I finger fuck her faster, returning to her clit with my tongue. She makes the most excited gasping sounds when I lick her clit hard and fast, fucking her slit with my finger at the same time.
She’s bucking in the chair, vibrating against me.
Neither of us can stop it. We don’t want to.
I could do this all day. Feeling the tight innocence of her horny drenched core, the excitement in her swollen clit, and her moans most of all…racing closer to her finish, and I’m driving her there, snarling, taking pleasure from hers.
I need a soundtrack of my woman’s moans.
Then her breaths turn hollow.
I thunder my finger in and out of her, pounding her, flicking my tongue against her bud at the same time.
She pulses against me as her pussy gifts me with flowing cream all over my mouth, making her taste even tangier.
Sweet and welcome, I spread my tongue and lap it all up. Her clit feels like it’s throbbing like she’s still recovering from the orgasm.
Then I stand, staring down at her, her breasts red from my sucking, her pussy looking ready for more, her eyes wide and sassy and shy at the same time.
“I need your pussy,” I growl, completely lost in the moment. Just us.
“Jamie, wait,” she whispers. “I’m….”
From downstairs, there’s a loud crash. The security alarm starts blaring immediately.
I turn away from Jennifer, quickly stalking over to the corner safe and scanning my thumbprint. Taking the Glock, I check the clip and head for the door.
“Don’t leave this room,” I snap.
I almost turn back and add I can’t let anything happen to you, but I push the door not looking back.
CHAPTER
SEVEN
Jennifer
I get dressed, struggling to accept what just happened. I’ve only ever pinched myself to see if I was awake once…when we got the news about mom and dad.
Luckily, I don’t have to now. The pulsing of the half-completed tattoo tells me this is the real world.
But….
I’m panting as I stand, adjusting my bra. My body is pleasantly sore, my nipples aching, my clit and core tingly and sticky. I’ve never felt anything like that before. Incredibly amazing.
It wasn’t just an orgasm. It was like my world was exploding, hot rain, complete euphoria.
I want to feel it again, but at the end, when he was going to take his massive length out – I could see his throbbing outline – the crash, the alarm.
The gun.
Walking to the door, I place my ear against it, but I can’t hear anything over the alarm. I’m not sure what to do. Jamie said to stay in the room, the gun held in his hand like he was used to it.
I’m still trying to understand the kiss…his lips pushed against mine. The same way they were….
But I can’t think that, not about Kelly.
Oh, crud.
That was a mistake. No, because I don’t regret it. I should.
It’s like my body’s screaming at me, telling me it was right. We belong together. He was swept up in the same crazed hunger like I was.
He couldn’t help it any more than I could.
Both of us are obsessed. Or was he just horny?
Even that means he likes me and wants me on some level.
The alarm cuts off.
A minute later, I’m pacing, thinking, trying to make sense of this, and Jamie walks into the room. I can’t see the gun anymore. I wonder if he tucked it into his waistband.
He strides over, looking down at me, all his tattooed muscles bulging.
“I have to go,” he says.
“What happened?”
“Somebody’s sending me a message.”
“What? I don’t understand.”
Jamie sighs darkly. “Kelly really didn’t tell you anything, did she?”
Before I can respond, he leans down and crushes me in one of our kisses.
It’s crazy. I’m already thinking of them like this, but they feel so special. I’m moaning through the kiss, tasting him, our tongues tangling together.
I can’t stop.
And then he steps away, fists clenched at his sides, as though it’s as difficult for him.
“What next?” I ask.
“Your tattoo isn’t finished,” he says with a smirk. “You’ll need to book another appointment. And then we’ll finish what we started.”
He marches from the room, leaving me to study the broadness of his back, his silver peppered hair catching the light as he disappears, the outline of the gun showing through the back of his vest.
“What’s going on?” I ask the receptionist when I’m downstairs. “Who did this?”
She’s sweeping up all the shattered glass. Somebody threw a brick through the window. It’s a gray cinder block, and when I look at it, I see a piece of tape and a scrap of paper attached.
“Was there a note?”
“You ask a lot of questions,” she says. “You know I can’t answer them.”
“Do I?” I say, feeling tragically out of the freaking loop. “How am I supposed to know that?”
She looks at me, and I think of the parties I attended with Kelly and Jamie. The men in suits, the slicked back hair, all the tattoos, all the bravado of the men.