"Fuck, Jessica." He grabs both my hips pulling me into him. "Baby," his voice comes from a deep and distant place as he throws his head back, his own pleasure surging through him.
Chapter 7
"When can I fuck you again?" His index finger runs a lazy path across my hip bone as we lay on our sides staring at each other.
I reach to push a strand of hair back from his face. "It's called a one night stand for a reason."
The playful tone I tried to convey doesn't register in his expression. "It doesn't have to be a one night stand."
"It does." I pull back from his touch.
"Are you involved with someone?" His brows lift with the question.
"No." I answer quickly. "Are you?"
"If you're not tied down why can't we fuck sometimes?"
The genuine tone of his voice almost makes me break out a chuckle. It's so easy for him. It's obvious by the inflection in his voice that having random sex is a very normal part of his life.
"You have plenty of women to fuck." The words come out much harsher than I intend. "I mean, I'm assuming based on the fact that you live above the club that you fuck women on a very regular basis."
"I don't live here. I fuck here."
"Exactly my point." I manage. "You have a place designated just for fucking. You don't need to have repeats."
He shifts his body away from me. I can tell I've offended him.
"You don't need to explain anything to me." I pull myself into a sitting position on the side of the bed. "We had a lot of fun. I'm not looking for anything else. Let's just shake hands and say goodbye."
"Do you want to fuck me again?" The question is bold, direct and immediately I feel myself getting aroused by its brashness.
"Who wouldn't?" I toss back. "That was amazing."
"So, you come back and we have more fun."
"That's treading on dangerous ground." I stand and start the search for my panties.
"Why?" He reaches over the side of the bed and pulls them from the floor.
"It's not just random sex then, it's something else." I cringe. I wish I had just said a weak yes when he asked if we could sleep together again.
"Not if we both understand the other's expectations."
"What are your expectations?" I ask even though I'm not certain that I want to know the answer.
"I'm fickle," he admits. "I like variety."
I smile at the confession. It was obvious when he first approached me at the club that any interest he might be showing in me would be fleeting.
"I don't want or need complications. I just want to have sex." His tone is calm and direct.
"You make it sound so easy." I laugh. "You have to run into complications. There must be women who become emotionally attached if you fuck them more than once."
"Sometimes." His gaze falls to the bed. "If that happens I end things."
"You use women." My voice doesn't sound like my own. I sound too righteous. Why I am defending any other woman he's slept with in the past?
He recoils slightly at the words. "Did I use you?"
"No," I mutter. "I was very willing."
"If you come back next week, you'll be willing again, right?" He swings his long legs over the bed and stands up. My eyes fall to his groin. Even in a still semi-hard state he's very imposing.
"If I decided to sleep with you again, yes, it would be because I wanted it."
"Then stop worrying about what anyone else feels or thinks." He pulls his boxer briefs on. "I'm very honest with any woman I fuck. They know it's just for that. No strings."
"We won't get attached to each other?" I tilt my head to the side.
"It's a physical relationship." His hands pull on his belt as he does up his pants. "If either of us feels anything emotional, we end it."
"What about others?" I ask. I'm not expecting him to offer me anything exclusive. I just want to understand the boundaries of what he's proposing. Sex with a man like this is all I really need as I build my life in Manhattan. I could get my needs fulfilled without having to date.
"I don't ask and you don't ask." He winks. "It's not either of our business."
"You make it sound so simple." I reach to pull my heels back on.
"It is." He glances at his watch. "Today is Wednesday. You come back here next Wednesday at ten o'clock. I'll be here waiting for you."
I purse my lips considering the proposition.
"No strings?" I ask softly.
"No strings." He nods towards the bed. "Just more of that."
Chapter 8
"So essentially, you two are fuck buddies?" Rebecca whispers from behind her desk in the cubicle where she spends her days working for one of the biggest investment firms in the city.
"I guess." I shrug my shoulders. "I hadn't really labeled it."
"And you're good with him fucking a different woman every night of the week?" She pulls her lips across her teeth in a grimace.
"I'm not going to think about that," I lie. It's all I've thought about since I left Nathan's hotel room last night. Was I really okay with having sex one night a week with a man who was fucking most of Manhattan the other six nights?
"The sex must have been phenomenal for you to agree to that." She rolls her eyes. "I would have just taken what I got and ended it."
"I haven't even decided if I'm going back." Lie number two. I was already craving his touch again and the thought of waiting almost a week to feel his body inside of mine was causing withdrawal. I had to make myself come in the shower this morning just to find the focus I needed for this meeting with Cassandra, Rebecca's boss.
"You can go in now." Rebecca glances at the clock on the wall above her desk. "It's eleven. She should be ready for you."
I scoop up the plate of coconut macaroons I brought with me and knock tentatively on the door to Cassandra's office.
"Come in," she calls from behind the door and I take a steely breath before I turn the knob. Grabbing this job would make my entire life better at this point.
"Hi," I say meekly as I step into her office. I realize that I don't know if I should call her by her first name or Ms. Saunders. We've only met once, very briefly, a few months ago when I was in New York with Josh visiting Rebecca.
"Jess. It's great to see you again." She motions for me to sit in one of the luxurious leather chairs in front of her desk. "You brought me treats?" The wicked smile that crosses her lips makes my heart leap. Maybe Rebecca was right when she said the way to her heart was through her stomach. It was hard to picture given the fact that Cassandra was tall, graceful and could easily have passed for a model.
"Coconut macaroons." I place the small plate down in front of her on the desk.
She picks one up and admires it before popping it into her mouth. "You're hired," she sighs.
I pull my hand to my mouth. "You're kidding, right?"
"With food I never kid." She playfully points her index finger at me. "You're an amazing cook. Rebecca can't shut up about how great your food is."
I laugh at the backhanded compliment. "Cooking is my passion."
"You didn't study it?" The question was expected but I still feel my stomach lurch. This is the point in the interview where I always lose the job. I can't lose this one. Being a private chef was just the right foot in the door I needed. With a good wage I could start saving for culinary school.
"I took a different path and then realized that I couldn't stay out of the kitchen." I want desperately to skirt over the issue. I know I'm a great cook. I know I can do the job. I just need a chance.
"What did you do back in Connecticut?" she asks before devouring another macaroon.
"I was a paramedic."
Her brow shoots up. "So you have medical training and you can cook?"
"I know," I chuckle. "It's perfect for those rare occasions when someone chokes on my cooking."
She laughs. "It's actually perfect for my situation."
"How so?" I feel I'm making headway. This is the first time I've be
en in an interview about a position in the industry when anyone has thought my EMT training was a plus.
"I need a cook mainly for my two kids." She motions to a framed picture on her desk of two small children. "They have a nanny, but she burns water."
I smile. "Boiling water isn't as easy as it looks."
"Apparently not." She finishes the last of the macaroons before she continues, "I want someone who can come in a few times a day, five days a week and prepare meals for the kids."
Being a private chef for pre-schoolers may not have been my optimum choice but it was going to pay my bills and allow me to save for my culinary dreams.
"I love cooking for kids." I'm not sure where those words come from. I've never cooked for a child in my life.
"Occasionally I may need you to work an evening to prepare a dinner for me and any guests I might have, but as a rule, it's just going to be you, the nanny and the kids eating. You'll be on your way home by seven every night."
I just nod in response. I'm so close to grabbing this I can almost taste it.
"Here's the detail sheet I've been handing out to the other applicants." She reaches into her desk drawer and removes one single sheet of white paper. "Salary, benefits, hours and all that jazz is on there."
I glance down briefly and I have to hold back a gasp at the number staring back at me. The weekly stipend is more than I made in a month being an EMT.
"When can you start?" She holds the empty china plate I brought with me in her hand.
"This afternoon." I push myself to my feet.
Chapter 9
"Jesus, Jessica." He pulls a heavy breath through clenched teeth as his hands pull gently on my hair. "Where the fuck did you learn how to suck cock?"
I moan at the words. I haven't been in Nathan's hotel room more than ten minutes and already I'm naked, on my knees with his heavy, beautiful cock in my mouth.
"Like that. Fuck, just like that." He leans back against the couch, his dress shirt still buttoned, his pants hanging open.
I pull him from my mouth before I race my tongue over the crown. My hands circle the root, gliding up and down it as I suck on just the tip.
"Christ," he pants as he grows thicker and wider beneath my touch.
I groan as I'm forced to open my mouth even more. I adjust my knees on the carpet of the floor not caring what I look like. Not minding that my body is on full display. All I want is the reward his body is going to offer to me when he reaches his climax.
"Suck it, baby." He grabs my hair harder, controlling the rhythm.
One of my hands bolt to the couch behind him for stability. He's fucking my mouth so hard. His hips moving in a steady beat. I suck him harder, pulling more and more of him into my mouth.
"You're so good." The words are deep and heavy with desire.
I look up. His long lashes are fluttering closed, his eyes rolled back in his head. I'm giving him exactly what he gave me last week. I want that. I want him to feel that.
I pull my grasp away from the couch and cup his heavy, full balls in my hand. I'm compensated with a pull on my hair.
"You're going to make me come." He thrusts harder into my mouth as I pump the thick vein with my hand.
"Yes," I whisper around his flesh. Yes, please, come. Come for me.
"Stop," he moans. His body trying to pull away from mine. "I'm going to come."
I push harder into him, forcing his cock deeper down my throat. I shake my head slightly. I won't pull back. I need this.
"Fuck," he growls as the first shot of heat hits the back of my throat. I moan at the sensation. I brace myself for more.
He pumps harder as he fills my throat with his desire. I struggle to handle it all. It's so much. I've never done this before. I almost gasp at the sensation but I can't stop. My body won't let me. I'm so aroused and wanting.
He pulls back as he softens slightly in my mouth. I feel his legs trembling. His hand is grabbing the edge of the couch tightly.
I look up and he's staring down at me, a wide grin enveloping his handsome face. I smile back, my tongue slowly gliding over my lips.
"That was…" his voice trails as he pulls his hand to his chest. "That was so intense."
I stand and press my lips to his. "I loved every second of that," I whisper into his kiss. I did. I want him to know that it was just as intense for me. I need to tell him that I can't come back here. That even though I've spent the last week engrossed in my new job, that almost every second I've jumped back to thoughts of him in this hotel room.
"I need to taste you." He pulls me closer. "I have to suck on your clit until you come too."
"No." I run my finger over his jaw, marvelling at how much more handsome he looks with just the hint of stubble on his face. I wonder what he looks like in the morning, after he's slept and he's ready for coffee. I wonder what it's like to fall asleep in his arms. No. I can't wonder.
"I need to go." I reach for the red dress he pulled off of me the moment I walked through the door.
He grabs my wrist in his hand. "You just got here. We have hours."
"I don't." I lie. I do have hours. I could stay here all night if he wanted me to.
"Why are you rushing off?" He glances down and it's as if he suddenly realizes that his semi-hard cock is still hanging outside of his pants. He tucks it in, does up his pants and faces me again.
"I have an early morning meeting." I do. With Allie and Aaron, the kids I make scrambled eggs for every day.
"What's going on?" He pushes a piece of hair back behind my ear before he tilts my chin up to his gaze.
"Nothing," I sigh. I can't tell him that we just shared the most intense and intimate experience I've ever had and the thought of another woman on her knees in this room, doing the very same thing to him, is just too much for me. I know what I agreed to, but my heart hasn't caught up yet.
"I'd like to see you Friday." His lips feather over mine lightly.
"This Friday?" My mind can't connect the dots. He wants to see me again in two days?
"Can you come by Friday night at the same time?" He bends down to retrieve my bra and panties from the floor.
"I'll be here," I say it without thought.
"Perfect." He taps the tip of my nose with his finger before he walks over to the bar to pour himself a drink.
As I pull my clothes back on I try to chase away that nagging voice in the back of my brain that is telling me that he's quickly becoming someone I need.
Chapter 10
"Rebecca said you left your boyfriend when you moved here." Cassandra pours herself a cup of coffee before turning to face me.
"I did." I manage a weak smile as I load the kids' breakfast dishes into the dishwasher. "It wasn't working."
"How long were you together?" She reaches to grab a piece of pineapple from the fruit salad I prepared earlier.
"A few years." I nod towards a bowl. "Do you want me to make you some breakfast?"
She shakes her head. "Was it hard? Leaving him like that?"
"I guess." I shrug my shoulders. "I still care about him. We just weren't a good fit."
"It was like that with my husband too." She reaches for a piece of peach from the salad. "Ex husband," she corrects herself.
"When did you get divorced?" I ask because I've wondered since I started why no one talks about her ex.
"Two years ago." She pulls in a heavy breath. "We fell in love in college and planned this whole elaborate life together. We had the kids quickly. Everything seemed idyllic and then it all fell apart."
"I'm sorry," I offer. I don't know what else to say. I can sympathize with Allie and Aaron. My own parents had divorced when I was a toddler. Their dysfunctional relationship had set the stage for many awkward years of being juggled back and forth between their two houses and their two lives.
"Don't be," she mutters. "It just fell apart. We settled down too young."
"I'm sure it's been hard." I manage a weak grin.
"It has been." She
reaches across the breakfast bar to touch my arm. "Don't rush into anything serious, Jess. I wish I had explored more when I was your age instead of wanting something too serious."
Her words shift through me. Maybe she's right. Maybe I had to stop wanting what I had with Nathan to go anywhere. Maybe I just needed to have fun.
"I'm having more fun now, at thirty-two, than I had when I was twenty," she says, her chin lifting.
"I'm glad." I like this slightly exposed and vulnerable side of Cassandra. Rebecca has only told me stories of what a bitch she can be at work.
"We should hang out sometime."
Her words catch me off guard. "We could," I offer weakly.
"Becky never told you we met at a club?"
I'm not sure if I'm more shocked by the admission or by the fact she called Rebecca by her much-hated nickname.
I stifle a chuckle by biting my lower lip. "She didn't."
"I'll get her to a plan a girl's night out for the three of us. It'll be a hoot."
***
"She actually used the word hoot?"
"Not only that, she called you Becky." I laugh as I pull a towel from the laundry basket and fold it.
"It's like you're talking about another Cassandra, not the one I work for."
"One in the same. Why didn't you tell me you met her at a club?" I reach for another towel, inwardly scowling at the fact that Rebecca is sitting right next to me and can't seem to reach over to help fold our laundry.
"It's not a great story." She gazes down at her hands. "I was so drunk. She helped me in the bathroom."
"How does that translate into a job for you?" I push the basket closer to her, hoping she'll take the hint. I don't want to spend the next thirty minutes folding clean clothes.
`"She was drunk too." She finally reaches for a washcloth. "I told her I needed a job and she told me she'd hire me."
"So bizarre." I laugh loudly. "You score your dream job while you're falling over drunk and I have to fight tooth and nail to get the privilege of cooking macaroni and cheese for two spoiled four-year-olds."
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