Unconventional Fling (A Working Girl’s Guide, Book 1) (7 page)

“Looking forward to it.”

“Then I’ll let you go for now.” He kissed the edge of her ear one last time. “Talk to you when your plane touches down.”

Leaving the airport now. Be there as soon as I can.

That’s what Brandon’s text had said. Jade knew from her own flight in, that meant he’d arrive at the hotel in thirty to forty-five minutes, and the clock was creeping forward fast.

She had no idea how she was supposed to act. She’d never actually met a guy in a hotel room before. Not like this, with an entire weekend of fooling around planned. She did know she didn’t want to be wearing her work clothes anymore. It was after five on a Friday; she might as well change into something more comfortable.

But should it be the innuendo laden kind of “more comfortable,” or was her jeans and T-shirt combination the right way to go?

She paced the floor, trying not to let neurosis overtake her thoughts. Three weeks seemed like an eternity ago. The memories of the weekend with Brandon were still seared into her mind, but her whims of fancy had retreated since then. What were they doing? It wasn’t rational.

The phone conversations had been fun, sweet, and sexy. The random text messages and e-mails had been the same. But none of them were ever long enough, and they were always missing that connection she’d felt when they met.

As if she and Brandon were trying too hard to recreate the moment. Maybe they could just talk when he got there? Part of her protested, wanting to taste him and feel him and be wrapped up in and around him. But if she didn’t get this out of the way, was it going to be worth it?

Then again, they had talked. She’d told him how work was, he’d told her about working his contacts in the industry while looking for a new agent. That had to count as getting to know each other. They could spend the weekend exploring more physical things. Right?

A knock echoed through the room, and her already racing pulse kicked up another notch, threatening to tear her heart from her chest. She took a few deep breaths but failed to calm herself. She let Brandon in.

He looked better than she remembered, and any greeting died in her throat. She leaned back against the door as it closed. Lust and joy made his brown eyes shine as he looked her over. Maybe she was worried about nothing.

“I missed you.” He rested his hands on the door—one on either side of her head—and brushed his lips over hers. He pulled away, studying her for a moment. “You’re okay, right?”

The contact, followed by genuine concern, erased her doubts. They could talk later. She returned the kiss, diving into the tingles racing through her.

His hand dropped to her waist, thumb stroking her hip, and his lips glided up her jaw. He traced his tongue along the edges of her ear, breath hot against her skin. “Even better than I remembered.”

“Me too.” She sank into the words and light touches, focusing on the moment and nothing else.

“You know what I was thinking”—his lips glided down her neck—“might be really nice”—he kissed along her collarbone—“after a long day of travel?” He brushed over the hollow at the base of her throat.

A sliver of disappointment wormed its way through her. He had to be exhausted after traveling all day. “Sleep?”

His chuckle vibrated through her. “Later. Definitely. I was thinking of something else first.” He slid his hand from her hip to her back and tugged her forward. “Join me in the shower?”

Her already heated blood grew warmer at the suggestion, and anticipation rolled under her skin. “I’m in.”

He guided her toward the bathroom. His palm was rough against her waist and then her back. Her earlier anxiety had vanished, replaced with an intense need to be closer to him than their clothing allowed.

He broke away to fiddle with the faucet in the tub, and seconds later the sound of rushing water filled the room. He turned back to her. “Let it warm up while I warm you up.”

Her heart pounded in excitement at the gravel in his voice. Her hands dropped to his waist, and she pushed his shirt up. Friction flowed between his skin and hers when she shoved the fabric out of the way and then threw the shirt aside. She traced her fingers down his bare chest. How was it possible to have missed someone so much when she’d only had him a few times? Each touch rocked her deep inside, soothing an unknown addiction.

His fingers glided under her shirt and up her spine, and she arched her back at the light touch. He made quick work of her bra clasp. His hands slid along her ribs, pushing her shirt up in the process.

He cupped her breasts, and she gasped at the firm, possessive caress, squirming against him. His thumbs flicked over her already hard nipples—feather-soft touches sent jolts of pleasure through her. Wetness pooled between her legs. She ground against him.

He stripped off her top and bra and lowered his head to her breast. His lips closed around the hard nub, and his tongue flicked out.

The sensation made her head spin. Steam filled the room, casting everything in a soft haze. She fumbled with the button on his jeans for a second before releasing it and sliding down his zipper. She reached into his boxers, and her fingers wrapped around his rigid shaft. His groan echoed through her skin when she freed him. The sounds tearing from his chest made her wetter.

His fingers tangled in her hair, and he raised his head. Shock and a new, intense wave of want coursed through her when he crushed his mouth to hers. She didn’t know how he managed, but he pushed the rest of their clothes off without breaking away. His hard cock rubbed her bare hip. She wanted to make him growl like he had during their last time together. Wanted to see him lost in the moment.

And she was tired of waiting. Hands on his shoulders, she broke the heated kiss and pushed him toward the tub. Seconds later, water was streaming over them. The heat and steam were nothing compared to what was already in her veins. He rested a hand at the small of her back, trying to pull her close.

She smirked and broke away. “We’re supposed to be showering, remember?”

He raised an eyebrow, and the corner of his mouth pulled up in that sexy-as-hell, crooked grin that drove her wild. “What did you have in mind?”

Since she’d been staying in the room all week, her toiletries already surrounded them. She plucked her body wash from the corner. His hand wrapped around her wrist, and his eyes narrowed, but his smile never wavered. “Apricot energizer?”

She twisted away from his light grip with a laugh. “Are you worried about smelling like a girl?”

He ducked his head, lips hovering close enough to her neck that she could feel his breath, but he never made contact. His nose glided lightly up her skin. “I’m concerned that if I smell like you, you’re going to be even more impossible to get out of my head.”

His hard length dug into her stomach, nudging and pleading as he kissed along the edge of her ear. She tilted her head back and sighed, sinking into the feather-light caress. “Good.”

She stepped back as much as she could in the confined space—a few inches at the most—and poured a small dollop of soap into her hand. She set the bottle aside, rubbed her palms together to distribute and warm the body wash, and then slid around him. Her breasts rested against his back, and he groaned and leaned into her.

Her hands glided easily up his chest with the suds. His scent mixed with her soap. Combined with the steam in the room, it pulled her into a pleasant state of mind where she could imagine they were the only two people in the world, and her concerns about thousands of miles and the end of the weekend didn’t matter.

She soaped over his shoulders and across the back of his neck, memorizing every line of definition as she went. When she slid down his back and over his ass, he let out a low groan. She moved her hands to his legs and worked her way back up.

He inhaled sharply when she brushed his erection. The water streamed over them as she gently caressed the skin, soaping every area and stroking him at the same time. He bucked back into her when she cupped his sack. She massaged and cleaned, letting the steady, artificial rain wash everything away. His breath was coming in short gasps.

“Not yet.” She moved away from his cock. She reached his stomach again, and he grabbed her wrists.

Without hesitation, he spun to face her. He dipped his head until his mouth was hovering inches away from her ear. “I’m not as patient as you, remember?”

She nodded. She also remembered his take-command tone, and she swore it stroked the ache between her legs until the sensation was a dull roar for attention. He pressed her against the wall, and her full body slid against his. She was soaked between her legs, and it didn’t have anything to do with the water.

He moved both of her wrists to one of his hands, and grasping them tightly, he pinned her arms over her head. He crushed his mouth to hers, swallowing her cries of surprise and arousal. His free hand dropped to her stomach, and then lower.

Her pulse raced through her veins at the power in his grip. He rested his foot between hers and pushed her legs slightly apart. His fingers reached her pussy, and she gasped when he slid between her slick folds.

He sucked on her neck, teeth and tongue working over her soft flesh. She gasped and arched her back when he found her swollen clit. He stroked her sex hard while he ravaged her with his mouth. His stiff shaft ground against her hip while he pushed so many other buttons at the same time.

She was only vaguely aware of rocking against him as her climax built. He shoved two fingers inside her, and the sudden sensation of being spread open tore through her. Screams of pleasure ripped from her as she came, leaving her hoarse.

Her legs wobbled beneath her. He dropped her arms, and they fell limply by her sides. He fisted her hair and yanked her head back, kissing her hard again. Lust and desperation darkened his crooked smile when he pulled back, and his gaze locked on hers. He tugged her head down.

She took the hint and dropped to her knees in front of him. He wrapped his hand around his shaft and thrust his hips. She took the entire length in her mouth, sliding up and down. He grunted, and his hips swayed against her face.

Fingers still wrapped in her hair, he helped her keep the rhythm. She traced her tongue up the side of his cock and over the head every time her head bobbed up and back down. She moaned against his skin when his pace increased.

She cupped his balls, kneading the wrinkled skin. He thrust faster, grunts coming in short, clipped breaths now. Looking up, she locked her gaze on his. Three weeks ago she never would have imagined herself doing something like this, but she’d learned a lot about what she was, and wasn’t, comfortable vocalizing during their phone conversations. She pulled away long enough to say, “Come for me? I want to taste you.”

Her tongue glided down his shaft again, and she took him in her mouth. His grip on her hair tightened, and his thrusting became frantic. A warm saltiness spurted against the back of her throat. He let out a final groan and relaxed.

He leaned to the side, shoulder resting against the wall of the shower, and held out his hand. She gripped it, and he pulled her to her feet. Water still spilled around them, erasing the tension in her limbs but calling to the exhaustion from the long week.

He kissed her lightly, laying a series of pecks across her lips and chin. His voice was soft, almost vanishing in the roar of the pipes. “Maybe we should really get clean now.”

“I suppose.” She leaned into him, forehead against his chest. The entire moment felt so natural. So comfortable. Why couldn’t it stay that way longer?

* * * *

Jade’s head rose and fell with Brandon’s chest. His breathing had become steady at least an hour ago; he had to be asleep. But rest was nowhere to be found for her. All the doubts she’d had before he showed up had raced back in force. What were they doing? Sex once a month in random hotels? A couple of lurid messages exchanged in between? That wasn’t the relationship she wanted.

She rolled onto her back. She knew there was a connection between them that went deeper than sex, but how were they ever going to explore that option with so little time together? It didn’t seem possible.

“What’s wrong?” His sleep-filled question drifted through the room. The mattress shifted, he propped himself up on one elbow, and a few seconds later his face appeared in front of hers.

She didn’t want to do this right now. He was exhausted after travelling all day, and she was drained. She shook her head. “Insomnia. I’ll be fine.”

He brushed a strand of hair off her forehead. “Tell me.”

No. It could wait. They’d talk about it in the morning. They had all weekend. But her mouth had other ideas. “What are we doing?”

His brows knit together, and he stared at her for a moment before responding. “Talking? Not sleeping?”

“I mean in general. A new city every few weeks, some really hot sex, and then stilted conversations in between?”

“What should we be doing differently?”

Frustration surged inside her. “I don’t know. It’s just that we don’t even really know each other.”

He yawned wide, hand flying to his mouth. “Sorry. We still have fun, right?”

She nudged him out of the way and sat up. The sheets dropped away, and the air rushed in around her bare skin. “Yes, but it seems like we’re missing something.”

He sat up next to her, sleep lining his voice and mingling with a hard edge that hadn’t been there before. “So what should we be doing differently?”

This had been a bad idea. He was too tired to hear her out. But now that she had started, she couldn’t stop. “I don’t know. We don’t even know each other.”

He grabbed a pillow and cradled it between his arms and chest, using it to prop himself up. “Okay, let’s get to know each other.” His tone was strained. “What’s your favorite movie?”

She didn’t want to do this, not like this. Not with both of them exhausted and stressed out. “
Chasing Amy
.”

He made a noise that sounded like a half-groan, half-sigh. “Pseudo-intellectual dialogue and a miserable, ambiguous ending? What the hell’s so great about that?”