Page 19 of Entirely Yours
He finishes the drink and brings it over to me, sitting in a cozy looking chair nearby. We are close enough that our knees brush, but that really doesn’t feel closeenough. I take a sip of the iced coffee Jules hands me and—“Holy shit that’s good. It’s really decaf?”
He nods in reply. His leg stretches out between mine, and his foot hooks behind my ankle, guiding my leg closer to him. I watch as he props my foot onto his knee and begins to massage my calf. I can’t help the groan I let loose.
As a dancer, I am always sore. I obviously do what I can to keep my muscles happy—I swear those massager guns are heaven sent—but more often than not, my body is aching. Which is why most professional dancers are young, retiring by the time they are thirty.
Jules hangs his head, kneading into my calf with his incredibly capable thumbs. I can’t help the impulse this time. I reach over and yank the tie out of his hair, freeing his waves to cascade down to his shoulders.
He looks up at me through his now loose hair. “Better?” He smirks.
I set my coffee down and then reach out to run my good hand through his hair. It’s his turn to groan now, and that has me up out of my seat and onto his lap in the blink of an eye.
Just like that, we are almost right back to where we were thenight we met. Except there are too many layers between us now. I catch a glimpse of the gold chain around his neck and trace my finger lightly across where it lies delicately over his collar bone, enjoying his shuddering inhale that follows.
The lights in the coffee shop are off, and there are shockingly few people out and about tonight—something I had forgotten about small-town America—which emboldens me to take what I want from Jules. And what I want are his lips, his tongue, his hands. All of him, as soon as possible.
I grind down on his hardening erection, my yoga pants leaving little to the imagination. Jules immediately starts in on my neck. He nips and kisses and whispers sweet nothings before tugging my earlobe into his mouth.
Finally, his lips meet mine, and I am extremely pleased by the fact that I was not imagining the spark between us last time.
He kisses me and it’s like a dream. He’s somehow gentle and powerful at the same time. His entire personality seems to be communicated in this kiss. Understated but giving, commanding yet kind. He runs his hands up and down my thighs, behind to my ass, and then up to the back of my neck. I drop my head back as he pulls my coat off, savoring his attention.
Suddenly, I’m being lifted off his lap and carried over to the countertop. It would seem that Jules carries me through life now. Not that I mind.
“Is this okay?” he asks, pulling back to look at me.
“Feels like a bit of a health code violation, but other than that it’s great.”
His eyes crinkle at the corner. “We are closed for renovations for the next few weeks. Replacing the countertop is on the list.”
“Excellent, you may proceed.” I wave my hand toward our joined hips. Leaning over, I whisper in his ear, “Take my pants off, Julien.”
I want to fucking devour this woman. I don’t care that we are on the counter in The Coffee Shop. I don’t care that anyone could walk by and see us.
Thea makes me feel feral. A feeling that has only intensified since I saw her again after thinking I’d lost her. I know she’s skittish—she’s told me as much—but I’m hoping my actions will show her that I want to try this with her. Try dating, try a relationship, and, yeah, right now I’d really like to try having sex. So I do what the woman requested, and I take her pants off.
And then I stay down on my knees.
I bite my way up her thigh. She moans but it cuts off suddenly when I get to the apex of her legs. “Wait!” she says, and I immediately pull my head back.
“I’m sor?—”
“No,” she interrupts. “Don’t be sorry. I just want to say two things. One, I haven’t had sex in a while, but lasttime I checked, no STIs. Two, I have a scar from my C-section with Chloe.” She cringes and I wait for her to continue.
When she doesn’t, I realize she’s worried about my reaction to her scar. I nod but don’t say anything, tapping her ass to get her to lift her hips. Once her underwear is sitting on the ground on top of her leggings, I brush my thumb over Thea’s scar. It sits right in line with her hip bones, cutting part of the way across. As much as I want to taste her immediately, I need her to understand something.
So I lean down and kiss across that scar she’s so worried about. Between kisses I look up and remind her, “You are brave. You are strong. You are a badass. You—” I pause for emphasis. “—are a great mom.”
She exhales, whispering, “You don’t know those things. You barely know me.”
“I know enough,” I reply. “Can I?” My finger trails lower, through her neatly trimmed curls, to the top of her slit.
“Please, Jules,” she mumbles. “Please, please.”
“I like it when you beg, Thea.” And I reward her with a long lick around her clit as my finger slides in. She’s dripping wet already, and she tastes so fucking good. It’s going to take everything in me not to come in my pants. “I want you to make a mess of me.”
I pump in and out, adding a second finger and then a third, curling them as she arches back. “You’re doing so good.” She is. I can feel her tightening, see her chest heaving. I would stay down here all night if she’d let me. Taste every inch of her sweet cunt.
I wonder if she’d let me…
