Page 64 of The Holy Grail
JULES: I’ll see you Sunday night at 7 p.m.
JULES: And don’t you dare make it weird.
PAIGE: I would never do that.
JULES: Sure you wouldn’t.
“It’s all set,” Jules said, then set her phone down and added dryly, “She’s really looking forward to it.”
“Me, too,” Malcom agreed, even though he was feeling slightly anxious about the dinner date, mainly because it was happening faster than it had ever happened before, and he knew friends held a lot of influence. Jules was trying to assuage his apprehension, but nothing was certain until after the dinner. And if it somehow didn’t go well, he would be crushed if Jules ended their relationship. They were still in the very beginning stages and therefore not on solid footing, which made him wish this invitation hadn’t been issued for at least another month.
He reached over to take Jules’ hand in both of his. “I know we haven’t been going out very long, but this feels really good,” he told her softly.
“I agree.”
“You do?”
She nodded. “This is all new to me, but I’m really enjoying it.”
Just hearing her say she was ‘enjoying’ what they had going on—in that smoky drawl of hers—was enough to send all his blood flowing south, and as his cock began to harden with a purpose, he pulled her toward him so he could kiss her. It seemed like he couldn’t kiss her enough, and he was gratified she seemed to feel the same way. Seconds later, shewas straddling one of his legs, her hands in his hair, holding him in place as she devoured his lips.
He had started to notice she was a little aggressive, sexually speaking, and he really liked it. He’d liked it with his ex-wife, too, in the beginning, before it turned into something dark and … off-putting.
Low moans vibrating in Jules’ throat diverted his thoughts away from Gwen (thankfully), and he lost himself in the taste of the beautiful woman rubbing against his leg, her breasts crushed against his chest. His hands slipped under her shirt and around to her back, intending to unhook her bra so he could feel her up properly, only to discover she wasn’t wearing one.
She must have registered his surprise, because she pulled away from his mouth long enough to murmur, “I hardly ever wear one because my tits are small.”
“That’s fantastic.”
“That my tits are small?”
“That, too, but I was really referring to you hardly ever wearing a bra. I’m going to enjoy that a lot.”
“Which means I will, too.”
He nodded knowingly. “So, would you like to take this—”
“Hell, yes, I would.”
“You don’t even know what the rest of that sentence was going to be.”
“It better be the location of where we’re going to engage in some sweaty, needy, mind-blowing sex.”
He gazed into her dark blue eyes, heavy with desire. “You get straight to the point, don’t you?”
“I do, especially when I really want something. And I’ve wanted to engage in some sweaty, needy, mind-blowing sex with you since our first date,” she told him.
“Really?”
“Yes, really. And if you bring up the fact I sat on my ass for a year—”
“It was actually fifteen months.”
“—then you won’t be allowed to pick the position.”
Silence hung between them for several seconds, and even though he’d already pointed out her timeline discrepancy, he acted like he hadn’t and pretended to zip his lip.
“Smart man,” she said.
