“Why not?”
A loud swallow. “Because you deserve better.” Jenna looked up at her then, and that intensity in her eyes? It had multiplied. By a lot. Sawyer felt like it reached in and stroked her, and a low-key throbbing started between her legs.
Everything in her hands—her bag, her coat, her keys—all of it dropped to the floor as she reached up to grab Jenna’s face in both her hands. The kiss was not gentle. It wasn’t tentative. It was hard and thorough and demanding. She pushed her tongue into Jenna’s mouth, pulling a whimper from her that only shoved Sawyer’s arousal higher. Jenna tasted like sweetness and spice and salvation, and Sawyer couldn’t get enough. She could feel Jenna’s hands, first on her forearms, then on her waist, pulling her closer. One of them snaked up the back of her shirt, the heat from Jenna’s hand against her skin threatening to combust them both.
When they finally wrenched apart, they were as breathless as if they’d just run a race. Sawyer trailed her fingertips along Jenna’sjawline, stroking her thumb over the splotch of pink on her cheek. Her hand trailed down Jenna’s arm and grasped her hand, and she glanced at the stairs, then back at Jenna, eyebrows raised in question. “My first time with you is not going to be on a couch. Okay?”
Jenna grinned at her. “Okay.” She led the way.
Seeing a woman’s bedroom was an intimate occurrence in Sawyer’s mind, and Jenna’s was pretty much exactly like she’d expected—soft, inviting, with a subtle element of playfulness that she’d come to associate with Jenna Murphy. Soft lilac walls and a fluffy white comforter accented by about eight pillows and an old, worn teddy bear were what she managed to take in before Jenna pulled her head down to meet her lips.
She stopped, removed her glasses and set them on a dresser, and refocused.
God, when was the last time she’d wanted somebody this badly? It was hard to remember. Maybe the first few times she’d been with Amanda? That had tempered quickly, though, and she wasn’t sure it was ever like this, so raw, so primal. She wanted to literally rip Jenna’s clothes off. Literally. Strip her roughly until she stood naked before her, waiting, wanting. She had to consciously slow herself down, and it wasn’t easy, because Jenna clearly did things to her, made her blood run hotter than it ever had, and she felt like her body was on fire.
For her part, though, Jenna gave as good as she got, and it made Sawyer wonder if she was maybe feeling it, too. She wrenched her mouth away, Jenna’s face in her hands as they stood there panting.
“Jesus Christ,” Jenna muttered, her breathing ragged.
“I know, right?” Sawyer swallowed.
“I don’t know if…” Jenna glanced away as she cleared her throat, but when her gaze came back, her eyes were nearly all pupil, hooded, and she reached up for Sawyer’s head. “God, I just want you so badly it’s frightening.”
That was all Sawyer needed, to know Jenna was as all in as she was, and the stripping began. Between kisses, she pulled at Jenna’s clothes, and in a matter of moments, she was standing there naked, all creamy skin and subtle curves, and holy fucking shit, Sawyer had never been so turned on in her entire life. She reached around the back of Jenna’s head and grabbed the hair clip, releasing all that honey-brown hair so it cascaded over Jenna’s shoulders.
“My God, you’re beautiful,” she whispered, sifting that hair through her fingers, then watching as Jenna blushed. It began at her chest, the pretty pink traveling up her throat to settle in her cheeks. Her gaze moved lower, to Jenna’s breasts, a bit larger than Sawyer had expected, the pink nipples standing erect in the cool air. She wanted to touch them. To caress them and knead them in her hands and bathe them with her tongue—but she also wanted to simply look, to feast with her eyes, because oh my God, what a view.
“Okay,” Jenna said after a moment, stepping closer. “Here’s the deal. I’m soaked and beyond ready, and you’re overdressed.” Her long fingers began to unbutton Sawyer’s shirt, and then she pushed it off her shoulders so she stood in her bra and jeans. Jenna’s eyes never left hers as she trailed her fingertips down Sawyer’s bare stomach, causing a ripple in her muscles and goose bumps on her skin, flipped the button of her jeans, and slowly lowered the zipper. Her voice was barely above a whisper as she ordered, “Take these off.”
Sawyer didn’t have to be told twice, and she quickly shed her jeans and underwear. Jenna held her gaze as she reached around her to unfasten her bra, and then they were standing inches apart, both naked. Sawyer was reasonably sure her heart was about to pound out of her chest, but she did her best to stand there and wait, to let Jenna look at her. And God, did she look. Sawyer swore she could feel Jenna’s eyes on her just as certainly as if they were fingertips, caressing her skin, moving along her body. From her lips, down the long column of her throat, along her collarbones and over her nipples—which made themselves known—and down to the apex of her thighs, where she knew she was soaking; she could feel the slickness of her own skin.
She swallowed hard because the waiting was killing her.
Jenna arched an eyebrow and grinned at her, so she knew exactly the effect she was having.
When she finally reached out and stroked her thumb across Sawyer’s nipple, it was all over. Sawyer gasped, grabbed Jenna’s face, and kissed her senseless while backing her across the room to the bed.
They fell back onto it.
Sex with Jenna Murphy was so easy.
That was the first thought that popped into Sawyer’s head. She felt no pressure. No concern. No trepidation or shame. No worry. Touching Jenna, being touched by Jenna was one giant dichotomy—calming andexciting, serious and fun, frantic and tender—and she never wanted it to end. She ran her fingers, her tongue, across every expanse of skin she could reach, delighting in the smooth softness, the sweet and salty tang of Jenna, of all of her.
Jenna was no wallflower, though. They rolled several times, shifting positions so one was on top, in control, and then the other, and Sawyer couldn’t remember sex ever being so equal before. At one point, she was on top, and she grasped Jenna’s wrists, pinned them above her head, and simply gazed into her eyes. Their faces were close enough for their noses to brush, and she pulled back just enough to focus on the deep, rich brown of Jenna’s eyes. What she saw there—desire, yes, but also possibility—reached right into her chest and squeezed her heart, and she had to crush her mouth to Jenna’s just to keep from being crashed into by the feelings that suddenly threatened to flood her.
One hand released Jenna’s wrists, and Sawyer quickly slipped it down between their bodies, finally allowing herself to feel the hot, slick wetness between Jenna’s legs. She gasped beneath Sawyer, pushing her head back into the pillow, exposing her throat to a full-on assault by Sawyer’s mouth, her tongue. Without preamble, she slid inside, Jenna’s soft, warm walls contracting around her fingers, but that wasn’t what nearly sent Sawyer over the edge herself. No, it was the sounds. The sounds Jenna made, the sounds Sawyer dragged out of her, were the biggest turn-on of all. The little breaths, the gasps, the whimpers, the softly whispered pleas—Sawyer had never heard anything so fucking sexy in her entire life. Ever. She took Jenna to the edge over and over again, stopping and pulling her back until she was breathless and begging for release.
“Please, Sawyer.” Her breath was ragged, her hips undulating even as Sawyer had stopped any movement of her fingers. “Please.”
Sawyer smiled down at her. Who was she to deny a beautiful woman? She stroked her fingers in and out slowly, letting it build once more, and this time, she didn’t stop. She tipped Jenna over the edge and watched.
Jenna’s whole body arched, her muscles spasming as she let go of a cry of pleasure, again, like nothing Sawyer had heard, and Jesus fucking Christ, the things it did to her. Watching and listening to Jenna have an orgasm almost brought Sawyer to her own, that’s how fucking sexy it all was. She held tightly to Jenna’s squirming body, but whatwas more, Jenna held tightly to hers. She felt fingers twisting in her hair and Jenna’s other hand gripping her upper arm like she’d fly off into oblivion if she let go.
There would be marks tomorrow.
Sawyer didn’t care.
Worth it.
