Sidelined Read Free Page B

opens the packet, extracts it, and rolls it onto his gorgeous cock. I reach between us to guide him into me, but he stills my hand and drops onto the bed next to me.
    He pushes me onto my side, pulls my back against his body, and lifts my leg. I flatten my hand against the bed and inhale when he pushes against me. He rocks his hips once, and oh shit. Oh shit.
    He’s deep inside me, and he holds himself there, and he whispers, “Baby, fuck.”
    “Stop talking and do it,” I demand breathlessly.
    And he does.
    My words flip a switch, because his fingers tighten on my hair and my thigh and he rams his cock inside me. I drop my head back against his shoulder and curl my hand around his neck as he pounds into me relentlessly, hard and quick and deep. His lips kiss across my neck as my heavy gasps turn to moans and his turn to grunts. I close my eyes as the sensation overtakes me.
    And as the orgasm hits after whoever the fuck knows how long, Jack Carr proves he’s a man of his word, because a finger against my clit ignites a second.

W here the fuck is the coffee?
    I rifle through Macey’s cupboards in search of the coffee pods for the machine. Cupboard four and there’s no coffee. I’m not usually such a damn demon in the morning, but when a guy has a chick like that in a bed with him… Well, I’m taking advantage of that shit every time.
    I asked, and she answered. After two killer orgasms courtesy of my cock, she did a couple of tequila shots courtesy of the bottle and then tugged me onto the bed so she could suck my dick. I let her until I decided her pussy is marginally better than her mouth and hauled her on top of me to finish us both off.
    She did, and then she collapsed on top of me, my cock still inside her. I pulled the covers over us and rolled us to the side.
    Find me a guy who can get his balls fucked off his body and still drive thirty minutes to get home and I’ll give him my balls.
    “What the…” Macey stumbles out of her room, rubbing her eyes. “What the hell are you doin’ here?”
    “You got a coffee machine and no coffee,” I reply.
    “Fuckin’ Einstein,” she growls then focuses on me. “What are you doing here, Jack?”
    “Looking for coffee, baby.”
    “I don’t have any. Only instant.”
    “You have a coffee machine and instant coffee?”
    “Excuse me for not being an overpaid, football-playing prick,” she snaps and walks toward me. She picks upa small plastic beaker from the windowsill and grabs a hairband. “Not all of us can afford the rip-off prices of what-the-hell-ever brand that asshole machine is.”
    I stare at her—dark, mussed curls in a twist on top of her head, cotton panties hugging her hips, and a tank top stretched over her braless breasts. And the frown on her face. Fuck, yeah. This bitch needs coffee.
    “Hold that thought.” I turn to the door and pull my keys out.
    “Where are you going?”
    “To get you some real coffee, because, baby”—I look at her from the doorway—“you drink instant and you may as well drink your own piss. Now, be a babe and cook some bacon or something.”
    “I don’t have bacon.”
    “Then get ready to, because I’m bringing that back, too.”
    She yells, but I shut the door behind me and head down to my car.
     

     
    Macey glares at me even as she fries the bacon. It sizzles in the pan, and I bring my coffee mug to my lips and sip. Thank God for real coffee.
    “You still haven’t told me what you’re still doing here.”
    “I’m drinking coffee and waiting for a bacon sandwich.”
    Macey drops three pieces onto a slice of bread, slaps another slice on top of it, and shoves the plate at me. “There. I can even get you a sandwich bag so you can have it to-go.”
    “Got any ketchup?” I grin at her scowl, knowing she does because I found it on my coffee hunt earlier.
    She holds out the bottle. “Grab it or I squirt it.”
    I laugh and take it. Squirting some inside the sandwich, I glance up.