“Pardon?”
“We’ve been out all day. Walking, rock climbing, breaking and entering.” She placed her hands on his chest. “Would it be a total mood killer if I had a shower first? We could do it together.”
He snorted out a laugh. Of all the things he might have expected to come out of her mouth, that was not one of them. “I think you just annihilated my ego,” he said, then surprised her by grabbing her by the waist and hoisting her over his shoulder. “No one has ever taken a look at me naked and said that I stink.”
She giggled as she grabbed his bare ass. “This caveman thing always seems sexier in books.”
“Probably because we stink. I bet your authors don’t add that to your books,” he said as he set her on her feet in the shower and turned on the water. He took out a spare toothbrush and handed it over. “May as well brush your teeth. You have Cheetos, Oreos, and whatever other junk food you inhaled today on your breath,” he teased.
She gave him a look as she put some paste on the toothbrush. “And you probably have pussy breath.”
His mouth gaped open for a moment, and then he broke out laughing, “I cannot believe you just said that!”
She began to laugh too. “Shit, that was too crass even for me. I was just kidding, by the way.” She turned to look around, holding the toothbrush in her mouth. “Jesus Christ! Your bathroom’s bigger than my apartment.” She pressed her nose against the clear shower door, which was now getting steamed up. “How many shower heads are in there?” She turned and placed her toothbrush next to his in the holder.
“Enough.” He smirked as he opened the door and pulled her in.
“Enough for how many people to shower together, exactly?”
“Enough for you and me to shower together.”
“With a guest or two,” she added.
“Are you going to be difficult all night, or are you going to shower so we can get back to the good stuff?”
JL got on the tips of her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck as the water splashed on her back. “We can have some good stuff in here too, you know?”
He scrunched his nose. “I don’t think so, baby. You stink.”
She let go and scowled, causing him to laugh. He pulled her back toward him. “Your words. Not mine,” he said before dropping his mouth to her neck. “You actually smell delicious.” He continued to kiss down her neck to her collarbone. “You taste even better.”
JL reached over his shoulder to pick up the soap and began to lather Enzo’s shoulders and back as he kissed her. “Move back a little and I’ll get your front.” He hesitantly dislodged himself from her and gave her room to work. He took the soap from her and began to wash her body too. Their soapy hands were everywhere, and when her soft lathered hands gripped his hard dick, he’d finally had enough. He pushed her back against the marble wall, water dripping down her face, her short hair slicked back.
He’d never thought short hair was sexy, but now, seeing how the pixie cut drew attention to her face, neck, and shoulders, he realized how wrong he’d been. He’d also never seen the allure of tattoos before, but those colorful tats on different parts of her body made him want to explore her thoroughly. It was as if every square inch of her held a story that he wanted to read. Even though she was short, with small breasts and few curves—the opposite of all the other women he’d dated—she was by far the sexiest woman he’d ever met.
While he would normally be reserved, he decided this was where he would let loose and do exactly what was on his mind….
Unable to control himself any longer, he dropped down to his knees, slung one of her legs over his shoulder, and began to feast on her completely bare pussy. With one hand splayed over her stomach, holding her against the wall, he used the other one to open her lips so he could tease her clit with his tongue. Every time she wiggled away, he sucked her clit harder. When he looked up, he saw JL’s head against the wall, her eyes closed and mouth parted, as drops of water fell from her eyelashes. He pushed two fingers inside her and watched as she opened her expressive blue eyes and looked down at him with a gasp. Instead of pressing his mouth back on her, he continued to look at her as he pumped his fingers in and out. Their eyes locked. He felt her thighs begin to tremble and the walls of her pussy tighten around his fingers, and he couldn’t look away from her eyes.
“Oh, God!” she cried as she shut her eyes once more and pressed her head back. He took that opportunity to bring her over the edge by putting his mouth back on her clit and sucking hard, drawing her orgasm out of her until he felt her legs start to give way.
“I got you,” he said while cradling her in his arms.
“Good, ’cause I can’t walk,” she moaned dreamily. “Sugar, if your definition of letting loose is to give me orgasms and talk dirty to me, I’ll take it.”
He chuckled, turned off the water, and carried her out of the bath. He sat her limp body on the counter, draping a towel around her. He dried himself as quickly as possible, popped his contact lenses out of his eyes and dumped them in the trash, and slipped on a spare pair of glasses he kept on the counter
“Nice,” she said.
“Nice? You like the glasses?”
“I kind of do.” She smiled and straightened them. “Sexy.”
He finished drying her, then tossed the wet towels in the hamper and carried her to his bed. “Didn’t think we’d ever make it onto an actual bed.”
She hummed into his chest. “That was so good. Had I known you could rock sex like that, I’d have gone out with you sooner.”
He pushed slightly away so he could see her face. “You thought I’d be bad in bed?” He put his hand over his heart. “I’m wounded.”
“Well, the suits, the hair, the glasses…”
“If someone shouldn’t be judging a book by its cover, Ms. Tattoos, it’s you.”
She cringed. “I know. I know. Sorry. How can I make it up to you?”
“Well, for starters”—he lifted her by the waist to straddle him—“you can tell me just how much I rock in bed and how turned on I make you.”
She reached for his face and took off his glasses, carefully placing them on the bedside table. “Will you be able to see anything?” she asked sincerely.
He squeezed her waist. “I know where everything is. I don’t need to see,” he said wryly.
She leaned down and kissed his chest, running her fingers through the small feathering of hair. “I’m not on the pill.”
He wasn’t used to having these kinds of conversations. Admittedly, all the women he’d been with were very refined, and topics such as birth control weren’t the usual things discussed. If it was just a casual relationship, he’d simply put on a condom. These kinds of conversations always seemed to be crass for some reason. But with Jamie Lynn and the intimacy they’d shared and the day they’d spent together, it seemed natural and honest, and he felt completely at ease for the first time in his life.
“I have condoms in my nightstand.” He reached over and grabbed one.
She flicked her tongue on his nipple as he rolled it on, making his dick harder than it had been just a moment before. Still kissing his nipple, she took him in her hand and pumped it up and down a few times.
“Jamie Lynn, sweetheart…” He was about to tell her that if she didn’t fuck him soon, he was going to either come in her hand or flip her over and fuck her senseless, but the minx shifted up, positioned herself over his cock, and slowly lowered herself down. He flung himself back on the mattress moaning, reveling in the feel of her. She was so warm and tight against his throbbing dick.
Her hands were now on his chest and instead of moving her body up and down, she swiveled her hips in a circle. “You feel good, darlin’,” she said with her eyes closed, lost in her own pleasure. He’d already noticed that her southern drawl was thicker when she was in the throes of ecstasy. “Tell me what you want.” She continued to swirl her hips. “Talk to me. Tell me.”
The woman wanted dirty talk.
It was what got her off, and he’d give it to her—he’d be someone else tonight. Actually, he realized in a flash, he wasn’t being someone else. He was being himself—only it was the part of himself he never allowed out.
“I need you to ride my cock, baby.” He grabbed her waist and pushed her down. “Ride it.” It wasn’t really too difficult to spit it out, since it was exactly what he was thinking, though he’d never have thought of saying it out loud.
“Enzo!” she cried throatily as he slammed her down on him and then lifted her up to repeat the motion; she was so small and easy to manipulate.
He couldn’t hold off much longer. “Harder, baby,” he commanded, placing her hands on his chest so that she could ride him. He stuck his thumb into her mouth, and the sight and feel of her sucking it made him even harder. He lowered his finger onto her clit and began to move in small circles. Less than thirty seconds later her pussy clamped down hard on him and her movements quickened to the point of erratic. He gripped her waist to steady her as he felt the tingle of his orgasm start at the base of his spine and move down to his balls. With one final grunt, he came hard.
She collapsed on him in a sweaty heap of arms and legs, both of them completely limp and sated. The soothing feeling of their synchronized breaths was all he remembered as the eventful day took its toll on him and he drifted off to sleep, still connected to the woman who’d left him breathless.
—
As was the case almost every night, JL woke up in the middle of the night from a restless sleep. At some point she’d rolled off of Enzo and was now tucked close to him, his chest her pillow. He smelled delectable and felt even better against her cheek with all the hard lines and planes covered by soft wisps of hair. She didn’t like being in the dark, especially in unfamiliar places, so she reached around carefully and quietly until she found the bedside lamp.
Quietly she got out of bed and looked at Enzo, who had shifted and was now sprawled out on his massively huge mattress, expensive-feeling sheets hanging off him. He was snoring lightly, his formerly perfectly done hair was mussed, and he had small purple marks along his neck where she had been particularly enthusiastic in her kissing. JL searched around the room for her clothes but didn’t find them. She opened drawers until she found one of his T-shirts and slipped it on before going to the bathroom. Lifting the lid of the hamper, she found her clothes there; apparently Mr. Neat Freak had awakened at some point and tidied up. She let out a chuckle at the thought. She, on the other hand, had pretty much passed out in a heady ecstasy-fueled sleep. She freshened up a little in the bathroom before heading out to explore his house a little, something she hadn’t had a chance to do earlier.
She padded downstairs, turning on all the lights along the way. Colorful paintings hung everywhere. They seemed to be from the same painter and were mostly watercolors of people playing musical instruments. JL studied them for a little while wishing she knew who the artist was because they were beautiful and she wanted to see more. She walked along the hall, her hand sliding over a wooden table intricately carved with an unusual design. She finally reached the living room, which she’d glimpsed from the landing, and was surprised there wasn’t a television, being that this was a bachelor pad.
There was a big wall unit with photos of people she didn’t recognize but who resembled him. Well, she did recognize his cousin and her friend, Francesca, in one of them. Everyone looked happy and he seemed to have a very large family.
Her stomach growled, and she turned in search of the kitchen.
If she were to design a kitchen of her own, JL thought when she found it, it would look just like this one. She didn’t cook, but she loved to eat. She’d always dreamed of having a family and spending time in the kitchen. In the television shows she’d watched growing up, the families always talked and bonded in the kitchen. She wanted that. To JL, that was what family meant.
The modern stainless-steel appliances in the high-ceilinged kitchen contrasted nicely with the traditional esthetic. The cabinets were antique white, and the thick slab of marble on the counter was a swirl of whites and gray. The island in the middle of the room was enormous. It had a big farm sink on one side and on the other side was a counter with five chairs. There was even a wrought-iron rack suspended from the ceiling, with gleaming pots and pans hanging from it. Someone would be very happy in this house, she thought; it was a family home. She felt a sudden pain in her chest. She wasn’t looking for that with Enzo. In fact, she didn’t think that was in the cards for her at all. But specifically not with Enzo. She understood that they lived in different worlds. In her world, pots and pans did not hang from beautifully ornate wrought-iron racks. She lived in a world where you had one frying pan and one pot and the yellow enamel was chipping from overuse.
She never really thought of the future. For so long she’d been living from day to day. First she’d had to survive life with her abusive mother. Then, when she moved out on her eighteenth birthday, she’d focused on just trying to make ends meet. Suddenly she found herself thirty years old, without any real dreams of her own, and that scared her more than anything.
But she wasn’t going to dwell on that. She lived in the present. Hell, the second tattoo she’d ever gotten, barely noticeable at her hairline on the back of her neck, said CARPE DIEM. She always seized the day. She was the eternal optimist and she wasn’t going to let the kick-ass kitchen with the kick-ass pot rack change that. Today was about fun. She needed to focus on now, and now was about Enzo and sex. The best sex of her life, actually. And now she was fucking famished.
Opening the freezer, she was ecstatic to find a pint of chocolate ice cream. She took it out and rummaged through the drawers until she found a spoon.
Taking the ice cream back to the living room, she ate a few delicious spoonfuls. Though it was the middle of the night, she was wide awake, and there was no way she would be able to go back to sleep. JL set the ice cream on the expansive wooden coffee table and went back to the kitchen to look through his kitchen drawers, confirming what she already knew: Enzo was a neat freak. Everything was perfectly in place and where it was supposed to be. “But everyone has a junk drawer,” she whispered to herself as she opened and closed drawer after drawer. “Unbelievable,” she muttered at last. The man did not have a junk drawer!
He did, however, have a drawer that held just a small notebook, a pencil, and a few pens, likely for taking notes or for grocery lists. She took out the notebook and the pencil and went back to the living room. She sat on the floor on the plush area rug and began to draw. When she was uneasy, she liked to draw. It was her way of coping with the nervous energy. It got her concentrating on something specific rather than on her twitchy leg that bobbed up and down or the silence that cloaked the massive house. Plus, there was nothing as gratifying as seeing a finished product. It gave her peace. So she sat cross-legged and sketched, ate ice cream, and tuned out the world.
JL wasn’t sure how long she’d been at it when she heard Enzo’s footsteps. “Jamie Lynn?” he asked with a yawn. His boxer shorts rode low on his stomach, making it impossible not to stare at his amazing body. She’d never been with someone who had chest hair. He didn’t have an overabundance, but there was definitely a fair amount. She’d never thought she’d like it, but now that she’d run her hands down his body, she found herself wanting to feel it again.
“Couldn’t sleep,” she said with a mouthful of ice cream.
He began to turn off the various lights she’d turned on before lying down on his couch behind her.
“Did you want to be alone?” he asked.
“Not particularly.”
“What are you drawing?”
“Not sure yet.”
He kissed her shoulder. “Are you eating ice cream?” He squinted. “Straight from the container?”
She nodded and held a spoonful to his lips. He shrugged before opening his mouth to eat some. She went back to sketching as he continued to lazily kiss her shoulders and caress her back. She
stiffened when his hands roamed down her spine and along her hip to her thigh, where she’d gotten her first tattoo.
“What happened here?” She could tell he’d felt the raised scar that had been hidden by a tattoo: an opened black book with pages flying out that eventually became black birds flying away.
She looked back at him, unsure if that was a conversation to have so soon.
“It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me,” he said. “But I’d love to hear about it if and when you want to talk.”
He continued to kiss and rub her back while her mind went back and forth: should she lay her cards out or keep them close? “Don’t confuse lust with love, Enzo,” she said at last.
“Is that the impression you get?” He continued to kiss her softly, sleepily.
“No. I think it was just great sex. Definitely lust. I just wanted to make it known.”
“Is that all this is?” he said with a hint of amusement. “Just great sex?”
“Remember, it’s not who you want to spend Friday night with. It’s who you want to spend all day Saturday with. Woody Harrelson, Friends with Benefits.”
He laughed. “Haven’t seen it.”
“Could we be any less compatible?”
“You’re going to spend all day Saturday with me, Jamie Lynn. And not just one Saturday. Many Saturdays. If you really believed what you’re saying, you’d have asked me to take you home,” he said softly.
His words scared her and excited her all at the same time because he was right.
Eventually the touching stopped, and when she turned around, she saw that he’d fallen asleep. She took his glasses off and laid them on the coffee table. She appreciated that he hadn’t asked too many probing questions and had let her off the hook. His touch had let her know he was there but still gave her the space she needed. It was nice. He was nice.
She yawned and put the pad and pencil down. She was certain he was asleep, but he opened his arms when she climbed up next to him. He held her tight, his chest slowly moving up and down against her, his breathing soothing. Soon she drifted off into the best night’s sleep she’d had in…well, as long as she could remember.
Fighting Dirty Page 7