Crave

by Z. L. Arkadie

  “Mm-hmm,” I said, nodding erratically, and took a sip of wine.

  “So, here’s what I want to know,” he said, smiling smugly. I was positive Jamison knew he was getting me all hot and bothered.

  I took another drink of wine. “Hm?”

  He smirked. “I’m a busy man, but my cell phone doesn’t ring nearly as much as yours.”

  On cue, my attention snapped to my device as it rang while sitting on top of the table. We laughed at the strange coincidence. I looked to see who was calling and then picked up my cell phone.

  I raised a finger. “I’m sorry, Jamison. Could you give me a moment?”

  Grinning, he nodded. The way he wasn’t a dick about me taking a call in the middle of our dinner made me want him even more. I knew my skin was flushed, but I couldn’t help that.

  “Hey,” I said, curling away from Jamison for privacy.

  It was Alana, one of my assistants. In a frantic rush, she told me that they couldn't fly out of New York that night because the storm had blown in faster than forecasted. “It’s really bad, Bryn. Alex and I think we should just get home while we still can and wait this one out.”

  I nodded feverishly. “I agree. Eden and I have plenty to do tomorrow. If I need you for something, I’ll call you, but for now, get home. We’ll stay in touch.”

  “Thanks. Love you.”

  “Love you too,” I replied.

  I ended the call and then faced Jamison, who was frowning. “You love Alan?” I detected regret in his tone.

  I chuckled and rolled my eyes. “You mean Alana, my assistant?” I explained the weather conditions to him and how I’d been expecting Alana and Alex that night.

  “Then you’ll be alone tonight?” he asked.

  My mouth opened, but nothing came out, because my brain was experiencing a traffic jam. I wanted to say yes or maybe no. Fortunately, Brent arrived at our table with our entrées. My plate hit the table, and I wasted no time plopping a hot, crispy, delicious truffle fry into my mouth. After one went in, then went another and another. Brent poured more wine for me and Jamison. I bit into the sweet bun with tasty cheese, sautéed onions, and savory meat. My body became more satiated with each bite.

  “Then you were hungry?” Jamison asked.

  I paused and paid attention to myself. My posture was slumped, and I’d been tearing into my food like a lion with a fresh kill. Laughing, I sat up straight. “Yeah, I was.” I took another bite of burger.

  He watched me with an adoring smile. My heart, mind, and sex loved the way he looked at me. “Remember the dinner at your brother’s house?”

  I nodded, putting another fry into my mouth.

  “The food was good,” he said.

  “Yep.”

  “You enjoyed it.”

  “I did.”

  “It was so damn sexy.”

  I stopped midchew. Our gazes penetrated each other. There was no doubt about it—we’d gotten to the point of no return.

  Jamison tapped on the table and then abruptly leaned toward me. “I didn’t get a room because you have a two-bedroom suite,” he whispered, his gaze penetrating me.

  I cleared my throat, smirking. “Poor Kara at the front desk. She didn’t even know what hit her.”

  Jamison chuckled. “I’m just a man who knows how to get the information I need.”

  I narrowed my eyes seductively. “And what you want?”

  His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “Bryn?” He sounded out of breath.

  I leaned toward him. “Jamison?”

  “How about we take all of this to go?”

  The stillness and silence between us reigned. My pussy throbbed, and my nipples stiffened, both responses making me squirm in my chair. If we let our guard down and got it on, I would be choosing to bed Jamison despite his father and my brothers.

  My head felt as if it was floating to the ceiling when I made my final decision. “And you don’t have a girlfriend or anything?”

  His focus on me remained steady, deep. “No, beautiful. Not yet.”

  Chapter Eight

  Bryn Christmas

  Brent arranged to have room service bring our dinner and another bottle of wine to my suite. Being the perfect gentleman that he was, Jamison carried my briefcase and slung my purse over his shoulder as we walked to the elevator. I’d never had a guy carry my purse. The very small, considerate gesture made me feel taken care of in a gentler way. My heart loved it. I liked him. I could no longer ignore that fact.

  With Jamison standing so close to my backside, I could feel the heat coming off him. He reached around me to push the elevator button. The doors opened, and my head maintained the wooziness as, with his strong fingers cradling my waist, we stepped inside.

  “The sixth floor?” he asked, his breath warming the back of my neck and his voice thickened by lust.

  I swallowed. Unable to speak, I nodded. My body remained caught in suspense as I kept my eyes on the floor. I heard Jamison pressing the button and the briefcase hitting the linoleum. His hands seized my hips and guided me against all the firm parts of him. I stifled a gasp, tossing my head back against his broad chest. All my defenses and inhibitions were so distant it was as if they’d never existed.

  “Yeah, dude, that was gnarly,” a guy said followed by the sound of the doors reopening.

  Regaining a little bit of my willpower, I turned to face Jamison. Our melded gazes didn’t allow me to be cordial to our new arrivals. The longer I looked at Jamison, the more euphoric I felt. Then he trailed a finger down the side of my face. I closed my eyes and tilted my head back to drink in the sensations.

  “Yeah, the powder is pristine.” I could hear the nervousness in the second voice.

  “Right… yeah.” The first guy sounded just as anxious.

  Unfortunately, they’d walked in on a heated moment that couldn’t be extinguished. I was certain our raw sexual desire for each other thickened the air. The elevator remained silent. My heart pounded, and fluttering sensations ignited in my belly. The elevator dinged. The doors slid open, and the people who were enclosed with us were out in a flash.

  We only had one more floor to go. Jamison tugged me against his rock-hard body, and then his warm, delicious tongue was rounding mine. We breathed heavily against each other’s mouths as our kissing turned more intense. I ran my fingers through his neat but windswept hair, and he did the same with mine.

  “You’re so…” Our greedy kissing wouldn’t let him finish whatever he was going to say.

  His stiff chest and cock against me and his strong arms wrapping around me made me want to burst into flames. It had been so long since I’d been that close to a man that I’d forgotten what unadulterated sexual desire felt like. Not even the loud ding could bring me back to my senses.

  Jamison ended our kiss by dragging my lower lip between his teeth and then whispered, “Let’s go.”

  I fell fully under his spell when he picked up my briefcase and took my hand, our fingers interlaced. There was nothing left to say, no small talk to be had. I knew what came next. I let myself glance down at his package just to make sure I was right about my assumption. Holy shit. Jamison’s crotch was so swollen. I was so wet. There was no turning back.

  We made it to the door of my suite, and Jamison handed me my purse. “The key,” he said without lessening his deep and prolonged eye contact.

  Gosh, he is so sexy. I hated looking away, but I had to so that I could fumble my keycard out of my wallet with shaky fingers. I almost lost it when Jamison pressed himself against me, laying soft, wet kisses on the side of my neck. My knees felt weak as the door beeped. He reached around me to turn the knob.

  Unable to control my desire, I rotated to face him. Our lips mashed against each other. Next, tongues. My fingers tousled his hair. He bunched up my hair, pressing my mouth harder against his. Panting, tasting, Jamison lifted my feet off the ground. The door slammed closed.

  We’re inside.

  Clink.

&
nbsp; Clomp.

  Heavy breathing.

  Smacking.

  His tongue swirling around mine.

  Suction.

  My back hitting the sofa.

  His heaviness on top of me.

  His cock rubbing against my pussy, letting me know what it craves.

  Knock. Knock. Knock.

  “Room service.”

  “Shit,” Jamison said against my mouth. “I’ll get it.”

  As soon as he got up, I got up too.

  “In the bedroom,” I said and trotted up the hallway before he could object.

  Holy shit. My body was trembling when I made it to the bedroom. Shaking, I plopped down on the foot of the bed, running my fingers through my hair and then over my breasts. My nipples were hard as pebbles. My desire for Jamison was too overwhelming, and I needed to control it, especially since there was something I needed to remember.

  What is it?

  I sprang to my feet when I heard Jamison say, “Put that in the kitchen with my bag over there.”

  My panties!

  Jamison continued whatever conversation he was having with room service. It sounded as if he was talking to more than one person. I had seconds to get my comfortable granny panties off.

  I pushed my jeans down and stomped out of them. Next came the pale-pink cotton panties. “Shit.” The crotch was soaked.

  I tugged my sweater off over my head and then my T-shirt. Then off came my full-coverage, bland white bra. Jamison said final goodbyes to the guys in the other room.

  “Oh no,” I whispered and kicked my unsexy underwear under the bed then climbed on the bed and stretched out on my side, head resting on my palm, torso twisted, hip high, and toes pointed—a total come-get-it pose.

  Jamison’s footsteps came to a halt when he stopped in the doorway. “Shit,” he whispered, his eyes drinking me in. “Don’t move.” He darted over to the nightstand and set a box of extra-large condoms on top of it. My pussy shuddered as I remembered that they were the right size for his magnificent cock.

  “That’s pretty presumptuous,” I joked. I was more nervous than I’d been a second before.

  Jamison chuckled as he snatched his sweater off over his head and then his T-shirt, revealing his bare chest, which only had a sparse amount of hair on it.

  That’s sexy.

  “I arranged a box,” he said.

  I had no snappy comeback. Instead, my breathing quickened as he pushed down his trousers then undies, and his enormous erection sprang up, tilting toward his stomach.

  Jamison appeared dazed as his eyes explored my body, starting at my shaved pussy then moving up to my face. He licked his lower lip and then grabbed his manhood. “I’ve been dreaming about this,” he whispered.

  I swallowed and was so excited that I mashed my thighs together, squirming. I released a sigh, feeling a surge of pleasure race through my pussy. He hadn’t even put his hands on me yet, and he was driving me wild.

  He muttered a sentence that contained a lot of fucks and shits as he attacked the box of condoms, ripping the cardboard. Then he tore one off the attached roll of ten. I flipped onto my back, sucking air as he rolled the rubber onto his dick. Jamison grasped my knee. Our eyes remained locked.

  Here he comes.

  Jamison Cox

  I’m standing on my knees between her legs. My breathing is all over the place as I stare at her fuzzy mound. I need a moment. If I go in now, I’ll blow. But the heat rising from the insides of her thighs and her pussy is driving me crazy.

  I swallow the moisture pouring into my mouth. I want to taste what I’m looking at, but I want to fuck it more. But first, I’ll touch it.

  I slide a finger up and down her slit. Her sexy lips part, and her pretty face shows how much she likes what I’m doing. The suppleness around her firm clit drives me wild. I want it in my mouth. But later… I’ll taste it later.

  “Mmm…” she moans, squirming, as my thumb rounds her knob and fingers sink into her hot, wet pussy. She’s so goddamn receptive. So ready. “Ahh…” Her pelvis tenses as her hips rise to my fingers. Bryn’s eyes close, the skin between her eyes pinched. Her mouth opens, soft, sexy lips ripe for kissing.

  I rub. Around. Faster.

  “Jam…” she cries and then sucks her lower lip.

  Shit.

  “Oh… ha!” she cries out, and her thighs quiver.

  “Shit.” I’m beyond hard. I can’t take it anymore. “Oh yeah…” I snatch her by her thighs, separating them and slamming my cock deep inside her.

  “Oh…” Her pussy grips my dick. “Damn.”

  I shiver as my cock pumps in and out of her. I don’t want to shiver, but I can’t stop. Shit.

  Her hands brush up and down my back. Her breaths waft against my ear. Every thrust sends billows of pleasure through my dick. I’m too overstimulated.

  I’m going to come, though…

  Shit.

  I close my eyes and concentrate on stopping my release. “Fuck,” I mutter and pin her to the bed, holding her hips still.

  It makes it harder when she touches me that way. But that doesn’t stop me from feeling her warm, soft body. Her sexy tenderness gets me excited, too, but I can’t do anything to get a reprieve from that part of her. It’s her soul, her spirit, her being. And then she moans into my ear and whispers, “You feel so good.”

  Shit…

  I ram my cock deep into her pussy then surge in and out. I see white light as a fucking orgasm seizes my cock. “O-O-Oh!” I call, my lower half convulsing because it feels too damn good. “Bryn,” I whisper when it’s over, and I don’t want it to end.

  Bryn Christmas

  We remained motionless. Jamison was still on top of me, inside me. Our hearts beat hard against each of our chests. Our heavy breathing needed time to calm.

  “That was amazing,” I said.

  It was actually better than amazing. Our sex was spiritual, life altering, the sort of lovemaking that marked the beginning of a couple’s forever. But I couldn’t say that out loud.

  Jamison’s lips sought and found mine and led me into deep, soul-rousing kissing. We rolled all over the sheets, messing them up. His scent of citrus, vanilla, soap, and raw masculinity made me hornier. Without our mouths breaking apart, Jamison rolled me on top of him.

  I tossed my head back, releasing a long sigh when he gripped my torso to lift my right breast to his mouth. The erotic sensations of his soft, wet, warm tongue and the gentle nibbling of his teeth sent sizzling pleasure through my womanhood.

  I had no idea if he was building a new erection, but I squeezed my pussy around his manhood and raised my hips, searching for…

  “Ah…” Orgasm streaked through my pussy.

  Jamison’s dick stretched me. He’d risen again, his cock gliding in and out of me.

  Back arched, head back, eyes expanded, staring at the ceiling and caught in wonderful euphoria, I sighed.

  Round two.

  Later, I lay with my head resting on Jamison’s broad chest. I could hear his heartbeat, and whenever he spoke, it sounded as if his voice was magnified. I clung to him because I chose not to think about the consequences of what we’d just done. The first time Jamison and I made love, I noted that it was different than any other sex I’d ever had. Granted, I’d only had a handful of sex partners in my life, but I’d been pounded by guys who’d wanted me so much they orgasmed within a minute. I’d engaged in clawing, biting, ravishing-each-other, down-and-dirty sex. But after the second time with Jamison, I could honestly conclude that the soulful sensation that had occurred when we first made love hadn’t been a one-time thing.

  While rubbing my shoulder, Jamison kissed the top of my head and then planted a delicately deep kiss on my forehead, even using a small amount of tongue.

  “Now what?” he asked.

  “Meaning?”

  “What are we going to do next?”

  I sighed. “Well… I have a lot of work to do, and I’m on a tight deadline. My assistants
are delayed, so that’s going to set me back…”

  “Hey, how about I be your assistant for tomorrow?” Jamison said.

  I chuckled.

  “I’m serious, Bryn. I’ll do whatever you want. Coffee run, sex—you name it, I’ll do it.”

  Parading Jamison in Dale’s face would be the best revenge. Jamison was the kind of man Dale thought he should be but was too screwed up to ever become. Dale was the classic American tragedy. He had a critical father, Jim, who he could never please even after spending most of his life trying to do just that. Dale attended Harvard, graduated at the bottom of his class, and then clerked for Judge Herbert Nylander, all to make Jim happy. It didn’t work. Jim put him down even more. Dale’s mother, Loriann, had always been too busy making sure the insufferable perpetual-asshole Jim was happy and still paying attention to her.

  Setting aside thoughts of Dale, I asked Jamison if Boomer was expecting him in the office in the morning, and he went silent. I waited for him to say something.

  “Randolph Christmas has been dead for how long? Six years?” he finally asked.

  I raised my head to look into his eyes. “About seven years. Why do ask?”

  Jamison wrapped his arms around me, our bodies readjusting until he was behind me, sliding his dick between my thighs and against my opening. “Damn, you’re so wet.” He sighed.

  Tickling sensations trailed through my nipples and activated the nerves through my sex. “Then what are you waiting for?” I whispered.

  “Babe, I want to fuck you nonstop. But I need breaks or else.”

  I chuckled. “Or else?”

  “Or else I’ll run out of steam and…”

  Jamison went silent. I could have urged him to finish whatever he was going to say, but I already knew what came next. He would run out of steam, and that would be it—we would be done.

  “But why did you ask about Randolph?” I asked in an attempt to change the subject.

  “I think…” He sighed, rubbing his burgeoning erection against my slit.