I think I like what I have in front of me just fine.”
Jack bit back a smile, not wanting to look too eager even though it felt pretty damn good to have someone choose him. But when didn’t that shit feel good? He was human, sue him. “Well then. Who would I be to deny you your souvenir?” He waved the bartender over. “Can you move her tab over to mine and close us out? Thank you.”
The bartender returned with a little slip of paper and slid it across the bar to him. Jack jotted down a tip and signed the receipt before he stood, offering his hand to Ryan. “Ready?”
“Absolutely,” she said, taking the hand he offered as she hopped off of her barstool. “Let’s get the hell out of dodge.”
Jack laughed at that, holding onto her hand as they walked out of the bar together. He was vaguely aware of those boys staring him down, and he couldn’t deny the satisfaction he felt, though admittedly he felt a little bad for even letting himself feel that way. It wasn’t like Ryan was some sort of a prize to be won, or a trophy he was taking home with him. But still, there was a little pride in knowing that this girl saw him and wanted him.
“You’re thinking pretty hard over there,” Ryan said, lightly nudging him as they walked down the street towards his car, the summer air sticky against his skin.
Jack huffed out a laugh. “You always this perceptive?”
“Again, only when it comes to people I find interesting. You’re the most interesting thing I’ve found since landing in this stupid city,” Ryan told him as he opened the passenger side door for her, only letting go over her hand once she was comfortably inside.
“It’s not all bad,” Jack assured her, settling into the driver’s seat. “Where are you from, anyways? Somewhere glamorous, I’m assuming, if Pittsburgh is this miserable and awful,” he said, but he hoped she could hear the teasing tone in his words, hoped that she knew he didn’t take any real offense to what she said. And he didn’t. Her attitude towards the city he’d come to call home clearly had nothing to do with Pittsburgh itself and everything to do with the why behind why she was here.
“I was born in New Orleans, but I grew up in New York City.”
“Ah. The Concrete Jungle. Yeah, definitely a change of pace from the Steel City,” Jack hummed, pulling away from the bar. His place wasn’t far, but his leg was bugging him to the point that walking would have been a pain in the ass so he’d decided to make the short drive to save himself the torture. “That’s a big leap though. How’d you end up in New York?”
“This that and the other,” Ryan said, leaning her head back against the headrest as she turned to face him, her eyes dark and glowing golden with every street lamp they passed. He felt her eyes roam over him, trailing along the side of his face, down his throat, along his arms as surely as if her fingers were skimming over his skin. “Stepdad brought us out there.”
She didn’t elaborate, letting the words drop there. Just like back in the bar, Jack wanted to know more; he wanted to know about New York and her family and her life but he didn’t push her, just nodded and let the silence hang in the air as he fixed his attention on the entrance of his building’s garage fast approaching.
Jack reached into his pocket and withdrew his scan card to let himself in, finding his reserved spot with ease. He came around to the passenger side and opened the door for Ryan, helping her out, her hand warm and soft in his. “This isn’t the part where you murder me, is it?” she asked, glancing around at the industrial garage.
He chuckled and shook his head as he guided her towards the little lobby where the elevator resided. “I have the distinct feeling that you’d kick my ass. You look like you’d be surprisingly strong.”
“Mm. Smart man,” Ryan smirked as she stepped onto the elevator, leaning back against the mirrored wall.
He did the same on the opposite side after pressing the button for his floor, sliding his hands into the pockets of his cargo pants. And as the elevator began its ascent, he let his eyes roam over her, really, truly taking her in since laying eyes on her for the first time at the bar. Her legs were long and tan, and he couldn’t deny his eagerness to feel them wrapped around him. Her bracelets caught the light and his eyes drifted down to her nails, a little long and painted a deep maroon, and he wondered how they’d feel scraping down his back, or sinking into the muscles of his biceps…
The elevator stopped and he stepped out, holding the doors for Ryan, and led her down the hall to his place. As soon as he unlocked the door, she whistled, eyes immediately coming to rest on the large window on the opposite wall that overlooked the city and its skyline; not quite as impressive as New York, but still beautiful, he thought. From here, you could even see the hospital, the flashing lights of an ambulance driving towards the ED.
“Nice place,” Ryan hummed, dragging her fingers over the kitchen island as she walked by.
“Thank you,” Jack said, dropping his keys in the bowl he kept by the door.
He liked his apartment. Open concept. Updated appliances in the kitchen, marble countertops, two bedrooms, one he kept for himself and one he used for guests that never came. Okay, never was an exaggeration. He got the occasional visit from a niece or one of his sisters, but that was once a year if that.
His sisters thought it was silly of him to ditch the nice house he’d had in the suburbs, but keeping it didn’t feel right living there after Katherine died. It had felt far too big. Too lonely.
“Can I get you something to drink? Water? Wine? Whiskey?”
“Ah, my three favorite Ws,” Ryan teased, moving to settle on his sofa. “I’ll have whatever you’re having, Jack.”
Jack.
He liked the way she said his name, like it was something special. Something important. It had been a long time since someone said his name like that and he hated to admit how much he missed it. How much he missed feeling like he mattered.
How much he missed feeling wanted.
And then, of course, he chastised himself for letting this girl get into his head so easily. He’d take countless people to bed over the last few years, why did this have to be any different? It didn’t have to be a thing, as his therapist so often liked to remind him.
He poured them each a glass of red wine and made his way to the couch, easing himself down onto the comfortable cushions, offering her one of the drinks as he did so. “Here you go.”
“Thank you,” she said, wrapping her delicate fingers around the stem, and he couldn’t help but notice that her nail polish was the same color as the wine. She took a sip, soft pink lips colored red for a moment before she licked it away. “So, Jack, what is it that you do?”
“I’m a doctor. Emergency medicine.”
Something flashed in her eyes but it was gone as soon as it appeared. “Wow. Sounds heavy. What’s that like?”
“Never boring, that’s for sure. But you’re right, it is heavy. Or it can be, at times. Other times it’s…it’s amazing. Saving lives, fixing people—it’s not all bad, you know. There’s a lot of good that happens in there. You just have to be willing to look for it.”
Her expression softened significantly. Gone was the mask she’d been wearing since he met her, the too tough girl who needed to guard and protect herself from whatever had hurt her so badly it kept her on edge every second of every day. She smiled, her eyes crinkling a little at the corners, a faint dimple making its appearance in the divot in her right cheek. “That’s amazing.”
“And you? What do you do?”
“Right now? Nothing. I mean, nothing as important as saving lives and putting people back together.” She set her glass on the coffee table and placed her elbow on the back of the couch, resting her head in her hand as she turned to face him, her dark eyes gleaming. “So…”
“So,” Jack echoed, mirroring her actions. “You don’t like talking about yourself, do you?”
“Not really, no.” She reached out with her free hand, circling his knee with her index finger, her eyes cast downward “But most people don’t, to be fair. I mean, narcissists aside but they’re a special case. The average population, I think, doesn’t enjoy answering questions about themselves. Their lives. Who they are.”
Jack placed his hand atop hers, stilling her. “Maybe not. But I’d still like to know a little bit about you.”
“Most women in their twenties aren’t very interesting. We haven’t lived long enough to be interesting,” she said, and he gave a slow nod.
It was a surprisingly self-aware statement for someone as young as she was. Then again, he didn’t know how young she actually was. Twenty-five at the youngest, if he had to guess. Half his age.
He didn’t quite know how he was meant to feel about that, so he didn’t let himself linger on it for very long.
“You might think that’s true, but I also know that you are interesting, because I don’t just bring home anyone,” he assured her, smoothing his thumb over the back of her hand, and he almost swore he saw her cheeks go a little pink. “It doesn’t have to be anything big. Not why you’re here in Pittsburgh, or why you moved to New York, or even what you do for work. Just…something.”
Ryan smiled a little. “Okay. Okay, that’s fair.” She bit her bottom lip, rolling it between her teeth until the skin was flushed red. “I’m an artist. Not for work, but in my free time. I enjoy painting more than anything, but honestly sketching, pottery, charcoal—I like it all. I think I just like working with my hands, if I’m being honest. Making something out of nothing, even if it’s not that good most of the time.”
“I have the distinct feeling you’re underselling yourself right now,” Jack said, and this time her blush was far more distinct, though he almost missed it as she ducked her head, turning away from him to reach for her wine.
“I’m really not,” she mumbled around the rim of the glass, taking a bit of a longer sip. She settled back into the couch once more and her shirt sleeve slipped off her shoulder again, his eyes tracking the falling fabric the way they had back at the bar, unable to help himself. She caught his gaze and looked at him for a moment before her fingers drifted to the hem of her top, toying with it, a smirk curving her lips.
“You know, Jack, I think we’ve done quite a bit of talking…”
“Have we now?” he asked with a laugh, but the sound was breathless, his heart beating a little faster in his chest.
“And I don’t think you brought me here just to talk, did you?”
He shook his head and reached out, tucking a long strand of blonde hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering there against her jaw. “No, no I didn’t bring you here to talk, Ryan.” His hand moved, fingers lightly grasping her chin, his thumb smoothing over her full bottom lip. “Can I kiss you?”
“I think I’ll be really upset if you don’t,” she told him, and he grinned before leaning in and pressing his lips to hers.
He kept it soft at first. Gentle. Just a simple brush of lips and nothing more. But then her mouth parted, a little gasp escaping her as if she almost couldn’t believe they were kissing, and he pulled her in even closer, his tongue brushing over her bottom lip. She tasted like the red wine they drank and something else, a little spicy. The tequila, maybe? Or maybe it was something entirely her.
Whatever it was, he was desperate for more of it. More of her. He slid his hand from her chin to hold the back of her head, tangling his fingers in her silky hair. Kissing Ryan felt like coming up for air after being underwater for too long, that feeling when your lungs finally get the relief they’ve been seeking. It reminded him of those first sips of water after being in the desert all day long, when the sun was scorching and his uniform was heavy and the heat was unbearable.
Jack pulled away for a moment, leaning his forehead against her own. “Do you want to keep going?” he asked, and the words were barely out of his mouth before Ryan nodded.
“Yes. Yes, absolutely.”
“We don’t have to go any further than this. You know that, right?”
“I know,” she said, resting her hands on his chest. “But I want to.”
Jack nodded and slowly stood, offering her his hand. Ryan didn’t question him, she simply took his outstretched hand and allowed him to pull her to her feet and guide her to his bedroom. He’d left the curtains drawn when he left for the bar, the floor to ceiling windows, similar to the ones out in the living room, leaving the skyline on full display. Ryan wandered over to them, peering out at the city spread out before them.
She turned to face him after a moment, and there was something almost angelic about her, lit up by the city lights and the full moon; it made her hair look silver in the light. He took a step towards her, gently toying with the ends of her long locks. “You’re beautiful, Ryan.”
“You’re just saying that to get me into bed,” she said, grinning a little, but the smile melted right off of her face when he lightly grasped the hem of her shirt, his fingers brushing the soft, toned skin of her stomach. “It’s working, in case you were wondering.”
Jack smiled and started tugging her shirt off, his mouth going dry when he saw that she wasn’t wearing anything underneath it, this girl standing there in nothing but her cutoff shorts and little sneakers, gold bracelets on her wrists. He swallowed hard, letting his eyes roam over her for a moment before he met her gaze, finding her smirking at him.
“See something you like?”
“I see a lot that I like,” Jack told her, gently cupping her face in his hands. “Mostly just the girl under it all.”
Something flickered in Ryan’s eyes and she laid her hands over his own before she began walking them back towards the bed. Once his knees hit the edge, he sat down, waiting for her to do the same. But she didn’t. Instead, she kicked her shoes off, her socks following close behind. Delicate fingers went to the buttons on her jean shorts, deftly undoing them before she shimmied them down her long legs, and then she stood there in nothing but a pair of silky black panties cut high on her legs.
“Shit,” he whispered, and she raked her eyes over him.
“Am I going to be the only one getting undressed, or…?”
Jack took a breath, hating the nerves that knotted his stomach. He lost his leg years ago—it was something he’d long since dealt with. But when it came to sleeping with people, it never got any easier having to explain himself or explain why he had a prosthetic or whatever other countless questions they had.
Still, he nodded and tugged his shirt off, tossing it aside before he got to work on his pants. He undid the button and dragged the zipper down, lifting his hips off of the bed so he could begin pulling them off. Once they were to his knees, he paused, anxiety blossoming in his chest.
“Everything okay?” Ryan asked, having moved to settle herself on the bed next to him, and he nodded.
“Yeah. Fine. I just…” He exhaled. “Look, it won’t bother me if this changes anything for you.” It was a lie, of course; it always stung when people were bothered by his lack of limb, but he’d never admit it out loud because he hated making people think he was trying to guilt trip them when that was the last thing he wanted.
Ryan arched a brow. “Care to elaborate?”
He slipped his pants off the rest of the way, the fabric gathering into a pile on the floor. It was quiet for a moment and he let her take in his prosthetic before he slipped it off and set it aside, rubbing his aching limb. He kept his gaze down, almost afraid to look up at her. The silence certainly didn’t help, that was for damn sure.
But then he felt her fingers beneath his chin, gently forcing him to face her. “Did you truly think that was going to bother me?” she asked, her brow furrowed.
“You wouldn’t be the first,” he admitted, and Ryan smiled a little.
“Jack, I don’t care. Nothing’s changed. It doesn’t make you any less sexy. Any less kind. Any less strong or funny or caring.” She straddled him and took his face in both of her hands, forcing him to well and truly look at her. “I want you.”
Jack didn’t hesitate.
He flipped them so she was underneath him, her lithe body stretched out on his bed, all long legs and tan skin and toned limbs. “Then you’ll have me,” was all he said before crashing his lips against her own.
It was a desperate kiss, a clash of tongue and teeth. His finger skimmed her sides, finding her panties and gently dragging the silk down her legs until she was completely bare beneath him. He could feel her squirming under him, his cock hardening in his briefs with every motion, and he had to bite back his groan as he dragged a finger along her slit, feeling just how fucking soaked she already was.
“Jesus, Ryan,” he muttered, and she slid her fingers into his hair, tugging gently on his curls. “This fucking wet and I’ve barely even touched you.”
“Jack, please,” she whimpered, and he nodded.
“Scoot up to the headboard for me, baby girl,” he said, pressing another kiss to her lips before lightly smacking her thigh. The name slipped out of his mouth before he could give it a second thought, but it didn’t like she minded it any. In fact, judging by the blush spreading across her face, she liked it. She liked it a lot.
Ryan did as instructed, moving up the bed until her head was resting against the mountain of pillows he kept (sue him, he liked being cozy).
Jack settled himself between her legs, watching them fall open like a kid on fucking Christmas waiting for his present. She was so perfect, wet and glistening in the dim light. Her hair was neatly trimmed, soft blonde curls that tickled his nose as he leaned in and licked along her soaking cunt.
She tasted fucking incredible, heady and sweet and just so her. He teased her entrance and she gripped his hair once more, harder than before, practically holding on for dear life as he fucked her with his tongue.
“Holy shit, Jack,” she moaned, back arching off of the bed. “More. Please.”
And he obliged because of course he did, gripping her thighs and tossing them over his shoulders as he devoured her.
Ryan rocked her hips, unafraid to guide his head exactly where she needed him and he let her, unable to help but moan against her core as she tugged on his salt and pepper curls.
Jack Abbot loved pleasuring women.
Call him a performative male or whatever the kids were saying on TikTok these days, but he would gladly spend hours between his partner’s legs and enjoy it nearly as much as they were. And hell, not just women but men, too. Really, anyone he hooked up with, he liked making sure that they were taken care of, first and foremost.
He was sure if he brought it up with his therapist, they’d have to unpack why he liked giving other people so much attention rather than having other people pay attention to him, but that was a conversation for another day…
He could hear her moans getting higher pitched, could feel her thighs start to shake against the sides of his head, and he continued his assault, knowing her orgasm was fast approaching.
“You gonna come for me, Ryan?” Jack murmured, sucking on her clit. His fingers tightened on her hips, holding her firmly in place so she couldn’t squirm away from him the way she was trying to now. “Come all over my mouth, Princess. Please. Need it so goddamn bad. Need to feel it all over my face, baby. Just let go.”
She looked down at him then, those soft brown eyes meeting his, and it was as if it was all she needed to fall apart. Her hand flew up to cover her mouth, and he saw her teeth sink into the soft skin of her fist, the gesture doing very little to muffle her cries.
Jack could taste her release, warm and wet against his tongue, and he lapped up every damn bit of it like a fucking melting ice cream cone. He dragged his tongue over her until she was shoving him away, her breath coming out of her in shaky pants, her legs trembling.
“Holy shit,” she whispered, running her fingers through her tangled hair, her chest rising and falling rapidly as if she couldn’t get enough air in.
He dragged himself up the bed so he was laying alongside her, propping his head up on his elbow as he looked down at her. She was fucking stunning, all flushed cheeks and skin glistening with sweat, her hair sticking to her temples and the long, lean lines of her throat. He reached down, brushing a few strands away, his fingers lingering at her shoulder, tracing aimless circles on the freckled skin.
“Who knew you had that in you, Grandpa?” she teased, draping her hands over her stomach, peering up at him through soft lashes.
“Grandpa? Really?” He scoffed. “Oh, I’ll show you who’s Grandpa,” he said, grabbing her by the waist and rolling the both of them so she was pinned underneath him once more.
Her squeal of surprise filled the air as his hands encircled her wrists and held them above her head so she couldn’t move, though he’d let go in an instant if he even had an inkling that she wanted to get away. “I’d love to see your grandpa move like that, Princess.”
“I like that,” she said, tugging on her lower lip.
“Like what?” Jack asked, arching a brow at her.
“When you call me that.”
“What? Princess?” He smiled, leaning down and brushing his lips over the shell of her ear. “You like it when I call you Princess, Princess?”
She shivered as if the words were tantamount to another touch, her breath hitching, her back arching as if she were trying to press herself closer to him, her breasts soft against his chest. “Jack,” she whispered, her voice low, “will you please fuck me?”
His own breath caught in his throat at the words and he drew back slightly, meeting her gaze. “You’re sure?” he asked, and she nodded, nothing but certainty shining in her big brown eyes. He looked at her for a moment longer before he reached over to his nightstand, pulling a condom out of the pack he kept in there.
He honestly thought she’d crack a joke about him being prepared but she didn’t, scraping her nails down his stomach and sending a shiver down his spine as she reached for the waistband of his briefs. Her fingers were soft as they found it, carefully peeling his underwear down until his cock sprang free; he had to bite back his smirk at the sharp intake of breath she took.
Jack tore the foil packet with his teeth and rolled the rubber on, lining himself up at her entrance. His eyes found hers once more and she gave him a small nod and it was all the encouragement he needed before he sank inside.
“Christ,” he swore, dropping his face into the crook of her neck for a brief moment. “Oh Princess, you feel so fucking good.”
It was the understatement of the century, actually. She felt fucking incredible, so fucking tight and warm around him.
He could have spent all goddamn day here, his cock inside her and his face buried in her neck. She smelled soft and floral, like springtime, when the air wasn’t so heavy and the sun wasn’t so damn hot.
Her fingers gripped his shoulders, nails sinking into the skin, and he shuddered at the feeling as he carefully withdrew before thrusting deep once more, her little mewls and whines of pleasure in his ear enough to have him barreling towards the edge.
“Jack,” she moaned, the sound low and throaty. “God, don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”
He nodded, scraping his teeth over the column of her throat before licking along the same path. He could taste the sweat on her skin, sharp and salty, and his fucking mouth watered at the way it settled on his tongue.
“So goddamn perfect, Ryan. You are so. Fucking. Perfect,” he told her, punctuating each words with a thrust of his hips, fucking his cock harder and deeper into her.
Ryan slid her hand between their bodies, slender fingers no doubt finding her clit judging by the way she cried out. Her other hand moved to cup the back of his head, gripping his hair the way she had when he’d had his face between her legs, and when she tugged a little harshly as his cock brushed a particularly sensitive spot inside of her, he had to bite down on her shoulder to keep from crying out.
“Fuck!” she swore, hitching a leg around his waist and drawing him in even closer as he kissed over the skin he’d just marked up. “Oh fuck, Jack. Feels so fucking good,” she sobbed, and he kissed her then, swallowing her moans as his lips slanted against her own, all tongue and teeth as he rocked into her.
Jack could hear his heart pounding in his ears, could feel the muscles in his thighs starting to ache, and yet it was the best he’d felt in weeks. There was something about this girl that made him feel alive in some weird, bizarre way, like he’d been sleeping for far too long and she came and woke him up.
She shuddered beneath him, her fingernails grazing his scalp as she gripped the back of his head, and the second he felt her walls tighten around him, he came apart, groaning into her mouth as his release flooded him like a goddamn tsunami.
“Oh my god,” she whimpered, dragging her fingers away from her clit and clutching his bicep like a lifeline. “Holy shit.”
Jack didn’t say anything, he merely dropped his forehead down against hers as he struggled to catch his breath. His cock started to soften inside of her and he carefully pulled out, gently cupping her cheek in his hand as he did so. “Jesus, Ryan. Holy hell, Princess.”
A soft, dreamy sigh slipped past her lips as he withdrew and she turned her head into the pillow, a faint smile curving her lips. “Mm… That was fucking fantastic.”
Jack grinned and forced himself out of bed for just a moment to get rid of the condom before he joined her once more, stretching out next to her on the king-sized mattress. “Thank you for the glowing review. Care to put it in writing? I keep a pretty rigorous guest book…”
She laughed and sat up, raking her fingers through her hair. “Noted. I’ll be sure to leave five stars. Best lay of my life,” she said with a wink before she tossed her legs over the side of the bed as if she were about to stand.
“Whoah. Hey. Where do you think you’re going?” Jack asked, gently grabbing her wrist.
Ryan arched a brow at him over her shoulder. “What? You want me to spend the night?” she asked, something teasing in her voice and in her smile, but he didn’t miss the way her eyes flashed with genuine curiosity, as if she could scarcely believe he’d actually ask her to stay with him after taking her to bed.
“If you want to, then yes. Can’t promise I’ll do much sleeping since I normally work the night shift, but that means if you want to make an early escape, I can promise coffee and breakfast,” he said, releasing his hold on her, though his fingers lingered, resting lightly on her hand.
Ryan’s gaze dropped to where they touched, and he wondered what she was thinking. He wouldn’t blame her if she made a run for it, though he weirdly hoped she wouldn’t.
“You don’t snore, do you?” she finally asked, and Jack smiled.
“Nope. Not that anyone’s mentioned, at least.”
She nodded and laid back down on the bed, allowing him to pull the blankets over them both until they were practically buried amidst his comforter and the plethora of throw blankets he kept on hand. He wrapped an arm around her middle, pulling her into his chest as he rested his chin on the top of her head.
“Jack?” she whispered after a moment.
“Mhm?” he murmured back, lightly trailing his fingers up and down her arm.
“I’m really glad I met you tonight.”
The words struck him more than he’d care to admit. He didn’t know who the hell this girl was outside of the few hours they’d spent together tonight, but admittedly, he wanted to know more. Hell, he wanted to know everything.
“I’m glad I met you too, Ryan,” he said, pressing a kiss to her shoulder.
She fell asleep not long after, nestled in his arms. He spent the rest of the night listening to the soft sounds of her breathing, watching the city fall asleep just outside his window and wondering what the hell he was going to do when he had to let her go in the morning…