"Seemed so. Back to sex. I entirely approve, of course. You should stay with him and embrace the fact that he's a bearded, tattooed god who's intelligent and fucks you into next week. I'm worried if it goes wrong though, pet," she said, folding the underwear and putting it into my case. "And it might, given the fact that you're wearing under your clothes is enough to scare a horny, virginal seventeen-year-old youth and put him off sex for life."
"It's not that bad," I said, defending my old faithful t-shirt bra and seamless panties. The rest were pretty decent. "I will take a trip to Victoria's Secret tomorrow. If I can squeeze it in."
"Good plan. Text him photos of what you buy. Back to my worries," she said, now lying back on the bed.
I stopped packing; I was nearly done anyhow. "I know it could go wrong. If it does, I deal with it. If it does, it's taught me what a real orgasm feels like and it's upped my standards. You don't need to worry."
"Good," she says, sitting upright. "It's not like you're jumping from one relationship into the next, because god forbid you ever have a little breakup sex. Maybe that's what I do."
"What? Break up sex? I suppose you could argue you break up frequently, so the booty calls you have after are technically break up sex..." I add my straighteners to my case.
Sophie scowled. "Nothing wrong with a booty call. What you're doing is not a booty call. A romantic trip to the country; expensive meal; meeting friends and family. This might not be the quick fling that was recommended some months ago."
"I had that quick fling with my vibrator instead," I said, closing the case. "You think it's too soon?"
"No," Sophie stood up. "I don't. I just know you like to keep things ordered and at your own pace. I'm hoping that his pace stops you overanalyzing and thinking about work all the livelong time. I'm going to find my Jimmy Choos and then I'm meeting David for a wine tasting session."
"The apartment will certainly be free tonight if you want to carry on your David tasting session here," I told her. "Please don't text me a report when he's gone. I don't need to know a grade for his cunnilingus skills, fingering achievements or ability to find the g-spot. Nor do I need sneaky pictures when he's asleep because I'm pretty sure that's illegal anyway."
She shot me a wicked grin, then gave me a peck on the cheek. "Call me if you need rescuing. Or equally, if Jackson wears out your unfit vagina and you need me to cover for you."
"I won't."
I woke Monday morning to the beeping of an unfamiliar alarm and for a moment felt confused as to where I was. Pressing my head into the pillow the body next to me stirred, stopped the noise and threw an arm over me, pulling me into him and then I remembered. I was at Jackson's and that was why my body felt well used.
"Coffee?" he groaned but didn't move.
"Do I need to make it?" He had warned me he wasn't a morning person unless he didn't have to rush to get up.
An unintelligible noise replied. I laughed and nuzzled into his chest. He was warm and hard and felt good beneath my hands. "What time is it?" I whispered. I wanted him to say it was still very early morning and we had hours before either of us had to hit the office or the gym, which was what both of us had planned.
"Six-thirty," he said. "Just after. Far too fucking early." He gripped onto me tighter, his hand moving over my ass, his cock hard. The boy had some quick recovery time.
I'd got my work done early Sunday afternoon, both of us milling about Jackson's house, answering emails, drafting documents, brewing coffee. It felt different than it had with Richard: it was easy. We didn't walk into each other or take up the other's space, there was no underlying tension that I wasn't giving him my undivided attention. Then we'd cooked, discussing work and Amelie and he'd spoken to Max and Claire before we stretched out on the sofa and watched Netflix.
And chilled.
The sex was relaxing and long. I didn't know where it began and where it ended or how many times I came but I ached now. But not enough to stop me. "Too early for what?" I ran my fingers up his cock. "Be a shame to waste this."
Jackson looked at me with barely open eyes, his hand moving to cup my breast and he squeezed a nipple. He rolled onto his back and moved me over him, encouraging me to shift up so he could take my nipple in his mouth, sucking and nibbling, moving from one to the other. His fingers played with my clit, spreading my wetness around my folds. Then he gained energy and I let him turn me on to my back.
"You ready?"
"Yes," I managed to mutter, barely getting the word out before he was inside me, pounding deep and rhythmically. My body was conditioned to come quickly by now, the initial pinch when he entered me adding to the pleasure and when I came it was almost violent.
Jackson lowered himself, kissing me and pressing down on my wrists as he followed. Then his weight lapsed onto me and he buried his head in the crook of my neck.
I closed my eyes, wishing Monday away so we could stay in our own cocoon, his big, heavy body on mine like a sexy security blanket, beard brushing my cheek. I knew full well what was happening to me and although my mind was screaming for me to hide, everything else was telling me to embrace the feelings I was starting to have. My hands ran over his broad back, feeling the steely muscle.
"Coffee?" he muttered. "Protein shake? Eggs?"
"Coffee. Fasted cardio this morning. I'll come help." Neither of us moved. I flicked my tongue over the skin on his shoulder, tasting him. "I don't want to go to work. Staying over was a bad idea."
His laugh was muffled by my neck and the pillow. "I could offer to keep you barefoot and pregnant and chained to the cooker, but I think you'd be bored."
"I don't know. It would depend if you were chained with me. And how much room for maneuver the chains had," I said, avoiding the image my ovaries were sending up to my brain. That I could keep locked away.
He kissed me and then my nipples and he pushed himself up. "You're beautiful. Even before coffee." He took my hand and pulled me up too.
