“Show me that heaven’s right here, baby
Touch me so I know I’m not crazy
Never have I ever met somebody like you
Used to be afraid of love and what it might do
But goddamn, you got me in love again…”
– Dua Lipa
………………………………………
‘God, I could kiss every single inch of you, Agent Whiskey.’ I think to myself as he passes by my desk for the third time in the past half-hour. I’m trying to look busy, trying to focus on decoding the latest message sent from our Kingsman partners. But he’s making it nearly impossible, because every time he passes by, I catch the faintest scent radiating off his body. A mix of sandalwood, citrus, Statesman Bourbon, cigarettes, and a million bad decisions that should utterly put me off, but only fuels my desire to push Jack Daniels, Agent Whiskey, into the nearest closet and devour every single inch of this man.
“You just about done with that message, sugar?” Jack asks with the sluttiest Texas drawl that I’ve ever heard. The kind of voice that makes the womenfolk go weak in the knees and give into the aforementioned bad decisions with the faintest of suggestions and no regrets until they’re doing the walk of shame the next morning.
“Hold your horses, Jack. Perfection takes time.” I quip in return as he stops pacing and I feel his hand grip the back of my desk chair, his breath on the back of my neck as he leans in to watch me work. And I try not to visibly clench at his proximity.
“Don’t I know it, babygirl.” He murmurs next to my ear and I can’t help the involuntary reflex that closes my eyes and the quiet sigh that escapes my lips as the warmth of his breath hits my skin and the ghost of his lips at the shell of my ear.
I try to play it off.
“I’m never going to get this done if you don’t stop bothering me.” I lie, utterly. Because it’s these minute transactional exchanges with Agent Whiskey that fuel my entire existence and keep me working as the lead encryption agent here at Statesman.
“You know.” Jack begins, testing my resolve. “I think you more than kinda like it when I have to come down here and chase you down for my messages.”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“Well, if you’d learn how to use the program I built for you all, you wouldn’t have to come and ‘chase me down’ to get your messages decrypted.” I point out. My heart though, is holding out hope that maybe, just maybe he’s here for more than the messages.
Don’t be so childish. Jack has women stashed all over the world. And more falling at his feet every single day to get themselves a piece of that man. And you know that he absolutely obliges them. My subconscious chides. Of course. There’s absolutely no way that Jack would have any kind of interest in me – the nerdy tech girl. Not like that, anyway. No matter how much I might hope for his attention like that. I’ve seen the kind of women he associates with, and I do not fit that bill, in any way, shape, or form.
But a girl can dream, can’t she? Even if it’s completely unrequited. Even if it will always be unrequited. Even if I have to spend the rest of my existence expressing my crush on this man purely in my mind and the privacy of my locked bedroom door.
“Maybe I like comin’ and chasin’ you down for my messages.”
Wait. Did I hear that right? My hearing has gone all fuzzy and I feel dizzy thanks to Jack’s words and his closeness to my body. I internally shake the fuzziness from my brain and glance over at his ridiculously handsome face that is almost too close for my well being.
“Wh…what?” I stammer, nearly choking on my own saliva. I need to hear this again, just to make sure I haven’t been sucked into some twisted daydream.
‘I said I like comin’ down here and chasin’ you for my messages.” Jack repeats, winking. And it takes everything in my power to try not to visibly melt in his presence like the ultimate stupid fangirl. Though he’s such a cocky fucker he’d probably love it if I did.
“Oh.” I breathe shallowly. “Thank you?”
“You’re a strange girl…but I like it.” He laughs. “That brain of yours…I never quite know what you’re gonna say next. You sure do keep me guessin’. And you’re mysterious. You never let any of us in. You never come out with us for after work drinks. We’ve been workin’ together for five years as of last week, and I don’t even know when your birthday is.”
My head is spinning, because I think that this may be the most this man has ever talked to me in one sitting. And he remembers that I started working here five years ago last week? What is even happening here right now?
“It’s in November. The twenty-first. My birthday” I confess.
“Well, shit.” Jack drawls with a lethal smirk and I feel a warm rush in the deepest part of my belly. “Scorpio girl. Shoulda known. Well, that explains the massive brain mysteriousness.”
The message finishes its decryption and I reach over to pull the translation off the printer perched on the edge of my desk, handing it to Jack with a small shrug and an awkward smile.
Three days later, Jack is back at my desk and my insides have completely liquefied with him all dressed to go out on some reconnaissance mission with Agent Tequila. Dark wash denim wrapping around his legs, hugging him in all the right places and I can’t stop staring where I absolutely shouldn’t. A pristine white half-tucked tee shirt that, in this light, is nearly see-through. As I carefully peruse up his lean frame, I can make out the chiseled abs and perfect pecs that I would sell my soul to run my fingers over. His strong biceps peek out from the short sleeves and I’m surprised that I haven’t just completely melted on the spot. By the time my eyes reach his, I must be blushing from head to toe, because the look he’s giving me is utterly lethal and I know that I am caught.
“You keep starin’ at me like that Sugar, and I might just have to drag you off somewhere private where I can take all of these clothes off so you can just look your fill.”
“Jack…” I whisper, terrified of what else I might say if I don’t close my mouth right now. Because this honestly sounds like the best idea this man has ever had.
“But here’s the thing, sweet thing. I gotta go do this meeting with Tequila. And I think that you’re the kind of girl that I’m gonna wanna take my time with.” He explains, brushing my side part behind my ear, making me visibly shiver.
“Oh my god.” I breathe, unable to move, because my insides have completely liquefied. And I’m just so gone that I’m sure he can absolutely smell the want pouring out of me and straight into the gusset of my lacy underpants.
Jack leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to my cheek and I reflexively melt into his soft lips and even softer moustache. And he definitely notices how needy I am for him because he lingers far longer than he should. But I don’t care even a little bit. I would happily let this man completely take me apart, put me back together and then do it all over again.
“I won’t be gone long. And when I get back you’re gonna let me take you out for dinner and dancin’. And we’re gonna get all sweaty then go be naughty and make out in a bathroom stall.”
Did I mention that Agent Whiskey is pure sin on two legs? Did I mention that I’d happily get on my knees for this man? Did I mention that in my deepest, darkest fantasies that I’m craving for him to call me his good girl? To use me over and over until I’m boneless and shaking from the cornucopia of orgasms he’s allowed me to have once he’s broken me?
Fuck. I am never going to survive this man.
“Okay.” I whisper, desperate to not show exactly how needy I am for this man. But he sees right through me. I can feel it.
“I’ll pick you up at eight. Wear somethin’ pretty.” He winks then vanishes out the door. Off to save the world again.
The first time we share a meal with each other is a revelation. Jack is far more than the swagger he puts on at work and I find myself falling even deeper into his vortex before we’ve even made it past the appetizers. That the swagger is a defense mechanism into a darker corner of his life that he doesn’t share with the world. He tells me about why he became a Statesman agent and the tale of loss that drove him to a lifetime of taking down the bad guys has me involuntarily reaching across the small table at the even smaller restaurant without recognizing that I’ve done it until I feel the warmth of his skin under my fingertips.
We skip the dancing this time, opting instead to take in the warm New York evening. He holds my hand as we stroll through the south end of Central Park and I feel completely protected being where I shouldn’t be at night, and oddly, desired. On our way back to his car, Jack tugs me to a stop and into his strong arms, holding me tightly to him and I feel all the tension melt away as my head rests against his chest and we rock silently under lamplight to the steady sound of a breeze through the leaves of the trees sheltering us from the city.
“You know sweetheart, I’ve been wantin’ to ask you out for so long. I think maybe even since the very first time I met you. I didn’t think you liked me.” He confesses and I consume his words more than I hear them through his solid chest. I feel them deep into my bones. And I nearly want to cry from his quiet confession.
“Really?” I ask, barely believing my ears. “Jack. I’ve…”
I can’t do it – make the confession in return. I’m just not as brave as he is in this charged moment. I’m too scared to hear his reaction to the fact that I’ve wanted to have this very moment with Jack Daniels since the first time I met him five years ago. I grip his shirt tightly in my hands and sigh and he seems to understand, even without me having to say a word.
“It’s okay babygirl.” He nuzzles the top of my head with his cheek and holds me even tighter to his warm body. “You don’t have to confess anythin’ tonight. I know. I see you.”
Eventually, we part and walk hand-in-hand back to the restaurant where his car is still under the supervision of the valet service. Jack is the very model of the classic gentleman as he opens the car door for me and checks to make sure I’m all tucked into the seat before pushing the door closed and sauntering over to the drivers’ side. We talk about my time at Statesman and what I think of the organization, before the topic turns to my quiet nature in the office. He asks me again why I never go out with the team for drinks after work. He tells me that he has secretly always wished that I was there. And reaches out a hand of his own when I explain that I prefer to observe and only speak when I have something that I really need to say. And that the team, while all very interesting and knowledgeable people, are also quite loud when they all get into a room together and I tend to find that this behavior, especially when coupled with alcohol, causes my anxiety to spike, alarmingly.
Jack, for his part, says that he figured that was why I stayed away. But he still wishes that I’d come along sometime, so he’d have someone he could huddle with in a dark, semi-quiet corner of the club they all go to. He kisses the back of my hand. As the car pulls up to my apartment building, he shuts the engine off before retrieving me from the passenger side of the car and walking me up to the lobby entrance. I fish my key fob out of my small handbag and open the security door.
I expect us to part ways here, but as I pull open the heavy glass and iron door, Jack follows me into the building. I stop and turn, looking at him questioningly.
“I just wanna make sure you make it all the way to your place, darlin’. Because I will never, ever let anyone get near you – hurt you while you’re with me.”
I think I may have just fallen in love with Jack Daniels, I swear. But instead of expressing this revelation, I tilt my head slightly and give him a small nod before I start to walk toward the elevator to my apartment. Jack’s hand finds the small of my back and the heat of his palm through the fabric of my dress, makes me warm all over. We remain in comfortable silence up to the third floor of my building. I get the door open to my apartment, but before I can step over the threshold, Jack stops me, turning me toward him and cradles my face in the palms of his hands before leaning in and pressing his lips to mine in a kiss so sweet, I swear there may be angels singing somewhere off in the distance.
And while I’d love to deepen this perfect kiss, I know that it would only ruin what I will freely admit was the best first date I’ve ever been on.
“Sweet dreams, Sugar.” Jack murmurs against my lips after we part before releasing me and sauntering back down the hallway to the elevator. I watch him from my doorway with a dreamy look on my face as the doors close behind him and it’s only then that I realize that I’d been holding my breath as my phone dings, signalling the arrival of a text message.
Don’t forget to lock your door. I’d hate for someone other than me to get into your place while you’re sleeping, sweet thing.
Yep. I’ve already fallen in love with this man.
I am so fucked.
Friday morning, and I’m so late getting to the office. Jack and I weren’t out particularly late or anything, but I couldn’t sleep. Even after bringing myself to climax while replaying our kiss, his intoxicating scent, and the way his eyes burrowed into my soul. I lay awake in my bed, wishing that I’d invited Jack in to spend the night. And I couldn’t stop thinking about how delicious he looked in those perfectly snug dark wash jeans.
I rush through the halls to my desk, a much-needed Starbucks in hand, and my first meeting of the day just minutes away. I’ll barely have time to get logged into my computer before the morning mission prioritization meeting with Champagne and Ginger starts. And while I’d rather just blow it off so I can spend the time daydreaming, I’m also secretly hoping that Jack will be there from his top-floor office, even if this is just a Zoom meeting. I need to see his face again, immediately.
I round the corner from the hallway into the encryption team’s office when I see them. The biggest bouquet of hot pink peonies I’ve ever seen in my life, taking up a third of my desk space. And as I boot up my Mac and take a sip of my morning latté, I see the card tucked into the flowers. Jack’s messy scrawl pressed in ink into the semi-gloss cardstock.
Thought that the perfect kiss with the perfect girl deserved the perfect flowers.
– J
I’m holding back tears, fighting all of my emotional instincts, as the meeting loads. And while I’m disappointed to see that Jack isn’t on yet this morning, I’m certain that he’s in the building. And so I’m content to wait it out before I can sneak away from my desk to go and find him to thank him for the flowers.
Turns out I don’t have to wait long, I nearly crash into him an hour later as I push out of my office and into the hallway. He’s got a thick, top-secret folder tucked under his arm. I reach out and grip at his bicep as I stop short of completely running him over.
“I was hoping I’d get to see you today.” He smirks before I can get a word out, voice going low. “I couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you last night. And this morning, if I’m bein’ honest.”
I blush and try not to melt right then and there.
“Me too.” I confess. “Thank you for the flowers. Peonies are my favorite.”
“I know.” Jack smiles. “You told me once when we were walkin’ to the distillery storage when we were down in Louisville.”
“How do you even remember that, Jack? That was like four years ago.” I marvel.
“I remember everything you’ve ever said to me.”
“No way.” I shake my head at him. Is he mad?
“Try me.” Jack says, in all seriousness. And I rack my brain for a moment to think of a factoid that we didn’t cover last night.
“Okay.” I begin. I think I’ve got the thing that he absolutely will not know. “What’s my favorite television show?”
“Please.” He smiles, sly like a fox. “This isn’t even a challenge. It’s ‘Narcos’. You think that that guy who plays Javier Peña is cute.”
Holy shit.
“How did you even know that?” I breathe, incredulous.
“I heard you talkin’ to Ginger about it once. You two were debating who was better lookin’, that Pedro Pascal or the guy who plays Murphy. You know, people tell me I look like him – Pedro.” Jack smirks, not missing a beat, and I can’t help the laugh that bubbles up in my chest as the dimple in his right cheek pops.
“You don’t look anything like Pedro Pascal.” I roll my eyes, teasingly. “Just because you both have a moustache.” What I don’t say, what I can’t say, is that I’m certain that Jack is even more handsome than Mr. Pascal. But I also know that I can’t seem to hide the abject want in my eyes as I look at his incredible face.
Jack senses it all though. If his knowing look is any indication. His eyes are warm, affectionate, almost derpy even, as he searches my face as if trying to decide on his next move. He must find whatever it is that he is looking for though, because the next thing I know, he’s reaching for the back of my head, threading his fingers through my hair and using his other hand to gently grip my throat. He applies just enough pressure to make my breathing sharpen and my knees weak and how does he know that this, this commanding presence of his, this control that he’s taking right now over every last one of my senses, I would give to him freely, over and over. Just like this. But I’ve underestimated him yet again, because he seems to know exactly what he’s doing to me. His blown-out pupils rake over my face as a sly smile envelops his, and he leans in to kiss my slightly parted lips, not even giving two shits that we’re standing in the middle of the hallway for anyone and everyone to see.
My hands reach up to try to grip his shirt, but it’s so tailored to his body that I can’t and so I settle for the lapels of his suit jacket instead. I fist the fabric in my hands as Jack deepens the kiss, his smooth tongue finding mine, which I give him freely as I press my body even closer to his. And his strong fingers press into my scalp, soothing the skin like a massage as the hand pressed to my throat squeezes ever so slightly with each thrust of his tongue. One particularly pleasurable squeeze pushes a moan from deep in my belly and into him and he sighs in response. And I can feel the confidence that he’s got me exactly where he wants me, radiating off of him in waves.
He breaks away after several long minutes, but doesn’t let me go, he just looks into my eyes and keeps our bodies pressed together.
“We’re going out again tonight, Sugar.” He says, leaving no room for argument. “Wear that slinky little black dress that you wore to Ginger’s birthday party last month, will ya?”
I nod, unable to form words, as Jack finally releases me and tells me that he’ll pick me up at eight before sauntering off to his next destination.
My hands shake and my fingers fumble as I try to apply eyeliner for the third time. Jack will be here soon and I don’t want to keep him waiting. I have no idea where he’s taking me, but I don’t even care so long as he takes me home with him tonight. I need to feel his mouth on my skin. I need to finally see him in all his glory after so many years of the fantasy of Jack Daniels that’s been built up in my overactive brain.
I finally finish getting ready just in time for my phone to ding, letting me know that Jack’s downstairs. I grab my bag and my keys off the kitchen counter, lock my front door and rush down the hall to the elevator, unable to hide the need I have to see him again as soon as possible.
Jack takes me to this great little Tapas place where we share small plates and he keeps me in enough sangria to get me pleasantly tipsy. But still sober enough to clock what he’s doing. How he’s making me feel as he offers me bites of Vieras, Serrano ham, Basque olives, and Manchego cheese. And while the food is delicious, there is this unspoken want that seems to be flowing between us like an electric current.
I watch him carefully as he sips at a bottle of beer. Watch his throat muscles work as the IPA flows past his lips and tongue. Pull my bottom lip between my teeth as he looks at me with those deep espresso eyes that are so dark, he looks like he’s in a perpetual state of lust.
After eating and drinking our fill, Jack pays the bill and escorts me out into the Manhattan night. He hails us a cab and gives the driver the name of some club downtown. Once we arrive, Jack pulls me through the doors and into the darkness, bypassing the bar to drag me immediately onto the dance floor.
The music is thumping away, the perfect rhythm as Jack pulls me close and we move in tandem to the bass line. My hands on his chest and I can feel his heart start to thump in time to the music and the sweat start to make his exposed skin glisten in the club’s lighting. His strong hands grip my hips, pulling me even tighter into him before his lips and teeth graze my jawline, making me shiver in spite of the heat of the club.
“Hot damn, sweetheart,” Jack breathes into my ear between nibbles of my skin. “You’re gonna let me take you home tonight, yeah?” And I’m so turned on that all I can do is nod in agreement and run my fingers over his skin, exposed thanks to his half-open shirt. My lips graze his strong jaw as Jack growls in pleasure and presses the pads of his fingers into my bare spine, thanks to the low-cut, criss-cross spaghetti straps of my cocktail dress.
Desire is pooling deep in my belly as we sway to the music and Jack’s hips pushing against mine, thrusting so smoothly, like fucking with our clothes on. And I can feel his excitement growing against my belly with each press of his hips into mine. His moustache tickles the side of my throat while his tongue runs along the tendon stretching from my collarbone to my ear. I push my fingers from the sides of his face into his sweat-soft hair in a vain attempt to find some kind of steadiness in the storm that he’s stirring inside me.
Jack growls into my ear as I grip his hair in my hands, pulling upward so I can kiss him again while the beat pushes us even further. Tongues dancing with each other with these tiny little gasps of pleasure that we exchange with one another like a long, unbroken tennis rally.
Eventually, Jack breaks the kiss, but only so he can turn me around and pull me back into his body and bury his face into my hair, inhaling deeply.
“Fuck, babygirl.” He sighs happily. “You always smell so good. Good enough to eat.” While my head lolls to rest on his shoulder and Jack resumes brushing his lips and tongue along the shell of my ear and to that little spot just behind it – along my hairline – that makes me visibly shiver.
I’m so lost in Jack Daniels that the other club-goers, the full dancefloor seems to melt away to the point where we’re the only two people left in the room. It’s why I raise no protest when one of Jack’s hands pushes into the front of my dress to cup a breast in his warm hand, while the other wraps around my throat, holding me just where he wants me so he can continue to grind his pelvis into my backside. I can feel his cock, hard, straining in his dark denim jeans press into my body with each thrust of his hips in time with the music. And holy hell, am I turned on.
“Jack,” I sigh as my nipples stiffen and my body becomes impossibly warmer thanks to his body against mine and his hands holding me against him. I allow my eyes to refocus for a moment, and see several people on the other side of the dancefloor, watching us with raised eyebrows and looks of lust on their faces. But I don’t even care. Not even a little bit. Which is entirely out of character for me. What is Jack doing to me? What is this open affection doing to me? His attention seems to be turning me into this wonton girl who will more than happily engage in public sex in order to do whatever it takes to please this man.
Jack, for his part, also notices the attention our antics have been garnering and gently pulls me to the side of the dancefloor, into a dark space to the side of the DJ booth where we can still be part of the action, but where the public scrutiny is slightly less available. Once in the shadows though, Jack ups the stakes, his lips assault the side of my throat, while his left hand continues to alternate between kneading each breast and teasing my nipples, bringing them to stiff peaks. But his right hand drifts from my neck down the front of my body, raking down my sternum, waist, and belly before landing on my thigh.
“Tell me it’s okay, sweet thing.” Jack purrs in my ear. “Tell me I can touch you.”
Fuck, yes. I think to myself. I don’t care who can see. Let them all see that I have the best looking man in the club with his hands all over me.
“Tell me, baby. Tell me to touch you.” He repeats.
“Fuck. Yes.” I breathe out on an exhale. “Please, Jack.”
Jack smiles against my cheek while his right hand eases the skirt of my dress up the side of my thigh, keeping the front of my dress covering my pussy, keeping me from being completely exposed to the entire club. Jack’s breath sharpens against my skin as his fingers skate along my hip bone and to the lacy top edge of my panties. My hands reach back, grab his hair in fistfuls, my nails gently scraping his scalp as his fingers tease my nipples and the skin just above my panties. My breath comes in shallow bursts as Jack presses his lips to my skin.
“I can smell the want on you, baby. And I’ll bet my entire life savings that when I touch you there, that I’ll be able to feel it too, won’t I?” I moan quietly as his fingers sink beneath the waistband. And I wait for his reaction as his touch glides over skin where soft curls should be, but he’s greeted by bare skin instead. I shiver against his body as he growls, pointedly. “Well, what do we have here? Fuck, this is the last thing I expected of you, hermosa. Here I thought you were so sweet, so innocent. But you’re secretly a very naughty girl, aren’t you?” Jack drawls against my ear and I shiver as his fingers pet the bare skin just above my clit, teasing, as I melt into him and his left hand raises up to wrap around my throat again. Spanning from ear to ear and all I can think about as he does this, is how badly I’d like to get a tattoo of his fingerprint behind my ear. Have him and this perfect moment permanently marked on my skin.
My jaw drops, a silent moan escaping from me as Jack’s fingers slide over my folds, slipping two fingers inside me while his thumb presses tight circles into my clit. My hands grip his hair tighter as he tells me how wet I am, but I barely hear him over the music and the buzzing in my ears as I float away from myself, already there and ready to come all over his hand in a shadowed corner of a packed nightclub.
“Please, Jack.” I sigh, so close I can taste the adrenaline of my orgasm on my tongue and feel the lit fuse racing down my spine when Jack pulls his thumb away from my clit and stills the fingers inside me. Just before my body implodes and I whimper in protest.
“Ssh, Sugar.” Jack says soothingly. “You’re so tense. Just relax and breathe. I’ve got you.”
“I…I need…” I cry against his body, stretched to the breaking point. Unable to complete my thought, I’m so lost in what he’s doing to me.
“I know.” Jack says, breath hot against my ear. “But think of how amazing it’s gonna feel when you finally let go.”
I come down, just a little and slump against Jack’s body. And as soon as he feels me let go just a little bit, his fingers start to move again. Pressing and gliding over all the right spots and my body picks up right where it left off. The fuse lit, my body coiling up to release every minute of sexual tension that this man has put me through over the last five years. And as it all overtakes me, I hear the music hit its crescendo too, I understand what he was up to. Because I can’t even think to hold back the noises that are pouring out of me in tandem with the slick that runs out of me and all over Jack’s hand. The track covers up our indiscretion perfectly giving me the freedom to ride out everything that Jack’s giving me.
He kisses me deeply, reverently, as I come down from my high and I know that just one will never be enough. I need to feel this again and again and again from this man. And I nearly go feral, come again, and drop to my knees right here in the middle of the club as Jack raises his hand to his mouth and sucks me from his fingers one by one. And I also want to give as good as I’ve been given, so make a quick mental note to return the proverbial favor as soon as possible.
It turns out that I don’t have to wait long because as soon as Jack has smoothed my dress back over my body, he grips my hand in his and drags me off to the massive unisex bathroom. So big, that there’s a bar in the middle of the room and its own separate DJ. He pulls me to the far end of the room where it’s marginally quieter and into an open bathroom stall, locking the door behind us.
Once we’re locked in, the look he gives me is nothing short of predatory and for a brief moment, I’m actually frightened of what Jack is going to do with me. But the reality of his next move is even more terrifying for its intensity as his mouth crashes into mine. Kisses so intense in the tenuous control Jack holds that all I can do is let him give whatever he wants to me. He presses his entire body into mine as my back pushes against the stall and his fingers rope in my hair. He growls, ferociously while his tongue parries with mine and my hands roam over his body, trying to find some purchase.
I don’t know how long we’re like this, I’m so lost in Jack’s mouth on mine, but the moment we come up for air, I push him back against the opposite wall and start to work at his belt, pulling it apart at breakneck speed. But Jack mistakes my intentions as he gives me another look so full of possession that I’m slightly worried that he’s just going to take me without letting me take something for myself first. Jack starts to take control again, as my fingers fumble with the zipper of his jeans, but I don’t let him, not yet anyway, as I take a half step back and sink to my knees before him, ready to worship.
“Fuck, baby.” Jack swears brutally as I finish opening him up, like the best present ever, licking my lips then just completely taking him in my mouth. I wrap my hand around the base of his pretty cock, not even sure if my fingers can wrap all the way around it. Jack swears again as spit and precum mix to make my hand slide over him in tandem with my mouth.
I try to take deep steady breaths so I can open the back of my throat and take him all the way in while his fingers rope back in my hair, holding me in place for a moment while I look up at him through my lashes, sweetly, reverently. Jack sighs deeply before he releases me and I slide back to the head of his cock. My tongue gliding along the underside before I release him with a pop.
“Where do you wanna come, Jack? How do you want me?” I ask, not really concerned about getting an answer before I descend again while he thinks it over. I can’t help it. He’s fucking delicious. My mouth rises and descends again and again, bringing him ever closer. When he stops me and pulls me up off the floor, setting me back on my feet, before Jack kisses me so thoroughly that my knees go weak and he has to press me against the stall again to keep me from falling over. And while I never envisaged that my first time with Jack Daniels would be in a bathroom stall in the middle of a packed club, I also can’t deny that it’s perfect. That I wouldn’t want this any other way right now. That the desire between us is so undeniable and so present that neither of us can even wait to get to somewhere more private before we fuck each other into the next orbit.
“I want you right here.” Jack says with a finality in his tone so prevalent I can’t even think to contradict him at all. But the next command has me ready to do whatever he asks now and forever. “Eyes on me, babygirl. You’re gonna look at me while I fuck you. Do you understand?”
I swallow hard. Holy hell, I am so turned on right now. And hearing Jack speak to me like he owns me is igniting a fire inside me that I never knew existed. A desire to be submissive to this man. To trust him so completely that I can give the control of my pleasure over without the slightest hesitation.
“I said, do you understand?” Jack asks again. He’s looking for consent and I’m all too happy to give it to him.
“I understand.” I reply, reverently.
“If it’s too much, all you have to do is say stop. And I will. Immediately.”
“I won’t.” I sigh, content.
Jack moves ever closer helping me prop first one then the other heel against the opposite wall, caging Jack between my legs. He tears the thin lacy panties, wet from tonight’s antics, from the seam in his haste to get them out of the way before he drives into me with such ferocity that he pushes the breath from me and I can’t help the involuntary release of his name on the exhale.
I’m pawing at his back, trying to find any way of steadying myself while his hips snap into mine relentlessly. Making me wetter and wetter with each perfect stroke. And I know I won’t last long. The orgasm is already crawling down my spine at a breakneck pace while he whispers the filthiest words in my ear and keeps trying to push his entire body into mine in an attempt to get us even closer.
The Cure’s Just Like Heaven blasts over the sound system and it’s perfect. Pushing me over the edge with a shudder and Jack’s name on my breath as my arms are wrapped around his body, holding him as close as possible. Jack fucks me through my release muttering about how perfect I am and how wet the drag of his cock inside of me is making it so easy to keep pushing even deeper than he thought possible.
Our breathing in time to the beat of the song and our fucking, Jack pulls back just enough to watch himself move in perfect strokes in and out of me and I watch him watch us in fascination. And even though I’m not even fully down from the high of my last release, I can already feel the next one building as fast as the Bullet train to Tokyo.
I glance down to see what he sees — and him, swearing viciously at the scene being played out between us. I grip the front of his shirt, his eyes snapping back up to mine, pupils completely blown out. I pull Jack to me for another kiss — we’re so close now. The sounds escaping uncontrolled and needy and I’m sure the entire club can hear us fucking. But I’m too consumed with him to care even a little bit. Let them all hear what this man does to me.
I don’t entirely know what pushes me to lucidity at this moment, but I find enough of a voice to whisper a request.
“Jack? Take a photo of us? Where we’re connected?”
He looks at me a little shocked maybe, but it’s so fleeting and immediately replaced by a look so filthy that it takes my breath away as he reaches over to grab the phone from my bag, on the hook of the back of the door. He fumbles slightly, trying to open the camera app while he’s actively filling me with his perfect cock. But he does manage to get the app open and the next thing I hear is the artificial shutter sound as he takes about a million photos of us while he fucks me relentlessly. And the hedonism of this request sends us both over the edge. With his name on my lips, over and over. Like the perfect prayer offered up to the gods in thanks for this very moment. While Jack pours himself into me, claiming me as his from the inside out.