by Jennifer Rae
‘No!’ She schooled her voice as she gripped her bag and coat harder in her hands. ‘No.’ Planting a smile on her face, she moved until she was right in front of him. He didn’t move, just stared down at her, his hands still in his pockets.
‘I haven’t changed my mind, have you?’
He paused for a second, his eyes searching her face. ‘No.’
The lift pinged and Faith moved to the door quickly. Her heart was beating frantically. That familiar feeling of there being something more between them was returning but she had to hold it back. This was just sex. He didn’t want anything more and what she needed was to get through this. To stop wanting more because that was her problem. She always wanted more. She just had to do this—get it done and over before she thought too much. As soon as the door swung open she dropped her bag and coat and reached for him. Her lips landed on his and he responded, grabbing her shoulders and kissing her back deep and hard. She pushed into him, making his back bang against the wall, and his hands moved to her hips. She could feel the bone in his hip against her torso and the long, hard length of him pressed against her. She reached out and gripped him through his trousers, feeling the heat of his penis through the fabric. Immediately his hand came out and grasped her wrist stopping her long strokes.
‘I think we need to slow down.’ His voice was deeper than before and it turned her on even more.
‘No, this is about sex and I just want to have sex. With you,’ she said as her desire overcame her thoughts. She wanted him. Naked and underneath her. On top of her. All over her and she couldn’t wait.
She wasn’t sure where he kissed her. On the mouth, on the eyes, on the neck. His lips were everywhere and his hands removed every inch of her clothing before she knew what was happening. She wanted him naked too. She wanted his hot skin against hers but he stopped and held both her hands. She tried to push back into him, tried to kiss him again but he stopped her—pushing her away easily and twisting her hands behind her back.
‘Wait,’ he said quietly.
She waited, her chest heaving and her breathing ragged. What was he waiting for? Had he changed his mind? Was he going to leave?
‘Let me look at you.’
His words startled her. Look at her? They were in the middle of the most erotic kissing session she’d ever experienced and he wanted to look at her? She didn’t want him to look, she just wanted to do this before she thought too much. Before she started to fall for him because she knew her heart wouldn’t take that pain.
‘Look at me in here.’ She tried to pull his hands and lead him into the bedroom but he didn’t budge.
‘Wait. Not so fast.’ He pulled her back and his eyes roved her face. Then they slid down her body before one of his hands let go of hers and he lifted it to her collarbone. With surprising reverence he ran his fingers across the long bone at the base of her neck. Then he dipped his head and kissed her right at the base of her throat. She was wetter than ever. And swollen and throbbing and she wanted him to get on with it. But he didn’t. His fingers trailed even further down her chest, in between her breasts, before he cupped the left one in his palm.
‘Beautiful,’ he murmured before leaning down and taking her nipple in his mouth. Faith wanted to cry, she wanted to explode, but she didn’t. She moaned. Uncontrollably. Her hands moved to the back of his head as his tongue flicked over her nipple, back and forth and around until she felt the bones in her knees give. But he didn’t stop—he just used his free arm to wrap around her waist and lift her up.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. It was supposed to be hard and fast and she wasn’t supposed to feel anything. Then she could go back to the way it was. She could forget about him and it would be over. But so far—everything he was doing was making her think more and more that this was something more. That this was real. But it wasn’t.
She gripped the hair on the back of his head and pulled, violently. ‘Stop that.’
He looked up in surprise and let her feet drop back down onto the ground. ‘Was I hurting you?’
‘No. You weren’t. But I don’t want you to do that.’
She pushed him away, angry but not sure why. His brow furrowed as she stepped back.
She tried to control her breathing, she tried to relieve the ache in her chest but while she looked at him she couldn’t. She felt a breeze pass by her naked body. She’d been out of control. She couldn’t let that happen. She needed to be in charge.
‘Follow me,’ she said, and kicked her heels off before padding into her bedroom. Pulling the curtains shut, she ordered him onto the bed. ‘Wait there.’
She went into her walk-in wardrobe and reached out for the velvet-covered ottoman before sitting down, her legs shaking and her heart still beating like a bongo drum. She lifted a hand to her forehead. She had to calm down. Stay in control.
She had to think of something. Her eyes searched the small space until they landed on a silk suit hanger. A gift from Betty when she recorded her first story about burlesque. Perfect. It was just what she needed to stop thinking that this was more than just sex.
TWENTY-ONE
Cash fought hard to control the beating in his chest and he fought hard to ignore the uncomfortable tightness in his pants. Faith was beautiful. Even more gorgeous than he’d imagined, and she was hot for him. Out of control. The noises she made and the taste of her skin on his tongue made his brain spiral. All he could think of was her. And he wanted her back in here. Not in there, doing God only knew what. Applying perfume? Shaving her legs? Who knew? But he didn’t care. He wanted her back in here, her small soft body against his. Now.
He took a second to look around. Her bedroom was filled with stuff. Jewellery, clothes, perfume, shoes. Things hung on lampshades but her bed was unusually spare. There were two white pillows and the rest of the linen was white. He liked it. As if this bed was all about the two people who were about to be in it. Nothing else. Just her and him. Naked.
He kicked his shoes off and lay back on the bed, breathing in her scent that lingered on the bedclothes. It made him twitch again. He couldn’t get the way she reacted to him out of his mind. She wanted him as much as he wanted her and that made something grow bigger inside him. And not just what was between his legs. He’d been with women who wanted him before but Faith was different. She was desperate for him. And he was desperate to see her again.
A voice hammered in his brain. The one that told him this wouldn’t end well. The one that reminded him that this was supposed to be just sex. But he ignored it. He wanted her in his arms. Was desperate for her. The way she was desperate for him. Doubts crept into the corners of his mind. He couldn’t want her too much. He couldn’t let her have that power over him. He didn’t want to fall for her.
A few seconds passed before the door of the room she’d escaped to opened and his breath stopped in his throat. She’d let her hair down and it floated over her shoulders. She raised her hands up to either side of the door frame and was smiling at him, a wicked, playful smile that was making him throb. She was dressed in a black string bikini-type thing, wearing the bra he’d caught a glimpse of last week in the boardroom. Two bows covered her nipples and one covered the place between her legs. The place he wanted to get to. The place he wanted to kiss and suck and lave. A moment ago she’d been naked and now she was covered up. His eyes ventured back to her face and he throbbed even harder.
‘How do you like this?’ she asked, her voice innocent but her body looking anything but.
‘I’d like it off.’
‘Patience...’ She stepped towards him, her hips swinging, and looped her thumbs in between the black strings surrounding her breasts and her skin.
He waited. Surely she’d slip that thing off soon. He wanted what was underneath. He wanted to kiss her skin, not the strings of this outfit.
‘Good things co
me to those who wait,’ she scolded when he reached for her.
She turned her back to him and swung her hips—much as the stripper on stage had. It fired his blood. She had a beautiful arse. Round and firm and high. He wanted to touch it but she was just out of reach.
Her hands came around to unhook the contraption at the back and he let out a breath when she turned. But those bows were still there, hiding what he wanted to see.
‘Sex isn’t all about the act itself. It’s about anticipation...’ Her voice was breathy and it was making him even harder. She still swayed and moved but her eyes were set directly on his. He couldn’t wait much longer. If she didn’t get this stuff off, he’d reach for her. Grab her and throw her on the bed. Then he’d kiss her all over.
‘I’ve been anticipating this all day.’
‘You have?’ She raised an eyebrow.
‘Yes.’
‘Why?’
This wasn’t what he wanted. He didn’t want to talk. He wanted to kiss and touch and plunge himself into her. He drew himself up and reached for her and she didn’t resist. He spread his hands around her hips and kneeled up, drawing her body to him.
‘You fascinate me, Faith. You’re interesting and fiery and strong, but soft and vulnerable and I want to know more.’
‘More?’
‘More. I want to know everything. Take this off. I want to see you.’ He leaned forward and kissed her neck. She liked that. She shivered every time he did it. He wanted her to shiver. He wanted her to whimper as she had earlier. Then he wanted her to scream out. Preferably his name, over and over till she disturbed the neighbours and they called the police. He wanted this to just be sex but the more she talked, the deeper he was falling. His hands moved down her body and slid in behind the strings of her complicated underwear but she moved away.
‘You don’t like this?’
‘I do like this. It’s sexy but...unnecessary. I want to see your body. I want to see the curve of your stomach and the way your breasts bounce. I want to touch you, feel how wet you are. I want to kiss your skin. I want to know you, Faith.’
Her eyes met his and locked. ‘Cash...don’t say that.’ She’d gone quiet and stiff. He moved his hands up and rested them on her shoulders. She was upset. He could feel it and he didn’t know why.
‘What is it?’ he asked quietly, tilting his head to look into her eyes. If he could see her eyes, he’d know what she was feeling. Her eyes never lied. ‘What did I say?’
Her eyes went hard. Something changed. This wasn’t Faith. She was thinking again. ‘Faith?’
‘Stop talking,’ she said, and she pushed her hands into his chest. ‘Sit,’ she ordered as he fell back. She took the opportunity to shuffle closer until she was on top of him, straddling him. She grabbed at his belt buckle.
‘Whoa. Hang on. I want this to last.’
‘No!’ Her voice was angry, terse. She ripped at the bows still on her nipples and threw them onto the floor. ‘That’s not what this is about.’
She tugged at his pants again. Her desperation was turning him on. He was rock hard and he helped her ease his jeans down his legs. But she didn’t even wait to take them off. She reached into his boxer shorts and pulled his penis out, holding it in her hand.
‘Faith,’ he murmured, trying to still her hand as she stroked him. ‘Slower...slower. I want to last.’
She licked at his neck and kissed him. Then she bit him and his whole body spasmed. She was horny as hell and hot for him and he wanted her. Bad.
She pushed herself down onto him and his mind went blank for a moment, enjoying the warmth of her as she wriggled against him impatiently.
‘Maybe we should try some of that tantric we learned at Patricia’s,’ he murmured, trying to distract her. Trying to get her to slow down. If she kept going like this he wasn’t going to last long at all and he wanted this to last all night.
But before she even had a chance to answer she’d produced a condom from nowhere, slipped it over his quivering cock, lifted herself up, pushed aside her small panties and slid onto him.
He groaned and gripped the bed. She lifted herself up again and slid down. He held on tight. She was hot and wet and moving so fast his mind was about to burst.
‘Stop, Faith...slow down.’ He grabbed her arm to hold her still but she threw it off. Her breasts rubbed against his stubble. He tried to take a nipple in his mouth—he wanted her to feel this everywhere—but she moved away.
‘Don’t kiss me—just do me,’ she demanded.
He didn’t want to do it like this. He wanted it to last, but her dirty words and her insistence had him aching for release. She pumped him faster and he encouraged her. He forgot to think; all he could do now was feel. Her. Hot and wet and surrounding him. Sucking him and making him blow. Which he did no more than a minute later.
The blood rushed from his groin to his head and he waited until the throbbing subsided.
She tried to push up and off him but he held her still. He wasn’t letting her go. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.
‘What the hell was that?’
‘Sex.’ She was panting and he opened his eyes to see her wide eyed and red cheeked. Beautiful. Hot. But not sated. Not even close.
‘That was fantastic,’ he said with a groan.
She stared at him, her eyes even wider and glassier. He didn’t know what to say. She was disappointed. He’d done what she’d thought he would. Just sex. But he hadn’t wanted to do that. He’d wanted more. So much more.
‘Faith? Just give me a minute. I’ll be ready again in a minute.’ His whole body was limp. He felt boneless but he could go again. He knew he’d only have to kiss her for a few minutes and he could go again. Give her what she needed.
Faith shifted. She moved up and slipped off him. She pushed him away when he reached for her, and righted her underwear. Cash wanted to hold her, he wanted to give her more but she stepped back—out of his reach. He stood and cleaned himself up and she stood watching. It felt cold and awkward and Cash’s stomach clamped. This wasn’t what he wanted. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
TWENTY-TWO
‘Faith...’ Cash reached for her but she stepped away.
‘It’s all right, Cash, you were right.’ She found herself a short silk robe and slid it over her shoulders. ‘Sex can be just sex.’
But that wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted more. He reached for her again but she was too fast.
‘I think you should leave now.’
‘I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s wrong. What was that? Why don’t you want to do this properly?’
‘Did I do it wrong?’ She turned to him, her arms folded and her mouth set in an angry line.
‘No.’ He tried to reach for her again but she moved even further away, out of his reach. ‘Faith, you didn’t do anything wrong, but you didn’t finish. I want you to finish.’
‘Why? What difference does it make? It was just sex.’
Just sex. Those were his words. He’d wanted this. He’d wanted this to be just a night of hot sex, but now he didn’t know what he wanted.
‘You’re angry.’
‘I’m not angry.’
She was angry. ‘I understand how you’re feeling. I get it, Faith.’ He did get it. She’d really wanted to believe this would be more. That was why she was so angry.
Faith closed her eyes and turned her head. She hated him. He could see that.
‘Just go, Cash.’ Her voice sounded strangely calm and it made him want to hold her, but she had her arms wound tight and she wasn’t letting him in. It took a few seconds and a sharp pain in his chest to realise this wasn’t about her show. This was about how she felt. She’d trusted him and he’d let her down and now she didn’t trust him anymore. She didn’t believe in h
im and she definitely didn’t believe in love.
‘Faith...’
‘Go. It was just sex.’ This time her eyes set on his. They didn’t blink. They looked at him intently and he knew they were telling the truth. For her—this had just been sex. He stepped back and scooped his clothes up, all the while keeping his eyes on hers. Watching for any sign that this was more than sex. Any sign that she wanted him to stay. But her eyes remained unmoving and her arms still folded across her chest. That was it. Done. They’d had sex. And it was just sex. He should feel better. He should feel how he normally did when he just had sex. But he didn’t. He felt as if someone had reached into his chest, ripped out his beating heart and thrown it against the wall. Which frightened the hell out of him, so he did the only thing he could think of to do. He left.
* * *
So that was it. That was what ‘just sex’ felt like. Faith was finishing up her voice-overs. She kept making mistakes. She kept saying the wrong thing and repeating herself and she kept going over and over the footage that the camera had captured at the burlesque. Where Cash was talking to her. Where he was kissing her neck.
She had to stop doing this to herself. It was over. And she’d been at this for seven hours. She was tired and frustrated and she wanted to go home. At least she wouldn’t run into Cash out here in the studio. He never came out here. Only the sound guys and the cameramen and the producers came out here and luckily they were all busy today and she was alone.
‘Sexual fantasies are just that. Some women don’t need them to be real for them to be powerful—just the thought of them is enough.’ She listened to her voice play back over the tape. ‘But for others—they’re as necessary as air, as water. So next time you catch your girlfriend yawning as you assume the missionary position—allow her to live out her fantasies and get ready for the hottest sex of your life.’
‘Perfect. Although I’d probably add in a joke at the end. A joke always makes a man feel more comfortable.’
The voice she’d been dreading sounded from the door behind her. He was here and she couldn’t turn around. She wouldn’t. She didn’t want to see him. Or talk to him. Or think about him because in that moment she knew; she knew she’d been right all along. Sex was never just sex.