by Lynn Burke
Lower lip between her teeth, she squirmed on the couch, same as when I’d caught her drooling over sex toys online.
“Is my touch still gentle?” I asked, my attention glued to the hand moving beneath her shirt, hiding one of the hard nipples pressing against the cotton.
“N-not so much.” Her needy tone brought another groan to my lips.
“What else do I do in your dreams?”
Face red, she closed her eyes. “You suck on my breasts. Bite my nipples.”
“And do you like it?”
“Yes,” she gasped and clenched her legs together.
Fucking heaven, I mused, watching her touch her breasts. I’d never wanted a woman so much in my fucking life. “Are you turned on right now?”
She swallowed and nodded.
“Where else do I touch you, Jasmine?”
“D-down there.”
Fuck, yes. “Lift your skirt and show me.” Every tense muscle in my body ached to move, but I held myself still. Waiting.
She didn’t even hesitate, but shimmied the skirt up to her hips.
Pink, fucking panties.
With one finger, she skimmed down the lace covering her pussy from me.
“Goddamn,” I groaned, my own fingers digging into my knees.
She slid her fingertip beneath the edge of her panties and rubbed up over her clit, a gasp parting her lips and tipping her head back.
I found myself stroking my cock through my jeans. “Do I make you come in your dreams, Jasmine?”
“Yes,” she whispered, eyes still clenched shut.
“Show me how.”
With one hand, she pulled her panties to the side. Pink lips glistened beneath a thatch of blonde curls.
Drooling, I stroked myself and stared as she pressed two fingers of her right hand into her pussy.
She moaned, slowly fucking herself with her fingers, hips grinding her against her hand.
“I want to watch you come, Jasmine,” I murmured, lifting my attention to her face as little noises flew past her parted lips. “Open your eyes and look at me.”
Panting, she did as told, hazed, pale-green eyes peering my way. A sharp inhale lifted her chest, and her back bowed off my couch. “O-oh!” Her breath caught again, and she shuddered, crying out.
I squeezed my cock to keep from blowing my load in my jeans, my blood rushing and ears ringing as she slowly settled, her breaths slowing. “If you ever decide you want me to touch you for real,” I murmured, “you only need to ask.”
Praying to God she’d ask right then and there, I held my breath.
Red faced, she wiped her fingers off on her panties and tugged her skirt back into place. “I should go,” she whispered, keeping her head down.
“Jasmine.”
Her breath caught again and she clutched her hands on her lap, but she lifted her gaze.
“Are you okay?”
She nodded.
“You sure?”
“Yes.” A small smile lifted her lips. “More than okay, actually.”
I returned her smile although my balls fucking ached. “I’m not sorry about what just happened.”
“Neither am I.”
Our smiles faded as we stared at each other, the clock ticking away without a care in the world. I wanted to tell her that I was serious about my offer. I wanted to get on my knees—which I never did for anyone—and beg her to let me touch her. Grovel, plead … fuck, did I want her.
Self-control, Fox.
I didn’t move.
“I’ll see you Wednesday?” I finally broke the silence between us, needing to know that everything really was good between us.
A smile lifted her plump lips. “Of course.”
I released the breath I hadn’t realized I’d held. “Sweet.” Clearing my throat, I stood. “I’ll walk you out.”
She glanced at my straining cock, and fuck me, if she didn’t lick her lips.
Groaning, I motioned toward the door. “Come on, before I consider breaking my promise.”
Lower lip between her teeth, she scurried into the kitchen and grabbed her purse.
“Are you okay to drive?” I asked, leading her out the front door rather than through the office again.
“I only drank the one glass. I’m fine.”
I shoved my hands in my pockets once we reached her car and stepped back out of her way. “Be careful. Drive safe.”
“I’m always careful.” She climbed into her car. It roared to life, but she hesitated, hands on the steering wheel, peering at me.
I nodded toward the driveway and mouthed, “Go.”
Fingers fluttering my way, she backed away, leaving me aching. Her tail lights disappeared, and I turned back toward the house, bypassing the dirty dishes and my wine.
Hot water rained on me in my shower seconds later, and a handful of strokes down my cock drew up my balls and shot ropes of cum against the tiled wall.
Wasn’t nearly as satisfying as I’d hoped. I still ached for Jasmine—and not just in my balls and cock. My fucking chest hurt, and while thrilled I’d gotten to see her come, it wasn’t nearly enough.
Chapter Eight
Jasmine
I had wanted Micah to touch me. Anxiety, my old friend, hadn’t reared its ugly head even as he walked me to my car. I hadn’t wanted to leave. I’d considered climbing back out and testing myself further, but he’d told me to go.
Masturbating in front of Micah was the hottest thing I’d ever done, and I wanted more.
I pulled into my parents’ driveway almost a half-hour later, my pussy once more throbbing. The second I climbed from the car, a shiver pebbled my skin even though summertime heat licked my skin in the clear night air.
I glanced around our neighborhood while slinging my purse over my shoulder, the back of my neck tingling. My feet moved as fast as my thumping heart, and I locked the front door behind me. Another shiver sent a tremor down through my body.
“Jasmine? That you?” Mom called from the kitchen.
Drawing a deep breath, I told myself to calm down. “Yes, Mom.”
“Sorry you had to work late,” she said. “I saved a plate for you.”
“I-I grabbed something on the way home.” Lying hadn’t ever been an issue for me, but I didn’t want to share what I’d been up to.
Pulling my phone from my purse, I headed up the stairs. I chewed on the inside of my lip, considering.
Thank you, I finally texted once I locked myself in my bedroom.
Leaning against my door, I stared at my phone. The ding caused me to jump.
Micah: Any time.
I groaned and put my phone down so I wouldn’t be tempted to text him back letting him know I wanted to take him up on his offer.
****
My nerves got the best of me on Wednesday. I unlocked the office and let myself in, my chest tight. No Micah, but the door to his lair stood open. Hands shaking, I put my purse away and turned on the computer. I punched in the code for the voice mail and struggled to keep my writing legible while jotting down messages and notes of who needed to be called back.
The scent of freshly brewed coffee filtered past my nose, and I waited.
Legs a jelly-like mess, I walked into Micah’s office and placed the messages on his desk. He’d already been in—his computer hummed and an open order and pen lay atop his desk. He never left unfinished business like that.
I returned to my office and glanced out into his living room. “Micah?”
He didn’t answer, and I wrung my hands, considering. Shaking my head, I sat back at my desk and forced myself to focus on getting the payroll done. Twenty silent, tense minutes later, the sound of his footsteps finally reached my straining ears.
“Morning,” he said.
I turned toward the door and smiled, my heart pounding inside my chest. “Morning.”
Barefoot as usual, jeans, and an entirely too-tight t-shirt. I wanted to touch.
“I brought you a coffee.”
&nbs
p; “Thanks.”
He held it out to me, brow raised, his hand clasped around the entire mug.
Do it, I told myself. My hand shook, but I brushed my fingers across his while taking the mug, gasping at the zap of very non-anxiety-like electricity that raced through me.
“Okay?” he asked, studying my face.
Lightness flooded my chest, and although I shook like a leaf during a storm, I smiled. “Yes.”
“Sweet.” Grinning, he ambled into his office.
I slumped back in my chair, biting my tongue to keep my giggles contained. I’d touched a man without losing my shit. Fist to my mouth, I decided I wanted to try again—as soon as I got the chance.
****
The morning sped past in a blur of numbers, phone calls, and files. My face hurt from smiling, but by five, my nerves returned enough to bring back the jitters in my stomach.
Micah had acted the professional all day long. We’d even gone out to grab a sub together, but he kept his distance—and professional tone of voice. No sexual innuendos. No suggestive offers to help me take the next step.
I shut down my computer, heart in my throat, and moved into his open doorway. “I’m heading out,” I somehow managed to get passed my lips.
He glanced at his watch and lifted his head to meet my gaze. “Come here.”
My legs shook as I moved forward, but he rolled back on his chair and spun, motioning me around the desk rather than in front of it.
I stopped a couple feet away from his knees, heat racing through my body, settling between my thighs.
Micah lifted his hand out, fingers splayed, and peered up at me.
The chicken part of me wanted to spin and take off. The woman part of me, the desire to heal and move on, kept me from running. He wasn’t offering a hand to pull me closer. He offered his hand for me to test myself. My decision. My lead.
Stepping closer without thought, my gaze latched on his hand, I lifted my own. I brushed a fingertip across his wrist, and a shot of that same electricity-like energy crackled down through my body. I held my breath and slowly slid my finger down across his palm, to the tip of his middle finger.
I stepped back, my breath leaving in a rush as I dropped my hand to my side.
“Wasn’t so bad, was it?” he asked, his voice gruff.
“No.”
“Do you want to touch me again?”
Chewing on the inside of my lip, I nodded.
Micah gripped his arm rests. “Go ahead. I promise I won’t touch you unless you ask me to.”
Heart racing, I moved to his side and reached out to run my fingers along the hair he had pulled back in the usual man bun. “Silky soft,” I heard myself murmur while smiling.
Micah lifted his head, his gaze on my lips, and I moved my fingers over his forehead.
He sighed, but continued to peer up at me, that energy still crackling, heating my blood.
My touch slid down his temple, to the close-clipped sideburns.
“Not quite as silky,” I said on a half-giggle of pure nerves bordering on hysterics. My fingers continued as if on their own, along his jaw to his bearded chin. I paused, my gaze glued to his lips, my smile fading.
Wetness soaked my panties. My pulse thrummed in my ears, and I wanted nothing more than to kiss him. Taste a man’s lips out of want, not because some sicko threatened to kill me if I didn’t.
My hand fell away, and I shuffled back a couple steps. Ears suddenly ringing, I drew a deep breath, thankful at least, that my chest didn’t tighten. “I need to go,” I heard myself say.
“I’ll walk you out.” Micah stood, and I spun, counting in as I breathed. Counting down as I exhaled.
“Jasmine?”
I grabbed my purse off the desk and stopped, eyes clenched shut.
“You okay?”
“Y-yes. Just reached my limit for the day.” A burst of the half-hysterical laughter flew from my lips, and I clasped a hand over my mouth.
Micah stepped closer as if to reach for me, but I stepped back and shook my head.
“I-I’m okay,” I said, my voice shaking as I clutched at the strap of my purse.
He peered at me, hands fisted at his sides, brow furrowed. “You sure?”
I inhaled until my lungs burned and let the air escape until my shoulders slumped. “Yes.”
With a single nod, he moved to the office door and let us out. The sun still shone hot, heat waves shimmering up from his tarred driveway, heating through my flip flops in a matter of seconds.
“Goddamn, it’s hot,” he grumbled.
I climbed into my car and turned it on, lowering all of the windows to let the heat out. “Thank you, Micah.”
He smiled. “Like I said, any time.”
Chapter Nine
Micah
I wanted to rip her little summer skirt off and fuck her against the wall—the door—on the floor. Hell, I just wanted inside of her sweet body. Those damn skirts, cute little tops that hugged her curves. Flip flops beneath her pink-painted toe nails. She’d even started leaving her hair down.
Golden waves that wafted her flowery perfume every time she moved her head.
Goddamn, something has to give. Celibate for over three months, and I’d been jerking off so damn much, my wrist hurt.
Jasmine had taken some major steps in recovery since meeting me, but how far would she go before her mind shut her down to the point of a panic attack? She’d talked herself out of one after touching my face. She’d held on, and I couldn’t have been more proud of her—and worried.
I wanted her, but I cared about her recovery more than my own needs. Jasmine came first, and I could wait.
She would be worth the suffering of blue balls.
****
Friday morning, I rushed to get all of my work buttoned up for the weekend. At noon, I poked my head out of my office door. “Let’s shut down the office at two and get the hell out of here.”
“Oh.” She turned from her desk.
“Late lunch. Care to join me?”
“A company meeting?”
I grinned. “How about a date?”
Pink flushed her cheeks. “Okay.”
The next two hours dragged, and my knee bounced under my desk and as I went through the weekend’s schedule, and the mass of clients Elite had lined up. Once sure everything should be fine, I shut down my computer, set the phone to forward to my cell, and hurried out to the main office.
“Ready?”
Jasmine nodded and gathered her things.
We walked out into the heat, and I grimaced. “We’re going someplace nice that has good air conditioning.”
She laughed. “You don’t like summer?”
“I do, but these heat waves suck ass.”
Her continued laughter tingled through my chest, and I smiled.
We went to the North End and devoured a basket of freshly baked bread along with the manicotti we’d both ordered in the brick basement of a family-owned Italian restaurant. Cups of coffee and tiramisu sat in front of us as we lingered, chatting.
She’d gone all curious on my ass, asking about my family.
“See them often?” she asked and slid her fork into the dessert we’d agreed to share.
“Every couple of weeks I have them over for Sunday dinner.”
“Your sister, too?”
I stared as she put the fork in her mouth, her lips closing over the bite of tiramisu. “Her and her boyfriend Brad.”
“Mmm.” Jasmine’s eyes closed and she smiled. “So good…”
My cock jerked, jealous over her mouthful of food.
“You know”—she licked her fork clean and eyed my hand resting on the small table between us—“I keep thinking I imagined touching you.”
“And I keep thinking about your cries as you came on my couch.”
Her breath hitched, and she slowly lowered the fork to the table. She glanced around the room, but I didn’t give a shit if the other early diners heard our conversation.
>
“Go ahead.” I didn’t move, but waited for her to take another step.
She bit her lip, but ran her fingers over the back of my hand.
I wanted to tell her how much she turned me on with a simple touch, but I went for something I hoped would have more impact. “I would love to have you over some Sunday to meet them.”
Her fingers paused as she lifted her head, but she didn’t pull away. “You want me to meet your family?”
“Yes.”
She smiled, her eyes shining in the candle light between us, and her hand lowered to rest against mine. “Okay.”
I grinned, suddenly wanting to finish up and head back out into the heat. “You going to eat that?” I asked, nodding toward the barely-touched dessert.
Jasmine sat back, hand on her stomach. “I want to, but I’m so damn full.”
I grabbed my wallet and threw a couple bills on the table. “Let’s get out of here.”
Chapter Ten
Jasmine
Micah pulled his car around into the garage. I wasn’t quick to climb from the car, and neither was he. I glanced at the door leading into the house.
“Want to come in?” he finally said.
“Yes,” I replied without hesitation.
He let us into the house and tossed his keys on the island.
I stepped close behind him and laid my palm on his shoulder blade. The heat of his skin through the t-shirt covering his muscles seared my hand as he stilled. Lip between my teeth, I ran my hand across the breadth of his shoulders, my fingers dipping in and around the tense muscles beneath my touch. Down the back of his arm and back up again.
Stepping even closer, I laid my purse on the island, the warmth of his body caressing the front of mine although we didn’t touch.
I reached for the band holding back his hair and tugged it free. His head tilted back as I ran my fingers through the long locks.
Nothing but arousal and need swarmed through me. No anxiety, no nervousness beyond the unknown of what might happen in the following minutes.
I traced his ear with my fingertip, and a shudder rippled down through him. I caressed his neck, and he leaned into my touch.
Unsure of what steps I ought to take next, I moved back.