Sure Thing(6)

I spread her apart with my thumbs and now I’m thankful for the light, neon or otherwise, peeking into the room from the street. Lovely. She’s so fucking lovely. She’s completely smooth and I want to cover every inch of her with my mouth, my tongue. She’s already wet and I’ve barely touched her, her arousal glistening at me like a dirty gift.

I place my tongue on her and run it slowly from top to bottom. By the time I pull her clit between my lips her hands are in my hair. Within another minute she’s got one foot flat on the bed for leverage while the heel of her other foot is pressing into my back.

Her enthusiasm is irresistible, her scent intoxicating. She really is a gift I wasn’t expecting tonight.

I slip a finger into her and she moans something about Jesus. That won’t do.

“Jennings,” I remind her. Her eyes are glazed and it takes her a moment to focus on the fact that my tongue is being used for talking instead of where she wants it.

“Right.” She blinks. “Right, I didn’t forget. I can call you Jennings, sure.”

She’s an odd little duck. A cute vixen with a dash of sexy and I want more. God, I want her. I keep my eyes on her as I slip my finger back into her wet heat. I love the feel of the inside of a woman—the warmth and texture, the slickness of her lubrication. I miss the feel of a woman bare against my cock with nothing between us. Fuck, it’s been forever since I’ve felt that. Not that I’ll be feeling it tonight either. I’m not an idiot.

But when I suck her clit between my lips again while pressing two fingers on that tiny bundle of nerves inside of her and she screams my name, I sort of wish I was.





CHAPTER THREE


Violet

Oh, holy hell.

That thing he just did was like a public service—a public service that should be open to all women, everywhere. Regardless of political party, race, religion or border. It should be law or something, I think with a laugh as I throw an arm over my eyes. I wonder what else this guy can do? How did he know how to get me off so quickly? We’re not even done yet and this has to be the best one-night stand in the history of sex. I can’t believe this is my life right now!

“Is something funny, love?” he asks as he stands and picks up his pants, retrieving a condom from his wallet before tossing them on the floor again. The skin around his eyes creases in a way that makes me think he’s amused, not hurt, by my laughter.

“No, nothing’s funny,” I reply, but I can’t keep the grin off my face.

I scoot back on the bed until my head is on the pillows. Then I remember that investigative news special I saw about hotel room bedding and cringe. I think I’m lying on a duvet cover though, and surely they wash those? But just in case, I slip my legs underneath and then flip the cover back and push it to the end of the bed.

The guy—Jennings—pauses with a small smile on his face, watching me. Whatever. Germs are no joke. I lean against the headboard and smile back at him. “So what else you got?” I ask and—what the hell—I run my eyes over him from head to toe. He’s still got his underwear on so I can’t check out everything, but I like everything I can see, that’s for sure. Broad shoulders. Impressive abs—how the heck is he almost forty? Narrow waist. Strong legs. Impressive bulge. What? Like I didn’t linger a moment there during my perusal? I pat the bed next to me with my palm and grin.

“What else have I got?” He laughs and tosses the condom on the nightstand before gripping my ankle and dragging me down the bed until I’m horizontal. I yelp in surprise before sucking in a breath as he lowers himself over me, holding himself above me with his arms. Then he kisses me and I groan. I can faintly taste myself on him and it makes me wet all over again. This man. His mouth. He’s… carnal and I love it. Maybe it’s a British thing? Maybe they’re all super-amazing in bed? I’ve never been with a man from another country before so I don’t have a comparison. All I know is tonight was a really good decision.

His accent is going to be the death of me. In the best way. I’m glad he’s not calling me Rose right now. I wish he knew my name. Hearing Violet on his tongue… And the way he keeps calling me “love”—it’s so British of him, right? And it works for me—like a lot.

His magic mouth skills do not disappoint in the kissing department either. It should be awkward, kissing a stranger. It sounds stupid considering what he just did with his mouth. That I’d even give a second thought to the intimacy of kissing mouth to mouth. Kissing is so filled with breathing and saliva, taste and tongues and angles and pressure and Mr. Mouth here is good at all of it. His lips move from mine to my jaw as I tangle my fingers into his hair. He sucks my earlobe between his teeth as the tiniest huff of breath in my ear makes me shiver before his tongue wets that spot just behind my ear, causing me to press my pelvis against him, desperate for more.