Page 30 of Blindsided By You

She grabs at one hand and tugs it down, encouraging me to explore under the hem of her rugby jersey. There’s nothing beneath but perfect heated skin, and I splay my fingers over her soft, smooth stomach, working across a surprising ripple of light muscle and up over ribs, finally cupping one heavy hand-filling breast.

She sighs into my mouth as I squeeze, trailing my thumb across the large erect nipple that’s pushing against the lace of her bra, and I grunt out a sigh in return as it blossoms under my touch. I want to see it, taste it. I draw my hand down, bringing the other to Jenna’s waist and attend to the task of removing her jersey.

I grasp at it, roughly tugging it upwards, desperate to unwrap this unexpected gift. Jenna helps me, raising her arms so I can pull the jersey up over her head. As I fling it to the floor, she steps back, head dipped a little, looking up at me from beneath shyly fluttering lashes as if unsure whether I’ll approve.

How could I not? Jenna’s body is so much more than my lustful brain could have ever imagined. She’s slim-waisted, and broad-hipped, with skin that glows a sun-kissed honey. The shadowy valley of her cleavage only hinted at what lies beneath. Now ripe, luscious tits are revealed. They strain against their white lace cage, spilling over the edges. Generous but firmly rounded, they beg for my touch. The nipples, barely held in place, are bold, a dusky coffee colour with a halo of deep brown.

I lean in, burying my nose between her breasts, inhaling the scent of her skin. The fragrance of frangipani and exotic orchids, with an underlying hint of coconut, explodes in my nostrils. I drift on waves that transport me back to familiar memories of heated tropical nights.

And yet beneath it there’s another smell, the unique warmth of Jenna, and I’m fully aware that tonight I’m in a special paradise, a place I’ve never been before, somewhere where I might want to stay for a very long time.

Her arms wrap around my neck, hands clasped, their weight urging me down. My hands knead at her tits greedily as she hums her approval against my shoulder. I swivel my head across, taking one nipple in my mouth, at first circling my tongue in lazy strokes, then sucking hard, my mouth soaking the fabric, my teeth nipping. Not wanting to neglect the other of this beautiful pair, I turn my greedy attention to it, and Jenna throws her head back, neck arching with a breathy moan as I thrust the breast up to meet my hungry lips.

My hand snakes around her back, and despite fear my haste will make me clumsy, my fingers deftly unhook the clasp of her bra. I release her nipple from my mouth just long enough for the bra totumble to the floor between us, freeing the two beauties who I’m far from finished with.

Little sighs of pleasure merge with squeaks of pain as I tantalise and punish in equal measure, delighting in the way she returns the attention. One moment her mouth is hard, sucking at the sensitive skin of my neck, bruising it with her demands, the next sharp neat teeth bite into my shoulder. My skin flames beneath her mouth. I imagine the tiny bruises forming—she’s marking me as hers.

Jenna pauses for a moment, and I can almost hear her thoughts. I know I’m in trouble, when her hands rove downwards, tracing the line of my hip bones before busily fumbling at my belt. Frantic fingers work at the buttons of my jeans. My cock swells at every flickering touch, even though there’s a layer of heavy denim and cotton boxer briefs between us. I feel her mouth morph into a smile against my collarbone as the fabric parts and her hand works its way under the waistband of my briefs to grip my length with a possessive pressure. She giggles.

“Think I’ve found what I need right here.”

I break away from my work, lifting my head to face her.

“And what exactly do you need?” I quirk a brow, my mouth falling into a lopsided smirk.

“This,” she says, squeezing my cock for emphasis. “I think it might like to come out and play.” She grins at me, her mouth pink and swollen from my bruising kisses.

This sexy siren woman, beckoning me in, is another side of Jenna I’ve never seen before, and it’s fucking blowing my mind. I want her so bad; but fuck, I need to know she wants it, too. Really wants it.

Much as I hate risking what promises to be the best sex of my life, I’d rather that than tainting Jenna with regret come morning.I’m playing the long game here. If I wanted a one-night stand with her, then fine, we’d just carry on; but I want a lot more than that. If patience is what’s required—even though I can’t imagine this hard-on disappearing for hours unless I get the chance to relieve it—then patient is what I’ll be.

“Are you sure?” It comes out a growl. My voice is not my own. “Say it Jenna.”

I need to hear it. I’m not taking another step towards this danger unless I’m sure she’s fully prepared to go there with me.

“I’m sure.”

Her eyes flicker up to mine, and in them I see that earlier unexpected shyness return, as if asking for what she wants isn’t familiar to her. It damn well is in her work life, but maybe here in the bedroom, she’s not used to calling the shots.

“Sure of what, Jenna?” Her lashes tremble shut, eyes closing against the question. “What do you want, Jenna? What do you want me to do? Tell me.”

I’m insistent. This is a woman who is always in control. She can demand anything of me and god knows I’ll give it, but there are some huge lines we’re crossing here and she has to tell me how far she’s planning to go. I’m hoping her plans match the pulsing in my pants. The small panting breaths and the tiny jewels of sweat on her lips suggest they do, but I need more than a suggestion.

I can’t help it, and relent, leaning in to kiss her again, sucking in the taste of her. She gives a small moan and pulls back.

“Fuck me, Geordie.”

Her commanding tone is no surprise. I’ve learned Jenna is a woman who gets what she wants. There’s no doubt that right now, what she wants is me.

For the last hour in the bar, the flutter of those dark lashes and the sensuous curve of her mouth signalled where this evening could go if I chose. If I look back over this whole day—perhaps this entire week—the signs were there, coded invitations to seek her out, delve into who she is as a person. Now she’s offering me the total freedom to explore her body; I won’t refuse, even though part of my rational mind screams a warning as to all the ways this could go wrong.

Hearing the unexpected coarse words from her normally proper mouth is an absolute turn on. I stiffen more at the thought of fulfilling that request. At the same time, my brain lurches in understanding. Not ‘make love to me’ but ‘fuck me’, the words a sign she’s cast off the cool professional Jenna the outside world sees. She’s offering me a glimpse of the unbridled woman beneath that controlled exterior. I won’t refuse her command, but still I seek further confirmation. I need to see it in her eyes.

“Look at me when you say it, Jenna.”

I cup her chin in my hand, tilting her head upwards. I crave hearing those words again while she sees the promise of what I’m about to do to her in my eyes.

She does as I ask, brown eyes blazing with need.

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