Chapter seven
"Jason,"
Jason opened his eyes then looked up and grinned brightly at the sight of his wife, the love of his life, his soulmate, straddling him with that sexy glint in her warm chocolate eyes, her plump lips turned up into a ridiculously arousing smile.
God, she was a nicely put together woman. What a lucky son of a bitch he was. She'd a tiny waist but wide hips and the ass to match. Nothing got him off more than watching her walk around their bedroom in that tiny lacy thong when she was getting ready for her day. Expect maybe her feet? When she wore those killer heels –Oh Jesus- he could go from flacid to empire state building in seconds.
With her straddled on his chest, he was slightly blinded by a burning bright light behind her. It made her look almost heavenly…so inviting…so angelic.
"Jason, fuck me. Jason."
Jason grinned up at her, enjoying the view. She was wearing that teddy suit, the black lacy one that barely covered her tits, just a thin strap satin lace over her nipples.
God she'd great tits.
They just fit in his hand and no more…and he'd large hands. He'd had to get a ring on her finger quick before Sawyer or Ryan decided they wanted to try for an older woman. Gail was all his, he was territorial about that. She'd a stunning body, she could cook fantastically and she genuinely made him laugh like no other woman had ever done. She didn't try to change him, didn't look at him with God-worship like a lot of the others did. She saw him as a man, her man, and was quick to ground him whenever Ryan or Luke's ass kissing went to his ego.
Those plump lips found his and he could do nothing but accept her kiss, his arms and legs not moving like he wanted them to.
This was new, he thought; she must have tied him up. Luke often called Jason a prude and yes he was a little more conventional than the other guys, and compared to Grey he most definitely was a prude. That didn't mean he objected to a little bit of disciple; he was a soldier after all and always got a kick out of Gail taking control of him, especially as they'd been together for so long now. One time she'd refused to let him cum and had kept the teasing and edging going for an entire day, sending him photos, dirty texts, things which required him to get a second phone the next day in case the boss read their conversations.
God, was she going to edge him again? He hoped so, the intensity had had him reeling for days following. He was a good Sailor, she'd said.
He liked being a good sailor for her...
Suddenly, Gail was no longer kissing him.
"Fuck me, Jason. Get up for me," she whispered.
Oh baby he was already up and waiting for her. He could feel slight dampness in his boxer briefs, Gail able to make him precum just by straddling him in that teddy suit.
Oh God her tits looked good...
"I said get up," she ordered now.
Couldn't she feel his hard-on under her? She was straddling him after all and he was well above average. He'd measured himself in privacy when Ryan had brought in that article about the average penis length being 5.6 inches. Reynolds had been uncharacteristically quiet for the rest of that day, Luke as boastful as ever and Ryan just worriedly asking them for opinions on sex.
Fucking virgin.
After a second conformation from Gail, Jason was glad to find that he was well above average by nearly two inches. Of course he never told the others; he was a private man after all, which was why they thought he was a pride. Gail however had mentioned it to her girlfriends one night. Apparently cock size was something women liked to talk about. Go figure.
"Get up now, god damn it Taylor," she growled at him now and then slapped his face. Hard.
That was a little rougher than he liked, his ex-wife having been incredibly abusive in the past. Gail knew a little about it so Jason was shocked she'd strike him. Had she forgotten that or was she getting carried away?
Before he could object, she was kissing him again.
Only that wasn't her tongue in his mouth; she was blowing air into his chest.
What the fuck?!
She started to violently push down on his diaphragm, knocking the air from his lungs.
"Fuck me, Jason. Fuck! Get up!" Gail shouted in his face, slapping him before kissing him again and blowing up his lungs…the light behind Gail growing greyer and greyer…pain suddenly began burning in his stomach….she pushed his chest again…30 compressions...two breaths….30 compressions….two breat-
.
His eyes shot open and he came face to face with Christian Grey's grey desperate eyes, the man's mouth on his. Fucking hell. Grey removed his lips from Jason's, sitting back and letting the bodyguard catch his own breath. The bastard was still straddling Jason's lap though.
What was going-
"Fuck me, Jason," Christian laughed, stroking his cheek affectionately. It wasn't a real laugh however, more an attempt to hide the fact he was close to tears with relief. The boss was crying over him? God, Jason must look like shit, he thought.
"Fuck me," Grey repeated, running his hand through his dusty hair, "I thought I'd lost you. God Jason, can you even hear me? You were right next to where the first missile struck. You're so fucking lucky. The building fell and there was a dust cloud and then it cleared and you were okay. You were okay. I mean, you're not okay, but you're better than Roz and…"
First missile?
Jason was so confused, struggling to hear over the residual ringing in his ears. Where had Gail gone? That beautiful warm light too? He wanted to be back there this very second.
Why was…what had...Oh God this was all so seriously messed up. He could actually taste the boss in his mouth. The bastard had had a tuna roll for lunch, Jason hated fish.
He remembered the dampness he'd felt in his briefs so ignored Grey's ramblings a little more, his hand shooting for his crotch. He felt Christian jumping as Jason's hand rubbed him up by accident, the bastard still straddled on his lap.
"It's okay, calm down," Christian said firmly, "You're bleeding but it's okay; you took a piece of shrapnel in the stomach."
Yup, that wasn't precum on Jason's hand; that was blood. And what had felt like a little dampness was actually utter saturation of his jeans.
"Ryan?" Jason finally croaked, his head aching. He must have hit it hard so he laid back still and just looked up at the boss's familiar, happy face. It was rare that he smiled like this and Jason had to admit, he was a little touched by it, even if his mouth tasted like Tuna remnants. Staring into the boss's grey eyes was keeping him steady, the world around them loud and noisy and busy as people ran around trying to scrape the remains of the building off the survivors.
"He's with Roz," Christian said with a hint of sadness, "He's trying to find her in the rubble but…I think she's gone."
"She ran," Jason coughed, his lungs full of dust. Coughing hurt his stomach badly, "I tried."
"I know, we know. Calm down, okay?" Christian ordered and Jason did as asked, just looking at the boss, "Thank you, Taylor."
"Roz is gone." Ryan said, suddenly came into Jason's review, and stood behind Christian's shoulder. He was sweating and covered in dust but he still looked like such a Boy Scout; adorable and freckly under the harsh sun. How was this kid ever special forces? "Hey, Jason, how's your stomach? You look like the terminator."
"Huh?" Jason frowned then finally realised what Christian had told him; he'd a hunk of metal embedded into his side.
Deep.
"What happened?" Jason gasped, the pain shooting through him.
"Rocket launcher. Four missiles in total. The building fell down on Roz but you went flying in the other direction so you're really lucky, Boss," Ryan said, that adorable smile doing nothing to stop Jason hurting, "We've got to get moving, Sir."
"Go without me," Jason winced, sitting up a little and seeing he had, indeed, been skewered in the side by a shard of jagged metal.
"I didn't just preform CPR to leave you alive," Christian scoffed, hooking his arm under Jason's whilst Ryan brushed rubble from Jason's body. The pain was excruciating and he nearly passed out until he was set on his feet.
"Come on. We've got to get moving," Ryan said firmly, holding Jason's rifle as well as his own.
"Wait, wait," Jason coughed, dust spluttering out of his lungs. He put his hands in his pockets and side in relief as he pulled out on of Gail's stupid fruity-tooty, hippy-dippy gem stones, a 'Good luck' stone.
He'd taken it without her permission and it now had a large crack in it.
Fuck, she was going to kill him for taking and breaking her things.
"It's okay," Jason told them both, "Let's go."
