A/N: This story wouldn't have been written if it weren't for the pairing idea from Chess07, and the setting from EmmaleeWrites05. So this is pretty much their story. Hehe. Thanks ladies!!! It kind of comes from the idea that in Crashing Head On, Esme had a crush on Jasper. Now she's just a cougar. ;-) Let me know what you think!!!
Disclaimer: Only the smut is mine. :-P
The heat was stifling. Oppressive, heavy, thick. Esme rarely stepped out of her air-conditioned office, and she hated doing these consultations. Especially for some richy-rich rancher who spent ungodly amounts of money on "formal rustic" or some crap like that. A hick who made it to the top, and wanted to show it off.
Esme spent a good amount of time with the fake yuppies, and they never failed to bore her. She was sure that this would be no different.
She pulled up in her little sports car, and pulled her sunglasses down her nose to appraise the house in front of her. It was large but unassuming. It screamed prosperity, not outrageous wealth. The landscaping was tidy and used only native plants. Honestly, it was very beautiful, and Esme started to formulate the colors and ideas in her head. Clearly, this client enjoyed nature, simplicity. The reds, browns and yellows of the earth.
She could work with that.
A few moments and a few swift knocks later, and Esme was gasping for air. The door had swung open, and there stood the most gorgeous specimen of the male sex she had ever seen. He was young, but she wouldn't say too young. More than legal. Tall, muscular, but not bulky, and the most piercing blue eyes she had ever seen. She automatically pondered what he'd do with those eyes when he was about to orgasm; would they squeeze tight shut? Look at her hazily, half lidded?
She licked her lips nervously and held out her hand for him to shake. "I'm Esme Platt, from Lone Star Designs," she said, trying to keep her tone professional and keep out the quiver that affected it right now.
He took her hand, and her body went into some sort of sexual shock. His grip was firm, but somehow gentle. Soft, but not too soft. His hands still felt like he worked; this wasn't a lazy rancher who passed off his work to others. Her panties became just a little damp from his brilliant, genuine smile.
"I'm Jasper Whitlock, it's a pleasure to meet you," he said in a soft drawl.
Sure, she was probably old enough to be his mother, or at least an older aunt, but Esme didn't care. She wanted him with every bone in her body. And did she want his bone in her body? Fuck yes.
"Your landscaping is lovely," she said. "Am I correct in assuming you prefer natural, simple designs?"
"Yes, ma'am," she said, and her heart did a little double time. Usually "ma'am" made her feel old, but the way Jasper said it, it was more like an invitation to bed. She'd gladly accept such an invitation.
He showed her through the house, and she was silently impressed at the design just the way it was. It was simple, open, and clean. Nothing spectacular or overdone, and she liked that. It seemed to fit his personality to a T. After all, he was wearing a simple pair of Wranglers and a plain white T-shirt. Nothing expensive at all… and yet she was holding herself back so she wouldn't tear off all his clothes and have her wicked way with him right here on the staircase.
"And this is my bedroom…" Jasper said, pulling the door open.
"Oh!" Esme said in surprise. "I didn't realize that you wanted your room designed as well…"
"Yes, I want your touch everywhere."
The innuendo was not lost on Esme, who subtlety rubbed her thighs together for friction. She was going to die if he kept talking like that.
"Will your girlfriend or wife mind if I take free reign in the bedroom?" she asked, fully aware of her own implications.
If she wasn't mistaken, his eyes darkened at her statement, and he darted his tongue out to wet his lips. Her own body was thrumming with desire for this virtual stranger. All she could think of was weaving her fingers through his honey locks and dragging him down to her sweet spot, begging him to taste her, consume her.
"There's no girlfriend or wife," he said quietly. His voice was deeper, huskier now. "And I don't mind if you take free reign of the bedroom."
Somehow, without her permission, her feet carried her across the room to him, and before either one of them could understand or comprehend what was happening, she was in his arms and they were kissing as if their lives depended on it.
Their tongues met over and over, both eager to stoke the fires that were lit inside of them, despite the Texas heat. Their hands furiously yanked off layers of clothing, until Esme was only in her bra, panties and heels, and Jasper was in a pair of briefs that had Esme's mouth watering.
"I've never done anything like this before," Jasper said as he laid open-mouthed kisses up and down the column of her neck.
"Me either," Esme whimpered, and it was true. Usually she knew the man for a little longer than twenty minutes before pouncing on him, but she couldn't help herself. She was in her early forties, unattached, sexually confident, and hot and bothered by this man. And clearly, he wanted this just as bad, if what she felt against her hip was any indication.
"You're so beautiful," he murmured in her ear, dragging her to the King-sized bed that was flanked by two wide open windows. A stale breeze floated in, and though it was hot now, Esme knew it was about to get a lot hotter. "The second I saw you…"
"I know," she gasped as he laid out across her and brushed his hands down her curves. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, fisting her hands in his hair. Jasper groaned and bucked his hips into her.
"I want you," he growled, and licked a line down the cup of her bra, his other hand cupping her breast gently, kneading softly. Esme was going insane with the slowness of his movements.
"More," she mewled into his neck, writhing underneath him. He was young, virile, and just as willing as she was. She was ready for this. She already suspected this would be one of the best sexual encounters of her life, if what his fingers were currently doing to the front of her panties were any indication.
"Fuck, Jasper," she moaned as he slipped two fingers inside her ready sex. He was so young, and yet he knew exactly where to touch, how to please her properly. It had been so long…
"Esme, you're so sexy," he said, fucking her with his fingers with one hands, and popping the front clasp of her bra open with the other. "Fuck, I want you so badly."
"Then take me," she moaned. "Please, Jasper."
"Patience, darlin'," he said, and she literally felt herself get wetter at his words. It might have also have to do with the magic way his fingers were making her toes curl already. But either way, it was pretty fucking amazing.
"Mind if I have a taste?" he asked, and before she could say yes or no, though she'd never say no, he'd ducked his head down her body and began attacking her clit with his tongue.
"Oh!" Esme exclaimed, her hips raising off the bed instinctively, begging him to stay just where he was. He continued to attack her clit while fucking her thoroughly with his fingers, adding a third, and before she knew it, she was falling apart all over his face and hands. "Shit! Shit!" she yelled. "Fuck, Jasper!" She could have sworn she saw stars as she came.
He let her ride out the waves of orgasm that kept washing over her, and then pulled away, giving one last kiss to her over-sensitive clit and withdrawing his fingers. She groaned in disapproval. She wanted more. So much more.
He was still in his boxers, which were now bulging with his arousal, and she realized hazily that she was still wearing her heels and panties, that he had merely pulled them aside to gain access. He'd wanted her that bad, she thought giddily.
She boldly reached out and cupped his arousal in her hand. "Are you ready, Tiger?"
He smirked down at her. "For you? Always."
Her heart leapt at the word. She prayed this wouldn't be the last time, because he had just made her cum harder than she ever had in her entire life, and that was without his cock. She could barely wait to find out exactly what he could do with the massive cock in his pants.
Her hands tugged his underwear down now, and licked her lips instinctively when she saw him bounce free of his constraints. He was already incredibly hard and precum was oozing from the tip. She wanted to taste, but he had other ideas. With a quick tug, her panties were in shreds in his fingers, and her nipples hardened further at his strength, eagerness, and the smoldering look in his eyes.
"Do you want this?" he asked.
"Yes," she gasped.
"I'm clean," he said.
"So am I. And I'm on the pill. So please, Jasper…"
Without another word, he guided himself to her and thrust inside, hard. A yelp of surprise escaped her lips, at the speed and the fullness that she felt. Her eyes rolled back into her head at the sensations going through her, and eagerly bucked her hips up to match Jasper's thrusts.
"Oh fuck, oh fuck," they both murmured, knowing just how amazing and rare this was. He kissed her as they moved together, and it nearly took her breath away. He shifted angles, and then she literally was breathless, because he was hitting spots no man had ever reached inside her. Their hips were a blur, moving fast and impatiently against each other, desperate for friction and release.
"Jasper," she whimpered, and he rubbed her clit, knowing her same urgency. Her heels dug into his backside, urging him deeper, and soon, it was too much for both of them. Esme came first, body arching off the bed, and he continued to fuck her through the orgasm, drawing it out and making it nearly endless. But he couldn't hold on for much longer, and the pain of her heels digging into his ass, and the pleasure of her body milking his couldn't stop him from cumming hard inside her.
"Fuck, Esme," he grunted, going still inside her. His hands loved her curves, appreciating the woman in his bed, for she was a true woman, not a girl. She moaned at how his hands worshipped her overheated skin, tasting her salty neck languorously.
"May I offer you a designing tip?" Esme said teasingly.
"What's that?" Jasper's hair fell into his forehead, and she was suddenly ready for another round.
"Mirrors on the ceiling," she said, and he groaned, hardening again at the thought.
"Like I said, you have free reign in the bedroom," he said.
"In that case… on your back, Whitlock. I wanna ride."