Stepbrother Wow! (Bad Boy Frat #1) by Claire Adams Read Free Book Online Page B

it was pleasure or pain I was feeling. A few moments after I
started to come I felt Jaxon’s body tensing against me, heard his long, low
moan, and then his cock was twitching inside of me. I felt the first
sticky-slick slap of his come shooting into me, hot and gushing. We struggled
to maintain it—I rode him through my climax, tightening around him, like my body wanted nothing more than to trap him there
forever, and Jaxon held himself up, thrusting into me hard and fast, moaning
again and again. But after a few moments—minutes or hours, it was impossible
for me to say which—Jaxon sagged against me, his weight pressing me against the
couch.
    For a while we lay like that, mostly naked,
absolutely satisfied, and I closed my eyes, happy to just drift. I had not
thought in a million years that the night would end up that way, but I would be
an idiot to have any problem with the fact that it had. I drifted in a golden
haze, not really hearing anything around me, zinging pleasure lighting up my
nervous system in aftershocks of pleasure.
    I heard cheering on the TV and finally stirred,
coming out of my nearly-catatonic state to look over at the game we had totally
forgotten about. The Ravens had managed to score some points while Jaxon and I
had been busy with each other, and I laughed; the clock was running down. If
they could maintain their lead, it would go to them, and the Patriots were
looking tired, from what I could see on the screen. After a moment I realized
that Jaxon was watching too, though his relaxed body pressed to mine told me
that he wasn’t paying a huge amount of attention to the game.
    It occurred to me all at once that I had no idea of
how long we’d been at it and I prodded Jaxon in the shoulder, making him stir.
He picked himself up and looked down at me, his bright eyes clearing. “They’ve
been on that beer run for a while,” I said. I may be one of the guys—but that
would end really fast if they came in to see me mostly naked on the couch,
having clearly just finished screwing Jaxon. Jaxon’s
eyes widened and he nodded, lifting himself off of me
and looking around for his shirt. I was almost disappointed when he pulled his
pants up and tucked himself back in, zipping his fly and throwing his shirt
over his head. I looked around and found my bra, my tee shirt, scattered a few
inches away from each other on the floor next to the couch. I pulled up my
pants and dressed as quickly as I could, my heart pounding.
    In a matter of moments, we were both sitting on the
couch the same way we had been when everyone had left; a few minutes later,
just as I was starting to calm down, I heard the telltale shouts and jeering of
the guys returning from their beer run, coming into the front of the house. I
could still feel the sticky-slick feeling of Jaxon between my legs, the
lingering soreness deep down in my hips, and my cheeks burned for a moment;
would everyone know what we’d been up to ?
    Jaxon didn’t let on at all. He called out for
someone to bring him a beer and to bring one for me too, and when the rest of
the guys came into the room he was cool as a cucumber, commenting about the
game, saying his friend was not about to get out of the bet he’d made. It
was—to anyone looking—just like any other night in the frat house. He didn’t
say anything, and just like always we commented on the cheerleaders, discussed
plays, complained when things didn’t go the way they should. I was relieved;
Jaxon wasn’t going to make it weird by telling everyone he’d nailed me, or by
putting his arm around me in front of them . I’d fooled
around with guys in the past who were perfectly willing to treat me like a bud
right up until we had sex—and then suddenly they thought I wanted them to be
all romantic and sweet. Finally, I thought, a guy who wasn’t going to make
things more complicated than they really were by wanting me to be some
girly-girl all of a sudden. I left the frat house late at night,