The Family Simon: Jack Part 19

Now, maybe Donovan was doing what her mama says she always did. Pulling an O'Hara (as in Scarlett), which basically meant putting off today for a chance at tomorrow. But she didn't care. Nope. Donovan had other things on her mind.

She moved so that she was on top of a Jack, smiling wickedly at the pleasure that erupted all over her. She slid her leg so that her soft folds were pressed against his hard thigh and slowly she gyrated her hips.

Nice. She pushed into him harder.

Very nice.

She was already wet. So wet. And licking her lips, breaths falling in small pants at the sensation of his hard skin against her moist center, she continued to move.

Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s were already swelling, the nipples taut and pebbled, as she slowly kissed his chest and ran her hands up his shoulders. The man was built like a G.o.d, and she smiled when she felt his c.o.c.k start to thicken against her.

Moving onto her knees Donovan stared down at Jack. She bent forward and her breath caught when her sensitive nipples sc.r.a.ped across his chest. She brushed thick hair off of his forehead and kissed him softly on the mouth before heading lower.

The ache between her own legs intensified as she made her way down his abdomen, and she whimpered-like a baby wanting more. His c.o.c.k wasn't fully erect yet-she glanced up half expecting to find his dark eyes on her-but he was still asleep.

"Not for long," she whispered.

Donovan tossed her long tangled hair over her shoulders and slid her hand along the base of his c.o.c.k. She stroked it, slowly, carefully, before teasing the head with her tongue. When he jerked and swore, she looked up at him with a smile.

"Good morning, Jack."

He opened his legs giving her all access, and she laughed. "Seems to be," he replied, a lazy grin on his face.

Donovan didn't wait. She bent down and took him into her mouth, her tongue sliding underneath the head. She put pressure there, with her fingers and her tongue and loved the way he s.h.i.+fted beneath her. The play of muscles in his thighs. The masculine scent. The velvety softness. The hard and straining c.o.c.k.

"Jesus Christ, Donnie. Keep that up and this will be over before it begins."

But his smile was still there and with his sleep heavy eyes, rumpled hair, he was so d.a.m.n s.e.xy it made her ache. This easy place was the one she remembered. The one that had haunted her. It was as if the last five years had never happened, and they were just themselves.

"Do you like this?" she asked, flicking her tongue along his shaft.

"No."

"You're lying."

"I am."

"Do you want me to continue?"

"No."

She laughed, low and throaty. "You're lying."

Jack's eyebrow rose. "I might be."

Donovan took him back into her mouth and suckled him, first gently and then with firm strokes. Her tongue and her fingers were everywhere. Sucking. Stroking. Licking. She could tell he was close-felt it in her mouth and her hands-and when he yanked on her head she let him slide out of her mouth with a grin.

"You're a f.u.c.king jezebel," he said hoa.r.s.ely.

"I know."

Donovan crawled up his body and with her elbows leaning on either side of his head, claimed his mouth and kissed him with every ounce of pa.s.sion that she had. She loved everything about this man. Every. Single. Thing.

She always had, and it was d.a.m.n time she claimed him again. She wanted there to be no doubt at all. She wanted Jack to know that she was all in.

Donovan broke off their kiss and stared down at him. Chest heaving, her head fell back when he coaxed one of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s into his mouth.

"Don't stop," she managed to say. His hands roved her body, kneading her a.s.s and pulling her closer and closer. He blew across her damp nipple. Tugged on the end then claimed the other one. Every pull and tug shot straight through Donovan.

It was hot and intense, and she was so close to the edge that she knew she would fall.

Donovan slowly eased up onto her knees so that she straddled Jack. Her hands ran down his chest and then up her own thighs until they paused, just below her tattoo.

There was something to be said about the power of s.e.xuality. Right now, with Jack looking at her as if he wanted to eat every single inch of her body, well, that was empowering. That was real.

They were real.

Slowly she opened her legs.

He swore.

She smiled, her fingers dipping into her slick folds.

"You're killing me," he said, voice rough like sandpaper.

"Am I?" she teased.

"Donnie," he growled.

She slid over him and he swore again as her heat enveloped his c.o.c.k. She let him settle inside. He filled her. Every inch of him hard and straining.

Donovan reached for him. She cupped his face and kissed him urgently as she began to ride him. Slow and steady. His hands were on her hips and their eyes connected as she sat back and let their bodies take over.

All she heard was her fast beating heart. The squeak of the bedsprings as their tempo increased. All she saw was Jack. His broad shoulders. Straining biceps. The way his eyes darkened. They smoldered like black coal and-her heart skipped a beat-and they shone with love.

She knew that look. She'd dreamt of that look.

Donovan's heart swelled and, G.o.ddammit, were those tears poking the corner of her eyes again? How the h.e.l.l could she be crying when she felt to incredibly fulfilled?

"I love you Jack," she said fiercely. "So much."

She felt the pull inside, that coil unfurling hot and sweet and sharp as they raced toward o.r.g.a.s.m. Jack strained beneath her, sweat glistening on his forehead, his curls damp once more.

They were one. Connected in a way meant only for the two of them.

When she came, she came hard, her muscles contracting tightly, her body awash in fire and pleasure. Jack came seconds later, and as she continued to ride him, to take whatever he had left, she collapsed against his chest and bit her lip because it was that beautiful.

For a long time, the two of them strained against each other. It was as if they were afraid to lose their connection. To lose something that they'd just found.

"Hey," Jack said quietly. "Are you okay?"

Donovan nodded. She couldn't speak. There was no way to articulate what was going on inside her.

"I need to see your face."

She exhaled shakily and tilted her head, but it wasn't enough for Jack. He sank one hand into her hair while the other wiped away her tears. He was silent for a few moments, and G.o.d help her, but she was going to cry again.

What the h.e.l.l was wrong with her?

"I've never stopped loving you, Donnie. Even when I'd convinced myself that it was over I knew. Deep down I knew there was only you. Some things in life are absolute. Living. Dying. Breathing. My love for you is absolute. My need to be with you is absolute."

He kissed her nose and rested his forehead against hers.

"Yesterday when you were missing, I lost it."

"Jack," she whispered.

"I f.u.c.king lost it," he continued. "If anything had happened to you, I'm not sure what I would have done. All I could think about was my life without you, and it was pretty f.u.c.king dark. I'm telling you right now that there is no more Jack or Donovan. There's only us."

That was it. She was done for. Donovan gasped and began to cry like a baby. Jack must have thought she was crazy, but he said nothing. He did what he'd always done. He gave her what she needed. He held her. Stroked her hair and murmured words of love and desire and need.

The sun continued to rise and under the warmth of that ethereal light, they both fell asleep again.

Chapter Twenty-three.

Jack woke up feeling way too d.a.m.n good. Maybe he should be nervous about that fact. It had been a long time since he'd woken feeling so content. But h.e.l.l, he decided he was gonna roll with it. No reason to stress. He stretched and laid in the tangle of bed sheets, savoring the feeling for as long as he could.

He could still smell Donovan and wondered where she was. Shower maybe?

Someone had drawn the blinds, had to be Donovan, and he had no idea what time it was. Did it matter? Did anything matter other than the fact that he and Donovan had somehow managed to get something right? After all this time, it seemed they were finally on the right track.

Coco jumped onto the bed, and Jack stroked his head absently for a few seconds before rolling over. He slid out of bed and grabbed his boxers, slipping them on before heading out to find Donovan.

He was halfway across his bedroom when he heard a guitar, and with a grin, he made his way downstairs.

Where was she?

On bare feet he padded across the great room and followed the sound of music to the sun room out back, Coco on his heels. Jack scooped up the little guy and leaned against the doorframe, listening to her as her fingers flew over the fret board, pulling out a melody as pretty as the sunrise.

When she started to sing, he froze. Jesus. He'd forgotten how good she was. Her voice was like smoke and whiskey, full bodied and fluid. Her range was impressive, her pitch spot on, and the edge that made her stand out from the crowd, that little bit of rasp that was all hers, was better than ever.

She could soar to the eagles and fall in an instant, her voice incredibly intimate, raw and real.

And then there was her guitar picking. The girl wasn't just good, she could play with the best of them. He'd seen her perform at the Opry several times with the greats, and she'd left the stage with a bunch of dropped jaws in her wake and a crowd gone crazy.

She was the real deal, and d.a.m.n, but Jack's heart swelled as he watched her. When she glanced up, her fingers froze and silence fell between them. Her hair was a tumbled mess. Her eyes fresh and bright. That mouth of hers was bruised from their night of loving, and that body was barely covered by an old T-s.h.i.+rt of his.

"That's a good look on you," he said slowly, eyes sweeping over her in appreciation. "I like you in my clothes."

She set the guitar aside. "It's all I could find."

"I have no problem with that."

"Good," she said softly.

For a moment, silence slid between them. But it wasn't an awkward sort of thing. It was an easy silence. And like an old friend, it was one he welcomed.

"I fed him," Donovan said.

"Fed?" Jack started forward.

"The dog."

"Ah." He let Coco down and watched the little thing run over to Donovan. Coco was trembling and he licked her toes before hopping up beside her.

Somewhere in the house, a cellphone rang out.

"You gonna answer that?" she asked, eyes on him.

"No." Jack walked toward her. "I'm not going to answer that."

"Any particular reason?" A smile played around the corner of her mouth.

"I've got a few." He slid onto the sofa beside her and didn't blink when Coco barked in disgust. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her good and hard.

"Wanna share?" she asked breathlessly.

Jack pulled them back into the soft cus.h.i.+ons. "I'm not inclined to let the real world in yet. I just got you back, and call me a greedy b.a.s.t.a.r.d, but I sure as h.e.l.l don't want to share you with anyone."

She had nothing for him but that was fine. Jack was content to hold her, to listen to her breathe. To feel the warmth of her and inhale the scent of her. He was content to let things be for now, because he had a feeling they were in for a b.u.mpy ride.

Things weren't going to be easy. Aside from the media circus that would descend, there were still issues between them that had to be worked out. But there was time for all of that.

"I called my mom today."

Jack's eyes opened. "And?"

She sighed. "She gave me an earful for running off to Canada without telling her, and then she hung up."

Jack's mouth tightened. He could never pretend to understand their relations.h.i.+p, because from what he'd seen, it wasn't exactly healthy. Jayleigh loved her daughter, but loving and knowing how to show love were two entirely different things. Jayleigh wasn't going to win any mother of the year awards, and it was probably a smart thing for Donovan to distance her mother from Donovan's business dealings.