—LISA
..
There's something cathartic about doing the thing I most feared. Even if I don't know how Jennie will react to my letters, she has them now. She'll read them and know all those secret thoughts I never expected to tell anyone. I'm glad she has them. They belong to her.
Doesn't stop me from feeling agitated as hell. I can't seem to settle. I pace my office, then my room. I don't want to be in my room. I can see the bath from here, and I cannot look at that damn bath without thinking of her slim, capable hand on my cock . . .
"Shit."
I push open the balcony doors and step out. The sun is hot and bright. I turn my face into a breeze and breathe deep. The air smells of salt and sea and sweetgrass. I let it calm me as much as I can, but nothing truly helps. I'll only settle when I can face her again.
I'm sitting in the chair I once cuddled Jennie in, my knee bouncing, my gaze on the horizon, when I hear a noise and look up.
She stands a few feet away, her catlike eyes glassy. Is she upset? Happy? I'm too worked up to get a proper read on her.
I stay completely still as she walks my way, those rounded hips swaying. God, I love the way she walks. I love the way the sun gilds her skin golden brown. I love the way her eyes always seem to see right through me. I love . . .
"Hey," she says, stopping before me.
I scramble to my feet, then regret it because I'm looming. She doesn't back away, though, but tilts her head back and stares at me as though she's seeing me anew. Her slim hands cup my cheeks, and she kisses me, gentle explorations of her mouth. I draw in a sharp breath before letting it out slowly as I stroke the delicate line of her jaw, the warm curve of her neck.
Jennie touches me as though I might soon fade away. She kisses the bridge of my nose, the skin at the edges of my eyes. I rest my forehead against her, my breathing growing deeper, faster. I brush my lips against her with every other kiss she places upon my skin because I need that contact, however brief.
"Jennie," I whisper, my thumbs caressing paths over her temples. "All the things I've said—"
"Are in the past." Her lips press to my cheek. "I wish I was there. I wish I had known."
"You were there. You were always with me." She has to understand this. I sit down and pull her onto my lap. "That's what kills me, Tot. When I thought of you, it drove me on. I didn't feel alone. You say I'm the voice in your head, telling you what you aren't. I want to be the voice telling you all the things that you are. Talented and funny and fearless as hell."
It's then that I notice she's wearing the necklace. I trace the chain, stopping at a glinting diamond. "That you are beautiful to me in the way of stars."
"Lisa . . ." Her fingers comb through my hair. "I shouldn't admit this, but even when you were at your worst, when I'd be dreaming of tarring and feathering you and leaving your carcass out for the birds to pick over"—I laugh at that—"I admired your arrogance."
"Did you?"
As if to steady me, she rests her palm on my chest, surely feeling the hard beat of my heart. "I used to channel that arrogance. If I ever became intimidated or felt less than, I used to think, 'What would Lisa Manoban do?'"
My smile grows wide, and she returns it.
"So you see. It wasn't all bad. You were there with me, too, giving me strength, forcing me to be better than I thought I could." Her touch is warm and steady along my jaw. "I made a deal to stay here, expecting the worst, but I found the best woman I've ever known."
Her words punch into me. It's sweet pain. A small voice in me wants to say I'm not good; I'm not remotely the best. But if she has to believe in how I see her, I have to do the same.
Her gaze searches my face in wonder. "I'd told myself I made that deal with you for my family, but when I walked into your office, I felt alive in a way I hadn't for ten years. I know now that I made that deal for me too. I'm here for you, Lisa. That's the honest truth."
Expelling a long breath, I grip the nape of her neck, holding on. "We going to do this, Jennie?"
"Yes, we're going to do this."
Weirdly, it feels as though I've been waiting my whole life to hear that.
..
By silent agreement, Jennie and I spend the day together, simply soaking each other in. We hang out like we did as kids, only this time, it's Jennie who is curled up against my side when we watch movies. It's Jennie whose hair I stroke. I'm content to stay that way all night. That is until the sound of Jennie's stomach growling loud and insistent rings out. She turns bright red.
I burst out laughing but quickly quell it when she glares. "I'm sorry. But you are so fucking adorable."
Jennie makes a face and slaps the side of my arm. "Ass."
I laugh again and quickly kiss her cheek. "I'm hungry too. Let's get some dinner."
The sun has sunk entirely, and the sky is purple in the twilight. I hadn't noticed. Rising, I offer to cook. Jennie raises a brow.
"What? I can cook," I protest. "It's nothing close to what you do, but I can manage simple meals."
"I believe you." Jennie rises from the couch, distracting me with her body. "I was just thinking maybe we could go out."
Go out. For normal people this wouldn't be a problem. For me, it's something different. Call me selfish, but I don't want to share Jennie right now. Out there, I will have to because people inevitably notice.
She clearly sees my hesitation. "Nothing fancy, totally casual. We can even eat in the car if you want," she adds with a brow wiggle like she's enticing me to sin.
"Now I'm intrigued."
"You'll love it," she says as we go to change. "Besides, I want to show you something."
It strikes me just how dangerous it is to live with Jennie because getting ready for dinner feels like we're something more than just starting out. It's comfortable in a way I've never experienced. Real in a way I only allow myself to dream about in the darkest corner of my mind.
All this time, I worried about hurting Jennie, but now I wonder if I'm the one who will be left stripped bare and empty. I shrug the worry aside. We said we'd try. That's all anyone can do.
Jennie takes me to a small taco stand down the coast, tucked between the highway and the sea. The rocky inlet has enough room for the cars, a parking lot, and another cottage-size restaurant that's closed for business.
The taco stand, however, has a long line. No one looks at us as we wait, huddled in our hoodies against the wind that's blowing over the sand. The rich scent of grilled meats and frying vegetables has my stomach grumbling.
"See?" I say, looking down at my stomach. "She's just as noisy."
"Ass," she mutters.
"That's Ms. Asshat," I remind her with a nudge of my elbow.
Jennie smirks and then rests her shoulder against mine. I'm inordinately pleased.
At the stand, I let her order, insisting that since she knows the menu, she can pick what's best. Taking our beers, I secure a seat at one of the picnic tables set under multicolored string lights.
Jennie returns with two boxes and sits at my side. The selection is simple: a pork, a fish, and a beef for each of us. It's how they're made that makes me groan.
"Damn," I say around my bite. "That's good."
"So good." She licks a drop of aioli at the corner of her lip as juices run along her fingers and drip into the box.
We eat in relative silence, enjoying the food and our beers. Around us, families, couples, and groups of singles chatter and laugh. Contentment steals over me. I don't have a lot of experience with happiness. But I soak it in.
"You see that place over there," Jennie says, breaking our easy silence.
"The blue shack of a restaurant?" I squint at the faded sign. "An old crab house?"
"Yeah." She wipes her fingers with a napkin. "Apparently, they weren't any good, and you can't expect to stay open serving crap. Especially next to this place."
Jennie stares at the old place, her expression thoughtful like maybe she's seeing it in a way I can't. Tension visibly creeps along her shoulders when she turns back to me. "I've been thinking about opening a restaurant there."
Carefully I set down my beer. This place is ten minutes from my house. She'll be near me. I want that. Fiercely. I want her happiness more. "Would it be a good idea to open next to such a popular place?"
"I wouldn't be serving tacos, so it isn't direct competition. It would benefit both, I think, because people who love good food would be drawn here." Her hands start to move as she talks, getting more excited. "I'd strip that awful blue paint off, bring it back to an old beach-cottage look. I'm not certain about the menu, but it's starting to take shape in my head. Comfort food, but not heavy. Quality ingredients, a mix between simple and complex—" She stops, and her lips quirk. "I'm boring you."
"Hardly. I like hearing you talk." I take her hand and thread our fingers. Because I can. Finally. "It'll work, Tot."
She shrugs but can't hide her smile. "Well, there's a lot of stops between an idea and reality. I don't have the money or a backer—"
"I'll do it. I'll back you. Hell, I'll buy the place if you want."
"No. Lisa, no." She softens her rejection by leaning against me. "It's a generous, lovely offer, but I don't want that between us. Business has to stay business."
"And we're not business." We started off that way. Until now, I didn't truly comprehend how much I wanted that arrangement behind us. It does funny things to my insides to hear her say she's here because she wants me, not what I could do for her, not because of that damn deal.
"No," she says happily. "We're not."
"Okay." I take another look at the restaurant. "But I can still help. I know a guy—"
Jennie bursts out laughing. "Oh my God. Please don't say he's in the mob."
I tweak her earlobe. "No, smart-ass. He's a restaurateur who happens to be looking to new expansion."
That gets her attention. "Who?"
"Ronan Kelly."
"You know Kelly?" She makes a sound of amusement. "What am I saying? Of course you do. Hot successful people run in packs."
My chin rests against the top of her head. "Hold on a second. What's this about hot?"
"Ronan Kelly is hot. Insanely hot. It would be hard not to notice that."
I grunt. "I'm not sure I like that you notice."
"I have eyes, don't I?" She runs a finger along the top of my thigh. The muscle tightens in response. Her hum is pleased. "Lisa Manoban, jealous. Who would have thought?"
"It's not the first time with you," I admit in a low voice.
But she hears. And grins. Because Jennie is evil.
"North?" She huffs out a laugh. "We have zero chemistry. If you were thinking clearly, you would have seen—"
"Not North," I cut in. "Although, yes, I was a touch irritated."
Jennie snorts but then stops and looks up at me. "Who, then?"
It's my turn to grin. "Kai Jongin."
"Kai Jongin? From high school? Seriously?"
"The way you used to stare at him like he was a god?" I roll my eyes, fighting a laugh. "Annoyed the hell out of me."
Her lips quirk. "How ironic, given that when I think back on that day, I realize that I, too, was probably jealous."
It's probably bad of me to be so pleased. "Do tell, Ms. Kim."
The wind whips a strand of her hair over her mouth, and she brushes it aside before she speaks. "You and Jisoo were always a couple. I had no one. I felt like a third wheel, and it sucked."
Pressing my lips to her hair, I'm silent for a moment. Jisoo. Always Jisoo, lurking like a ghost between us. At this point, I don't care if I never see her again. "You were the glue that held us all together, and you never knew it."
Jennie huffs. "Yeah, well, at the time, I'd have preferred a boyfriend or girlfriend. I'd only had one kiss up to that point. And that was only because of that stupid party game The Shed."
I freeze, my insides seizing up. Then my heart starts to pound with some weird mix of shock and satisfaction. "That was your first kiss?"
"You remember me in school; I wasn't exactly popular." Her eyes narrow. "Why do you ask?"
Hell.
"Lisa . . ."
"Okay." I hold up a hand. "In the spirit of our newfound sharing and honesty, I have to confess that it was me."
"What was you?" she asks darkly.
"In the shed. With you." I clear my throat. Hell. "I kissed you."
"What?" Her hiss carries over the area, and a couple glances our way.
Taking her hand, I help her up, grab our trash, and dump it before walking with her toward the old restaurant. "I drew a number, went in the shed, and waited. A girl came in. About five seconds later, I knew it was you."
"How?" she whispers, still shocked.
"Jennie, we may have been enemies, but I knew your scent like I knew home."
"Please. I smelled like any other girl back then."
"You stumbled or stubbed your toe on the way in and muttered 'shit sticks' under your breath." I chuckle at the memory. "I was shocked as hell. And turned on—as much as a thirteen-year-old kid could be."
Her pretty mouth falls open. "Oh my God. It was truly you?"
"Yes."
"You knew it was me, and you kissed me anyway." She stares up at me like she's seeing me anew. "Why?"
"I wanted to know how it would feel." I take a step closer. "I knew it was you, and I was strangely relieved that I wouldn't have to kiss anyone else."
Her gaze turns hazy as if she's remembering. "You were sweet."
"So were you." My hand drifts up to cup her jaw. "I liked it."
A frown wrinkles her brow. "Why did you pretend you kissed Jisoo?"
Shrugging, I turn and study the restaurant. "I liked it too much. And there you were, glaring daggers at me throughout the party. Seemed safer, easier to ask Xander to switch numbers and pretend it didn't happen."
Jennie is silent. A frown works between her brows. "You started dating Jisoo that night."
She doesn't say it, but we both know the truth. Everything changed that night, for the worst. The wedge between Jennie and me grew wider.
"I made a lot of mistakes in my life," I say quietly. "I don't want to make more." Glancing at the restaurant, I take Jennie's hand in mine. "Do you want me to call Ronan?"
She doesn't answer immediately but stares at me. "All right," she says finally. "Yes, please."
"Consider it done."
"Thank you, Lisa." She startles me with a short amused laugh. "I should be giddy at the thought of meeting Ronan Kelly. But all I can think of is that kiss and how I'm so glad it was you and not that dickhead Xander."
I tug her into a hug. "Yeah, well, I'd rather you think of kissing me instead of thinking about meeting Ronan, so I'm not complaining." What I don't tell her is I'm increasingly convinced I want her to be the last woman I kiss, the only one. The fact that she might not feel the same scares the hell out of me. My history of retreating from situations I can't control has me holding on to her a little tighter.
Don't fuck this up. Somehow, I'm afraid I will.
..
"I've come bearing refreshments." Jennie stops in front of the double-wide lounger I'm sitting on reading scripts.
We spent the morning apart. I wanted to give Jennie time to get used to being with me. It wasn't easy. I wanted—needed—to know if she was all right. Maybe I just wanted to see if she'd come find me. Yes, I'm a needy fucker.
I move the pile of scripts to the far side of the lounge to make room for her. "Hand it over, and sit," I say, making her roll her eyes at my order. "What do you have for me this time?"
Jennie often grumps about me comparing her to luscious foods, but I can't help it. I can't think of a time when Jennie hasn't been taking care of the people in her world by offering them food and drinks. For Jennie food is love. Truth is, that more than anything pushed me to take her up on the offer to be my chef; I wanted to be cared for by Jennie even if I received it in the most circuitous of ways.
"Pimm's cup." Jennie gets comfortable, bending her legs as she leans back. "My favorite lazy-day afternoon drink."
I take a long drink and let the taste of Jennie's lazy day slide down. It's crisp, sweet, a burst of freshness. Kind of like Jennie.
"How's the leg?" She sits forward and peers at my calf.
Earlier, I went with North to the doctor's to get my cast off. The first sight of my emaciated leg wasn't heartening. I wiggle my toes, and the weakened muscles along my leg shift beneath my pasty skin. "Looks like hell, but it feels good. No pain or twinges."
"And your back?" Her lips twitch as she carefully keeps her eyes on my leg. Is she remembering the spectacular attention she gave my dick as I soaked away my aches? I hope so.
"Good as new. You must have magic fingers."
A furious blush graces her cheeks, but Jennie doesn't say anything as she picks up a script and starts reading it. Chuckling, I relax and drink my Pimm's, enjoying every damn icy-cold sip. The sun is low in the sky, getting ready to set, and the sea goes quiet as if waiting for that final kiss of light.
"Are you thinking about doing this movie?" she asks, the ice cubes in her glass clinking as she drinks and reads.
"I am." I lean over and glance at the script. She's reading the superhero one. It's supposed to be top secret, reveal on pain of death. But I trust Jennie. "Why? I thought you liked comic book heroes."
When we were kids, we used to camp out on her family room couch and watch the X-Men animated series. Jennie wanted to be Rogue, despite the fact that the character could never touch another person without risk of killing them.
She meets my gaze for the first time today. "I love them. Seeing you in this would be . . . I don't even have the words. Surreal. Awesome."
"I like those words," I tease. "But? What?"
She bites her bottom lip, clearly considering her words. "I guess it depends on what you want out of this career. You're basically playing a superhero now, only with swords and leathers. If you play one again . . ."
"I run the risk of being typecast," I finish, understanding dawning.
"Then again, these movies are insanely popular." She smooths a hand over the script. "You can easily become a superstar."
"Who will quickly fade when she gets too old and beat up to play those roles anymore."
She chuckles but shakes her head. "Not necessarily."
With a sigh, I lean my head back and stare at the sea. "I need to diversify, take on different roles. But all these"—I gesture to the pile of scripts—"are basically for action films."
"Nothing wrong with being an action star." She copies my pose, stretching her curvy legs out. Her little toes are painted bubblegum pink now. Why I find that cute as hell is a mystery. "Look at Harrison Ford. He's one of the biggest stars of all time. The majority of his movies are action films."
"Yes," I agree, deadpan. "All I have to do is somehow land roles in movies as epic as Star Wars and Indiana Jones, and I'm all set."
She gives me a nudge. "If anyone can own this town, you can."
"I don't know if I want to."
My confession has her turning on her side to face me. "Are you happy?"
Something deep inside my gut tightens uncomfortably. "What a question," I quip with a huff of laughter.
Her gaze is steady and serious. "It's a hard one, isn't it? Sometimes, I'll ask myself, and I have no idea what the answer is. Which probably means I'm not."
I set my glass and hers on the pavers and then turn to lie on my side so that we're face to face. "Maybe we're not meant to be completely happy at all times," I say. "I'm happy on the set, when things are flowing. Good conversation with good friends makes me happy." I move closer, resting fully on the lounger. She's close enough that all I'd have to do to kiss her is lean over. "I'm happy when I'm with you."
Her gaze goes slumberous as she studies my face like she's taking in the details and committing them to memory. "Would it surprise you to learn that I'm happy when I'm with you too?"
"Yes," I say truthfully, my heart thudding in my throat. "But I'm damn glad you are, Tot."
Her smile is small but pleased. Neither of us says anything more. I'm content to lie here and simply be—because she's here, and that's all I need right now. Slowly, creeping like she's afraid I'll bolt, Jennie edges closer. I wait it out, pulse thrumming. Her warm leg collides with mine. I let out a breath, and my leg slides between hers.
The sun sinks, hot orange on the cool-blue ocean. We could be watching the sunset. We're watching each other instead. Curled up close, our limbs intertwining. The evening light turns Jennie's skin caramel, and her eyes gleam like old gold. She's so beautiful she makes my heart hurt.
I press a kiss to her cheek and am rewarded with the sound of her breath hitching. I want to explore her mouth for hours, days. I'm beginning to think I'll want it for endless years. For now, I'll do as she wishes and go slow, starting with chaste, relatively innocent touches. My reward is her hand smoothing along my neck to rest there, warm and lazy. I feel that soft touch down to the bone, a throb of warm happiness that lingers.
She snuggles closer, her calf sliding along mine. It feels so good I'm momentarily distracted. My arm wraps around her waist, securing her against me. Her body is all curves and warmth. I'm trying my best not to get distracted by her breasts or the way they tease along my chest with her breathing. But damn, I want to touch them.
"Lisa?"
"Hmm?" I stroke her arm, touch her fingers. If I'd known on that fateful prom night that wrapping myself up in Jennie would be this good, I'd have hunted her down, thrown myself at her feet, and begged.
"Have you been avoiding me today?"
My hand pauses at her waist. "I wanted to give you time to get used to this." Us. We were an us. Fucking unbelievable.
She worries the inside of her lip with her teeth as her thumb brushes my jaw. "I thought as much." Her gaze lowers to my mouth. She has my total attention now. "Thing is, I missed you."
I can't help myself. I lean in and kiss her like I've wanted to all day, deep and sweet. She makes a small pleased sound that licks along my skin, and then her mouth opens to mine, the gentle touch of her hand turning into a desperate grip.
I'm not going anywhere. I tilt my head, drawing her halfway under me, knowing she has no idea how much I relish the freedom to touch her, taste her. "This okay?" I whisper before suckling her plump lower lip. "Kissing you like this?"
It feels okay. More than that. And she's responsive. But I want the words. I need to know she's as into it as I am. Jennie hums into my mouth, tickling my lips. Her body arcs into mine, pressing those glorious tits against my chest.
"Yes," she says.
Yes. My new favorite word.
A grin slips free. Then I lose myself in Jennie. I've never kissed like this, kissing because it feels so damn good my body throbs with lust. I swallow down her soft sounds, learn the contours of her mouth. The simple slide of her tongue along mine has my dick so hard it hurts.
Jennie kisses like she does everything else—all in. She kisses me like I'm an indulgence, a secret treat. And it turns me on so badly my movements become clumsy, fumbling and uncoordinated. I want to touch her everywhere, and my hands can't decide where to start.
I've never felt like this.
By the time we part for air, we're both panting slightly, and my hand is halfway up her shirt. A little closer, and I'm in heaven. But she pulls back, a pretty blush spreading over her cheeks.
"Damn," she murmurs, glancing at me with a wry smile.
"Damn?" Leaden with lust, I can only lie there, trying to control myself so I don't reach for her again.
Blushing, she shakes her head as if to pull herself out of a fog. I want to pull her back into it.
"I never thought I'd be making out with you on a lounger," she says. "I never thought . . . realized it would be so . . ." She takes an unsteady breath. "So good."
Her confession sends another bolt of heat through me. I cup the back of her neck and kiss her again. Harder, maybe a little fucking desperate. Because she's killing me here.
Jennie's leg climbs up my side, her body curling around mine. Her hands fist my shirt, the short strands of my hair. Aggressive, greedy. A grunt leaves me, and I roll to press her into the lounger, when she makes a sound of protest, and she breaks off.
Her lips are swollen and parted as she gasps. "I . . ." I suckle her lower lip. She murmurs a sound of approval, licking into my mouth before trying to talk again. "I think we should . . ."
"Stop?" I'm hard as wood; my abs actually ache with need. Take it slow. She wants slow. I'll give her anything she wants. "Okay. Give me a minute—"
She touches my cheek and gently turns my head to meet her gaze. There's so much heat in her eyes that my mind goes blank. "Forget what I said about taking it slow. I want you now."
It takes me a second to catch up. But my dick immediately pushes at the base of my shorts, trying its best to get out. This is probably the moment I should try to reassure her, tell her I'm fine with waiting. That there's no rush. That's not what comes out of my mouth.
"Oh, bless you."
She laughs, the sound muffled against my lips as we tumble back, and I kiss her like I need air. "I was never any good at waiting," she says.
I kiss along the smooth, fragrant skin of her neck, my hands filling with her sweet ass. "Never fucking change."
She nips my earlobe. The tips of her fingers tickle my waist as she gathers up the edge of my shirt. "Take this off. Take it all off."
So demanding. I swear, I nearly come from that alone: Jennie Kim ordering me to get naked. Jesus.
"Yes, ma'am." I pause. "Wait. Here?"
There's a reason I'm protesting the location; I just can't focus enough to remember what the hell it might be.
"Yes. Here." She lifts her head. Hair mussed, golden eyes dazed, she smirks, and it is damn sexy. "Unless you have some objection—"
"Here's good. Kiss me." I groan when she does. "That sassy mouth." I delve into it, taste her flavor. "God, Jennie. Give me another taste of that tart mouth."
She hums, and her hand slides down to cup my dick. Ah, sweet relief.
"No, wait. Shit. Condom." A breath shudders out of me. "We need a condom."
A whimper of protest sounds in her throat as she leans her head on my chest. I take the moment to clutch her close, grind my hard-on against her heat. She whimpers again, and I clear my throat. "Upstairs. Now."
We both scramble off the lounger.
The trip to my room is a clumsy dance, broken up by frequent stops because I keep pushing her up against any available surface to kiss her mouth, eat at it like it's my last damn meal. I'm starving for Jennie.
She's just as hungry, tearing my shirt off in the hall. It drops somewhere in our wake. Her strong, deft fingers trace along my abs as we struggle to find the bed.
"God, Lisa. You are so fucking . . ." Her pink tongue flicks my nipple. I'm not ashamed to admit I whimper. She smiles. "Gorgeous."
I've been called that in some form or other my entire life. It's never meant anything. Until now. Because she doesn't look at my body when she says it. She looks straight into my eyes. She looks at me like I'm hers. I'm damn close to begging her for mercy. And she isn't even naked. I need to fix that.
With a grunt, I haul her close, wrap my arm under her plump ass, and pick her up. She makes some protest about my leg, but she doesn't know how strong of a motivation I have. I carry her the last few steps into my room, my lips never leaving the haven of hers.
When I finally put her down, everything changes. We fall quiet, staring at each other. I'd say she is shy, but that's not it. Lips parted and swollen with my kisses, Jennie meets my gaze. She's soaking this moment in the same way I am. I want to remember this, the way the light caresses her burnished skin and sets the flyaway strands of her hair aglow, the way her eyes are wide and wondering. I draw in the scent of her skin and lean closer, needing her warmth.
Smiling a little, she grabs the bottom of her shirt and tugs it off.
"I wanted to do that." I barely recognize my voice it's so rough. Because she's standing there, those glorious tits encased in a pale-pink lace bra.
Her smile grows. "You can do it next time."
"There's going to be a next time?"
"I guess that depends on how good you are this time."
Cheeky. Stepping closer, I trace the strap of her bra, gratified to see little goose bumps lift on her skin. She sways toward me, her palm resting on my chest. I hold her gaze as I reach behind her and release the hook. Her bra slides onto the floor.
No, this is what I'll remember for the rest of my life. The first sight of Jennie's breasts. I've dreamed about them for far too long. My first wet dreams were about them, how they might look, feel, taste. I knew nothing.
She is full and ripe, the skin paler here, delicately capped with dusky-honey tips. It gets me so hot I'm shaking. My hand cups their soft, plump weight, and she shivers too. I want to say something like "Finally" or "What took us so long?" but all that comes out is the most important thing. "You're beautiful."
Her lids flutter, her breath hitching when I rub the tips of my thumbs over her silky nipples. Those sweet buds tighten, and it's all I can do not to swoop down and suck them hard. As it is, I tweak them, and she keens. The sound goes straight to my dick. "Get in my bed, Jennie. And get comfortable, because you aren't leaving it anytime soon."
—JENNIE
..
It's almost surreal, stripping down in front of Lisa, like I'm watching it happen from outside myself. That we're finally in this place. Somewhere, in the back of my head, I'm as nervous as an inexperienced teen. But then our gazes collide, and I forget to be shy or wonder how we got here. Because there is only her and the way she makes me feel.
Like I'm a newly minted version of myself, re-created into something glorious, something essential. She does that to me with just one glance. I want to shine for her. Only her.
She doesn't look away as she shoves her shorts off and stands before me, naked and hard. I've seen pieces of her in the bath; now I have the whole picture. I've never seen a more beautiful sight. And then she's on me, wrapping me up in her arms. Her body is hot and solid and so much bigger than mine that I'm enveloped.
The bedding sinks beneath me as she presses me down, dragging openmouthed kisses along my neck. "Anything you don't like, honey. Anything you need, tell me." Big hands, rough with calluses from sword fighting, skim down my sides. "Anything."
With a noise of want, she cups my breast, then leans over it. Her mouth is hot and wet, and I groan, arching into her as she sucks my nipple in deep. She releases me with a long satisfied lick and then does it all over again.
"Lisa . . ." It's a plea. For more, for it everywhere.
She seems to know this because she looks up at me from beneath the fan of her lashes as her wicked tongue flicks over my other nipple. "It's my turn to play."
Play she does, suckling my nipples until they're swollen and stiff and gleaming, then rubbing the flat of her fingers over the sensitive tips—a slow, heavy circle. The action is so lewd, so basely sexual, that I writhe and moan against her, my leg hooking over her trim hips in an attempt to bring her over me.
But she resists, her focus all on me. She makes her way over my body, learning every curve and hollow—gentle little kisses of shuddering pleasure, slow wet kisses of greed. When she gets to the rise of my hip bone, she pauses. Her hands settle over my thighs, gripping them lightly. Her gaze, dark and hot, meets mine.
"Spread these thighs, Tot, and show me what I've been dreaming about for far too long."
Slowly, I open to her. I feel the exposure in the soft stretch of my inner thigh muscles, the cool rush of air against my wet sex. My breasts jiggle with every shuddering breath I take. Lisa's attention is rapt. She licks her lower lip, and I clench deep within me.
With a groan, she lowers her head and kisses my pussy like a woman deprived of air. Pleasure jolts through me, hot and sharp. I writhe against that slowly questing mouth of hers. She fucking feasts, and I can't help but put my hand on the back of her head to hold her there, urge her to take more.
God, the feel of her tongue sliding and searching; my clit becomes so swollen and sensitive I'm half trying to get away. But she won't let me. The sight of her broad shoulders between my legs, the fan of her lashes shadowing an expression of sheer greed, has me teetering on an orgasm. She stops to place a soft, firm kiss right on my clit like it's something she has to do, this bit of utter affection at the height of her lust, and I fall.
Arching against the bed, I come and come. Lisa kisses me again, her hand soothing my quivering belly in gentle circles, then rises to hover over me. "Of all the flavors you've given me," she says roughly. "That was my favorite."
God. I lick my dry lips, my breath catching. "You can have a taste anytime you like."
Her expression is one of satisfaction and pure heat as she slides her palm down my belly and over my poor, teased sex. I'm so slick and ready two of her thick fingers slide right in. We both groan, her forehead resting on mine. "You need me in here, don't you, Tot?"
"Yes." I'm panting now, my body flush and shivering.
She keeps fingering me, downright dirty about it. "How do you want it?"
I cup the back of her head, gripping the damp strands of her hair. I tug her down until we share the same air. "Lisa, do you know how many nights I've dreamed about that thick cock of yours pushing into me?"
She shudders, a hard breath punching from her lips. "Shit. Tell me."
"So many frustrated nights." I lick her upper lip. "I want it deep and hard."
All sense of play evaporates. She gets a condom, but her hands are shaking so hard, and she drops it. She huffs out a laugh. "Hell, I'm too worked up." Her hot gaze collides with mine. "Put it on me?"
I try, but I'm shaking too. Softly laughing, we put it on together. Her abs clench as I brush a hand over her balls, her dick flexing with impatience. There's no more smiling. Her expression is almost fierce as she cradles my cheeks and kisses me. I feel it in my knees, down my back, in my heart.
Then she's sliding over me, making room between my thighs. Every bit of her is big and strong. Hard biceps bunch and strain as she holds herself over me, her erection pressed hot against my belly.
She cants her hips just enough to slide through my wetness, but she doesn't enter me. Not yet. Dark eyes peer down at me. I forget to breathe because what I see there isn't just lust. Gently, as though I'm a dream, she ducks her head and places a feather-soft kiss on my swollen lips.
"Jennie."
That's all. Only my name.
It's everything.
My arms wrap around the thick column of her neck. I'm surrounded by her heat, the fresh scent of her skin, the unsteady rush of her breathing. I take a small sip from her lips, then tell her what she needs to hear. "Yes, Lisa. Yes."
A breath shudders from her. She holds my gaze, those expressive eyes shining black in the light. The first push spreads me wide. My chest hitches. She fills me in a steady invasion. So thick. So perfect.
And all the time she watches me.
She's too big for ease. She has to work for it, a little in, a little out, each time sinking deeper.
And still she watches me.
Pleasure pulls tight. And then she's all in. She holds there, throbbing and shaking.
"Oh, fuck," she rasps. Her kiss is hot and demanding, almost desperate, as if she can't get enough. "What you do to me . . . you have no idea, do you? How you make me feel."
"Yes, I do. You think it's any different for me? Feel my heart." I put her hand between my breasts. "It's racing. For you."
There are no more words. Lisa moves, the power of her body undulating over me. We move together as though we've been doing this forever, like we already know each other perfectly. Maybe we do.
She isn't a selfish lover. She gives me everything, touches and caresses with such dedication and attention that I feel cherished. And she fucks with such greedy relish—sucking at my skin, thrusting into me with deep grunts of pleasure—that I feel adored.
But in the end, she rolls onto her back, taking me with her. Stretching her arms overhead, she grasps the headboard. "Ride me, Jennie. Take what you need."
All that power laid out before me. The high crests of her cheeks are flushed. Sweat trickles down her temples. Every inch of her is hard and tight with lust. I sink down onto her cock, and we both groan. I take my pleasure, luxuriating in her body. I don't let up until she's groaning and crying out my name.
We come together, falling into each other, wrecked.
Nothing will ever be the same again.
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