With Abandon: With or Without, Book 4

um, hygiene factor—although supposedly dogs’ mouths are cleaner than humans—it was so personal
    having someone push his tongue into your mouth. Hard to think of other things when a guy’s checking out your back molars.
    J.X., however, French kissed me with delicacy and skill, and need bloomed like fever in my
    bloodstream.
    “I do want it,” I panted. “I want you to fuck me.”
    He groaned like I’d granted some amazing, impossible wish—which, frankly, was all the more
    exciting.
    He kissed me again, broke the kiss with seeming reluctance. “Hang on. We need something…”
    “Condoms. Hell. It’s been years since I’ve had to—”
    “No, not condoms. I mean, yes, condoms, but I’ve got condoms. I mean something we can use as
    lube.”
    I was still dealing with the fact that he evidently carried condoms everywhere like he was still
    nineteen, when the significance of the word lube hit me. I gave a shiver that was half excitement and half alarm.
    Jesus, we were going to do this. I was going to let him push that long, thick cock right up my tight
    little asshole.
    Wide-eyed, I watched him disappear into the bathroom and reappear a few seconds later with a bottle
    of Fekkai glossing conditioner.
    I was still clumsily trying to peel off my clothes as he took his place beside me on the bed. Together
    we helped each other undress, warm hands lingering in unconscious caress, accommodating each other. My
    heart was going a million miles an hour as I leaned back against the pillows he’d propped up for me. I
    watched his face, so grave and absorbed as he squirted the pale, shimmering liquid onto his fingers.

    The scent of sex mingled with that of sunflower and olive oil and citrus. Very California. Very us.
    He leaned forward to kiss me again. As our mouths brushed, a thought occurred to me. “Not on this
    bedspread!”
    He laughed against me, drew back. We did some frantic shoving and rearranging of bed linens.
    “Anything else?” His eyes were crinkling at the corners, and the knowledge that he would deal
    patiently with any further minor uproars went a long way to relaxing me. What was the big deal after all? It wasn’t like I’d never done this.
    “Be my guest,” I said.
    He grinned, reached forward to stroke me, cupping my balls lightly in his hand. “And what a
    wonderful host you are.”
    I spluttered a laugh, let my legs fall wide, making a cradle for him as he lowered his lean, muscular
    length onto me.
    “Am I hurting your arm?”
    “It’s not my arm I’m worried about.”
    I said it without thinking. His face was instantly serious. “We’re not going to do anything you don’t
    want to.”
    “I know. Don’t listen to me.”
    He appeared to consider this. “Sometimes I think the words get in the way with you and me, but I
    always listen to you. I always will.”
    I nodded. “You’re better at this than I am. I’m trying to learn by example.”
    He looked touched. “That’s one of the nicest things you’ve said to me.”
    “I need to say more nice things to you.”
    I proceeded to turn over a new leaf. That led to some nuzzling and nibbling and other forms of
    unspoken communication. As J.X.’s clever fingers tweaked one of my nipples, I arched up. He watched
    me, his eyes dark and hooded, his mouth pink from kisses and love bites.
    I knew what was next and I consciously relaxed my muscles as I felt his warm hand spreading the
    silky lotion in the cleft of my ass.
    This was it. I shifted, allowing him better access, trying not to tense as J.X. pushed his finger through the tight band of muscle. It was invasive, certainly, but it was electrifying too. I bit my lip, trying not to make any sound that might be mistaken for pain. It was a bit uncomfortable, but the wicked pleasure of J.X.
    touching me there melted any resistance I might have had.