Every relationship I’d chosen to walk into had come with a set of rules that I had set. My boundaries dominated the bedroom, even if my lover got to choose exactly how she came.
But it was never in my house. It was never she who left. I never stayed overnight, leaving before I could fall asleep, even if waking would mean another round. If they phoned me, I didn’t answer, returning their call when it suited me and it had been long enough for them to know I wasn’t at anyone’s beck and call. We didn’t go on dates; I didn’t share meals with them. It was an arrangement that suited us both, or us all, and it didn’t involve feelings.
I wasn’t their ride or die. I wasn’t their friend. We fucked and shagged and came, and that was the start and the beginning of our relationship.
I already had more than that with Jerrica.
Telling her that Nate would hunt me down and turn me into fertiliser for the pitch if I hurt her wasn’t the truth. I wasn’t enough of a fool to not realise that her getting hurt wasn’t a problem. It was the opposite.
She wanted just a few orgasms to break a drought; I wasn’t sure I could walk away after just a few.
“So, Jesse, what are your plans for tomorrow?”
I focused on Suzette, who was looking rather contented, mainly because we’d had probably one of the best meals ever created.
“Not much tomorrow. Maybe hang around here and use the pool.” I looked over at Jerrica, who’d spent the evening chatting to Carina and Simone. The two chefs hadn’t needed to serve the food: Carina had a couple of members of the team she’d employed in to work with them, which was part of the trial to see how it could work in the future. Jack and Simone’s two children had gone to bed at their usual time, baby monitors with screens set up so they could be checked on easily. Jack’s eldest was still in England, grown up enough now to spend her holidays as she wished. Neither had woken, mainly because Jack said they’d spent most of the afternoon in the pool and had knackered themselves out.
“Those are the best days,” Suzette smiled. “Just relaxing with nowhere to go and nothing to do. We’re having a late breakfast tomorrow, but if you get hungry early, just help yourselves to croissants and pain au chocolat, or whatever’s in the fridge.”
“Thank you, but I don’t think I’ll be eating for at least twelve hours.” Jerrica stood up, and I saw her stifle a yawn. “If it’s okay, I think I’m going to head to bed.”
Carina also stood. “I’ll be following you in. Jules and Danny will tidy all the plates away so no one needs to bother.”
There were good nights and thank yous, a few hugs and then footsteps tapping over the ever-present sound of crickets.
I followed Jerrica to our room, my eyes fixed on her ass, which was fine in a dress that clung to her every curve. When the door closed behind me, I leaned against it, watching Jerrica as she slipped off her shoes, rubbing a hand over the top of her feet.
“You just want to experience an orgasm that isn’t from your own hand?”
She froze, her eyes on me.
“I can give you that.”
I saw a smile grow, slowly, owned by a woman who had figured out — probably a while ago — that she was the one in control.
“How? Tell me how you’d make me come.” She sat up straight, looking like she was ready to listen to a story.
I moved to the chair near the window, the shutter still open. “Come sit here.” I gave my knee a single pat.
Jerrica slipped off the bed and walked over to me, sitting straight down on my knee, her back resting against my chest. Her dress was short; when she was standing, the hem was just above mid-thigh. When sat down, it rose higher. I put a hand on her thigh, knocking down one of the thin straps of her dress with the other.
She wasn’t wearing a bra underneath, her nipples pebbling, her tits rising as her breath became deeper.
“I’d make you sit on my knee to tell you a story, but you’d have to be a good girl and not move.”
“I can do that, but why not move?”
“Because this is about you coming. Not me.” I was as hard as steel, which I knew she’d have worked out by now. Her moving would push my control too far.
“I promise not to move. Until I come. Then, I won’t be able to help moving.” She sat up straighter, making her tits more prominent.
I ran a finger down her arm, pulling that strap a little further down, then ran my finger slowly back up and along her collar bone, working my way down to the line where her dress started.
“Spread your legs for me, baby.”
She’d held them closed together, a little primly.
Her legs parted, her dress moving higher up her thighs. My other hand ran up and down the inside of her thigh, just to the point where the dress ended.
