Off Balance: Painted Bay #1 by Jay Hogan

Author:Jay Hogan [Hogan, Jay]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Southern Lights Publishing
Published: 2020-09-28T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Morgan

Judah snored like a rabbit. I’d been up on one elbow watching him sleep for about fifteen minutes, marvelling at the coordination required to twitch your nose, wrinkle your upper lip, and snuffle cutely without waking yourself.

It was charming as hell, but waking up with Judah in my arms had thrown me for a complete loop. A what-in-the-fuck-is-happening-to-my-life loop. A very similar loop to the one I’d found myself in after the epic fuck he’d given me the afternoon before, and the one following the sizzling blow jobs we’d exchanged in the shower after dinner, and even the loop after a round of lazy hand jobs we’d exchanged before falling asleep exhausted around midnight.

I hadn’t slept through the night since Sally died; that wakeful grief pattern had stuck like glue. But not last night. Not after Judah. I wasn’t sure I’d ever had sex like it in my life. Sally had been uninhibited and adventurous in bed, and we’d had an amazing sex life, bar rimming, which I was pretty sure she’d have regretted not trying had she realised what we were missing. But she also tired of the natural leader role she carried in everyday life and preferred me to take over in the bedroom.

Judah was an entirely different animal in bed.

His tongue in, on, or anywhere near my hole had pretty much shot to the top of my all-time favourite things to do short of having his cock in my arse. I shouldn’t have been surprised. Judah even breathed sex with a capital S, and I was pretty sure I could come from his slow sexy smile alone given the right circumstances.

He had this way of sliding inside my brain with just a look, and from there it was a hop skip and a jump to my dick. I’d always felt desired with Sally, but bottoming for Judah was something entirely new. It felt like he . . . craved me, like he needed to be inside me more than he needed to breathe. Add in a working sexual appendage that knew how to bring me to my knees and I was a total convert.

To hell with topping. No denying that shit was good, but compared to the stretch and burn of being filled, a dick dragging across my prostate, and an orgasm that blew me up from the inside and then swept like a mushroom cloud from the roots of my hair to the tips of my toes, and . . . well, just call me Nelly and be done with it. How had I not known this about myself?

I pulled a lock of hair free from the corner of his mouth and lightly brushed the backs of my fingers over his cheek. He snuffled and settled, the weak morning light through the crack in the curtains striping across his bare hips and all those layers of hard, lean muscle. I ached for the audiences that would never know his body moving in those fluid ways again.

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