Page 17 of Savage in the Sheets
“Demands? Will you be making demands of me? I thought this was going to be more of a negotiation.”
She smirks, and I can’t help but lean down and plant another kiss on her sweet, pouty lips. She returns the kiss, but I sense some hesitation.
I brush some loose strands of hair away from her face. “Are you alright with this much, at least?”
She nods. “I am. I just can’t afford to lose you.”
“That makes two of us.”
Jenna
My alarm buzzes for the third time, but instead of getting out of bed, I hit snooze, reminiscing about Weston.
Did last night really happen? Did I really kiss my best friend? Did I really tell him I needed to know how he wants me to fuck him?
Of course, I did—because I’m the stupidest smart person there is.
I mull over every word, every gesture, every touch. Was Weston really into me? Or was I just reading too far into the situation?
The look of hunger in his eyes was undeniable, but was it really for me?
If he had wanted, he could have gone home with that little bar-fly in the short skirt that was perched on his lap.
Instead, he came over to my apartment and proceeded to tell me I deserve better than Barry, said that he’d fuck me to pay off some imagined debt. When I got angry, he kissed me. Fuck, it was good.
Everything after that is a jumbled ball of confusion.
It doesn’t take a psychology major to know what’s going on. He probably saw me having fun with Barry and got jealous, confusing it with lust.
Unfortunately, what I feel is a lot more complicated.
I don’t think I’ve ever felt as sexually alive as I had last night, during that kiss. My best orgasm doesn’t compete with that moment because what I experienced with Weston was a spark that could ignite an inferno.
We were the tinder.
Thank God I had enough sense to put a day in between our decision because I was a breath away from asking him into my bedroom, which could have led to disaster.
It’s not that Weston would ever disrespect me—quite the opposite. He would bend over backwards to make sure I was okay and well cared for.
I just don’t trust myself not to fall for him.
I call into the office to tell Elliot, my partner, that I’m working from home today, which he’s thrilled to hear. His wife recently gave birth to their third child, so he’s spent a lot of time out of the office. With me working from home for a day, it alleviates a bit of his guilt.
Opening my notepad, I sit at my desk playing Red Light, Green Light with Weston in my mind, sans clothing and inhibitions.
Focus, Jenna!
Okay, so, what’s on the table, and what’s off the table.
Kissing:good
Petting over clothes:also good
Petting under clothes:
Holy sweet Jesus, this is Wes I’m thinking about—what the hell is wrong with me?
Pacing the room does little to calm my nerves, so I decide to make myself a morning mimosa before going back to my list.
