The drawing was a basic sketch with the general layout of the room she’d provided. He’d marked where he’d put trellises and pillars and a crap load of flowers.
The idea was really good, but not the Jungle Safari theme she’d built up in her head. She did her best to let that go. “I like it.”
He studied her, then the drawing. “What’s wrong with it?”
“I said I like it.”
“See, you said that, but your whole body tensed when you looked. And you got all distant.”
“I did not. I said I like it, and I do.” She did.
He rolled and raised himself over her, his forearms on either side of her shoulders. “Tell the truth. You hate the idea?”
“No.” She didn’t hate it. “I just had the jungle theme in my head. I need to adjust. That’s all.”
“Where’d the jungle theme idea come from, anyway?” he asked.
She lifted her head to kiss him. “It’s not important. I like your idea. Let’s do it.”
Heather let out a moan as his mouth met hers, and his hand moved to where he’d had it before, and seriously, shouldn’t every day start with a solid finger bang?
She whimpered in response, riding his hand as he took her higher, pausing and starting over, making it last. Drawing it out.
He kissed along the line of her lips, across her cheek, down the column of her throat, stopping to give attention to her breasts before moving down her belly. He moved his thumb, pulled her panties to her thighs, and dropped his mouth to her. Sucking, licking, and basically giving her the best morning she’d ever had.
He stopped for a moment. “Where’d the theme come from, Heather?”
What? “Jase?”
“The jungle theme, where’d it come from?”
“Are you holding my orgasm hostage until I tell you?”
He lowered his mouth in reply, bringing her just to the edge before stopping again. “Where’d the idea come from?” he asked again.
“This is torture, you know that, right?” She glared at him.
“Where’d the idea come from?”
Now it was a game. A game she absolutely didn’t mind playing.
He started again. This time he took her closer, bringing her nearly to the edge before stopping. Again.
“High school.” There, she’d said it. “That was the theme of the prom I didn’t get to go to.”
She swore he dropped an f-bomb, but then it didn’t matter because he was doing his thing again. He made a come-here motion with the two fingers inside her and that was that. The orgasm took her. Noises were made. She pressed her head against the pillow, but his hand didn’t stop, his mouth continued, until she rode the wave back down.
Jase made waking up the kind of experience a girl could really appreciate.
He reached for the box on the nightstand, but she got there first, grabbing a plastic-wrapped condom and tearing it open. She pulled her panties off and neither of them spoke. Jase, on his knees, his erection ready and waiting for her. She rolled the condom over his solid length, watching as his eyes dropped closed. He sucked in a breath. She squeezed the root and met him chest to chest, her hand still gripping him.
“Jase?” She kissed him, his mouth meeting hers, hungry.
“Hmm.” He didn’t stop the kiss, continued it as her hand stroked him over the latex.
“We don’t have to keep doing it this way. We’re exclusive. I’m clean. I’m on the pill,” she said against the side of his mouth.
Something changed in his eyes when she mentioned the pill—she’d swear it was fear. But that wasn’t right. This was Jase.
