by Alexis Angel
Jake and Toby do much as they did the last time, throwing out comments about the applicants and sorting them into categories. At one point Toby starts laughing.
“What?” I ask, looking up.
“It’s just funny how all these women like to overanalyze everything. Totally dissect the situation. If they’d just learn to go with the flow, half the world’s problems would disappear.”
My eyebrows fly up. “Oh my god, Toby. Just when I thought you two might actually be some of the most enlightened men I’ve ever met, you go and make some sweeping generalization like that.”
“Are you saying you disagree?” Jake chimes in, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms with an amused smirk on his lips.
“Um, yeah! Hello. That’s like saying that men can’t be rational because they only think with their dicks.”
They both just smile at me.
“What?”
“Well, it’s true.” Jake laughs.
Rolling my eyes, I reach over and make like I’m about to flick him in the head, but he catches my wrist and wiggles his eyebrows at me.
I giggle. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. But still. Women don’t all overanalyze everything. Some of us know how to ‘go with the flow,’ as Toby put it.” I look at him pointedly, not able to fight the flirty grin. “You should know that, Mr. Kent.”
“All too well.” He takes my wrist and flips my hand over, tracing circles on the inside of my arm. It sends a shiver through my body and my pussy starts to pulse and ache with need. It’s just that fast with him. I don’t know if any other man has ever made me so horny this easily. When he lifts my hand to his lips and draws a finger into his mouth, I let out a little moan, and then almost immediately clamp my other hand over my mouth, my eyes flying to Toby.
Jake smirks when he releases me. “See? What did I say? Overanalyzing.”
“Wait, what?” I’m trying to follow his train of thought, but I’m also hyper aware of my aching nipples and dripping pussy.
“You can’t just let go and enjoy yourself because you were thinking about Toby being here. Overthinking is a real problem with some women when it comes to sex. I see it every day.”
“But I don’t...I mean…”
Jake smiles wider, and part of me wants to slug him. A bigger part of me wants to climb in his lap and see where this might go.
“You do. You just don’t realize it. You’re uninhibited enough to let yourself enjoy sex—fucking hot sex, by the way. But part of you still thinks too much.”
I want to argue with him. But he’s kind of right. If Toby weren’t here right now, I’d probably already be naked.
As if he can read my mind, Toby pushes back from the desk and gives me a wink. “On that note, I think I’m going to take a little break and leave you two to take care of the rest of this business.”
If by business, he means sex, I can totally get down with that. I watch Toby leave the room, thinking about what both of them just said.
When it’s just Jake and me, he gives me a knowing look. “What are you thinking about?”
This time I do reach over and slug him, and he just fucking laughs. I’ve been schooled by a fucking love doctor, and I’m not quite sure what to make of it.
Layla
We continue working for the rest of the afternoon and the time seems to fly by as we make our way through the huge stack of letters. It’s amazing how comfortable I feel around Jake. It’s like he just gets me. We talk a little about everything.
He tells me about why he switched from being an art major and moved into psychology. I tell him all about what it’s like working for a government agency.
“You don’t strike me as the type to be a rule-following paper-pusher,” he muses. “Or someone who’s into telling people what is and isn’t okay for them.”
“Oh really? You think you’ve got my number already?”
Shrugging, Jake sets down the letter he’s currently reviewing. “Yeah. You do what you want. You make your own life, play by your own rules. Am I wrong?”
“No,” I say slowly, thinking about it. “But how do you know that?”
“You’re a strong woman. You’ve made a career for yourself. You live on your own terms. You aren’t reliant on a man to make you complete, even though you’re more than willing to make your needs known.”
“Here we go again. Are you going to tell me all about my childhood next, doctor?” I tease.
He laughs. “Not quite. I’m more into finding out how to give you a mind-blowing orgasm than psychoanalyzing you.”
“I think that’s a cause I can fully get behind.” Then, because I can’t keep my curiosity at bay any longer, I ask, “Is it hard to have a relationship in your line of work?”
Which is really my way of secretly prying into his dating history.
“Are you asking me if there’s been someone special in my life?”
Well, so much for being sneaky.
“Honestly,” he says, “yes, but not in the way you mean. My job keeps me busy. I work all the time. I’ve put my career first forever. So no serious relationships, no. But I’m not a monk or anything.”
“Obviously.” I roll my eyes. “You probably hold the world record for hours spent between a woman’s legs.”
Jake laughs. “What about you?”
“Pretty much the same. I’ve spent so much time building my career that I just don’t have time to put into anything serious. I’ve dated plenty of guys, but never for more than a few weeks. It hasn’t been a priority.”
We look at each other for several moments. Finally, I ask the burning question. “Have you ever thought that you might be missing out? I mean, maybe you like being a player and having different women to keep things interesting…” But maybe he doesn’t. “Do you ever wish you had time for more?”
Jake just shrugs, his eyes fixed on mine. I don’t say anything else, wondering if I’ve said too much. If my questions make it obvious that it’s exactly how I feel. I don’t regret putting my career first, but it does get lonely sometimes. It would be nice to have a warm body to come home to at night. One that was good for more than just helping me get off. Though that would have to be a given as well. Obviously.
I clear my throat and look at the stack of letters. We’ve barely made a dent. Probably because we spent more time talking than working.
I can’t get the idea of a warm body in my bed out of my head now that I’ve had the thought, and I glance back up at Jake, my lips curving up slyly. “You hungry?”
He takes the bait, his eyes glittering with naughty intentions. “You offering?”
“Well, I do know how much you enjoy something tasty to eat…”
“I do have quite the voracious appetite.”
“I think I might just be able to help you out with that,” I say. “If I remember correctly, I have some whipped cream at home. I’ve been saving it for a special dessert.”
“Sounds delicious.” Jake looks like he could devour me this second.
“Want to come over to my place for dinner? If you’re an extra good boy, maybe afterward you can have some of that dessert.”
Jake
“This was such a good idea,” Layla says as she chops some peppers.
“Glad you had it,” I tease, pouring two glasses of wine from the bottle she set out.
Her lips curve up, and I can't take my eyes from them. Those lips belong on my cock, but I’m trying my best to restrain myself. I really don’t want Layla thinking I’m only interested in her for the sex. Though she’s just as aware as I am that things are so damn hot between us, it’s only a matter of time before we combust.
“It’s been forever since I’ve really cooked a good meal. And even longer since I’ve done it with someone.”
“Correct me if I’m wrong,” I say, coming around the island in her kitchen and leaning against it as I offer her a glass of wine. She sets the knife down and turns to face me, clinking her glass against mine. “But hasn’t it onl
y been a few days?”
“You know what I mean.” She laughs and swats at my chest, but I grab her wrist and pull, throwing her off balance so that she stumbles against my chest. A chuckle rumbles up my throat, and the way she bites her lip as she looks up at me, her eyes full of naughty intention. “Keep that up and we might not make it to dinner.”
“That’s the idea.”
Rolling her eyes playfully, she takes a sip of her wine, and then turns back to the cutting board. “Grab that pan, will you?” She nods her head toward the rack full of pots and pans hanging above the island.
Reaching over her head, I make sure my entire body presses against her from behind. Layla sucks in a breath when she feels my thick cock press against her ass. It’s been so fucking hard since the minute we got here and I stepped foot inside her apartment.
The knife clatters to the floor, and she turns her head to look at me, her eyes wide with mock-innocence. She lifts her fingers to her mouth. “Oops. Look at me being so clumsy.”
When she bends to retrieve it, her ass pushing back against my cock, I groan, setting the pan aside and gripping her hips.
“Fuck, Layla. I could fuck you so hard right now,” I bite out through gritted teeth. She’s certainly not making it easy on me to show her that I don’t only think about fucking her. Just ninety percent of the time. The other ten percent it’s still there in the back of my head, but I’m able to function somewhat normally.
Pulling away with a giggle, she grabs the pan and puts it on the stove, then turns on the burner to sauté the veggies we’re putting in the pasta. I figure I should probably attend to my job in the kitchen. Layla’s been doing most of the work because I’ve been too busy watching her and thinking about all the places we could fuck in her apartment. The few days since our date have been a few too many.
I grab a pot and fill it with water, then set it on the stove next to Layla’s sauce pan. My job is to boil the water. What can I say? Cooking isn’t exactly my favorite pastime. After I wipe the counter with a towel, I tuck it into my back pocket and settle in behind Layla again, brushing her hair aside to give me better access to her neck.
The half-moan, half-sigh that escapes her lips when my mouth brushes the sensitive skin at the side of her neck is so fucking sexy. I drag my teeth along the flesh, down her exposed shoulder, and then bite gently. Meanwhile, my hands have worked their way around to her chest and are kneading her tits gently. When she relaxes into my arms, I pinch both of her nipples hard.
Her head falls back as she moans, “Jacob.”
Laughing, I murmur, “Still not friends yet, are we?”
She’s so lost in the sensation of my hands and mouth on her body that she doesn’t respond. Not with words. Her body tells me plenty though. She’s pushing back against my cock again, her hips grinding against mine. Her breath is sharp and fast.
I fucking love how responsive she is to me.
Grabbing her hips, I spin her around to face me and lower my mouth to her tits, sucking and biting right through the thin fabric of her dress. The cry that comes from her sexy little mouth makes my cock twitch and throb, aching to feel her wet heat. Desperate to be inside her.
“Oh my god,” she whispers, clutching my hair in her fingers and pulling me harder against her chest.
With one quick movement, I grab her and set her on the kitchen counter, spreading her legs. Her dress rides high on her thighs, and I push it even higher until I have a clear view of her lacy black thong, already soaked through by her drenched pussy.
“Fuck,” I growl. Reaching for the thong, I hook my finger inside and pull. Hard. The sound of the fabric ripping to shreds must make her even hotter for me, because she grabs my head again and starts to pull me toward her pulsing pink lips.
Instead of going down on her yet, though, I make her wait.
“Jacob,” she whimpers, “I need you.”
I lean into her, my hips wedged between her thighs. “How much do you want it?”
Layla reaches around and grips my ass, pulling me tightly against her as she grinds against my cock, my pants the only thing that separates us now.
She grabs the towel from where it’s tucked in my back pocket and tosses it aside, then goes to work unbuttoning my pants and pushing them down around my hips. When my cock is finally free, she stares at it for a moment, her tongue darting out to wet her lips before she meets my eyes with a hungry stare.
I smirk. “That much, huh?”
Her hands wrap around my thick shaft, and just as I’m about to let her do whatever the fuck she wants to me—because holy fuck, does she know how to handle me—a sudden roar to my right grabs my attention.
“Shit!”
“Oh fuck!” Layla yells at the same time. The towel she tossed aside landed right on the stovetop and it’s now literally gone up in smoke. Flames are reaching toward us, and I quickly move Layla aside and grab the towel, tossing into the pot of water that’s just starting to boil.
Just that fast, the entire kitchen is smoky, and Layla runs to the French doors leading out onto her balcony. She flings them open to let the smoke clear before the fire alarms go off.
“I can’t believe that just happened,” she says, her eyes wide with shock.
I shake my head. That was fucking close. “Let’s step outside while the smoke clears,” I suggest, grabbing our wine glasses and heading toward the doors. Dropping a kiss on her cheek, I laugh. “I knew you were hot, baby, but goddamn. You set the whole place on fire.”
“Funny,” she says, but then she laughs. “That was crazy.”
Standing out on her balcony, we look out over Central Park to where the sun is setting further on the horizon.
“Nice view, huh?” she asks.
“Mm, I’d have to agree.”
She looks up at me, and realizing I’m not looking anywhere but at her, smiles slowly. Taking the wine glasses from my hand, she sets them aside.
“Now where were we?”
Layla
“Where we are is hardly as important as where we're going,” Jake says with a sly grin.
My mind starts racing with thoughts about us having sex right out here on my balcony. It's always been my fantasy to have really hot sex somewhere someone might see...and none of my other boyfriends have ever been okay with the idea, worrying about getting caught or just not seeing the thrill in it.
I look at Jake’s cocky smile, and yeah, I’m seeing a lot of potential thrills in fucking him right here, right now. I can tell he’s seeing it, too. I watch, mesmerized, as Jake peels off his clothes, and quickly. I like this whole idea that he’s tearing off his clothes—where someone might see, and even before I’m undressed. I may expose myself with Jake, but I never feel vulnerable with him; I take note of this observation and let it sink into my thoughts for the few seconds before Jake’s fingers are tracing the curve of my neck, and his breath is at my cheek. The mere presence of him arouses me, has me anticipating what comes next.
A man has never touched, teased, and pleased me like he does. I feel like I’m melting into a puddle under his fingers, his touch. A man that I’ve desired has never touched me like this...I want everything and I can’t resist. I knew that fooling around with Jake was a risky idea, but I went for it. I need how he makes me feel, and I can’t think about anything but Jake right now.
“You’re in your head,” Jake tells me, pinching my nipple so hard that I cry out a bit. “You can’t let your head take over what your body needs when you’re going to fuck someone,” he continues, releasing my nipple and making me whimper because I want him to touch me again the instant he stops. “I can get you out of your head...and out of your mind.”
“Oh?” I ask, but I already know the answer isn’t going to be anything he’s going to say to me. Words and your head go hand and hand...just like his hands and my body are perfect when they come together.
He just lets go of my breasts and takes one hand to between my thighs again, this time sliding it under my dre
ss and pressing it right against my drenched thong. His hands make short order of all my clothes but my thong and I love being bare before him—and perhaps the rest of the neighborhood—but right now my body is for him.
“Like this,” he whispers, and then flicks my thong to the side. I grit my teeth and shiver as he runs his index finger over the length of my pussy, his touch so soft and maddening that I can barely think straight. That’s the idea, and it's definitely working. No other man even wanted to explore fucking in such a public place, but not only does Jake want to, but he knows what I need to enjoy it without even having to ask me. There’s a sense that Jake has about my body that is intoxicatingly accurate. He knows everything I desire before I can even think it.
When his finger finally finds my clit, he starts circling it smoothly, and a subtle moan flies out from between my lips. Then, moving fast, he flattens the palm of his hand against my pussy. I let out another gasp and, as I do it, he parts my inner lips with one finger and starts pushing it in. Hissing through my gritted teeth, I feel my insides burning up as he pushes his finger all the way in.
Reaching for my clit with his thumb, he starts fingering me while rubbing there. I thrust back against him like I did in the kitchen, eager to feel his body tightly pressed against mine, and my mind almost explodes as I feel his hard cock. Its shape fits right between my ass cheeks, and it feels even bigger than I remember it being. The moment I saw Jake for the first time, I wanted him, despite the reality of our situation. What we did in the restaurant...it wasn’t familiar territory for me. Everything with him so far is absolutely new ground for me, ground that I want to explore. I'll do anything with Jake as my guide, no problem. When he spins me around, that confident look that always seems to be plastered on his face is right there, and I'm grateful to have him here. Not to mention excited.
Breathing softly, his hands go down the side of my body, and he rests his fingers over the dimples on my lower back.