by Virna DePaul
When our time was over, I thanked Harry and said goodbye. Then I headed to the restroom, checked my makeup, and sent Ellis a quick text.
TESSA: Harry will not, in fact, be making the lineup.
ELLIS: Why not? Tiny feet and hands?
TESSA: Snort. Nah, I don’t care about size, but there were no sparks. And he has no imagination.
ELLIS: So not the kind to get you off by sexting?
TESSA: lol. Pretty sure ‘suck me baby, I wanna come in your mouth’ would be something Harry would never type.
Ellis took a moment to respond.
ELLIS: If a man wouldn’t be able to text you something along the lines of, ‘I want to bury my face between your thighs and lick your pussy until your clit becomes engorged, then I want to suck your clit until you come so hard you see the heavens,’ then a man isn’t worthy of you.
A rush of wetness hit my core and I squeezed my legs together.
TESSA: Gotta go. Date #2 about to arrive. Don’t ask about my neighbor.
ELLIS: Wait—you mean Jamie? Something you’re not telling me??!?!?!?!?!?
TESSA: ttyl
I poked my head out and peeked back into the bar. Harry was long gone.
Jamie, however, was still in the bar.
I made my way back over to “my” table to wait for Sex Study Participant Contestant Number Two, Sawyer, and hoped Jamie would remain onstage, behind his drum set. I checked my phone and realized I had five minutes until Sawyer was due to show. My scheduling skills were rather impressive. I supposed that if I had to move up north to live with my parents, I could always find an administrative job somewhere.
“Harry was nice.”
My hand clutched my heart and I jumped in fright: goddamn Jamie was next to me, straddling a backward-facing chair with an almost empty beer bottle in his fist. The size of his hand made it look like a child’s toy, which instantly had me imagining how that gigantic hand would look on my body.
I smoothed my hair back, shoved thoughts of Jamie’s hand on my body out of my mind, and sucked in a calming breath.
“What are you doing out here, Jamie?” I grumbled, forcing myself to look away from his huge tattooed biceps. “You scared the hell out of me. And you knew I was coming here on dates. Why are you bugging me?”
Jamie refused to acknowledge or accept social cues any normal person would pick up on and respect. He was an Irish giant who did whatever the fuck he wanted.
And it kind of turned me on.
“And yes, Harry is a nice guy,” I said, glancing up at Jamie’s eyes.
That was my first mistake. The way he was looking at me was like a bolt of lightning. His eyes traveled up and down my body before he met my eyes and grinned.
My second mistake was speaking. “You wouldn’t know anything about being a nice guy,” I snapped out.
Jamie’s grin increased as his eyes flashed. “No, Twyla, I wouldn’t.”
Those words alone raised hairs all along my arms, my legs, my spine. Everywhere tingled, which wasn’t the problem. It felt delicious. I wanted to feel like that every moment of every day. No, the problem was that Jamie knew it.
Jamie knew he made me feel more with four low spoken words than thirty minutes with Harry had.
Just then the pub’s door opened, spilling in light, and Jamie’s eyes shifted to glance over my shoulder. He laughed before standing up, then one-handedly flipped the heavy chair back into its proper position. I heard his drums erupt as I stood to greet Sawyer. Oh good grief—no wonder Jamie had laughed: the man held roses and wore a Taylor Swift concert T-shirt.
Sawyer was sweet. He wanted me to know first and foremost that he was a feminist and wrote for a feminist literary magazine and walked in women’s’ marches and helped organize women’s’ marches and shouted in women’s’ marches. Yep, Sawyer was the kind of guy who would buy you chocolate and make you pasta and watch chick flicks with you when you were on your period.
I glanced at the time on my phone and grimaced. Time to get this show on the road and see if Sawyer had the magic sauce.
“Kiss me,” I requested, attempting to add a tone of both allure and sweetness to my voice.
Sawyer smiled and reached his hand over to squeeze mine quite sweetly. “It’s the first date, and I like to respect women’s boundaries,” he said.
“Yeah, yeah,” I said, nodding in agreement. “That’s great. But I’m clear on my boundaries. And I’d love it if you kissed me.”
Sawyer again sweetly declined.
Thirty minutes later, I watched in relief as Sawyer left. Again, I ducked into the bathroom and texted Ellis.
TESSA: Fingers crossed for Levi.
ELLIS: What about Jamie?????
TESSA: Nothing. He’s just here, is all. Being all judgy and stuff.
ELLIS: Maybe that’s a good thing.
I frowned. When had Ellis and Jamie become such buds?
TESSA: He’s bugging me.
ELLIS: He’s looking out for you. What about Sawyer?
TESSA: Ugh. Cute, but no sparks, no imagination, no guts, no glory. Doesn’t fully understand feminism. He’s the kind of man who probably believes sexting is disrespectful to women.
ELLIS: But you don’t.
TESSA: It’s growing on me.
ELLIS: (. . . .) Uh, that wasn’t you sexting right now, was it?
I burst out laughing.
TESSA: ttyl
I slipped my phone back into my purse and stepped into the hallway.
“I liked him.” Jamie was leaning against the hallway wall.
I sighed and shoved a hand through my hair. Would this man ever leave me alone? “No line for the men’s room,” I said pointedly.
“He could read some Virginia Woolf during the sex study,” Jamie said, not fazed at all by my cold shoulder. “That’s what most sex studies are missing: some Virginia Woolf.”
I pushed aside my surprise that Jamie had any clue who Virginia Woolf was and headed back into the pub to my table, Jamie hot on my heels.
“He might cry after you fuck him, though, so I guess just remember to bring a hankie or some—”
“Levi! Hi,” I practically shouted as a lanky guy with a tweed jacket and glasses came up to me.
“She’s a biter,” Jamie said to him before I could shove him inside.
“He’s joking,” I laughed, smiling at Levi. Before I sat down next to Levi, I pointed a finger at Jamie. “Fuck off, you Irish oaf,” I hissed.
He blew me a kiss before sauntering toward the bar, the sound of his laughter trailing after him.
Levi was smart.
Mathias was funny.
Ricardo was hot, like really, really hot.
None of them were lightning.
None of them were noise.
None of them were my rude, Irish neighbor.
None of them were my passionate yoga instructor.
None of them were my very best friend.
None of them made me feel alive and covered in diamond dust the way Cade did.
None of them sparked insatiable lust in me like Jamie.
None of them made me feel both safe and hot-and-bothered, cherished and loved, the way Ellis did.
None of them were who I needed.
It suddenly struck me, how lucky and unlucky I was. I had the perfect trifecta of men for my sex study. Cade had already jumped in to the mix for which I was eternally grateful. How awesome would it be if Jamie and Ellis wanted to be a part of it, too?
And how delusional was I to even think that would ever happen?
Jamie
I sat behind my drum set in the dark of my unlit apartment, pounding out a beat, but knowing that no matter how hard I pounded, I couldn’t get Tessa and her series of dates in the pub out of my mind.
I’d pounded on the drums and imagined those men touching her and kissing her and undressing her and before I knew it I’d kicked a hole through my bass drum. Not because I was jealous. Because none of those guys could touch her the way sh
e wanted, kiss her the way she wanted, rip her dress in half the way I saw in her eyes she wanted.
None of them could make her scream the way I could.
When she left the pub, I’d left, too, keeping a good distance between us as I followed her home, but there to beat the shit out of anyone who tried to mess with her.
I’d taken the stairs, needed to pound out some of this energy buzzing through my veins. And yet when I got into my apartment, I could hear Tessa moving around in hers. I sat down at my drum set and tried to play something, anything to get her off my mind.
Fat chance.
I was bat-shit crazy for her. The way she didn’t look at me until she thought I couldn’t see when we passed in the halls, the sway of her hips when the elevator broke again and I happened to be behind her on the steps, hell, even the way she fucking opened her mailbox—it all made me want to blow out my windows as I destroyed yet another drum kit. I’d jacked myself raw imagining her writhing beneath me, her tits bouncing as I pounded into her, or her pressed against the wall between our apartments, our bodies sweaty, our hearts thundering.
I’d tried telling myself it was all physical, but it was just bullshit.
Wanting to fuck her hadn’t been what had prompted me to visit Henry last week and offer to pay Tessa’s overdue rent so he didn’t have to evict her. And wanting to fuck her hadn’t been what had almost made me throat punch Henry when he’d refused. The only thing that had stopped me was the real regret on Henry’s face when he’d told me they’d already found another tenant to take Tessa’s place and the lease had been signed.
So yeah, it wasn’t just physical for me.
Fuck it. I couldn’t take this anymore.
I flung my drumsticks aside, got up from my drum set and stomped across my apartment, down the hall, to bang on her door. “It’s Jamie,” I yelled. “We need to talk.”
In an instant, Tessa threw open her door. She wore a tight, thin white tank top that exposed her dark and hardened nipples, and flowered short-shorts that I assumed were some sort of pajama set. Sexy as fuck.
She opened her mouth to say something, then stopped and frowned in confusion. “Why are you so out of breath?” she finally asked.
I move closer to her, and she stayed put, her eyes wide as she stared up at me, but not backing up an inch. I caught the hitch of arousal in her breath, and my dick twitched in excitement.
“Where do I put my application?”
“What application?” She made a show of crossing her arms in irritation, but I saw the flash of desire in her eyes. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”
“Where do I put my application for this sex study of yours?”
Tessa raised an eyebrow, but her eyes were sparkling and the corners of her mouth tipped upward. I saw her real emotion: she wasn’t confused. She was aroused.
Fuck, I was, too.
She tried to laugh. It was a last, weak attempt to stop the train from flying off the rails out of control. But we both knew it, there in the hallway, only inches apart: there was no stopping this goddamn train.
We were going to crash. And it was going to be fucking beautiful.
“There is no application. And even if there was, I certainly would not be accepting an application from an asshole like y—”
Before she could finish her sentence I slipped my hand behind her neck and pulled her toward me. “You want me,” I murmured.
She gasped, gulped for breath, but her gaze never left mine. A beat passed, then another, and then she said, “God knows why, but yes, I want you.”
I tilted her head up to devour her lips and she moaned into my mouth. With a hand on the small of her back I pressed her even tighter against me, enveloping her in my arms. I flicked my tongue against hers, making her moan. Biting her lower lip, I tugged until she hissed and her nails dug into my back.
This only caused me to bite down harder as I turned, pushing her against the hallway wall, and pressed myself tight against her. Her back arched as I slipped my fingers inside her white tank top. The skin at her stomach was fine as silk and blood rushed to my groin.
After what felt like an eternity but had to only have been minutes, we both came up for breath, gasping and heaving. She looked up at me, passion clouding her eyes, and she gifted me with a slow and seductive smile. I knew what I wanted, and I was ninety-nine point nine percent certain of what she wanted. But I needed her to say the words.
“That, Tansy, was my application. So what’s it going to be? Are we fucking now, are we fucking later, or are you tearing my application in two and telling me to walk away for good?”
Chapter 12
Tessa
My neighbor is a Neanderthal. He’s a lout, has no manners, and pushes my buttons every chance he gets. He spied on me during my speed dating night. Wrote a song called “Sex Study Neighbor.” And not once has he called me by my real name.
So yeah, I should not lay my hands flat against his massive chest, right over the tattoo of the Irish flag and some redheaded woman’s giant bare breasts. I should not push him back, into my apartment.
I should definitely not snake my hand around his torso, slide it over his ass, and kick the door shut behind me.
And I should, above all else, not, I repeat not, send him stumbling inside my living room and follow hungrily after him.
Because then there is no going back.
Good thing I had no desire at all to go back. I wanted to dive in, get pulled under, get lost and go wild. Back was not what I wanted.
I needed this. I needed powerful arms gripping my shoulders and pinning me to my wall. I needed hungry, ravenous, lust-filled eyes roaming my body. I needed calloused and inked and unstoppable hands ripping my tank top and exposing my heaving breasts.
I needed now: wild and savage and devouring now. I needed rough and dangerous. I needed grunts and moans and panting, lots of panting. I needed Jamie.
“We’re going to fuck right now,” I proclaimed. “And later.”
Jamie sucked at my neck, his tongue hot and wet and insatiable, then suddenly pulled back and gave me a wicked grin.
“You sure?” he asked, voice thick and low.
“I’ve accepted your application,” I breathed, trying to pull his tree trunk of a neck down again.
I needed his tongue back on my skin. It didn’t matter where. I just needed it somewhere. And now.
But Jamie didn’t relent. Instead he rolled his hips against mine, pressing his throbbing cock against me.
I squirmed and practically pawed at him. I didn’t know how long I could survive without his cock inside me. He obviously knew this and yet pushed me tight against the wall to keep an agonizing inch of open space between us.
“The study has a $32,000 stipend,” I panted, trying to distract myself from the need burning inside me. “That means eight thousand bucks per participant. But there will be other foursomes applying, so it’s not a done deal.”
Jamie laughed. He grabbed my chin tightly and lifted it so my eyes met his. “You really think any of this has to do with money?”
I moaned as I arched my back, my nipples yearning to graze against his muscular, bare chest. He pulled back just enough that I was denied even that small bit of friction.
“Please,” I moaned.
Suddenly he barked out a laugh. “Hold up—did you say a foursome? You, me, and two other women? Fuck, this is grand.”
“You, me, and two other guys, actually.”
He shrugged. “So long as I’ll be fucking you, it’s all good.”
“Um…” My mind was spinning, and I couldn’t stop panting. “Too much talking,” I managed to say.
“Tell me I have you for the whole night,” Jamie commanded.
My hips bucked toward him, but he pulled away again, just enough that I couldn’t reach him. He knew exactly how far to move in order to pull a desperate whimper from my lips.
“Tell me,” he said again.
I reached for Jamie again but
he grabbed my wrist and held it over my head against the wall. I slammed my head back in frustration. Jamie’s grip on my wrist tightened and I looked down to see him palm his erection over his low slung jeans.
It was my turn to grin. I needed him. But he needed me, too.
“Maybe I have another date lined up,” I said, straining my neck to move my face right up next to his, so close I could count his light freckles.
This wasn’t true, of course. But New Tessa was on a roll, and I was going with it.
“Maybe he’s coming any minute now,” I continued. “Maybe I want him to walk in and see you fucking me like you’ve never fucked any other woman.” I didn’t know I could even think those words, much less hear them come out of my mouth. All I knew was that it was causing Jamie to bite his lip and dig his nails into the sensitive skin around my wrist. New Tessa was impressive.
“Tell me more,” he growled out.
“I want him to see you on top of me on my table, your teeth around my nipple, your hands tugging at my hair, your cock driving into me.”
I bucked my hips, groaning when I felt how hard he was for me.
“I want him to see us together,” I whispered. “And I want to see him get hard at the sight of it.”
Jamie’s resolve broke. With a savage growl, he dug his fingers into the flesh of my thighs and picked me up. His lips devoured mine greedily as I wrapped my legs around his waist and ran my fingers through the soft red hair at the nape of his neck.
Jamie’s lips moved their way down my jaw, then down my throat to nip at my collarbone. My head fell back and a loud moan escaped my lips when Jamie’s tongue found its way to my exposed breast. My nipples were hard; they had been hard since Jamie came out of his apartment breathless with hunger in his dark green eyes. He swirled his hot tongue in circles again around the sensitive bud and I had to clamp my hand over my mouth to muffle the loud, eager sounds pouring out.
But Jamie removed a hand from one thigh, holding me with just a single, strong arm, and used that freed hand to pull mine from my mouth.
“I want to hear you,” he said, voice rough like he’d just finished a three-hour rock concert in some smoke-filled bar.