‘I’ll bear it in mind.’ He kissed her hair in its chignon and the exposed nape of her neck. ‘You smell gorgeous. I still want to jump you.’
The last breaths of panic wafted from her body. Now a different kind of red alert was coming into being, and it emanated from between her legs.
She rubbed her head into his shoulder, nuzzling like a cat.
‘Bad boy,’ she said. ‘Very bad.’
‘D’you want me to be good?’
She shook her head and he laughed into her ear.
‘I said I wanted to mess you up and I’m going to do it,’ he vowed. His lips fastened to her neck and the white curve of her shoulder while the hand that wasn’t engaged in holding her fast against him slid down to raise her skirt and massage the tender flesh of her inner thigh.
Thoughts broke up inside her head and rushed out of it. He hadn’t seen or heard Lawrence, or he would be asking questions. Lawrence … She ought to do something about him, some kind of subtle discouragement, or would it take a more forceful approach? A forceful approach, like Jason’s, now … Oh, it felt good …
Lawrence was banished, blanketed over with the urgent need for more of Jason’s touch. Her lover’s hands were all over her now, disregarding the boundaries of her cocktail dress as if they didn’t exist. He touched her breasts, her bottom, and now he let his hands glide over its curve and into the valley below. His teeth nibbled at her neck and ears and the sensitive skin between them at will. All she could do was push herself further into him, silently begging for more.
He closed a fist in her hair, wrenching it out of its perfect style so that it tumbled all over her. The half-thought that it still needed cutting was swallowed up by his tongue in her mouth.
‘I can’t wait for you,’ he growled, coming up for air. ‘Get over there.’
He manhandled her to the wall and lifted her so she perched on a tall, long-legged antique table, one of many pieces left abandoned in the house.
The clink of belt buckle, the rasp of falling jeans, drew her eyes downwards and she was rather impressed to notice that he was already wearing a condom. Be prepared. What a boy scout.
‘You were confident,’ she whispered, reaching out to touch his rubbered erection.
He pushed her hand away and rummaged in her skirts, pushing them up and her knickers aside – he didn’t even have time to pull them down first.
It was swift, it was sudden, it was almost painful, but so piercingly satisfying that she cried out on his sheathing within her.
She wrapped her knees around his hips and her arms around his neck, holding on for dear life while he took what he wanted. She laid her head back, feeling its rhythmic bump against the peeling old wallpaper, feeling much more the enormity of his energy and passion. And it was all directed at her. This force of nature had no other end in mind but the having and possessing of her.
It had never felt this urgent or primal, even in the early days with Deano. She had never felt so caught up in the centre of a huge forcefield.
It was over quickly, but not before he had wrenched an orgasm from her with impatient fingers, then slammed all the harder until she felt the moment of give, of buckling at the knees, the sudden expression of beautiful pain that meant it was done.
‘Don’t pretend you aren’t mine,’ he panted, letting her slither down around the sides of him until her shaky feet hit solid floor. ‘Don’t you fucking dare pretend that.’
‘You’re something else,’ she told him.
‘I know.’ He helped her to the drawing room, smug as all hell. ‘You could maybe get me a gig as a porn star. I’d be good at that.’
‘I’m sure you would, but no.’
She sat down heavily on the mattress, grimacing at the bump to her bottom.
‘Bed shopping soon, I think,’ she said.
‘Oh yeah,’ he agreed, sprawling himself out at her side. ‘Most important piece of furniture in the house, the bed. Well, for me and you, anyway. Never mind your “state of the art” kitchen. The bed comes f
irst, since it’s what you were made for.’
At the ‘you’, he had propped himself up and pushed a fingertip beneath her chin.
It was extraordinary, how he made her feel like the sexiest, dirtiest, wildest woman alive. She had never had that sense of herself before, as a woman meant to be stripped down and spread open and pinned to the bed. It was almost alarming, but she couldn’t stop worrying at the thought as if it were a loose tooth, pushing and pushing at it, getting the maximum mind-mileage from it.
Dirty, sexy Jenna Diamond. No, not Diamond. Just Jenna. Jenna 4 Jason 4 Ever. God, stop it. You aren’t fourteen again.