by Sofia Grey
Before I could say anything sensible, he slid his hand into my hair, and then huffed a low noise. “It’s as soft as I thought.” He cupped the back of my head and held me there, our gazes locked.
If I was the moth, he was definitely the flame, and any second now, my wings would be scorched. From the way he focused on my mouth, he wanted to kiss me. Nobody had ever looked at me with such a burning intensity, as though I mattered. Doubt roared forward, but I shoved it away. One kiss. I could manage that, without tumbling head over heels for him.
“There’s something I have to tell you.” His voice was husky. “I’m still hung up on what Cindy did, and I promised myself I wouldn’t get involved again. Not for a good long time.”
I wasn’t over Bruce yet, so I understood only too well.
“I’m not looking to be anyone’s boyfriend,” he said.
There was a warning note I couldn’t ignore, but he continued to hold me, caressing the back of my neck with his fingers. What did he want from me?
I never had a no-strings fling before. I’d never been confident enough to undress in front of anyone I wasn’t in love with.
“Caitlin? What do you want?”
He’d only be here for three weeks. If tonight was hideously embarrassing, I could avoid him until he left the country.
“You,” I whispered. “I want you.”
Jasper smiled, and I knew right away I was in bigger trouble than I imagined. Sitting so close to me, his fingers touching my skin, eating me up with his eyes, I was in heaven. I’d spent two days watching him while trying not to be obvious about it, but he’d noticed me too.
“Here’s the thing.” His voice was hypnotic. “Needing to be fit? I totally get that. Exercise is my life, and I’ll help you with that every step of the way. But if you’re talking about getting rid of these”—he swept his knuckles against the curve of my breast, and a shockwave rippled through me—“that’d be criminal. You have to be kidding.”
His intensity seared me deeper than anything Bruce had done. Ever.
“Come here, pretty girl,” he murmured, leaning closer. “Let me kiss you.”
Was saying no ever an option? I wanted to babble about my pathetic sexual history. Twenty-seven years old, and only two boyfriends I’d slept with. A truckload of neuroses and self-doubts. A muted relief that it was dark in here—that he wouldn’t see my flabby body clearly.
Jasper swept his lips against mine, gentle and undemanding, as though asking permission. I hadn’t brushed my teeth since eating curry, but he’d eaten the same. Were there more excuses in my arsenal?
He waited, his breath warm on my cheek, fingertips massaging the base of my neck, and I wanted to laugh with the ridiculousness of the moment. The hottest guy I’d ever met wanted to kiss me. This would be another X-rated dream. I’d wake in a minute and find myself tangled in the sheets, alone as usual.
Fuck it. I meant what I said. I wanted him, and it was time to make that clear.
Mentally crossing my fingers for luck, I covered the scant distance between us and met his lips.
He made a growling noise deep in his throat and took over. With one hand in my hair, he guided me into the perfect position and kissed the fuck out of me. Some guys used kissing as foreplay, a brief stepping stone to getting me undressed, but Jasper was different. He focused on me completely. No grabbing my breasts or clumsy fumbles at the button on my jeans. He raised kissing to an art form.
If he carried on much longer, my panties would combust. When I smelled a waxy, smoky fragrance, I thought they had, but it was one of the tealights dying.
I lifted my head, conscious of two things at once. Most of the candles had gone out, and despite the heat we were generating, the temperature was dropping rapidly.
“Let’s go to bed,” I whispered. I could pretend propositioning a gorgeous guy I only met days ago was normal.
He hummed his approval and nipped at my lower lip, before laving the sting away. “Mind-reading too. This is proof I’m a lucky fucker.”
I couldn’t hold back my giggle. If anyone had struck lucky tonight, it was me. My mind leapt ahead, darting from one thought to another, even as I stood and took his hand, to pull him up.
I blew out the last tealight, grabbed a battery-powered lantern, and then led Jasper into my bedroom.
My room was tidy, no piles of laundry awaiting attention. I even had a new packet of condoms, bought in a surge of optimism when I broke up with Bruce.
Chapter Eighteen
My goal was to strip as quickly as possible and slip under the covers, preferably before Jasper changed his mind about bedding a whale.
He had other ideas. He sat on the bed, tugged me closer, held my face with both hands, and resumed his kiss. God. The man could kiss. He must have felt the moment when I capitulated and relaxed, because he smiled against my lips. “That clever brain of yours is working too hard. Stay with me, Caitlin.”
Even the way he said my name was delicious. He made it sound pretty. Hell, I almost felt pretty. Almost. There was still the matter of my robust-but-ugly bra and non-matching panties. When I dressed this morning, getting laid was the last thing on my mind. I bet his ex always wore matching underwear. Or no underwear at all. And she’d have a Brazilian, while I had a rainforest.
“I wasn’t expecting this,” I blurted, and he paused.
“We don’t have to do anything. If you’ve changed your mind—”
“No. I mean, I haven’t.” I sighed. English was not my friend at the moment. I grabbed my dwindling courage with a sense of desperation. “I want this, Jasper.” I croaked his name and tried again, falling back on blunt honesty. “I don’t want to disappoint you. I don’t think I’m very good at sex.”
An array of emotions flickered over his face, but he continued to gaze into my eyes. “Give me your hand,” he said.
Puzzled, I complied, and he tangled our fingers together.
He guided our linked hands to his crotch and pressed my palm against the zipper of his jeans. Wow. He was hard.
“Does this feel like I’m disappointed?” He spoke in a husky whisper, and my heart melted. “I’m worried about letting you down. You’re not the only one who feels a bit nervous,” he said.
I couldn’t help laughing. “What could you possibly be nervous about?” He raised an eyebrow, but I continued. “You’re fit and sexy and—well—hot.”
“You think I’m hot, huh?” Amusement lined his words. “That’s cool, but you haven’t seen my leg yet. The scars from my accident.”
I scoffed. “I’m not so shallow, to be put off by that.”
“I’m glad. So why d’you think I’d be?” He squeezed my hand where it rested against his jeans. “I’m wearing a brace on my leg, and it’s ugly underneath that. I’m kinda glad the lights are low. You might take one look and run away screaming.
“I wouldn’t.”
“And neither would I. ‘Kay?”
If only it were that easy, but I’d try. I wanted things to be different with Jasper, and that led me to another thought. I was usually the passive one in bed, but tonight I wanted to be an equal partner. And if Jasper was being honest about his nerves, I could reassure him.
I tried a smile. It was wobbly at the edges, but almost there. “Can I see your ink?”
“Which bit?”
My dream roared back in glorious technicolor. He didn’t really have an ivy spiral down to his cock? “Umm... all of it?”
“Sure. But for every piece of clothing I take off, you lose one too.” His grin teased me. “Hey. We came in here for warmth. Not fair for me to get hypothermia, while you stay dressed,” he said.
“You first.”
He nodded, reached behind him, and yanked the T-shirt over his head in that odd way guys do. His arm muscles flexed, and then there was just his bare chest.
His beautiful, toned abs deserved better lighting for me to examine them by. A dark fuzz led down into a very happy trail, and I concentrated on lifting my
gaze, to look at his tattoos. He had monochrome armbands inked around both biceps—maybe a mixture of Celtic and Maori? I looked closer. They were different from each other. Feeling braver, I stroked the patterns in turn, enjoying the feel of his warm skin.
“Do they mean anything?” I asked.
“They’re memorials. My father on the right and Mum on the left.”
I met his gaze. “They’re incredible.”
“Thank you. And now it’s your turn.”
I wore a loose-fitting T-shirt with three small buttons down the front. Playing for time, I unfastened them, and then tugged the fabric up and over my head. I bunched the shirt in my fist and held it in front of me, like a shield, searching Jasper’s face.
He slowly moved my hand away. My shield was gone. Hello, ugly bra. From the thick shoulder-straps to the plain cups, it screamed boring. Utilitarian. No pretty little wisps of silk and lace for me. My definition of designer underwear came from specialist mail-order websites, and I hadn’t ordered any for a long time.
“Mmmm. I likey.” He sounded genuine.
I watched, astonished and excited when he cupped the girls gently and trailed his thumbs over the white fabric. I didn’t have the foresight to wear black, but Jasper didn’t seem to care.
“I need a taste,” he said, lifting his hands to the straps. He slid them down my arms, and then carefully folded the cup fabric down, to reveal my nipples. They were on board with the plan, shamelessly pert and begging for him. I squirmed, impatient. A heartbeat later, he dropped his head and flicked one bud with his tongue. An electric shock zinged through me, but that was nothing to how it felt when he closed his mouth around it.
My nipples were always sensitive, and I was in heaven. A flick, then a rasp of teeth, before licking away the burn. I tangled my fingers in his hair. I needed to hold onto something, otherwise I’d slide off the bed. Jesus. I whimpered from the overload of sheer pleasure a second before he lifted his head and focused his attention on the other bud. I moaned, unable to keep quiet, and Jasper made a humming noise. I felt it through his lips.
Could I come just from this? Was that possible? I wasn’t on familiar terms with orgasms. We’d made acquaintance a couple of times, when I was drunk and forgot to care how I looked, but they usually hovered out of reach. Something skinny girls had regularly.
“Hey. Come back.” Jasper’s words were muffled against my skin. “You overthinking again?”
He was right. He was with me. He wanted me, even if only for tonight. I could either enjoy the moment or second-guess his every touch.
“I’m here,” I said. “And it’s your turn to take something off.”
Chapter Nineteen
I shivered, and Jasper frowned. “Damn. I was joking about the hypothermia. How cold are you?”
“I’m good.” I nudged him with my shoulder. “But you could pick up the pace.”
He’d taken off his boots when we came into my apartment, and now he leaned over and whisked away his socks. “Ta dah!”
Two could play that game. I removed mine too and dropped them onto the carpet. “Next.”
“You have an unusually bossy streak. I like seeing you confident.” He stole a kiss that threatened to unhinge me. “But I need to go slow now.” Holding my gaze throughout, he popped the button on his jeans and slid down the zipper. I saw the outline of his dick in his boxer briefs, but then he began the process of dragging the denim down over his legs.
“Can I help?”
“No. I’m good, thanks.” The thick fabric seemed to catch on something underneath. The brace? He worked his legs clear, and I caught a glimpse of black nylon webbing wrapped tight around his left calf. A shadow crossed his face, visible even in the dim light. “How d’you feel about going on top?”
I hated it. Hated the way my tits jiggled and belly wobbled. I hesitated, and Jasper pulled a face.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’ve got restricted movement, but we can work around it.” He palmed my breasts, and they immediately perked up. “I have this fantasy of you riding me while I play with these, but if that’s not your thing, it’s cool.” He pressed an open-mouthed kiss around each nipple, and I shivered again, this time from delight. “It’s your turn, by the way,” he said.
My turn? Of course. He’d distracted me to the point where I forgot I was still half-dressed. I unfastened my jeans and wriggled out of them, then sat up and sucked in my stomach. It lasted for all of two seconds.
Jasper kissed me, and I forgot everything but the feel of his lips on mine. I didn’t remember lying down, but within moments, we were entwined on the bed.
“If you don’t have a condom, I have one stashed in my wallet,” said Jasper.
“It’s okay. I’ve got this.” I could just reach the bedside drawer, and I grabbed the box I knew to be in there. With a confidence I didn’t feel, I tore away the cellophane and cardboard, and dropped one little packet on the pillow before I put the box away.
“Mm hmm. Where were we?” Jasper cupped my cheeks and kissed me again. “Oh yeah. I think it’s your turn, again. Panties off, please.”
The lantern only cast a dim glow, and he’d seen most of me. I complied. “Now you.”
Holding my gaze, Jasper shoved his boxers down to his thighs, and then further. To save him hurting himself, I helped slide the fabric away, and he lay there wearing only a huge smile.
His dick was hard, a bead of pre-cum clinging to the tip. I leaned forward and swiped my finger through the stickiness, before lifting it to my mouth and sucking it clean.
Jasper groaned. “You’re killin’ me here.” He cupped a hand around my neck and pulled me in, to crash his lips to mine. It was hot and urgent, and all kinds of needy. I felt wanted. Desired. Self-consciousness flew out of the window, and I reveled in the feel of his hands on my skin and his tongue in my mouth.
I didn’t want to wait. I tore open the condom packet with unsteady fingers and gave the rubber to Jasper. It was the work of moments, and I straddled him where he lay on the bed, cock in his fist.
“Caitlin,” he whispered. “You are fucking gorgeous.”
In that moment, I felt it. I pushed down hard onto him, and gasped at the sensation of him filling me so thoroughly. I leaned forward to rake my teeth across his lower lip. “You’re gorgeous too.”
Jasper made a noise somewhere between a laugh and a groan. He held my hips and lifted me higher, sliding almost to the tip before I drove down again, taking it all in one slick movement. I rode him, but even while I was on top, he took control back. He caught my hands and placed them on my breasts, cupping them together. “You are beyond hot when you do that,” he whispered. “So fuckin’ sexy.”
I didn’t care that they jiggled with each move. Jasper liked them.
He watched me through half-lidded eyes, a look of fierce concentration on his face. When he slipped one hand between my legs and fingered my clit, I cried out. When I came, it was like a nuclear explosion—from nowhere to a million degrees, in the blink of an eye. Sweet Jesus, it was mind-blowing.
Jasper rode the storm, held off until my spasms finished, and then exploded into me with a muffled cry of his own.
That, I thought, as I came back to earth. That’s what sex is all about.
Chapter Twenty
I didn’t want to go to sleep. Lying in bed, Jasper wrapped around me, I decided I was a cuddler after all. Bruce always grumbled that he needed his cool space when we slept together. Maybe that was a metaphor for something else? And why the hell was I thinking about Bruce?
I drifted off with the sound of Jasper’s breathing in my ear and the feel of his hand cupping my breast. He was here for three more weeks and I intended to enjoy them.
I awoke to sunlight on my face and the sound of my cellphone chiming with a message. Jasper slept beside me, face down in the pillow, arms stretched out. A bed hog, but the sexiest one to ever share mine. I still wanted to hug myself with glee.
Focus, Caitlin. I opened the text
from Deanna and scanned the contents. She’d sent me a link to another property worth looking at, and only listed today. Decent part of town, price a little higher than I was comfortable with, but available immediately. I needed to call the agent, but I wanted some clothes on first. I grabbed clean panties and T-shirt, and diverted into the bathroom.
Jasper didn’t move when I returned to the bedroom, so I grabbed my phone and left him sleeping.
Perched on a stool at the kitchen counter, I called the realtor and left a voicemail, requesting to view the property this morning. It was only eight o’clock. They probably weren’t open yet.
The electricity had been restored at some point, and that meant I could make coffee.
I paced while I waited for the kettle to boil. There was nothing I could do until the agent called back. Nothing to stop me making coffee and taking it back to bed, to share with my lover. Wow. I didn’t dream the whole thing, did I? Nope. The pleasant ache between my thighs was testament to that.
I poured hot water onto the coffee grains, stirred the mixture, and while it brewed, dug out mugs and a jar of dark-brown sugar. With enough sweetness, I could overlook the lack of milk.
With two mugs in hand, I went back to the bedroom, fully expecting to see Jasper still asleep. I could kiss my way down his spine to wake him.
Or not. He sat on the edge of the bed. Fully dressed.
He snapped his gaze toward me. There was no mistaking the guilty look in his eyes or the firm set of his lips.
“Hi.” I gave him my brightest smile. “Coffee? The power’s back on. I haven’t checked the news yet, so I don’t know if the slip has been cleared.”
Babbling wasn’t attractive, but he made no move to interrupt. He seemed to be fascinated by his watch strap, loosening it and then fastening it again. “Thanks.”
My heart thudded. This wasn’t how the morning was supposed to play out. “How’s your leg? Do you need more painkillers?”
