Six of Hearts
Page 18
He hums as he kisses me, possesses me with his mouth. The sound vibrates low in my belly. When he breaks the kiss a moment later and pulls back, he looks down and swears profusely. I follow his gaze to see my towel’s fallen open and I’m 100-percent, no-holds-barred naked.
His mouth goes to my neck, licking and sucking, sending shivers down my back that culminate at the base of my spine. I could come again just from that.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs into my skin, and my heart stops. No one’s ever called me beautiful before. I’ve had pretty (from Dad), but not beautiful. Hell, I’ve never really felt beautiful until this moment, with his mouth on me, making my every pore come alive. One hand teases my nipple, the other moulding my hip.
“Hold onto the bed frame,” he says past a groan.
“W-what?” I ask, hardly able to form the word, I’m so lost to him.
He clears his throat, his eyes blazing into mine. Instead of elaborating, he takes both my wrists into his hands, raising my arms and wrapping my fingers around the wooden bars at the top of my bed.
Oh. Now I get it.
“Hold on tight,” he tells me, his gaze dark as he starts to plant kisses all the way down my body. “If you touch me, I can’t promise I won’t fuck you.”
Pleasurable shivers run down my spine. He shouldn’t have said that, because now I want to touch him. See what will happen.
I know I’m being reckless. I know he’s keeping secrets from me, but the fact is, in this moment I can’t bring myself to care. His touch makes my brain go on holiday, a long, long holiday in a faraway country. And I want him more than I want to know what he’s hiding.
He’s at my lower belly now, and I have a feeling I know where he’s headed, my anxiety ratcheting up and making me tense. I’ve never had this before, don’t know what to expect. Will I even like it?
When he reaches my mound he stops, nuzzling me with his nose and breathing in deeply. He holds himself up on his elbows, his eyes shining as he looks his fill.
“Relax,” he says tenderly, rubbing at my belly.
“I’m sorry. I’m just nervous.”
“Don’t be. You’re going to like this. In fact, you’re probably going to love it.” He gives me a devilish grin and then dips his head, his lips meeting my quivering sex with fervour. I cry out at the contact. Then he starts to lap at me with his tongue. It’s all wet and soft and absolutely heavenly; my entire body feels like it’s melting.
“J-Jason,” I say, my voice more air than sound.
He groans as he sucks my clit into his mouth. He looks so into it, like he’s enjoying this even more than I am, and that’s a massive turn-on. I want to let go of the bed and latch onto his shoulders, but he sees me move and gives me a heated look that says no. Starting at my clit, he licks a line to my entrance, his tongue slipping inside, flirting with the possibility. At this point I’ll take any part of him that he wants to put inside me. The absence of him makes me crazy, and I haven’t even had him yet to know what I’m missing.
He tongues me like that, penetrating me, like he’s actually fucking me, and I let the floodgates open, moaning with abandon. I’ve always been self-conscious about making noises during sex, but with Jay there’s no hope of holding back. He makes me lose my mind to the point that I barely recognise the needy, sex-crazed person I’ve become.
I can’t tell how much time has passed when he moves back to my clit, flicking his tongue in rapid movements that I didn’t even know were possible. God, I never want this to end. He’s looking up at me like I’m the sexiest thing he’s ever seen, and I need it to be real. I need this be about more than just sex to him. More than just an itch he wants to scratch.
“You look so fucking sexy right now. Come on my mouth,” he rasps, his hands going quickly to my hips and lifting. It takes me by surprise when he kneels up on the bed, my body at an angle with the mattress as he holds me up, his mouth still going to work on my clit. The angle makes it better, more intense. I never would have thought to do this.
His big hands splay out over my hips and lower belly, hot like fire on my skin.
“Look at me,” he demands, coming up for air.
Our eyes meet, lock. A coil tightens deep inside me, becoming more and more intense. He takes my clit between his teeth lightly then, and it shocks me how good it feels. I yelp and moan at once. Then I’m coming, long and hard, while he keeps on sucking, dragging out each tremor for all it’s worth.
I whimper as the pleasure subsides, and he wraps me up in his arms. His face rests in the crook of my neck, nuzzling behind my ear.
“Wow,” I breathe, finally finding enough strength to form words.
Jay’s quiet, affectionate laughter makes my belly flutter. “Now do you get what all the fuss is about?” he asks, his voice a soft caress.
“Mm-hmm.”
He moves his nose against my earlobe. “Good.”
We stay like that for a long time, a bizarre place where I’m naked in Jay’s arms with the freedom to enjoy the feel of his warm, bare chest pressed against me. I adore the heat of his skin, love the look in his eyes as he ate me out.
Time passes slowly, like caramel dripping luxuriously off a silver spoon. Unfortunately, the moment is broken too soon by three loud knocks on the front door. I’d almost fallen off to sleep when the noise jolts me awake. I look at the clock, remembering Michelle had said she’d drop over today.
Jay’s arms reflexively tighten around me when I try to move.
“Ignore it,” he says, eyes closed, voice sleepy.
“I have to answer it. It’s Michelle. She knows I’m here. I told her I would be.”
“Fuck.”
I smile at how annoyed he is by the prospect of breaking the little moment we’re sharing. “You need to go shower anyway. You’re still all sweaty from your workout.”
His eyes heat up as he moves to lean over me. “You love it.”
All I can manage in response is a shy smile.
Placing a soft, sweet kiss to my lips, he rolls off me and stands up. “A shower it is, then,” he says before leaving the room. I quickly grab some yoga pants and a T-shirt, throwing them on and hurrying downstairs to answer the door for Michelle. She’s ringing the bell now, getting impatient. My hair is still wet when I open the door.
“Sorry, I was in the bath,” I say as she comes inside.
She gives me a look and laughs. “Bit of a weird hour for a bath, but each to their own. Let’s go sit out on your patio. It’s a lovely day.”
I make us a selection of sandwiches and fill a jug with orange juice, bringing them all out to the deck furniture in the garden where Michelle is currently lounging. She’s wearing a yellow halter top that showcases her small but pert boobs, probably hoping to get a bit of a tan. The warm sun hits my feet, and I realise I’ve been going around barefoot, frazzled as I am by the day’s strange turn of events.
“So, any news?” Michelle asks, picking up a sandwich and taking a dainty bite.
Oh, I have news, all right. I’m not sure I want to broach the subject right now, though, not with Jay just upstairs anyway.
“Not really. You?”
She shrugs. “It was a slow week at work. Ooh, but I did see Michael Fassbender go by when I was leaving the office yesterday, so that brightened things up a little.”
“Really? Who was he with?” I ask curiously. Michelle has the uncanny luck of randomly seeing famous people in her everyday life. It’s weird. One time she was in the same queue as Gabriel Byrne in the supermarket.
“Just some old guy. At least, I think it was Michael Fassbender. It could have easily been a lookalike.”
At this Jay steps out into the garden, his hair damp and his clothes changed. Michelle eyes him as he pulls up a chair and sits. “You read my mind, Watson. I’m starving,” he says, grabbing a sandwich and eating it in one huge, hungry bite. I stare at his mouth, all too aware of where it’s just been. The heated look he gives me in return tells me he knows
exactly what I’m thinking.
“Oh, yeah, help yourself,” I say sarcastically. I don’t really know what way to be around him now.
“Don’t mind if I do,” he replies, giving me a loaded stare.
When I glance at Michelle, I see her looking between the two of us, a smile tugging at her lips.
“So, you both just had baths at, hmmm” — she glances down at her watch — “two o’clock in the afternoon.”
I pretend not to get what she’s getting at, frowning. “What? I had a bath. Jay had a shower. He has his own en-suite. And why are you so concerned about our personal hygiene habits?”
Jay’s smirking, but he’s not looking at me, focusing mainly on seriously depleting our sandwich situation. I know why he’s smirking, too. I just got a little overly defensive at Michelle’s statement.
“O-kay,” says Michelle, taking a sip of her juice. “I was only making an observation.” She pauses and dusts some crumbs from her lap, then asks randomly, “So, is Jessie coming over today?”
Now it’s my turn to get curious. I don’t know what it is, but there’s something in her tone that’s different. Like she’s trying too hard to sound casual. I look to Jay.
“Is she?”
He shakes his head, his hand moving sneakily to rest on my thigh under the table. I gasp in a tiny breath but try not to make a big deal of it, not wanting Michelle to notice. “Not that I know of, darlin’.”
His voice is slicker than usual, lazier. Is this what he sounds like after making women come? He seems so…satisfied.
“Oh, well, that’s a shame. She was so much fun last week after your show,” says Michelle.
Jay raises an eyebrow, looking at Michelle in an intense way for a second. “That’s interesting.”
“What?” she asks, sitting up straighter.
Oh, no, is he reading her?
“Your pupils dilated when you were talking about Jessie,” Jay explains casually. “Do you know what that means?”
“My pupils weren’t dilated,” says Michelle in a rare moment of self-consciousness. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her like this before. She scratches at her neck.
“They were. They got fucking huge, honey.” He leans in on his elbow. “It means you were aroused. You like Jessie, don’t ya?”
I nudge him in the side. “Leave her alone, Jay.”
“We’re having a friendly conversation, Matilda,” he replies, moving his hand up my thigh and squeezing hard. I clench my fist to keep from physically removing it.
“You two are being weird,” Michelle observes, picking up another sandwich. “What’s going on?”
Her questioning makes me mildly defensive. “We’re being weird?” I reply, laughing. “You’re the one whose pupils got dilated at the mention of a girl. I thought you left your experimental days behind you when you finished college.”
She sighs and slumps back in her seat. “Whatever. I like to think there’ll always be a part of me that’s fond of the ladies. Like ten percent of my vagina is into clam while the other ninety percent likes a good sausage.”
I practically choke on my laughter. Trust Michelle to always know how to put me in my place. “I can’t believe you just said that.”
“Jessie got you back to her place last week, didn’t she?” Jay surmises.
Michelle gives him a demure look. “She might have.”
“What!?” I interrupt in a fake voice of insult. “Something happened between you two and you didn’t tell me? This is an outrage!”
“Oh, calm down, Jemima. Not much happened. We had a little…fumble. That’s all. I enjoyed it, though. Wouldn’t mind a round two.”
“Jessie likes to turn the straight ones,” says Jay to me. “It’s her thing.”
“Well, she can turn me for a night any time,” says Michelle, licking her lips.
“Just don’t go leading her on,” I say, frowning now. Jessie might have a thing for turning straight girls, but Michelle has a thing for playing with the mice she catches before she eats them alive.
“Pffft.” Michelle waves away my concerns. “I couldn’t lead that woman on even if I tried. She’s a total stud. Probably has a new girl every night.”
“You’re not too far off,” says Jay, pulling his phone from his pocket. “Speaking of which, here she is now.” He answers the phone and steps away to talk.
“Don’t tell her I was talking about her,” Michelle whisper-shouts at him.
He gives her a wry nod and starts talking seriously on the phone. I wonder what that’s all about. Before I have the chance to ponder it further, Michelle grabs my wrist and practically yanks me across the table.
“Okay, I want to know everything that’s going on with you and Mr Magic Hands, and I want every last detail.”
Nineteen
I surprise even myself when I decide not to tell Michelle what happened between Jay and me. Here’s my reasoning: I want to save face, just in case it turns out that all this was to him was a roll in the hay. Michelle knows about my quest for epic love, and I don’t want her to judge me for letting my newfound libido lose the run of itself.
Somewhere in the back of my mind I know she wouldn’t judge me, but let’s face it, talking about sex is embarrassing. She’s always been the one to tell me about her bedroom adventures, not the other way around. To put it plainly, I have no problem talking about other people having sex, but talking about me having sex, well, that’s a whole other kettle of uncomfortable collar fiddling. I wouldn’t know where to begin in explaining to her just how spectacularly Jay managed to rock my world after what must have been a record-breaking dry spell.
“Nothing’s going on. He’s just flirty. He flirts with everyone,” I answer dismissively.
“Eh, no, he doesn’t. He hasn’t so much as given me a backward glance since I first met him, and that’s probably because he’s too busy giving you all his backward glances to even notice that other women exist.”
“Oh, shut up. You’re reading too much into it.”
“I am not, but if you want to sail your pretty little rowboat down the Nile and take in the scenery, then I’m not going to be the one to stop you.”
“Has anyone ever told you that you use twenty words when five will do? I thought they were supposed to teach you the opposite of that in marketing school.”
“Ah, now she’s getting bitchy. She always gets bitchy when she’s being defensive.”
“She would prefer not to be referred to in the third person, thank you very much.”
“She just did it herself.”
“She was trying to make a point.”
“Her point has been made.”
We look at each other for a second before we both burst into laughter.
“God, I fucking love you, Matilda, but I swear you’re the most neurotic girl I know.”
“Glad to hold the title.”
A minute later Jay returns, telling us he has to go out for a while, but he’ll be back later. He gives my shoulder a small, meaningful squeeze before he goes. Michelle and I watch a movie for the rest of the afternoon, and then I retreat to my sewing machine once she heads home.
It’s ten o’clock when I decide to call it a night. I furrow my brow, noticing that Jay still hasn’t gotten back yet. Worrying the screen of my phone, I hesitate over whether or not to call him and see if he’s okay. In the end, I decide not to. He’s a grown man. He doesn’t need me checking up on him.
In bed I toss and turn, as I usually do when I’m alone in the house. When I was a kid, I used to have nightmares about being kidnapped in my sleep and taken away by bad men all dressed in black. I’d wake Dad up constantly, screaming my head off until he came and calmed me down, reassuring me that it was just a dream. Over the years the nightmares faded, and I know Dad was glad that they did. He never said it, but I could tell he worried the nightmares were because of what happened the night Mum got killed. The kidnappers in my nightmares were always the same men who shot Mum.
Is he considering coming inside?
He doesn’t. Instead, he closes my door and goes to his own room. What was that all about? He moves around in his room for a while, doing his usual pacing that I tend to hear him do at night. The pacing is oddly reassuring to me, and I find myself drifting off to the sound of it.
Hours later, I wake up. It’s still dark, and when I glance at the alarm clock on my bedside dresser, I see it’s three in the morning. My heart is racing, and I can’t tell why until I hear what it is that woke me up. Loud, pained sounds are coming from Jay’s bedroom. I jump out of bed and hurry to his room, worried that he’s somehow been hurt. When I get to him, though, he isn’t hurt. His body is curled in on itself in the foetal position as he clutches his knees to his chest.
I’ve never seen such a huge man look so small.
Switching the lamp on low, I go to his side, finding he’s still asleep, in the midst of what seems to be a bad nightmare. It’s odd that I’d only just been thinking about my own experience with nightmares earlier tonight. He’s wearing boxer shorts and no top, sweat glistening on his skin. I hover over him, not sure if I should wake him up or leave him alone. He’s a fully grown man, but in this moment it’s like he’s reverted back to a child.
Hesitantly, I place my hand on his shoulder, whispering, “Jay, wake up. Jay, you’re having a nightmare.”
His body jerks and his eyes snap open; he grabs the hand that’s touching him tightly, painfully.
“Jay.” I wince. “Let go. It’s just me. It’s Matilda.”
At hearing my name, something seems to jolt him. Instead of letting go of my hand, he pulls on it, though more gently now. He drags my body onto his bed, pulling the covers over us both and wrapping his arms and legs around me. I’m trapped, but I don’t mind.