“Ask for what you need Tessa,” he said, pulling the uneaten strawberry from her mouth.
Tessa was silent. She was ten thousand miles from home with a man who was here to help her escape; to help her become a woman who took risks, who could open up, emotionally and sexually. Ask for what you need, Tessa thought. But what was that?
-11-
“I want…I need…” Tessa took her eyes from Jason’s face and glanced around the café. “This is a public place.”
“Yes. But I’ve made arrangements with the owners. No customers will be seated back here until we leave. It’s a private public place. Now, ask for what you need.” Jason pressed the finger that rested on her zipper, and smiled when Tessa’s eyes returned to his.
Tessa’s homework had never been like this. When she touched herself, it did nothing. But this…
“I need you to touch me,” she said, so softly Jason could barely hear her even though his face rested against hers.
“Where?”
“You know. It.”
Jason kissed Tessa’s earlobe and whispered, “To ask for something, you must name it. You can call it anything you like. Some women prefer the proper terms, like clitoris or clit. Others prefer something more romantic, like sweet spot or honey pot. Some enjoy rougher words, like pussy. Whatever you’re comfortable with. But you must name it to ask for it.”
“It…”
“It is?”
Tessa gave in. The gentle pressure of his finger over her shorts made her feel faint and supercharged all at the same time. “Clitoris. Or clit. Touch it.”
“Where?”
Really? A man who helped women overcome sexual issues for a living didn’t know where a woman’s clitoris was? Tessa started to explain, and Jason touched her lips with his free hand.
“This, I know. What I want to know is whether you want my hand here,” and he gently placed his hand on Tessa’s crotch, “or here.” Jason slid one finger underneath the top of Tessa’s waistband and gently touched the top of her panties. “Which place?”
Tessa felt her face get hot and she wasn’t sure whether it was sexual energy or embarrassment.
“Outside.”
Jason moved his hand to rest on top of Tessa’s shorts. It took him only moments to find the exact spot that begged for attention. He moved his fingers firmly up and down, slowly, stopping to gently probe or press.
“No,” Tessa said, and Jason’s fingers stopped moving.
“I made a mistake. I want you to touch me under my shorts.”
Jason unbuttoned Tessa’s shorts and slid the zipper all the way down. “On top of your underwear, or skin to skin?”
Tessa’s eyes darted around the room, once again. There was no one else in this dimly lit back room. Just Jason and an ache so strong Tessa thought she would burst.
“Touch my skin.”
Jason took Tessa’s chin and turned her head slowly until it rested on his shoulder, nestled along his jaw. His lips placed butterfly kisses on her temple as his hand slowly inched under the waistband of her panties. His index finger found her clitoris and he began to stroke. Tessa shivered.