by Lauren Rowe
“Okay, Kat, that’s enough,” I caution.
“—he won’t insist on it at the risk of sabotaging the scam. We’ll just make Jonas out to be the bad guy and let Sarah sound like she’s doing her best to manage him and keep the money rolling in.”
Everyone stares at Kat, speechless and impressed.
Kat shrugs. “What? There are two things I know well in this life—PR and men.”
“Nice,” Henn says, his admiration palpable.
“Hey, I might be dumb, but I’m not blonde,” Kat says, and everyone laughs.
Josh flashes Kat an adoring smile. “Does everyone agree with Kat on this? Because I most certainly do.”
Everyone expresses agreement.
“Especially the part about how you’re not allowed to leave the suite without me,” I say. “That part is true. I don’t want you going out there without me.”
“Trust me, I won’t,” Sarah says. “Now that I know that creep’s out there watching me, I have no desire to leave the suite ever again. I’ve got to hunker down and write my report, anyway. This is going to be a huge job.” Sarah shakes her head in disbelief. “This is so crazy.”
“It’s totally insane,” Henn agrees, exhaling happily. “Isn’t it awesome?”
Chapter 29
Sarah
It’s been a long-ass day. But a productive one. For the better part of today, Kat and I shadowed Henn as he worked furiously on his three computers, and when Henn finally crashed and burned due to total sleep deprivation, Kat and I kept going, doing our best to categorize and prioritize the information he’d retrieved thus far. And as Kat and I worked, Jonas and Josh did, too, brainstorming, researching governmental agencies, and drafting a spreadsheet outlining potential strategies.
Occasionally, the boys bickered until one of them started laughing and the other joined in—and, once, out of nowhere, they got into a heated argument about who would top the list of the best NFL quarterbacks of all-time—and, admittedly, at one point, Kat and I got so punchy we sat fully clothed in the empty Jacuzzi tub to drink a glass of wine—but otherwise, it was a day filled with nonstop work and stress.
In the middle of writing a particularly frustrating section on my report, I looked at Jonas across the room to find him intensely studying something on his laptop, his brow furrowed, and I felt an overwhelming desire to crawl into his lap and say, “To hell with everything—let’s go back to Belize.” But instead, I suggested he take a break to work out in the hotel gym.
“There’s no time for that,” he said. “I’m on a mission from God here, baby.”
I was about to say his mind might actually benefit from a break, when, without notice, he added, right in front of everybody, “Because I love my baby more than life itself.” And then he looked back down at his computer as if that wasn’t the most heart-stopping moment of my entire life.
And now, finally, everyone’s gone and there’s nothing to keep me from crawling into his lap now—or doing whatever else the heck I might want to do to my hunky-monkey boyfriend.
Jonas comes out of the bathroom after his shower, every single inch of his naked body as hard as a rock, and crawls into bed next to me. He flips me onto my back roughly and crawls over me, his erection grazing my belly and his eyes gleaming. “What shall we do first, my lady?” he says. “Shall I take a big bite out of your ass? Or perhaps nibble on your crumpets?” He leans down and nibbles one of my nipples.
“Hang on, sir,” I say in a clipped accent, and he pauses—though it looks like it physically pains him to do it. “I happen to have a few very specific thoughts on this subject this fair evening.” I pat the bed next to me and he reluctantly obeys, a questioning look in his eyes. “When I was Googling to find that strip club I took you to the other night, I initially searched the term ‘peep show Las Vegas,’ and you know what came up?”
He shakes his head.
“All kinds of crap about some now-defunct topless musical revue on The Strip starring Ice-T’s wife.”
Jonas glances at my crotch with pure longing in his eyes.
I smile wickedly. “So then I searched ‘peep show sex club,’ just to see what might come up, and gosh darn it, Google must have thought I wanted search results for ‘peep show sex.’ Huh. Talk about fascinating reading.” I bite my lower lip.
A shadow of a smile flickers across Jonas’ face, but he somehow manages to keep his excitement under wraps.
“It turns out there’s a sexual position called The Peep Show. Are you familiar with that one, sir?’
He pauses. “Well, actually, that could refer to one of several different things, my dearest lady.” He licks his lips. “You’ll have to be more specific about your particular item of interest.”
I grab my laptop off the nightstand and quickly find the graphic 3-D animation I stumbled upon by accident the other night—two attractive, animated avatars performing “peep show fellatio” with body-jerking enthusiasm.
Considering how many different and sometimes surprising ways Jonas has performed oral sex on me—who knew there were so many ways to do it?—the sight of that “peep show fellatio” animation really shouldn’t have surprised me at all. But it did.
All this time, I’d accepted Jonas’ paradigm that my pleasure was the elusive beast—the hard-earned prize he’d studied and practiced and trained specifically to vanquish—and all the while it never even occurred to me that there might be a thing or two I could learn to maximize his pleasure, too. It was like a light bulb went off in my head—and between my legs.
I turn the computer screen toward Jonas and his face lights up. “This,” I say, showing him the avatars performing peep show fellatio. “Ring any bells, sir?”
His smile spreads across the entire width of his face. “Why, yes, my lady,” he says, his voice edged with suppressed excitement, “it rings bells and whistles and buzzers and clappers and ding-dongs.”
I laugh heartily.
“I have indeed heard tell of this ‘peep show’ sex act to which you refer,” he says, his eyes ablaze, “but I’ve never been so fortunate as to have someone suggest performing it on me.” He bites his lip. “For me.”
I’m floored. I didn’t see that one coming. I thought Jonas had done every conceivable sex act known to man. I can’t believe my ears. “How is that possible?” I ask, dropping our playful politeness.
“I’ve never done it.”
“But, I mean, I thought when it came to sex, you’ve already done everything there is to do—and then some.”
He shrugs.
“But, I thought... ” I shake my head. I’m utterly confused. How is this possible?
He blushes. “It’s not the kind of thing I’d ask some random hook-up to do. And I’ve never had a...” He sighs. “I’ve never had a girlfriend like you before.”
Heat spreads throughout my body. “What do you mean?”
He shrugs again but doesn’t answer.
“Your girlfriends have never wanted to do this for you?”
He shakes his head.
“You’re going to have to give me more than a headshake here, big boy. ‘Fess up. Come on.”
He exhales. “It’s just never come up.”
“Why not?”
“Why don’t I lick you and make you come and then we’ll talk about this afterwards?” He starts crawling on top of me again, grinning lasciviously.
I push him off me. “This is too fascinating. Tell me first and then I promise it’s crazy-sexy-freaky time ‘til the break of dawn.”
He sighs. “You’re such a pain in the ass, you know that, woman?”
“Yes.”
He rolls his eyes. “A little over a year ago, I went on a date with this woman and she faked having an orgasm—”
“Yes, I know, the woman who inspired you to seek redemption the second time around. I really should buy that lady a bottle of the finest champagne to thank her, by the way, since I’m the one who’s benefited more than anyone from the higher learning s
he inspired.”
Jonas smiles. “How about I tell you this story after I lick you and make you come?” He reaches for my inner thigh.
I swat his hand way. “Nope.”
He frowns like a little boy denied a cookie.
“Come on. Spill.”
He exhales, resigned to his fate. “Thanks to that faker, I started reading up and studying and I realized for the first time what a gift it is to make a woman reach orgasm—how much effort it takes beyond just fucking her. Before then, I just thought, ‘If it feels good to me, it must feel good to her.’ I thought it was a crapshoot whether a woman comes or not, like out of my control—sometimes yes, sometimes no.” He smiles. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, my natural instincts were better than most, I’m not a complete Neanderthal—but the minute I started reading and learning, I realized there was so much more to it—so much technique to learn. I realized that if I wanted to make a woman come, I could, every single time. I just had to do it right.”
“Oh, God, you’re turning me on, Jonas.”
His face explodes with desire and his erection twitches. “Then let me lick you and make you scream.”
“You’ll have to finish your story first.” I tease him by caressing my breast.
His chest heaves. “So-then-I-licked-a-bunch-of-women-between-their-legs-and-made-them-come-whenever-I-wanted. The End.” He smiles and reaches for me.
I push him away again. “You’re so gross.”
He laughs.
“Seriously, though. I’m blown away I’ve finally discovered the one sex act you’ve never done before.”
“Oh, there are lots of sex acts I’ve never done before—and a whole bunch I’ve only done with you.”
Now I’m genuinely reeling. “What? I’ve been your first for some of this stuff?”
“For lots and lots of it.”
I blink quickly like he’s just given me mental whiplash. I sit up and look him in the eyes. “Babe. What are you talking about? I’m totally confused.”
He puts his hand on my cheek and kisses me. “My Magnificent Sarah,” he says, nipping at my jawline. “You turn me on, baby. Do you have any idea how much you turn me on?” His hand softly brushes my breast.
Blood rushes between my legs. “No, Jonas. Tell me.”
“How ‘bout you give me a little taste first—your pussy’s calling to me like a siren, woman.”
“No.”
He pouts.
“Tell me.”
He grunts and sighs. “Before I found religion, so to speak, I’d already had plenty of sex, of course, with hook-ups, girlfriends, flings, one-night stands. All the typical stuff—fucking, oral, threesomes—I did it all. But never, ever like it is with you. Never like, you know... ” His eyes sparkle. “Going to church.” His face lights up. “And then after I found religion, after I’d started studying and learning and seeking out women to practice on, sex for me was always about making a woman come harder than she ever had, making her surrender to me—becoming God.” He rolls his eyes at that last part.
“Redemption,” I say quietly, a light bulb suddenly going off in my head. How have I not understood before this moment how thoroughly Jonas’ need for redemption has pervaded his entire life? “Everything you do, even sex, is about redeeming yourself, Jonas. Proving you’re not worthless.”
He stares at me for a long beat. “Yeah,” he finally says. “I guess so.” He flashes me those mournful eyes. “Huh.” There’s another long beat. “So, anyway, I’ve always wanted to make my sexual partners surrender to me, but I never... ” He twists his mouth. “I never wanted to be the one who surrendered.” He swallows hard. “So, you know, to answer your question, I haven’t done a whole lot of stuff that puts me on the receiving end of things—stuff like The Peep Show. I’ve always steered things in the opposite direction.”
I can barely contain my bodily impulses right now.
“But what about before this past year—before your ‘quest for sexcellence?’ You’ve had girlfriends before all that—what about receiving from them?”
“Occasionally, sure. But before you, my girlfriends were pretty uptight. I guess I picked girls who made it easy for me to suppress rather than reveal. Yeah, I’ve had girlfriends before you, but this is the first time I’ve been a true boyfriend in return—the first time I’ve revealed.”
I’m electrified. “But what about all those one-night stands? I can’t believe you didn’t try sex every which way... ?”
“Think about it. When you fuck a different woman every night, and your only goal is making your partner come hard, you actually wind up being less experimental, not more. You’ve got one, maybe two, shots to make this stranger come like a rocket, so you wind up having certain go-to moves you fall back on again and again, just to be absolutely sure you succeed.”
“So all those sexual positions we’ve been doing?”
“I’m trying most of them out with you.”
My entire body flutters with excitement. “The butterfly?”
He looks shy. “Just you. My beautiful butterfly.”
My clit zings like he’s just licked me there. “The ballerina?”
“Who else but you could even stand like that, let alone get fucked like that?”
My head is spinning. “What about that upside-down sixty-nine thing we did the day we got back from Belize?”
“Just you.”
“But right before we did it you said it turns you on and—”
“I was talking about sixty-nining in general. I’ve done that before, sure, but not that crazy-ass acrobatic thing. I’ve always wanted to try that—but who would I have done that with besides you?” He sighs, enraptured. “That was amazing.”
I’m ridiculously turned on. “Oh, Jonas.” I shake my head. “I thought you’d done everything there is to do with a thousand other women.”
He shakes his head. “I licked ‘em and made ‘em come and then fucked ‘em just to get myself off. Nothing like what we’ve been doing. You’re my first on a ton of stuff I’ve always wanted to try—my sexy little guinea pig.”
I feel like a cat in heat, like I want to rub myself against his thigh.
“You’ve got to be plenty comfortable with someone to do some of the more adventurous stuff we’ve been doing—there’s got to be mutual trust.”
I grab his face and kiss him and he leans into me, ready to crawl on top of me and mount me. I push him back again and he groans.
“Come on, baby. I’m dying here. I can’t wait anymore,” he whimpers.
“Too bad.” I’m panting. I grab my laptop and call up the diagram labeled “peep show fellatio.” I click the back button on the website—an entire site devoted to every sexual position known to man, complete with animated diagrams, detailed instructions, and message boards—and navigate to the website’s home page. On the left-hand side of the page, there’s a lengthy menu of generalized categories like “face-to-face” and “sixty-nine” and “rear entry,” each category linking in turn to a series of more specific sub-options and demonstrative animations. I click the general link for “fellatio” and twelve animated blowjob diagrams fill the screen.
“What about these? Which of these have you already done?”
He looks through the images, his chest heaving. “Oh man,” he says. “Wow. Look at that one.” His erection twitches. “No. I’ve just had, you know, the basic blowjob—which is fucking awesome and I’m not complaining, believe me. Oh, and that one, of course, standing up like that, but I’d consider that pretty basic. Oh, and that one, too, sitting down like that.”
“But what about this one?” I click on a link.
He shakes his head and laughs. “Nope.”
“This one?”
“Uh, no. I don’t even want to do that one. I’d crush you.”
I look. “Yeah, agreed. Scratch that one. I wouldn’t survive it. But how about this one? Have you done that?”
“Nope.”
“Well, baby, it’s your l
ucky day. Today begins the Twelve Days of Fellatio-Christmas. We’re gonna do each and every one of these variations, right down the line—except ones that might literally crush me.” I laugh. “I might not be able to pull them all off with particular skill...” I glance down at one particularly enigmatic diagram and make a face. “Some of these look really challenging—I don’t even understand how some of these would work from a logistical standpoint—but I promise, I’ll give ‘em the ol’ college try.”
“Sarah, you don’t have to—”
“I want to.”
“Baby, listen, when I go down on you, it isn’t a tit for tat kind of thing. I love eating you out. I get off on tasting you. You’re delicious. I don’t do it to get something in return—”
I bend down and lick the tip of his penis and he instantly stops talking.
I look up at him. “You like tasting me?”
He inhales deeply. “It’s my favorite thing.”
“Well, that’s how I feel about sucking on you. It’s a total turn-on. I fantasize about doing it. I crave it. I dream about it. I like the way you taste. I like the way you feel in my mouth. I like the way you grab at my hair when I’m down there. I like the sounds you make.” I lick him again and he moans. “I feel powerful when I do it—like I own you.”
“Oh fuck, baby, I’m gonna blow my load before you even get started.”
I grip his shaft. “Well, then, I guess we’d better stop talking about it and start doing it. Look at that list again and tell me which one you wanna start with. I’m horny as hell right now.”
He looks at the computer and scrolls urgently through the options, his breathing labored.
“Well?”
“I can’t pick—asking me to pick is cruel.”
“What about this one?”
“Yes, please.”
“Or this one?”
“Yes, please.”
I laugh. “Which one do you want to try the most?”
“That’s like asking me to pick a favorite child. I love all my babies equally.”
I laugh again and take another look through the diagrams.