“I have ice cream.”
Closing her eyes, she groaned. “Don’t tell me the flavor. I don’t want to know.”
“Sure you do, but we can wait for it.” Taking the initiative, he linked their hands, and to his delight, she didn’t withdraw it. He led her through to the living room and sat her on one of the big, blue squashy sofas before flicking on the side lights to cast an intimate glow. He recaptured her hand again. “So tell me what you thought of the interview.”
“Interview?” She blinked, as if forcing herself to remember. “Oh yes, right.” He closed his fingers over her slender ones, engulfing them. “The interview. Well, yes, I thought something was wrong.”
“Any idea what that was?”
“Not really, but something was off. It didn’t feel right.”
He knew. “Yeah, I got that impression myself. But I have a better idea. She was trying to play us, Alana.”
He nodded. “I think so. She must have realized––” He broke off.
“What? Realized what?”
“The attraction between us.” He sighed. “Don’t deny it, Alana.”
“You mean she guessed? How could she?” Her hair fell over her face when she dropped her chin. “I didn’t mean––I didn’t think you knew.”
“I didn’t.” Gently, he used his free hand to tilt her chin back up. “Not for sure, but I know now, and I know I’m attracted to you. I thought you might feel the same way.”
This time he wouldn’t let her look away, but kept her gaze on his. She glanced down, then up, back into his eyes. “Yes,” she said.
Jules felt her capitulation, her admittance of what lay between them as balm to his soul. Battered and wounded it might be, but it was still there. It still felt, still yearned for things he couldn’t have and until now he’d assumed he couldn’t have her. He’d only decided on one last try because he’d seen her in the interview today. Felt her. “I thought it was just me. You’re very good at protecting yourself.”
“I have to be,” she said sharply. “I’m around shape-shifters all the time, every day. I can’t relax.”
“With me, you can.” Unable to stop himself, he leaned forward, tugging her hand until she rested against his shoulder.
Their lips met.
Jules had seen movies where sparks flew when the characters kissed for the first time. He’d always thought it dramatic license, but his lips tingled and his pulse throbbed. That wasn’t the only thing that throbbed.
He swept his tongue over her mouth and she opened for him. Groaning, he drew her closer, pressed her body against his, and felt ridiculously protective when her smaller frame nestled against his large one.
Their mouths fitted together perfectly. Deepening the kiss, he took a taste of her. The touch of fruity alcohol added sweetness to her spice. When he slid his fingers into her hair, and cupped the back of her head, it filled his palm with a perfection he couldn’t have imagined, even though he had a pretty good imagination.
Jules enjoyed the fuck out of their kiss. He had no intention of stopping, not unless she asked, but he wanted to take his time. There was only one first time, and he’d do it justice.
Not that he was taking anything for granted. First dates were magical, and he didn’t intend to ruin it by pushing too hard, asking for too much. Although he longed to take her to bed, to remove her clothes piece by piece, making his own journey of discovery, then displaying himself for her, seeing his body reflected in her eyes.
He cupped a breast. She pushed it into his palm, her nipple a hard point against his skin, so divinely perfect.
He finished the first kiss and took another one, bearing her back. Her clothes rustled against the fabric of the sofa. He didn’t stop until he lay over her, supporting his big body on his elbows. Gazing at her passion-drowsy eyes, he smiled, and touched his mouth to hers, then kissed the tip of her nose. “So,” he said. “I think we’ve established one thing for sure tonight. We want each other. Do you want to go upstairs and take this further?”
“You know I do,” she said in a breathless voice he’d never heard from her before. “But one thing.” Her voice hardened. “Is this just a way of you getting what you want from me?”
Startled, he reared back. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
She swallowed. “You must have realized that I was––that I wanted you. You should also know you can twist me around your finger.” She took in his body with a sweeping glance. “Probably literally.” Her mouth quirked in a half-smile. “But you? Why would you want me? I’m ordinary, I don’t even bother to dress like most of the other girls in the office do. You could have any of them. I’m no fool, Jules. So why me?”
Jules relaxed and grinned at her. “Because you’re bright, and pretty and you intrigue me. Because, well, fuck, I don’t know.” He moved, grinding his cock against her. She was still relatively demurely dressed, but she had to feel that. He was so hard she could probably feel the ridge under the head. “The others try too hard. They don’t answer me back. I can’t talk to them like I can talk to you.” He shook his head. “How the fuck do I know?”
“You haven’t talked to me much.”
“I’m hoping to rectify that. You wanna talk now, or later?”
“Later?” She’d lost her breath again.
“When we’re naked, in bed, with a tub of ice cream and two spoons.” He paused. “One spoon.” He leaned closer, his lips almost touching hers. “It’s vanilla with strawberry and blackberry ribbons. Gerald’s partner makes it on the premises.”
Her groan made him smile. “That’s wicked.”
“The ice cream part.”
His deliberately childish pout made her laugh. “Not the naked part?”
“That’s way, way beyond wicked.”
That sultry expression should be banned. Or at least kept for him alone. Maybe for Casey too, if they got very, very lucky.
Enough. If he didn’t get her naked soon, he’d explode, and he hadn’t done that since––fuck, it had been a long, long time. “So do you want to see my bedroom?”
He cupped her chin, and moved against her, his rigid cock leaving a damp trail on her stomach. “I want you.” His voice had gained a harsh edge. “We’re going to do this more than once tonight. Come on, darling, let’s take the edge off.”
She’d had more romantic propositions, but never one she’d wanted so much. Opening her legs, she felt him slide between them, the rougher hair on his legs abrading the soft, sensitive skin of her inner thighs. Sliding a hand down her stomach, he touched her. She flinched and whimpered. The contact was too much. He slid the digit down her crease and into her pussy, pushing deep, then sent another to join it, and widened them. The aroma of her arousal rose to her senses, inflaming her, sending her body into overdrive.
“Right here.” His voice sounded tight. He adjusted his position and at last, touched her clit with his cock. It was a kiss of welcome, but only a small one, because he moved his fingers out of the way, making room for his cock. Even to her cunt, which was hot enough on its own, his heat seared through her. He slid it to her opening. She felt wide open, more than ready to receive him. She was empty without him.
Jules gritted his teeth and pushed in. He kept her gaze, his pupils widening until the irises had almost disappeared, a thin rim of blue circling them. He filled her, then kept on going. She knew he was big, but she hadn’t realized exactly how big until he kept on pushing. “Nobody’s ever been this deep before.”
“Then I’m in virgin territory,” he said, rumbling softly. “I’m a lucky, lucky man.”
He withdrew slightly, and her cunt contracted, as if trying to create a vacuum to pull him in. Lifting her feet, she curled her legs around his thighs, then higher, her heels resting on the firm slopes of his buttocks.
Bending his head, he kissed her, then changed the angle, sealing their mouths together more firmly. He tasted her, his tongue flicking in and out of her in time with his fucking. Now she understood why he’d taken so much care to arouse her so thoroughly. His size had made his cock seem almost normal, but it wasn’t. It filled her and then some. If she’d been dryer, he might have hurt her, but he’d ensured she was ready. The slow preparation had soaked her all the way through.
He broke the kiss and gazed at her, his mouth stretched in tension.
He forced his hand between their bodies, grazing her clit. She gasped and arched up to him. “That’s it. Wider, I want you wider and wetter. Soak me with your juices, drench me so I can never get the scent out. I want to sit in my office tomorrow and smell you on me.”
She laughed, the motion shaking them both in a delightful way. He grazed a different part of her and she flinched in reaction.
“Ah.” The sound was deeply satisfied. “It’s there, is it?”
Her sweet spot. From what she’d read, Alana’s G-spot wasn’t in the same place as many others, but a little deeper. She rarely got an orgasm from sex, but enjoyed it anyway. It had just not burned her boats before. This time fire seared through her.
Flattening her hands on the mattress, she used them as leverage, pushing higher, grinding her pubis against him. Her sensitivity blossomed in every pore of her body. Instinctively, she squirmed away, but Jules put one big hand on her shoulder and held her in position. “Take it!”
His grated words stopped her, and fresh sensation coursed through her. She lost her breath, lost the ability to breathe, and when he slammed his mouth on hers, she sucked on his tongue and gripped his shoulder so tight she left marks.
Although the realization hit her, she couldn’t stop. He worked her, sweat gleaming on the honed muscles of his chest, his shoulders tensing as he refused to give in to his own impending orgasm. “You’re coming before I do,” he told her in a voice that refused to take any contradiction.
The world stopped, poised. Sometimes before she attained this moment and then everything had dissipated. Not this time. He pushed her over the edge.
A voice cried out––hers. Panting and calling wordlessly, she gasped her way through the first vaginal orgasm she’d ever experienced.