Chapter 9

9

B rock ignored every inbuilt mechanism to end this now.

He never dated the same woman beyond a week let alone two and extending his stay in Melbourne meant he was at risk of wanting more than sex with Jayda.

Their foreplay had alerted him to exactly how easily he could fall for a woman like her. Intelligence, wit, along with a hot bod. The danger signs were clear.

Besides, this was Jayda . He knew too much personal stuff about her already. It skewed his usual delineated lines. A fling with her had complication written all over it. He should walk away as he normally would.

But for once in his well-ordered life he shunned the sensible option. So what if two weeks morphed into six? He could handle it.

Maybe it was time to change his old habits and not flee every time a woman hinted at getting closer?

‘Six weeks, huh?’ She tapped her full bottom lip, pretending to think, but couldn’t hide the blossoming smile on her face. ‘Is that going to be a problem for you?’

‘Of course not.’ He responded too quickly and couldn’t meet her eyes. ‘I’m thirsty. Want some water?’

Her smile faded as she eyed him with speculation. Shit. No matter how much he wanted to turn his back and bolt before they’d really started, he had to get a grip before he fucked this up royally.

‘Sure.’ She nodded, and he turned away before she glimpsed the sheer panic in his eyes.

She followed him into the kitchen where he paused at the sink, opened a cupboard above his head, and reached for two glasses. He filled them from the chilled water nozzle on his fancy fridge door, frantically assembling his thoughts.

Her confidence in articulating a clearcut short-term fling should comfort him. They were different people from the last time they’d hooked up, when he’d been on the outskirts of her life looking in, resenting her for being outgoing with everyone but him, secretly lusting after her because he couldn’t get her out of his head.

He’d jerked off so many times picturing what she’d look like naked. Big tits, curvy hips, full ass. When most guys at uni were glued to porn online in their spare time, all he had to do was lie back and fantasise about Jayda to get off.

Now, he had her, wanting to sex things up for a few weeks. No strings. No promises.

He’d be a fool to fuck this up.

‘Does staying around for longer pose a problem for you?’

He shook his head and handed her a glass, gulping half his in one go, clamping down on the cowardly response of ‘hell yeah’.

She snorted and drained her glass. ‘So you’re staying around for six weeks rather than two. Big whoop.’

He bit back a laugh as she shot him a glare filled with fire, and damned if his cock didn’t rise to half-mast. ‘It’s only another month on top of the two weeks we’d already discussed.’

She threw her arms wide, pulling her dress taut across her magnificent breasts. ‘Everything in my life is topsy-turvy right now but after tonight, I want what sex with you provides.’

‘What’s that?’

‘Passion. Endorphins. Fireworks.’ Her eyes glittered with intent as her chest heaved, her conviction in what she wanted a massive turn-on.

Her boldness chased away the last of his residual fear. He could do this. Step out of his comfort zone, take a chance on more than a few nights with a woman, and have the time of his life in the process.

Not every relationship, no matter how long or short, had to end in nastiness and retribution.

‘I want that too.’ He thumped his chest for emphasis. ‘But my staying in Melbourne for longer than anticipated doesn’t have to change anything if two weeks is all you can handle—’

‘What about you? What can you handle?’ She flung back at him, her eyes wide, her shoulders squared. ‘You’re the king of minimal complications and the way I see it that’s exactly what will happen if we don’t put a definitive time frame on this thing between us.’

Her bluntness surprised him. Usually, people couldn’t handle his harsh brand of honesty and here she was dishing it back at him. She was some woman. But she was right. He didn’t do complications and if this thing between them developed into something more…

Fuck, no. He couldn’t do it, couldn’t let down his guard even for someone as remarkable as her.

‘We have a definitive timeframe, as you so eloquently put it. We agreed on two weeks, why change that now?’ He laid his hands out, palms up, as if he had nothing to hide. ‘In two weeks, the job I’m doing for you will be complete. In fact, it could take even less time. So let’s stick to the original plan?’

Emotions flitted across her face: hope, fear, anticipation, wariness. He recognised them all because he could empathise. Saying they’d walk away from this fling in two weeks was one thing, what if doing it proved to be more difficult than either of them anticipated?

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she nodded. ‘Okay.’

Relief filtered through him. ‘How do you propose we seal this deal?’

Mischief made her mouth curve into a wicked grin. ‘Well, I’ve always wanted to do it in a kitchen…’ She patted the island bench and shot him a glance that sizzled.

He lunged for her and she squealed, darting around the other side of the bench. When he changed direction, she did too, her laughter lightening his mood.

‘Sweetheart, if you want me to feast on you in this kitchen, I need to catch you.’

‘You’re going to feast on me?’

‘Yeah, until you’re incoherent.’ He grinned and shot her a look that made her blush. ‘I’m going to hoist you up onto this bench, spread your legs wide, ruck that dress up, rip off your panties, and tongue you until you scream.’

He took a step towards her and this time, she didn’t move.

‘Then I’m going to do it all over again,’ he murmured.

She whimpered and with a few more steps he was on her, pressing her against the island bench, his cock aching for release. He ground it against her clit, desperate to be buried deep inside her pussy.

But first, he had to make good on what he’d promised.

‘You make me wet with your words,’ she whispered, arching her pelvis into him. ‘I’ve never been so turned on in all my life.’

Her honesty slugged him again and before he blurted exactly how fucking great she made him feel just by being her, he rested his hands on her waist and picked her up.

He half expected her to make some crack about her weight again but this time she wisely remained mute as he placed her on the island bench, then slid his hands up her thighs, stopping short of where he wanted to be most. He could smell her, musky and sweet, and he couldn’t wait to get his mouth on her.

As if sensing his urgency, she shuffled her ass side to side, enabling him to push her dress up to her waist. She pushed her panties down and he did the rest, tugging them down her legs before flinging them away. They landed on the toaster and she giggled, an innocent sound of such joy that he questioned whether a fling, even short term, was a good idea.

Then she spread her legs wide, baring her glistening pussy to him, and his momentary doubt vanished.

‘Lean back on your arms,’ he said, not caring if she obeyed his command. Either way, she’d be watching him as he went down on her, the fluorescent lighting highlighting every erotic thing he intended on doing.

But she did as he ordered, the simple action leaving her splayed wider to him.

‘You are so beautiful,’ he said, before lowering his head.

He braced his arms on the bench, spreading the insides of her thighs, her slick pink folds the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.

He knew what it meant for her to be this open to him. She’d told him that first night when he’d done his best to prove how desirable she was.

So having her in his kitchen now, under a bright light, totally exposed, told him more than any words ever could.

She trusted him with her body.

And he would worship it for as long as she let him.

‘Brock, do it,’ she murmured, tilting her pelvis in blatant encouragement.

‘Eager. I like that.’ His tongue darted out to barely graze her clit and she arched again, adding a wriggle for good measure.

‘You’re teasing me,’ she said, scooting forward a tad, bringing her pussy in tantalising reach of his tongue.

‘No, this would be teasing.’ He blew on her, the gentlest puff of air, that had her moaning and inching even closer.

‘Or maybe this would be teasing.’ He slid a finger into her, up to the first knuckle, before withdrawing it abruptly.

‘Maybe even this.’ This time he slid three fingers inside while pressing his thumb to her clit, the kind of pressure he knew she liked, before withdrawing them.

‘Brock, please, I’m on the edge—’

She bit off the rest of what she’d been saying as he fastened his mouth on her and licked her pussy in a long, slow swipe that had her thrusting upward for more.

He gave it to her. Nipping her clit while sliding his tongue inside her, mimicking what his cock yearned to do. Lapping at her. Circling her clit with his tongue while pumping his fingers into her.

She moaned and panted, writhing beneath his mouth as if she couldn’t get enough. He knew the feeling, and when she urged him on with escalating squirming, he sucked her clit into his mouth and gave it another flick with his tongue, savouring when she fell apart on a scream that pierced his eardrums.

He waited until her breathing returned to normal before raising his head to stare her straight in the eye.

‘Ready for some more teasing?’