34
Ruby
I’min Jem Jones’s bedroom.Jem’s bedroom.
Jem disappears into his bathroom, leaving me a trembling mess of excitement and anxiety. What if I’m not good enough for him? I pull my dress over my head, dump it on the floor, and slide beneath his thick bedding. I tug the soft material to my nose, inhaling the spiced scent of the man whomorethan kissed me like he meant it.
Jem reappears with a box of condoms in his hand and halts, frowning. “What are you doing?”
I grip the duvet. “Um. Waiting for you?”
“Waiting for me?”
Why does he sound annoyed? “Yes. Why? Did you change your mind?”
“What the hell?” Jem crosses to kneel on the bed and cups my chin with his hand. He runs his tongue across my bottom lip, triggering the heat that had waned with my nerves. I part my mouth for his kiss and he pulls away. “I’m not doing thistoyou, Ruby. I’m doing itwithyou.”
“Okay.” I push his T-shirt upwards and he rests a hand on mine to stop me.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this, but I’m not screwing things up” he says hoarsely. “If I do fuck up and you never want sex with me again, that would kill me.”
He wraps an arm around my waist, and I eagerly accept the way his mouth claims mine. Jem’s kisses are unusual because I don’t do this type of kissing. Dan couldn’t care less whether we did or not, as long as I opened my legs for him. With Jem, I’ve learned there’s an intimacy from a kiss that goes deeper, an inexplicable extra connection. With Jem’s come an unspoken care and affection, his desire to be with me on my own terms reflected by the way Jem gauges my reaction to each stroke of his tongue or movement of his lips. And I can’t get enough.
I push at Jem’s T-shirt again and this time he drags the material over his head. In return, Jem pulls away the duvet covering my chest. His eyes darken as his gaze soaks in the sight, and my skin tingles as he runs a finger along the quote beneath my breast.
“Worth the wait,” he whispers and his mouth finds mine again.
I wrap my arms around Jem’s neck, pressing against his naked chest. My nipples brush his taut skin, sending heat to my core as Jem holds me, one hand on the nape of my neck and the other in the small of my back.
I could spend all day kissing Jem, exploring the new sensations from the touch of tongues, the taste and heat of our mouths. An eternity pressed against his warm body beneath gentle hands wouldn’t be enough.
But that won’t be what he wants, and isn’t what I’ve waited this long for.
I move to unbutton his jeans and Jem shifts, helping, then shuffles out of them and kicks them to the floor. I shift back and pull him close, lying against the pillows, then begin to wriggle out of my panties.
Jem puts his hand on mine to stop me. “Is this what you do?”
“What?”
“Do you just lie back and have this done to you?” He props himself up on his elbows. “I’m not allowing you to lie down while I fuck you missionary style, Ruby. That’s not enough.”
Crap.I’m in a situation with Jem Jones who has more than likely tried every sexual position I can imagine and some I haven’t.I won’t be enough for him. I close my eyes in embarrassment and leave my panties on. “Sorry, what did you want me to do?”
Jem sits back. “Jeez, Ruby. Have you ever had sex with a man who cares about how this feels for you?”
I tug the duvet under my chin again. I can’t answer. There’s only been Dan, and a couple of five-minute sessions with guys from school, and I certainly wasn’t the focus. I’m uncomfortable. Sex is something I do, I don’t talk about it as well.
“I guess that’s no, then,” he says quietly and pushes my hair from my face. “I don’t understand guys who behave like that. Having a woman really enjoying herself is the biggest fucking turn on.”
I chew a nail, increasingly out of my depth, and when he moves to kiss me again, I tense.
“Ruby… Come here.” Jem drags me onto his lap and looks up at me with darkened eyes. “I have fantasied about this for months so this won’t be over quickly or without enthusiastic participation by you.” When I turn away, he takes my cheek and moves my head so I have to look straight at him. “Otherwise, I’m not doing this, okay?”
“Okay, but I don’t think I’m very good at… things,” I whisper, desperate for him to stop talking and do what he’s promising.
Jem traces the shape of the heart tattoo on my chest. “No problem, I’ll make everything about you this time, and then I can show you how to be ‘good at things’.” His eyes shine with the promise of his words as he looks up at me, a tug of a smile on his lips. “Okay?”
“Okay.”