Our kisses are slower now, more sensual. I let Jessa guide me onto my back where she straddles me. She still wears her black panties, and I suddenly regret not removing those when I had the chance. What I wouldn’t give to have Jessa’s entirely naked body perched over mine.
In the lamplight, I catch sight of freckles sprinkling her shoulders and the swell of her breasts, details hidden by shadows until now. How can someone be this beautiful?
When I reach for her breasts again, craving their softness, Jessa catches my hands and redirects them to her neck and hair. Slowly, she lowers herself down my chest and abs, marking the trail with electrifying kisses that leave me panting with sexual frustration. I watch as she unbuttons my jeans and pulls down the zipper, yanking my waistband down far enough to release my throbbing erection from my briefs.
Fuck.
“Hold my hair?” she asks, one eyebrow quirking adorably as the soft surface of her palm brushes against the length of me.
I shudder, gently pulling her curls into a riotous ponytail at the back of her neck. With that, Jessa smiles and brushes her lips against my shaft, up and down and back up again until she slides her hot, warm mouth over me in one confident stroke.
“Fuck . . .” I growl, my head falling back on the bed in defeat. “Jessa.”
Her lips, tongue, and mouth are so smooth, wet, and tight around me, I can hardly breathe. When one hot little hand palms my balls, I can feel myself this close to losing control. Jessa must sense it too because her strokes pick up pace, inching me closer to the edge with each passing second.
“I’m gonna come,” I warn her between labored breaths, my heart hammering in my throat. I loosen my grip on her hair as if to say now’s your chance.
But Jessa doesn’t back down. Instead, she pulls me deep into her mouth, swallowing every last drop as pleasure rockets through me.
Holy hell. Now it’s my turn to catch my breath.
Jessa climbs up my body and flops to the side of me, both of us taking a moment to recover. Soon, our staggered breaths become low chuckles, and before long, we’re both cracking up.
“Why did we wait so long to do that?” Jessa says on a sharp exhale, a wide grin stretching between her flushed cheeks.
“Professionalism, I guess,” I say, enjoying the way the bed shakes with our laughter.
Is it too soon to ask her to spend the night?
I don’t have time to debate the pros and cons, though, because Jessa is already on her feet and slipping back into her dress. Catching her reflection in the mirror, she groans, pulling her fingers through her tangled hair. She’s about to leave, so I have to milk these final moments before it’s too late.
I slide off the bed and pull on my briefs, then pad across the bedroom floor to tug up the long zipper along the side of Jessa’s dress. When I finish connecting the tiny clasp at the top, I look into the mirror to see her watching me with a curious expression.
“Why, thank you. You gonna walk me home now too?”
“Of course I am.”
I smirk, and Jessa rolls her eyes, her lips quirking into an irresistible little smile. She bends over, grabbing my shirt off the floor and tossing it toward me.
“Then you’re going to need a shirt.” She winks. “We don’t want the neighbors to talk.”
Once we’re both decent again, I open the very door I had Jessa pressed up against not even an hour ago and lead us outdoors into the night air.
The soft breeze is cool against my skin, which still thrums with the excitement of our post-class extra-curricular activities. Jessa threads her fingers through mine as we cross my lawn and walk up my neighbors’ driveway before climbing the stairs that lead to her door.
“Thanks for walking me home.” She smiles sweetly, rubbing her thumbs against my knuckles. Just when I think she can’t be any cuter, Jessa proves me wrong once again.
“Thank you,” I murmur, leaning in, “for a wonderful night.”
Under the moonlight and surrounded by the chirping of a thousand cicadas, I kiss her. My hands instinctively rise to cup her cheeks before my fingers thread through her silky hair. She sighs against my lips, pressing against me with a hum of contentment.
When we part, there’s nothing more that I want than to ask her to come back home with me and spend the night. But I know better. I don’t want to rush her. Maybe the feels that hit me like a ton of bricks are one-sided.
“Good night.”
Pressing one final kiss to her forehead, I release her, stepping down the stairs and across the lawn with broad strides. One final glance over my shoulder proves to be worth it. Jessa waves from the landing at the top of the stairs, a soft, secretive grin playing on her lips.
Until next time.
12
* * *
CONNOR
It’s a beautiful day, so Hayes recommends we take our usual Monday morning Frisky Business meeting outside.
The sun shines brightly overhead, the wind whipping between skyscrapers as we walk toward Grant Park, morning coffees in hand. Car horns and bicycle bells may be irritating to some this early in the morning, but I’m grateful for the background noise. Anything to drown out the incessant questions from Caleb about my weekend.
“Come on, you’ve got to give me something,” Caleb says, jogging to my left side so he can meet my pace in stride. “Did you take my advice? Did you go to a class? Please say it was the blow-job one.” He grins wickedly.
The bastard.
“Fine,” I say, relenting with an eye roll. “I took her to dinner at the bistro and told her about the classes. It was her idea to go, so we did. Let’s leave it at that, shall we?”
“Which class?” Hayes turns and walks backward so he can face me, a new sense of interest piqued in him.
“Something spice-related,” I mutter, sipping my coffee too soon and burning my tongue. Fuck.
“‘Spice Up Your Sex Life!’” Caleb says loudly, pumping a fist into the air. “Fuck yeah. How’d it go? Did she get all hot and bothered?”
“Caleb,” Wolfie warns from behind us. “Don’t be crude.”
“That’s the goal of the class, isn’t it?” Caleb exclaims, seemingly unaware of his own bullshit. “I just want to know. For curriculum-planning purposes.”
“The goal of the class is education, you freak,” Hayes says with a laugh. “Come on, let’s sit. There’s a table over there.”
He gestures across the grassy expanse toward an unoccupied park table situated under a shady tree. Seems good enough to get to work.
As we all take our seats, Wolfie carefully unpacks our breakfast, a wide array of fresh-baked goods from the local bakery. Soon, I’ve got an everything bagel positively slathered in chive cream cheese hovering inches from my mouth. But before I can take a bite, I’m confronted with yet another question about Jessa and me.
“How do you think the date went?” Hayes asks, his eyes probing me.
I sigh. Of all the men at this table, he’s the one I’d want to talk to the most about this weekend’s events. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to get into the particulars of my sex life before eight in the morning.
“Really well.” I take a bite of my bagel, my teeth making a satisfying crunch into the toasted bread. I’m hungrier than I realized.