One and Only(29)

Next time, I want to feel you come on my face.

Next time.

Jane had always viewed fellatio as a necessary chore attached to couple-hood. When she was with Felix, she used to try to space it out. She even had a little internal schedule that he didn’t know about. She’d basically make an effort in that regard every four or five times. She didn’t hate it, but…well, to be honest, it was one more reason to prefer vibrators.

But holy crap, right now? She needed it. She needed to make him feel as good as she did. Heck, she needed to make him feel one-tenth as good as she did. And it wasn’t an “it’s polite to return the favor” kind of need. She wanted it, to come back to his use of the words want and need. What had happened between them had conflated the two concepts, blown apart the dividing lines between them. She didn’t even care that she probably wasn’t that good at it. Her mouth was watering. So she wiggled out of his embrace, turned over so she was facing him, and said, “I want to feel you come on my face this time.”





Holy, holy, holy fuck.

After Jane let loose that astonishingly dirty statement, she wasted no time. It wasn’t five more seconds before her mouth was on him. And there was no warm-up, no teasingly light kisses. She opened her mouth and took him in as deeply as she could.

“Oh Christ!” he shouted.

He was flat on his back on the daybed, and she was straddling his shins and bent over his dick, her hair a curtain of flame that was fucking gorgeous, but also blocking his view. “Wait. I want to see you if you’re going to do that. I need to see you.”

He sat up, intending to scoot back so he was sitting against the back of the daybed and would have a better prospect, but she slid off it entirely, kneeling on the floor and tugging his legs to get him to come sit on the edge.

“Jane, ” he started, but he wasn’t sure what he was trying to say. Maybe that she didn’t have to kneel, but Jesus, to see her like that. She was a perfect hourglass, her waist nipping in between gorgeous full hips and those criminally addictive breasts. And now that her hair was hanging loose around her shoulders, he could see her face. She smiled a little and ran her hands up the tops of his thighs. He feared perhaps this repositioning might mean a loss of momentum, that now she would backtrack and start with the teasing foreplay. Not that there was anything wrong with that. He would take Jane’s mouth on his cock in any configuration she liked. He just—“Oh my God!”

She took him all the way in, as she had before, and began moving her mouth up and down his shaft, but from this vantage point he could see everything. Her cheeks hollowing as she sucked. Her perfect breasts bouncing as she established a rhythm. Her big green-brown eyes looking up at him. It made him realize with a jolt that Christie had always closed her eyes when she was blowing him. But this. This was so much hotter. This was—oh, shit. The pressure had been building all over, in his back, his balls, everywhere. But he’d thought he could hold back, prolong the pleasure. He’d always been pretty good at controlling himself, in the bedroom if not elsewhere. But she was undoing him, tearing him apart.

“Jane, Jane,” he gasped, trying to gently push her away. She pulled up but didn’t move back, kept hold of his thighs with her hands.

And he came for the first time in five months with another person.

“Holy fuck.”





They fell asleep with the light on, a tangle of sweaty limbs on the too-small daybed. When Jane woke up and glanced at the clock she kept on her desk, it was three a.m. She ached all over, her breath was atrocious, and she was pretty sure she had come in her hair.

But she didn’t care. She shifted a little because one of her legs, which had been draped over Cameron, had fallen asleep. She felt like she weighed a thousand pounds, but for once, in a good way. She was heavy with satiation. Well-used.

She almost had her leg free when an arm came out of nowhere and clamped down on it. “Where do you think you’re going?” Her head was tucked under his chin, and she was curled up against his chest, so she felt the words rumbling inside him as he spoke them.

“My leg is asleep,” she said, her voice muffled by his body.

“Mmm.” He stretched in place, then sat up and scooted to the end of the bed and began massaging her leg.

“Oh, you don’t have to…oh!” It felt so good, the pins and needles being worked out by deep, long strokes of his strong hands. So she swallowed her protest and shifted into a sitting position at the other end of the bed, facing him. She had the vague notion that maybe she should cover herself. Or at least suck in her stomach.

She and Felix had never really lounged around naked. She didn’t have a lot of experience with non-sex nudity. But she was still suffused with that languid heaviness. It was too delicious to let go of, and it kept her pinned in place.

“These toes,” he said, having worked his way down to her ankle. “I thought about them all night.” He lifted her foot and, to her utter astonishment, bent over and bit her big toe.

“Oww!” she squealed, though it hadn’t really hurt, had just been a little nip.

He kissed the same spot and began rubbing her foot.

“Do you have a foot fetish?” she teased.

“Not previously.” He wagged his eyebrows.

It did something to her. She was suffused with a sense of gratitude and appreciation. He had been so much like what she expected, and yet not. There had been the confidence, the mastery, his utter control of her body’s response, but also the tenderness. The foot rub, for heaven’s sake. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“What?” He looked up, genuinely confused. Then he grinned and shrugged. “Hey, post-orgasm foot rubs—standard operating procedure.”

“No,” she said, wanting to reward his tenderness with honesty. “I’ve never…had sex like that before.”

“Ha!” he said, giving the arch of her foot an extra-hard squeeze that nearly made her eyes roll back into her head. “So you admit that I was right.”

“About all this doing-it-with-an-actual-human business? Well…” She pretended to think about it. “I didn’t hate it.”

He made a mock-outraged face and nipped another toe.

“It’s funny,” she said, thinking back on the sexual component of her relationship with Felix. “The vibrators became such an issue with my last boyfriend. I tried to introduce them because things were…not really working for me. But he hated them so much that I backed off. Used them privately. I guess I built up this either-or thing in my head. But…” Her face heated thinking back to the way Cameron had tormented her with the vibrator, bringing her closer to the edge, then backing off. And also because here she was again, casually chatting about sex. She didn’t do that. But she also didn’t want to stop. It felt like she was getting a real perspective on things—on her past, on what she wanted out of life.

“Well, as discussed, your ex sounds like a real winner.”

“It was like he was mad that I didn’t just fake it,” Jane said. “I never thought about it in those terms, but I think that would have made things easier between us.”

“Easier, maybe,” Cameron scoffed. “But I personally would rather cut off my dick than know someone I was sleeping with was faking it on the regular.”

“Right?” She laughed. His directness was so refreshing. It had rubbed her the wrong way when they first met, but she was coming around to seeing things his way. There was something liberating about saying what you wanted with no obfuscation. About “opening your eyes and jumping,” to quote him from the CN Tower.

“I’m glad you came to your senses and dumped him. Vibrators are clearly better than he was.”

“I didn’t dump him, actually.” She had no idea why she was saying this. The rational thing to do would be to just let him assume that she’d been smarter and more confident than had actually been the case. But she had literally bared herself to him just now, and she couldn’t seem to stop doing it.

Cameron screwed up his face, trying to make sense of the situation. “So he was a lousy lay, you suggested an avenue for improvement, and then he dumped you? What the hell?”

Jane giggled—his indignation was gratifying. “No. He dumped me a couple years later when I suggested we move in together. Well, that’s not exactly right.” She deserved some credit here. “I did kind of dump him at that point, I guess, but it was only because his reaction to the idea of cohabitation suggested that I was basically nothing more to him than a convenient habit.”

“What?”

Oh, boy. Cameron wasn’t just indignant, he was pissed. His nostrils were flaring and everything. Was it wrong that she liked that? It was one thing for her friends to express outrage about what had gone down with Felix, but for some reason, Cameron’s anger was different.

“Yeah,” she said, warming to her tale of humiliation. “We’d been together six years at that point. We were both twenty-six. Neither of us had a ton of money—I was determined to make a go of it with the writing, but things hadn’t really taken off yet—so it just seemed like the natural next step as well as a financially practical one. It was his birthday, so I took him out to dinner and did this little proposal-type thing. I got us these stupid little matching heart key chains. You know, like we could use them for the keys to our new place?” She scoffed. To think that she’d ever been so naive.