‘Could be,’ she answered, finding it possible, and easier, to smile back at him. He was right. They should play now, and face the thorns when they had to.
‘I suppose I have to guess which?’
She nodded, and he narrowed his eyes, and with his free hand stroked the beard that wasn’t there any more, as if pondering.
‘The leaves and shells set. Café au lait with darker lace?’
‘How the hell do you do that? Have you got X-ray vision or something?’
Jay laughed triumphantly and, leaning towards her, raised her hand to his lips, lavishing a kiss on the back of it.
‘So, what’s my prize for guessing right?’
Sandy began to shake, already knowing the award he wanted. Which was her, completely and unconditionally. He didn’t even have to name his price.
‘Who said there is a prize?’
‘Oh, I think there is. I’m convinced of it.’ He kissed her hand again, touching his tongue lightly yet lasciviously against her skin.
A soft cough made them both glance to the side, and Sandy wanted to laugh at the way Jay looked genuinely startled for a moment. He’d been so into her, no one else had existed.
It was the waiter with the menus but, when they began to peruse them, Sandy realised she wasn’t hungry. Jay’s impatient eyes told her he felt the same.
‘Look, what say we just have a starter here and then shoot over to the Teapot for the next course?’ she suggested. Her own boldness made her feel drunk, giddy, voracious. She’d only had one glass of the pink wine, but she was already floating.
‘Perfect.’
A few moments later, they were eating the chef’s special paté with crisp hot melba toast and delicious little accompaniments. It was sublimely unctuous, the best Sandy had ever tasted, and yet it almost seemed as if someone else were eating it, some other person’s taste buds sighing over the seasoning.
All she could think of was what was to come after. Herself and Jay, locked in a bubble of time and sex where neither the past nor the present nor any element of the outside world could touch them. When finally they were finished, and he came around to draw out her chair as she stood, her heart pounded as it had never done before.
Jay focused on the road ahead. He had to. It took all his powers of concentration not to stare at the woman beside him like a starving hound slavering over a T-bone.
His chest felt tight. Sandy was like grace and salvation to him. Almost three days spent arguing with his father had wrecked him far more than the old Aston ever had. The old bastard was stubborn and domineering – traits Jay knew he’d inherited – and set on his original plans. He’d wanted Jay working in his business empire, wheedled him into it, and Jay had accepted even though he’d known they’d end up at loggerheads sooner or later.
But now he was away from all that, even if only for one night. Truths would have to be faced, but not tonight, please God, not tonight.
He risked a brief glance at Sandy, and his groin tightened instantaneously. Her profile was pure, her beautiful hair piled high in a messed-up chignon, her mouth soft and glossy, natural pink yet shiny with some cosmetic. He imagined his come on those lips, and in her let-down hair, and splattered across her beautiful breasts, so shapely beneath her classy black dress. She was wearing the lingerie he’d chosen, and the idea of that excited him in a way that made his cock excruciatingly hard if he allowed himself to think about it. He wanted to press his face into her cleavage, feel the heat of her through that fine coffee-coloured satin. He wanted to slide up her skirt and then slip his fingers beneath her tiny G-string. Was she wet? He wanted to think so. He wanted to play in her moisture, or watch her play in it instead.
His erection stirred in his shorts, pushing against his fly, aching, aching. The need to see and touch and kiss and stroke her was messing with his head, making it dangerously hard to drive his performance car.
Recognising a lay-by he’d passed before on the quiet stretch of road, he flipped the indicator and pulled up, his heart pounding.
‘What’s wrong?’ demanded Sandy as the car rolled to a halt.
Jay’s face was taut, his eyes brilliant in the darkened interior of the car. Without saying anything else, he unclipped his seat belt then reached across to unfasten hers. Still leaning half across the car, he cupped her face and pressed his lips to hers, hard. As his tongue plunged into her mouth, his hand slid down, pushing aside her coat to find her breast and cradle it hungrily, without finesse.
There was nothing else to do but respond. She couldn’t have resisted, even if she’d wanted to. And she didn’t want to. She was melting, flowing with lust, and he squeezed her nipple through her dress. Kinetic energy in her pelvis made her wriggle.
‘You like that, don’t you?’ he growled, his mouth half-open against her face as he pinched and twisted the little crest of flesh. ‘A little bit of pain with your pleasure.’
Sandy gasped, loving it, hating it, confused with herself for wanting it, yet knowing that she’d been waiting all her life for a man to know what she wanted even when she couldn’t quite work it out. Reaching down, she cupped her own crotch, rubbing herself through her dress because she couldn’t stop herself and her clit was burning to be touched.
‘Oh, you’re so magnificently horny, Princess. Always ready.’ His voice was a low rasp in her ear, like claws scratching leather. ‘I bet you’re wet as hell … saturating that sexy little thong with your juices. Oh God, I swear I can smell you. I swear I can.’
Sandy gripped herself, twisting in the embrace of the car’s racing seat as Jay worked on her breast and possessed her mouth again, stabbing with his tongue. Her body was on fire for him, her pussy wet through, puffed and aching, silently screaming for his hand or her own.
‘Pull your skirt up,’ Jay gasped as their mouths broke apart.
‘Pull it up and show me your cunt. Now.’
It’s a public road, protested the wimp inside her.
Who cares, countered the woman dying of lust and ready, willing and able to do anything for this man, and give him anything.
As Jay continued to kiss her so hard she could barely breathe, she struggled with her skirt, hitching it and tugging it while she hefted her bottom around in the seat and tried to get her clothing out from under her. Jay helped, abandoning her breast for a moment to pull at her skirt and coat. Even as they grappled, the light from headlights swept across them.
She was in too deep to stop now though, and she knew Jay was. Her hemline came up, exposing the patterned tops of her stockings and her crotch, barely clad in lace and satin the colour of cappuccino. While she bunched her skirts at her waist he was already plucking at her G-string, pulling it aside, stretching the elastic to get at her.
His hot fingers found her and started working on her clitoris.
‘Pinch your nipples while I play with you. Go on! Do it!’ Sandy complied, squashing her swollen little teats hard, groaning at the pain but shifting her hips as it excited her.
Jay pressed her clit hard, and her heels dragged against the carpet in the foot well.
It was all unreal, surreal, hyper-real. Sex play in a supercar at the side of a country road. ‘Kiss me while I come,’ she commanded, suddenly taking the power from him. Or at least a bit of it. He laughed, as if deigning to indulge her as he crushed his mouth down on hers again.
His tongue fought hers as his finger flicked her clit. She growled into his mouth, then grabbed for him, clutching frantically at any bit of him she could reach as her orgasm beat her on the rocks of pleasure and threatened to wash her away.
More headlights swept over them as she clung to him, her sex clenching and clenching, her clitoris pulsing beneath the pad of his unyielding finger. Sandy’s head rang with the sound of her own cries, grunts of passion, unladylike and revealing. She babbled profane nonsense, appalled by it, yet free. Her movements were crude too, thrusting and writhing, unfettered by shame or fear.
‘Yes … yes … yes,’ gasped Jay,
as if applauding. His fingers were wet and slippery but he kept the pressure constant, coaxing and nursing her to new heights, without pause or respite.
Eventually, she croaked, ‘Enough! No more!’ And he withdrew his finger, but cupped her entire pussy in a gentle soothing hold.
More cars swept by. How had this road suddenly become a major thoroughfare? Had people followed them here, subconsciously seeking a show? Sandy didn’t care. She was aware only of Jay’s touch, the scent of his cologne, and his hot breath against her skin as she rested her forehead on his shoulder. She was leaning in towards him just as he was inclined across the car to get to her.
Still she held on. He was the rock now, solid and sure. She could cling on forever. But as her breathing steadied, all that had been unreal and out of the world slowly became real and normal again.
She was sitting in a car with her skirt around her waist and a man’s hand between her legs. Passing motorists probably couldn’t see her, but if anyone came by on foot, they would get an eyeful of far more than they’d bargained for.
‘We’ll get arrested,’ she said, pushing at Jay’s chest and arm. He seemed reluctant to let go of her at first, but then withdrew, settling back into his seat. In the darkness his eyes were stormy yet inscrutable. Sandy tugged frantically at her clothing but it seemed tangled somehow. He reached back across, slipping his hands under her armpits and, even at such an awkward angle, lifting her effortlessly so she could slide her skirt and coat beneath her.
‘Better?’
She nodded but she wasn’t sure. Something dark and perverse inside her mourned the exposure. She liked showing herself to him. Exhibiting her thighs, her sex, allowing him total access to her, to do whatever he wanted. She liked giving him dominion over her pleasure too. The power to give it, the power to withhold it. Freedom to use her like a plaything, and handle her intimately.
We may not have this ‘thing’ for long. But tonight we’ve got it. And I want more.
She stared at his mouth, and in the darkness of the car’s interior it looked reddened as if he’d bitten his lip. Her body stirred once more, as if those lips were pressed between her legs, and the tongue that had owned hers was licking and tasting her. As she started to get excited and wet again he smiled. Why was it always so bloody easy for him to read her?
Exerting a dominion of her own, Sandy reached out and placed her hand over his crotch, assessing his erection. Dear God, he was hard. She could feel the heat and the shape of him clean through the silk worsted of his suit trousers. As her fingers tightened experimentally, his cock kicked against her touch, and he muttered, ‘Fuck!’ beneath his breath, while his insanely long black eyelashes flickered down and his head tipped back.
There was a contrary thrill to this strange see-saw they seemed to be on tonight. One minute he was in charge, the next, she was. She knew he’d take back the power any moment, any second. But right now, it was hers, and as heady as the wine she’d sipped.
Slowly, she circled her palm against the bulge of his cock, her fingers curving, exploring, cupping. Jay rolled his head, his white teeth digging into his full lower lip.
‘You know you’re going to make me come if you do much more of that,’ he warned, but he didn’t brush her hand away.
‘Would that be such a tragedy?’ She moved her thumb, strumming it from side to side, and his breath hissed.
‘I don’t suppose so, really,’ he said, through gritted teeth. ‘Especially if you like the idea of men so helplessly aroused by you that they sticky their shorts in your honour.’
‘I’ve never thought about it before.’
His erection stirred. How could he get any stiffer? Any bigger? He was already enormous, tenting his elegant trousers and pushing against the zip.
Jay let out a harsh laugh, adjusting himself in his seat. ‘Good God, woman, it must happen constantly. With your face, your hair, your body, men must get hard over you all the time.’
Sandy frowned. She was pretty enough, she knew that, but she knew prettier and sexier women who she imagined did induce hard-ons aplenty. Kat, for instance, was much more of a siren than she was.
‘I’m not so sure.’
‘Then be sure, you sexy little tart,’ Jay growled, moving uneasily, his hips lifting a little to push himself into her hold.
‘I’ve developed a raging hard-on every time I’ve ever set eyes on you. And I do mean every time.’
It took a moment for the penny to drop but, when it did, Sandy tried to snatch her hand away. She felt confused, a bit appalled, but also ridiculously pleased in a way. But before she could properly retreat, Jay’s stronger hand grasped hers, clamping it in place.
‘Yes, I admit it, I’m a disgusting sexual pervert, and I was fifteen years ago. Even while I was trying to comfort you and calm you and be the perfect gentle knight, I was still fancying you at the same time and getting hard for you.’
That was sick, wasn’t it? Sort of … Well, a bit.
‘I never realised. I just thought you were trying to be kind.’
He sighed. ‘I was. I was. But I was twenty, and you were utterly gorgeous. You still are. That’s why you affect me in a way no other woman ever has.’
Sandy’s heart lurched. Could she believe that? Jay’s erection was still as rampant as ever, but suddenly there was a peculiar quality of resignation, of weariness about him. He seemed almost bitter. Did he resent her somehow for this supposed power she had over him?
‘I don’t believe that.’ She stared at him, trying to divine what it was that had changed his aura so abruptly. ‘A man like you, so accomplished and so attractive –’ she ignored his grunt of derision ‘– and who’s obviously got a bob or two. You must have women throwing themselves at you right, left and centre. And don’t tell me they’ve all been dogs and they haven’t turned you on!’
To her surprise, Jay laced his fingers with hers and lifted her hand away from his body. In the low light of the car’s interior, his eyes looked dark and troubled. He drew her hand to his lips and kissed the palm, then leaned across and set it in her own lap.
‘Seat belt,’ he instructed crisply. ‘Let’s get back to your place. I want to try out a few of those sex toys. Experiment a bit.’ As he clipped his own belt, his expression lightened, eyes glinting playfully.
So that’s the way it is? Play first, discussions afterwards. Sandy fastened herself in, all the time on the point of opening her mouth and demanding answers, illumination. She sensed he’d been about to admit to something, she knew not what, but serious somehow. But now he’d set it aside, shut it in a box, sequestered the less than palatable in favour of pursuing pleasure.
Was that selfish? Evasive? Typically male? Was she going to force the issue? Be typically female at the expense of pleasure for herself too?
No, I fucking well am not, Jay Bentley! No way!
He could be gone again tomorrow. Why screw up the chance of a lifetime with a sexy and mysterious man, just to get a few answers she might not like anyway?
‘Yeah, so do I! Let’s go. What are we waiting for?’
His eyes were full of admiration as he stabbed the starter and the car roared.
Chapter 16
‘Where are you going with it? What are you doing?’
With the box of exotic goodies in his arms, Jay was already heading for the café when he answered her. They’d abandoned their coats on the landing, and at Jay’s command, Sandy had retrieved her gift from the bedroom, surprised he’d not followed her in there.
‘Indulge me. I have this perverse desire to have a little fun in your workplace, Princess.’ He elbowed open the door into the main serving area. ‘I like the idea of you thinking about me touching you and tasting you next time you’re serving tea and a doughnut to some horny workman who’s eyeing you up and fancying you.’
‘You’re twisted, you are,’ she muttered as she followed him in. He was already sifting through the items in the box, and a vertigo of anticipation gripped her as she menta
lly catalogued its contents.
‘Guilty as charged,’ he said, setting down the box, and glancing around the room, with a grin, ‘Nice decorations … going for the abstract look?’ He quirked a dark brow. Kat had been supposed to be trimming the room, but had clearly got distracted half way through, probably by Greg. Several streamers were half-pinned-up, half-drooping, and a small artificial Christmas tree in the corner of the room sported a rather tatty fairy on the top, but no other adornment. Baubles and tinsel spilled out of a box on the counter.
‘It’s a work in progress,’ replied Sandy, watching closely as Jay returned his attention to his own box of goodies. He flashed her a glance out of the corner of his eye, lifting out the vibrator she’d used while they’d spoken on the phone. She swallowed, knowing, just knowing he was going to raise it to his nose to see if he could smell her on it, even though she’d washed and soaped it pretty scrupulously.
But Jay being Jay, he didn’t. He just winked and set it back in the box.
‘How about these? Have you tried these? They look rather Christmassy.’
Unfolding one of the small black paper parcels, he showed her a pair of delicate nipple clamps, each adorned with a prismatic Swarovski crystal pendant.
Sandy’s reaction was strong and instant, a primitive automatic urge to cross her legs and cringe at the same time. She hadn’t tried them. She daren’t. But she wanted to. When she pinched her nipples while she was playing with herself, or being played with, her level of arousal nearly went through the ceiling. But the idea of clamps made her throat go dry, and fear grind with the desire low in her belly.
‘No,’ she said in a small voice, part of her praying he’d put them back in the box, most of her praying that they’d taken his fancy.
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