by Erin Havoc
I’m not sure either. He’s handsome, hot and his voice? Sultry and velvety and, God, just take me somewhere and fuck me senseless.
The nasty words flit through my mind. Choking, I turn away to clear my throat. What the hell, did a spirit possess me out of nowhere? What is this man doing to me?
I can feel his knee brushing mine and it’s setting my body on fire. This attraction is not normal. Not healthy.
And it can’t blind my heart.
04
* * *
JASPER
M
y mouth waters.
She already had me with her pictures. Seeing her next to me might be my end. My doom.
I have led an upright life. Worked hard, made my name, became a self-made millionaire. Self-controlled, careful, fastidious.
I have never felt so feral in my whole existence.
She smells fucking delectable. I want to bury my face in her hair and fill my lungs with it. After I help her sit, I immediately regret it. She should be sitting on my lap. Her new throne. I could touch her knee and ride my hand higher and higher over her creamy thighs until I reached her most precious place.
Christine.
Her name makes me hot. I don’t know what this is, but from the moment I put my eyes on her, I needed her. Her presence, her warmth. I’d fight wars over this woman.
This woman with whom I’ve exchanged a few words over a dating app chat.
This woman I want to marry.
Her profile said it all. She’s looking for someone to collect her V-card. And it’s me. I know she’s been waiting for me. We have been dancing through life with the only purpose of meeting each other.
Christine bats her eyelashes at me as she peruses me. She takes her time, cocking her head. Her hair spills down her shoulder and she cracks open a smile.
Damn, what was life like before she arrived and made it worth living? I can’t remember. I don’t want to.
“You do look like the pictures.” Her voice is the sweetest sound, and I can’t wait to hear her saying my name.
Over and over, amid breathless moans.
“You look better.” I reach a hand but stop myself. I want to touch her, to run my fingers over her smooth skin, rope her soft hair between my fingers. But intimidating her is not on my list. Those wide, innocent eyes of her make me think of a sheep, and I’m the wolf, drooling over her. “You look fantastic.”
She pulls her shoulders together and looks away, color blossoming over her cheeks. “Thanks,” she mutters, though I’m not sure she means it. I frown, wondering why she feels insecure. I want her to feel safe. Need her to feel safe. From this day on, I’m protecting her. She squirms and I wonder if she’s feeling the same attraction I feel. “Did you have a hard time finding this place?”
I shake my head. “Not at all. Everything is easy when you have a GPS.”
She giggles. “True that.”
Licking my lips, I release a breath. There’s so much tension cackling between us, I’m afraid she’ll run off. But from the moment I saw her, I pictured her in a white dress, and scaring her off on our first date won’t do. “Why did you chose this café, anyway? Do you live nearby?”
Her shoulders relax, and I count it as a victory. “Not really, but I like the place. A friend of mine owns it.”
“Oh, does she?” I smile, leaning forward. “What about you? Your profile said you definitely take better pictures than me. Are you a photographer?”
I can’t say I pored over every bit of info I found on her. Can’t let her see I’m obsessed just yet. I know Christine’s a photographer at a small studio, a tiny place downtown with an ancient website and little contact information. In the digital era, the owner’s far behind. Of course, I will contact him about selling the place soon. If Christine adores photography as much as I think she does, I’m giving her the place.
It’s stupid and impulsive, yes. But I don’t care.
This woman is my future wife, and I will do anything it takes to make her happy.
She bobs her head. “I am a photographer. Capturing moments is such a wonderful thing.”
“What are your favorites? Weddings?”
She tells me about it, and she beams at every good memory. Christine is a gift from the heavens. A goddess incarnate. I love it how she grins at her favorite memories, and how she adores snapping spontaneous pictures of smiling children. I can’t help but picture her capturing our children’s lives. The children we’ll surely have someday.
A girl approaches and asks for our orders. Christine asks for an espresso and a slice of pie. I’m good with just a cup of strong coffee. Honestly, I won’t be distracted from the way her lips move when she bites off the treat. The girl ambles away while I can’t take my eyes off Christine. Her smooth skin seems to glow under the artificial lights, her hair bright and smooth.
Fuck, I need to wrap those strands around my knuckles. Feel their smoothness between my fingertips.
I’m dying to learn the sounds she makes when she climaxes. How she cries out my name when I lick her cunt until it quivers between my lips.
And more. I ask about her favorite food, color, flower. The music she listens to, the movies she likes to watch. Everything. I catalog every detail for future use.
“What about you? Do you live nearby?” She asks, cocking her head in that way that makes her hair sway.
Small talk. I tell her a bit about me — where I live, what I do for a living. But we have all the time in the world and I’m too interested in learning everything there is to know about her. I feel like I’ve wasted my life away, parted from her, and I have to make up for it.
When the waitress places her pie in front of her, I watch with rapt attention as she cuts a tiny piece and brings the fork to her lips. Fucking hell, my cock is about to burst inside my pants. Her plump mouth closes around the utensil and she licks it clean. She’s breathtaking. And she has no idea.
Inching my chair closer, I touch my knuckles to her wrist. Hot shivers run up my arm, gooseflesh covering her skin too. She releases a sigh and looks up at me.
Her gaze asks me if I feel the same.
And I fucking do.
Her eyes are heavy with something I can’t place as she studies my face. She stops at my lips, and her tongue shoots out to lick at the corner of her mouth. She’s temptation in flesh, her cheeks flushed, her eyes heated. Innocent and quiet. But I can fucking tell she’ll make me forget everything else when we’re joined.
“Have we met?” She blinks, her long lashes brushing along her cheekbones.
I shake my head. “Unfortunately not. I would have remembered.”
“It’s so odd,” she breathes out, drifting closer. Leaning. Her body seeking mine. “I feel like I know you. Like I’ve always known you.”
My heart clogs my throat. I swallow to dislodge it. “I feel the same,” my voice comes out weak. Exposed. Like I’ve never felt before. “From the moment I put my eyes on your pictures, I felt the same.”
She sucks in a shuddering breath, her marvelous chest heaving. This dress of hers hugs every curve of her perfect body, and it makes me hot all over. Ready to pounce on her.
Her lips part. Beckoning me.
“How interested are you in this pie?” I ask, my voice coming out so hoarse I have to clear my throat. Twice.
Her mouth stretches in a soft smile. “It’s an exceptional pie. I wouldn’t want to see it go to waste.”
“Fair enough.” I stretch my arm to take the fork from her and I part another bite of the confection, bringing it up to her face. “Then allow me.”
Christine stretches her neck and closes her mouth around the fork, her gaze fastened on mine.
Fuck, she has no idea how hard she’s getting me. My cock twitches against the fly of my pants, aching. I can’t wait to have her lips around me, her pretty head bobbing up and down on my lap.
Images flash in the back of my mind. Christine could swallow my load, or not. I could watch it dripping from betw
een her lips, running down her chin. This heated gaze of hers sending my body into overdrive as she opens her pretty mouth to show off my cream. Or I could fuck her sweet tits. They’re big enough to take me between them, and fucking hell, I want to cover them in my seed. She would tilt her chin down and stick her tongue out, and she’d lap at the head until I burst open.
Who have I become? We have barely met, and she’s already turned me into a fiend.
I serve her of more pie, and she lets me. Her gaze never leaves mine as she watches, takes it all in. Christine looks all shy and collected at first, but I can see the flames dancing along her amber eyes. I can feel the lust radiating from her in waves.
“Why are you doing this?” She inquires around a forkful of pie.
“Doing what?” I grunt, hot and bothered with how she looks next to me.
“Feeding me. I can do that myself.”
“You can. But I want to.” I want to care for her. Protect her. I want her to be the very reason of my existence.
As she cleans the plate and sips her espresso, I cover her hand in mine. Her warmth is addictive. I can’t stop touching her. She lets me, intertwining our fingers together.
“Why?” She murmurs, her voice breaking.
I bring her hand up to my lips and kiss her knuckles. “Christine.” She shivers, her eyes fluttering for a moment. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever put my eyes on. Why would I treat you any less than the queen you are?”
She gasps and strains the muscles of her arm, but once my lips touch her hand again, she relaxes. I bring my lips up to the back of her hand, and up to her wrist. More shivers follow as I kiss up her naked arm until my face hovers over hers. Her lips are half-opened again, and she’s ready. She’s so ready for me I know I could put her down over this table and take her. Mark her.
But I won’t. I will do everything right.
Because I can’t forget she’s here for a one-night stand while I want to drop down on one knee and propose. She’s here to lose her virginity, and I want to be her first and last.
Touching her chin with a hand, I tilt her face up. Her breath hits my lips in soft puffs, almost driving me insane. I hold back, using every ounce of my restraints to give her the time she needs. I cannot scare her.
But fucking hell, I do need a taste.
Running my thumb over her lower lip, I watch her eyes flutter again.
“You don’t mean it,” she mumbles.
“What, baby?” The endearment leaves me without my noticing, but I don’t care.
She presses her lips together and looks up at me with bravado in her pupils. “When you say I’m the most beautiful girl you’ve ever met. You don’t mean it.”
I frown. “Of course I do, baby. I’ve been obsessed with you from the moment I’ve seen your pictures. Haven’t you noticed how quick I was to answer your messages? All I could do this morning was watching that chat, hoping you’d talk to me.” I shake my head. “You’re fucking perfection. Anyone that’s ever made you feel less than that doesn’t deserve your attention.”
A gasp escapes her. “I don’t know. A guy like you...?” Something seems to cross her mind, and she shakes her head. “Never mind.”
I don’t want her to have doubts. I need her free from them. “What is it, baby?”
“Nothing. Kiss me.”
I want to ask more, but I cannot deny that request.
“As you wish,” I grunt before I end the space between us.
The press of lips makes me so fucking hard I almost blow in my pants. It’s ridiculous really. I’m behaving like a teenager. The sensation of her soft mouth against mine drives me so hot I have to grip the back of her chair to keep me grounded. Sane.
Sucking her lower lip between mine, I savor the soft whimpers she makes. The delicious sound is just the beginning of the symphony we’ll build together. Prying her lips open, I tilt her head back and dive deep.
I explore every inch of her mouth, stroke after greedy stroke as our tongues dance. Christine clutches my arms, and she turns to squeeze her chest against mine. She wouldn’t do that if she knew how close to release I am.
But there’s so much to do. So much pleasure to bring her before I claim her as mine.
The kiss is not gentle. In a moment, I’m fisting her hair. Softly at first. But as soon as she moans against my mouth, I know we’ll be perfect for one another. We dance in wild, sensual moves and I make it clear, with every swipe of my tongue, that I’m claiming her.
She breaks the kiss, her hands splayed over my chest, her lips abused. Her eyes are foggy with lust as she looks up at me. “Take me away.”
“Fuck, I wanted you to say that.” I press my lips against hers again before I fish for my wallet and drop a bill over the table, my coffee untouched. “I’ll get my driver and we’ll be out of here in a moment, sweetheart.”
She bobs her head as she shoots a glance over her shoulder. I look up to find one of the girls behind the counter eying us with an arched brow.
“The friend you mentioned?” I ask as I pull my phone out and call for my driver.
“Yeah,” Christine breathes out, patting her hair in place as she draws her phone from her purse. “She’ll want me to send her your address. Is that all right?”
I stop my fumbling to press a kiss to the corner of her lips. She sighs. “Whatever makes you feel safe.”
Christine sends her friend her real-time location and waves before I pluck her from her chair.
If I spend another moment without touching her, tasting her, I’ll go mad. She has my future in her hands.
And I want her to have it all.
05
* * *
CHRISTINE
S
omething odd is happening to my body.
I have never had such a reaction to a man before. I had my first boyfriend when I was in high school, too innocent and naïve to understand how things worked. The romance, the connection I expected, never came. The boys I dated thought my feelings allowed them to touch me, to force my hands into their pants.
Being a twenty-two-year-old virgin isn’t hard when every man in your life is a creep.
Every time I thought I would lose my V-card, I expected it to hurt. Whatever ways I was touched, it wouldn’t arouse me. I only ever reached an orgasm if I touched myself. My exes were only ever interested in their pleasure, never in mine.
So what kind of witchcraft is this?
Jasper’s touch singes my skin. His knuckles brushing along my hand leave a trail of fire down my arm. A shiver, hot and intense, takes me. It runs down my veins like liquid lust, pooling low in my body.
Between my legs, driving wetness from within me.
The feeling of his kiss courses through me like lightning, making every nerve ending buzz.
Holy cow, my body ignites.
There’s no other way to say it. Every cell in me is aflame, burning, burning with desire. For a man I barely know.
He makes me feel wanted, desired. He looks at me with those eyes that tell me he’s paying attention. He listens to me.
It’s so strange. Everything he’s making me feel. It’s only supposed to be a one-night stand, but...
No buts. I promised I’d give this a shot. Don’t overthink. I can’t overthink.
If I do, I know I’ll only hurt myself. I’ll expect more from him. The person who made it very clear he was looking for sex.
Only sex.
After I send Hazel my live location, Jasper takes my hand and strides out of the café. We exit and take a step sideways, waiting for... his driver?
I cock my head, looking up at him. “Jasper.”
He shivers, turning heated eyes to my face. He seems floored by the way his name sounds on my lips. “Yes, love?” He reaches up to cup my face. Flattening my back against the wall, he shields me from view, brushing his body to mine. I remember the pictures on Tinder and wonder if he’s as hard and toned underneath that shirt.
Guess I’ll soon find o
ut.
“You said you were calling your… driver?”
He nods, running a thumb along my jawline. “Yes. Is there a problem?”
As he closes his mouth, my gaze fixed on his lips, a car parks behind him. It purrs softly as Jasper turns and opens the door for me.
It’s a town car. A freaking town car.
I’m still gawking as he joins me, the window in the partition between us and driver sliding open as Jasper slams the door shut.
“Where to, sir?” a man I cannot see asks.
“Home, Oliver,” Jasper says before he turns to me. The glass window slides shut and his hands heat my skin up once more.
Every kiss I have ever received has gone more or less the same way — passive. I go with the flow, I do what the man expects. But this time, Jasper draws something from me I don’t expect. Something urgent. Needy.
My hands, usually on my partner’s shoulders, find his hair. It’s soft, smooth as I expected, and I fist it between my fingers. Jasper crushes me against the leather seat, prying my mouth open with his tongue. He urges me on, flares me up, ignites me.
There’s a really horny Christine inside me I have never met. And I like her.
Leaning into him, I respond with as much hunger as I can. I let my walls down. I let him in.
Our teeth clink and I grow wetter with every sweep of his tongue over mine. With every suck on my lips. Jasper makes a thorough job of driving me near madness.
Unlike every other man I’ve ever kissed, his hands are still around my hips. He rubs circles with his thumbs, torturing me. Even if my pebbled nipples brush against his shirt and my breath comes out in unladylike moans.
I press my thighs together. My girl parts throb with need, and I feel my panties soaking. My juices warm me and drip from me, readying me for his taking. Is it possible to come from a kiss? Jasper takes my mouth as if he’s claiming me.
And I surrender, I give him it all. He could claim my virginity right here in the backseat if he wanted to.
