Pleasure for Pleasure

by Jamie Sobrato

  “I’d hoped we could take this slow, since I seem to have a problem with rushing into sex.”

  Slow? He wanted to take it slow? Josie wasn’t sure she could survive taking it slow. She wasn’t sure her shower head could survive.

  “But how will I be able to tailor my lessons to your needs, unless I have a complete picture of what your needs are?” There, he couldn’t argue with that.

  He quirked one eyebrow. “Good point. Okay, I suppose a little kissing won’t hurt.”

  Trent was only inches from her now. That familiar old panic filled her chest, stopped her breathing, froze her in place.

  Reality set in. She couldn’t kiss Trent, because kissing would lead to so much more. More than she was ready to handle. Not with him. She’d lose control, lose herself, he was too sexy, too gorgeous, too everything…

  But he had said his girlfriends always left him after they slept together. He wanted her help because he was a boring lover, not a scorching one.

  She reached out tentatively and slipped her arms around his neck. Stood on her tiptoes and tilted her face back, bringing her mouth to his. He pulled her close as he settled his lips on hers, and they began to taste, to explore.

  He smelled freshly showered, which made her wonder for a moment if he’d had the same kind of shower she’d had, but then the sensation of his lips on hers overtook her and her mind went blank. His tongue caressed hers, coaxing her slowly but surely into a kiss that could burn the fog off of the San Francisco Bay.

  Wow. He was a much better kisser than she remembered. She was just settling in to fully enjoy it when he pulled away, took a step back.

  “How was that?”

  Josie snapped her mouth shut and blinked, struggling to remember what he might be talking about. “Your technique seems quite satisfactory to me. You’ve had complaints about your kissing?”

  He shrugged, looking a little embarrassed. She realized she’d have to tread very carefully for the next two months not to step on his ego.

  “Not the kissing, no. But I haven’t had any rave reviews, either.”

  Josie frowned, doing her best to consider the issue academically when her body was screaming for sex. “There’s always room for improvement. And in my experience, practicing is really the best way to improve.”

  “I’m willing to try anything.”

  Ah, good. An eager student was just what she needed right now.

  “I suppose we should talk about the right timing for a kiss, before we really get into the practicing.” She took a seat on the couch and motioned for him to do the same.

  “You mean, how early on a date?”

  “Not just that, but how frequently during lovemaking. Kissing is an extremely sensual experience for a woman, just as intimate a form of contact as sexual intercourse.” She resisted the urge to glance at her folder full of notes.

  “So when’s the right time for a first kiss?”

  “That really depends on the woman, how well you’re hitting it off with her, how strong the physical attraction.”

  His gaze swept over her briefly. “Take us, for instance. Assuming we hadn’t just kissed, how soon do you think would be appropriate for us?”

  “That’s a tough call, since we’ve known each other forever, and we’re not really on a date now.”

  “But we’re attracted to each other, aren’t we?”

  Josie shifted in her seat. This was even harder than she’d imagined. He was a student asking too many questions, the bane of every ill-prepared teacher’s existence. “Yes, I’d say there’s some attraction, but I think we should keep our relationship strictly on a student-teacher level.”

  He shrugged. “Whatever suits you.”

  “I hope, by the end of our lessons, you’ll have developed a sixth sense about the timing of such things.” She swallowed, the taste of Trent still lingering, reminding her of what she really wanted to be doing now. “What you need is practice, lots of practice.”

  “So is that all we’re going to do tonight? Kiss?”

  “N-no,” Josie stuttered., “I’d like to get a full assessment of your current skill level.”

  “You mean, like a standardized test?”

  Josie bit her lip and held back a grin. “I guess you could call it a test, but it won’t be multiple choice.”

  “I wish you’d let me know ahead of time that I’d be tested, so I could have prepared.”

  “No preparation necessary. This isn’t the kind of exam you can study for.”

  She felt his gaze follow her as she leaned down and unbuckled the ankle strap of one sandal, then the other. She slipped her feet out slowly, hoping her actions looked seductive and not merely routine. From her vantage point, she took note that his own feet, already bare, were strong and tanned and sexy enough to kiss.

  If she were so inclined. Which she wasn’t. No, she wasn’t desperate enough to develop a foot fetish.

  Not yet anyway.

  Trent cleared his throat, and Josie sat up, a little embarrassed that she’d been ogling his feet.

  “Do you want to do it right here on the couch, or in the bedroom?” he asked.

  “Where would you normally bring a woman?”

  “Depends on what the night calls for. Sometimes things heat up so fast we don’t even make it into the house, other times we make it to the floor inside the front door, or on the couch, or the table, or the bathroom, or the bed—”

  “I get the picture.” This situation had the distinct disadvantage of requiring her to discuss with Trent his having sex with other women.

  “With you, I know from experience things can heat up fast,” he said.

  And fizzle out just as quickly? No, let’s don’t start talking about the past. Nothing would ruin Josie’s chances of getting laid faster than them getting into a debate about her ditching him at Ocean Beach.

  “How about you take me through your standard sexual encounter, step by step?”

  “Don’t you think that’ll kill any chance it has of being hot, if I’m talking the whole time?”

  “Hmm, good point. How about you make it sexy talk? Could you do that?”

  Trent grinned. “I think I can manage.”

  “Okay, start with this scenario. You and I have just returned from dinner. We’ve known each other for a couple of weeks, and this is our second date. The first one went well, but I wasn’t interested in anything more than a kiss at the door. Tonight, you’ve invited me up to your place for drinks, and I’ve been receptive, leading you to believe that we’ll have sex.”

  “You wouldn’t be playing the tease, would you?”

  “Of course not.” Josie shifted her gaze to the wall, wishing he hadn’t brought that up. She deserved the label he’d given her, but tonight that was going to change.

  It had to change before she went cross-eyed and started growing hair on her palms. Or was that only supposed to happen to guys?

  “Then, I’d have to move a little closer to you on the couch, like this.” He scooted over until his hip pressed against hers, and the closeness sent a little jolt to her groin.

  “Okay, what next?”

  “Guess I’d have to ask you if you’re thirsty, since I did invite you up for drinks.”

  She looked at him from the corner of her eye. “I was hoping you’d used drinks as an excuse to get me here and have your way with me.”

  “Do I look like that kind of guy?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “In that case, I’ll have to take things nice and slow. Show you what a gentleman I really am.”

  No, no. Please not nice and slow. She flashed what she hoped was a wicked smile. “I’m not interested in gentlemen.”

  “No?” He looked stumped.

  Josie took that opportunity to pounce. Literally. She turned and sat herself down right on top of his lap, straddling him, with her dress pushed up her thighs farther than she’d anticipated. An inch higher and he’d be able to tell what color panties she was wearing.

>   “I thought I was leading here.”

  “Since this is our hypothetical date, I figured it wouldn’t hurt for me to throw you a hypothetical curve ball,” Josie said.

  She shifted her weight forward a bit, and suddenly there was friction between her legs from him. He was pressed against her, so close. His own body was responding, too, she could tell by the growing hardness she felt beneath his jeans. Her insides began to overheat, then melt.

  But then that old familiar feeling of dread filled her abdomen, and sweat broke out on her upper lip. She froze, suddenly unsure if she could really go through with what she’d started.

  He nodded at her position on his lap. “This isn’t hypothetical.”

  “Oh, right. But you can still show me what you’d do next.”

  “I guess I’d have to slide my hand up your dress, to see if the rest of you feels as fine as your thigh does.”

  Josie looked down and saw that his left hand was indeed resting on her thigh. He slowly slid it upward, turning her skin to gooseflesh, until it disappeared under her dress. He paused at her hip and his fingers dipped under the edge of her panties. Oh, so close. Then he stopped, and Josie thought she might scream.

  The muscles in her legs twitched, itching to flee.

  “This is all wrong,” he said.

  “What?”

  “This. You and me. We can’t just hop into bed for our first lesson.”

  “I am supposed to be teaching you how to improve your sex life, right?” And teach she would, if he’d just move his hand a little to the right.

  “Not like this.” His hand started to move in the wrong direction, back down her thigh.

  “Think of it as an assessment. I can’t teach you unless I know your current skill level.”

  Trent shook his head. “Let’s do this right, take it slow.”

  No, he couldn’t be saying what she thought he was saying. She was so close, so ready, so desperate to end this dry spell. And she didn’t intend her next orgasm to be alone in the shower. It was going to be with Trent, and it was going to be tonight—or was it? The urge to run again was so strong, almost as strong as the urge to get it on. The two forces were battling in her gut, and now with Trent providing such an easy out, her cowardly side was gaining strength.

  Could she stay and do the wild thing, or would she just run away again? Josie closed her eyes. When she opened them and caught the way Trent had been watching her when he’d thought she wasn’t looking, she knew exactly what she had to do.

  4

  TRENT WISHED like hell he hadn’t chosen to wear jeans tonight, and especially not such a snug-fitting pair. He had a hard-on that was threatening to burst his zipper, and the lack of room for it was proving damned uncomfortable.

  He had to get Josie off his lap. Otherwise his plan would be shot. He’d toss it aside in favor of ripping off her dress and making love to her right there on the living room rug. The look of determination in her eyes was downright hypnotic.

  And then he felt his zipper slide down.

  “Hold it right there,” he said as steadily as he could.

  “That’s exactly what I intend to do,” she whispered with a little smile.

  “I mean, stop. We’re not doing this. I don’t even have protection,” he lied.

  “No problem. There’s a box of condoms in my bag.”

  Damn modern women.

  Trent grasped Josie by the waist and lifted her off his lap, then stood and zipped up his jeans. Sweat trickled down the back of his neck. Josie stared up at him, her coffee-brown eyes round and wide.

  This wasn’t exactly the temptation game he’d had in mind for tonight. He needed a few minutes to cool off, to regain control.

  Josie flashed a wicked smile, then stood up next to him. Her left hand slipped behind her back. Before Trent realized what she was doing, she shrugged the dress off her shoulders and it slid to the floor, forming a puddle at her feet.

  But it wasn’t her feet he noticed right now. Oh, no. This woman had the power to defeat Superman. Her breasts sat perched in a frilly white push-up bra, the smooth upper halves exposed. It was an offer so tempting he could hardly refuse. And below that a silken stretch of belly led down to a matching pair of white lace panties that allowed a hint of color to show through.

  Her hips, the firmly rounded kind found in center-folds, led to a pair of legs he desperately wanted wrapped around him.

  Trent clenched his jaw tight, channeling Superman’s strength. He wouldn’t be defeated.

  He just needed to stay focused on his reason for wanting revenge. He needed to remember Ocean Beach….

  Before she’d driven off with his underwear, Trent had been thinking maybe Josie was a woman he could settle down with for a few years, have a real relationship with. But those feelings had disappeared the moment she proved she was incapable of having a serious sexual encounter with a man.

  “I’ve got to tell you, you’re not exactly acing your test right now,” Josie said.

  Her gaze remained locked on him as she reached behind her back again and her bra suddenly snapped loose. Next she eased one bra strap, then the other, off her shoulders. When she dropped her arms, the bra fell to the floor on top of her dress.

  The sweat spread to his forehead, his upper lip. Damn, it was getting hot in this apartment.

  What ever happened to Josie the Tease?

  “Your examination methods are questionable at best.”

  She shrugged, standing almost completely naked in front of him, trying to look undaunted. The hint of color in her cheeks revealed otherwise.

  “Challenging students call for unconventional teaching methods,” she said almost too casually.

  He had to do something, quick.

  “It’s hot in here, don’t you think?” Trent turned and went to the kitchen. Opened the freezer and removed a tray of ice. Cracked it into an empty bowl.

  “I’m fine,” she said, following him.

  He was hyperaware of her every move, and it took all his willpower not to turn and watch how her nearly naked body moved as she walked.

  “You sure? You were just looking a little flushed.”

  What he wanted was to dump the bowl of ice into his boxers, but now was his chance to demonstrate to himself that his self-control was intact. She stood only inches away from him, leaning against the counter.

  Josie eyed the bowl of ice. “What are you going to do with that?”

  “I’m burning up, and I thought you might be interested in seeing what I can do with an ice cube.” He grabbed her wrist before she could slip away, then pinned her against the kitchen counter with his hips.

  If she wanted to play games, he was more than willing to play along.

  “Oh,” she said.

  He took a cube from the bowl and licked it, then lowered the ice to her left nipple. On contact her nipple hardened and she gasped softly. He traced one edge of it up the slope of her chest, then along her collarbone to the other side, and down that breast to the other erect nipple.

  “Cool enough to put your clothes back on yet?”

  Josie closed her eyes and let her head fall back, arching her breast toward him. “No, I’m feeling fine,” she whispered. He could feel his self-control slipping. The tension strained him until his hand shook.

  He stepped back and let the ice cube travel lower, along her rib cage, then down the center of her belly to her navel, where he traced a wet circle. She contracted her stomach muscles against the cold, but still she stood her ground, seeming to enjoy his torture.

  It was getting even hotter in this cramped little kitchen. Even with the windows open to the night air, Trent could feel his shirt growing damp from perspiration. Maybe he was starting to drive her crazy, too, though. Her breathing had gotten shallow, and she kept arching her breasts ever so slightly toward him.

  What he would have given to take each round breast into his mouth. Instead, he slid his hand with the ice cube over her panties, down between her legs, whe
re he settled it into that hottest part of her.

  Josie gasped, but she must not have been turned off by the cold, because instead of flinching away she pushed herself up onto the counter. Her lush rear end rested on the cold granite, and she spread her legs wide. It was the most tempting invitation he’d ever received.

  Sweet heaven.

  Trent closed his eyes, steeling himself. He was turning her on as planned, and he couldn’t blow it now.

  He applied pressure between her legs with the ice cube, then began a slow, circular rhythm, letting it combine with the friction of her panties against her most sensitive spot.

  She expelled a ragged moan. “Your score’s getting higher by the minute.”

  The ice cube was quickly melting away to nothing against her heat. Trent grabbed another from the bowl to replace the melting one in his hand. He dared to let his other hand travel up Josie’s belly to the curve of her breast. He applied a soft pressure to her nipple, and she moaned again.

  Trent groaned inwardly. Damn. Damn, damn, damn. This was a lot harder than he’d imagined. But Josie was nearing climax fast. His torture was almost over.

  He quickened the friction between her legs, gave her a bit more pressure, until she’d climbed just to the edge. He could tell by her quickened breathing, the tenseness of her body, that she was about to come.

  She was on the brink. And that’s when he stopped. Summoning all his strength, he stepped away from her, then took the half-melted ice cube and rubbed it on the back of his neck, cooling himself hardly at all.

  “W-what are you doing?”

  He produced his most contrite, pained expression, then raked a hand through his hair for effect. “This is all wrong. We shouldn’t be getting carried away so fast. I’m sorry.”

  She expelled a sound halfway between a growl and a screech. “You can’t be serious.”

  “I just want to do this right.”

  He willed himself not to look at her small brown nipples, still contracted to hard points. But instead his gaze fell on the little wisps of hair around her face, and it took all his remaining willpower not to reach out and tuck those wild strands behind her ear, then kiss away her frustration.