“It wasn’t nearly as much fun as last night, though,” she tells me softly.
“Oh, that’s too bad,” I joke when I place a kiss on the top of her head.
Tessa then tilts her head up so that her lips are pressed to mine. And it feels like I really am home when I taste her sweet vanilla scent. Her palm spans across my chest, before she pulls her mouth back enough to say, “I miss you in your cut.”
“Me too,” I agree. “I may be able to get it back on Monday.”
“I didn’t think Roman would actually make you give it up,” she says, brushing her lips over mine. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m not.”
Our mouths crash together again, and this time our tongues get in on the action, touching and retreating, over and over again erotically until my nonexistent fingernails are digging into the palms of my hands from how tightly my fists are clenched.
Thankfully, Tessa takes mercy on me, throwing one of her legs over mine and straddling my lap without our lips parting. Both of us moan into each other’s mouth when our lower bodies line up so perfectly that I would be inside of her if we weren’t wearing any clothes.
Tessa rocks on my lap as I have to keep reminding myself not to touch her, that this is her show and I’m just along for the ride. Or maybe vice versa since she’s riding me. Either way, I keep my hands to myself no matter how much I want to rub my palms up her thighs, bury my face in her tits, or press her pussy down harder on my cock.
Her fingers tug on my hair like she can’t get enough either. Then, Tessa reaches for my fists still clenched on either side of her and places them on her hips.
“Touch me,” she whispers against my lips.
“Are you sure?” I ask, even though my fingers are already squeezing her hips.
“Yes.”
I don’t ask her again as our tongues collide. I guide her hips up and down like I would if we were fucking hard and fast. Tessa’s breath hitches, and I know she’s getting close to getting off on the rigid length of my cock again, just like last night.
God, I wish I could feel how fucking wet she is and taste her. But since Tessa hasn’t removed any clothes on her body or mine yet, I take that to mean this is a dry-humping-only event.
Which is fine. It’s great. I’ll need to shower and get myself off later before my balls explode, but I can handle it.
Slowly, I test letting my palms slide around to Tessa’s back and then gradually lower until I’m cupping both of her perfect ass cheeks in my hands. Even through her pajamas I can feel the heat radiating from between her legs as I give her cheeks a rough squeeze. Tessa starts to tremble and gasp in my arms with what can only be her oncoming orgasm. As her body jerks uncontrollably, the tip of one of my long middle fingers ends up poking her right in the crease of her ass which sends her scrambling off of my lap faster than a bolt of lightning.
“Sorry!” I say when I see her standing in front of me, panting, knowing her reaction was caused by my mistake.
“It’s okay. Not your fault,” Tessa says while running her fingers through her hair, but I don’t believe her.
“Too much too soon?” I ask, wanting to know exactly what I did wrong so I won’t do it again.
“No, I liked what we were doing. A lot. It’s just, that’s a part of my body I never want anyone to touch again.”
“Oh,” I say in understanding. I scrub my palms over my face and swallow down the steak I ate earlier because it’s threatening to make a reappearance. Why didn’t I consider that before, that those sons of bitches who hurt her would have taken her against her will there too? “I’m sorry,” I say again. “I wasn’t thinking.”
“No, I probably should’ve just told you,” Tessa says as she goes and sits in the chair furthest away from me with her knees pulled up to her chest, her face still flushed with arousal. At least some parts were good for her.
“You can tell me, you know,” I say. “Tell me what you don’t like or what upsets you, then I’ll make sure I never do it.”
“Okay,” she agrees with a nod while studying her knees closely.
I wait for her to say something, anything, and eventually, she opens up. “I hate the smell of condoms. There were so many of them…all that latex…the smell of rubber.”
“Got it, no condoms,” I agree.
At that, she finally lifts her emerald eyes to mine. “I’m on birth control, the shot. Have been since…before, so at least I never had to worry about getting pregnant.”
“That’s a relief,” I say.
“And I’ve been tested several times for all STDs and HIV. Those were all thankfully negative because of the condoms,” Tessa says in a rush, like she thinks that’s important for me to know. “I’m clean, or at least clean of diseases…”
“I never even thought about that,” I tell her honestly.
“Well, you should have since we’ve fooled around and may do more,” she says. “Right?”
“Right, yeah,” I agree. “Thanks for letting me know. I get tested regularly too and haven’t been with anyone in eight months.”
“You really haven’t?” she asks, as if that’s so hard to believe.
“I haven’t. I swear.”
“Why not?” Tessa asks.
“Because I can’t stop thinking about you. I haven’t wanted to be with anyone else. I’m not sure if I ever really wanted anyone before or if I was just going through the motions.”
“Oh,” she says, staring at her knees again.
“So what else is there that you think I should know?” I ask before we get too far off topic and she doesn’t open up.
“Um, well, this is a specific one. My…breasts are very sensitive, and biting them really hurts.”
If not for the gum as a buffer, my back teeth would’ve probably chipped just now.
“Which man…?” I quickly change my mind. “No, don’t tell me. I promise I would never do more than lick or suck on your tits, if that’s something you might like.”
“That’s…that would be fine,” Tessa agrees, her cheeks matching her hair again.
“Anything else?”
“I never want to see duct tape again in any circumstance. Or the stock thing.”
“Of course not,” I reply, figuring those were pretty obvious.
“No work vans or storage facilities will ever be part of my future. And, um, I don’t think I could ever have sex with someone behind me again, unable to see their face, you know?”
“Right. Sure,” I agree, swallowing another piece of steak when I remember her on all fours in the stocks when we found her in the storage unit.
“The last thing I can think of right now is, well, I haven’t been back to Ocean Boulevard or the club since that night. If I’m going to live here in town, then at some time or another, I should probably go back. At least to give it a try.”
“You don’t have to ever go back there,” I assure her. “There’s nothing but T-shirts and bathing suit stores on the strip. I’m sure you can find plenty of both somewhere else.”
“Sure,” Tessa says. “But what about the club? Won’t you be going back to work at Fluid?”