But it's the most intimate kiss of all.
Slowly, my fingers rise. She's wearing a barely-there thong, and I impatiently yank it down, uncovering her slick heat. And at the same time, I keep my kisses coming, lower and lower, until there's no more skirt, just flesh, just her, and she's waxed and smooth and wonderful.
"Please," she begs as I close my mouth over her. As my tongue finds her clit. As my fingers thrust inside her in time with my intimate kisses, my tongue laving her. My lips tormenting her.
Her hips start to move, and she's riding my mouth, her hands in my hair guiding me. And I'm getting harder and harder as I hear her raw, passionate noises. And all I want to do is make her come. Make her explode.
And know that I'm the man who took her over the edge.
"Yes!" she cries, and her body trembles, her pussy clenching tight around my fingers.
I'm already on my knees, but now her legs give out, and she tumbles to the ground, pulling me down with her.
My hands are all over her. Touching her. Stroking her. Listening to her soft sounds, her needy murmurs. "I can't get enough of you." And it's true. I've tasted her--now I want to claim her. Hard and hot and fast, then softly. Tenderly. I want to feel her break into a million pieces, and I want to be deep inside her, her body tight around my cock, when I come.
"Good," she says. "Because I want more, too." Her face is buried against my chest, but now she rises, her face and torso lifting as she meets my eyes. "I want so much more."
She unbuttons my shirt, then brushes a kiss on my breastbone. She starts to kiss her way down, lower and lower until my already stiff cock is so hard against my jeans it's almost painful. Her hand cups me through the denim, and I arch back, trying to steady my breathing. And when her fingers unbutton my fly, it's a goddamned miracle that I don't come right then.
She shifts her position, and I know she's about to pull out my cock and take me in that hot little mouth, which sounds like a slice of heaven. Except it's not enough. Dammit all, it's just not enough.
I reach down and cup her face. Her eyes flicker in confusion. "More," I say.
She licks her lips, looking so damn tempted. "We both have rules."
"I think we've bent those rules so much, they're twistier than nautical knots."
Her teeth drag over her lower lip, and I chuckle.
"A woman with integrity," I say. "I can't fault that."
"Pierce--"
"Fire me."
Her eyes go wide. "What?"
"I want you. I'm desperate to be inside you." I brush her mouth with the pad of my thumb. "So fire me, and after you're soft and spent on the bed, you can hire me again."
Her eyes go wide, and I can't get a read on what she's thinking. I hold my breath. I'm pushing the envelope, I know it. But damned if I don't want this more than I've wanted anything in recent memory.
After a moment, her face clears, and I'm sure she's going to tell me I'm an ass. That we shouldn't have done this, and we damn sure shouldn't break our own rules. She's going to tell me to go home, take a cold shower, and see her in the morning.
Instead, she says, "You're fired."
Nine
You're fired.
I don't think I've ever heard such magical words.
The kind of words that set me free. That open up all sorts of wonderful, decadent, intimate possibilities.
The kind of words that fire my blood and make me hard.
The sound of her voice has barely faded when I have her arms above her head, her wrists crossed, and my hand holding her in place. Her T-shirt is still awry, her bra all twisted up. Her skirt is around her waist, and her panties are around one ankle.
She looks wild and ready and absolutely beautiful.
I'm still mostly dressed, too, but I don't care, and from the way she's begging me, neither does she. "Now," she demands. "Pierce, please. Now."
I release her wrists so I can unbutton my fly, and it's only then that I realize I don't have a condom. Which is ironic, since I always use a condom.
"I don't either," she says when I tell her as much. "But I'm clean, and I'm on birth control."
"I've been tested," I tell her. "I'm safe. Do you trust me?"
I watch her eyes as she answers, and damned if her soft, sincere "yes" isn't the most erotic sound ever.
"Good," I say, "because I can't wait."
"Me neither." She reaches for me, pulling me on top of her and claiming my mouth with the kind of intensity that makes a kiss feel like a fuck.
"Baby," I say. "I don't think I can go slow."
"Don't," she begs. "Don't you dare go slow."
I meant what I said. I couldn't go slow if I tried. I've wanted her since I first saw her at Thyme, and now that she's half-naked and beneath me, I can't hold back. Not the first time, anyway.
I ease my hand between her legs, stroking her. Opening her.
She arches up, meeting my movements, body lithe and warm and ready.
She's slick and beautiful, and I ease over her, then tease her pussy with the head of my cock, just to make us both a little more crazed.
But Jez is having none of it, and she reaches down, her hand closing around my shaft as she guides me to her center. "Now," she demands. "Dammit, Pierce, I want you inside me," and her words are so hot and desperate that I can't hold back. Can't even take it easy. And I thrust inside her. Once, twice. Deeper each time, until I'm so deep and tight that it seems like I'm going to lose myself.
I piston inside her, my weight on my hands against the floor, her hips rising up to meet me. And her eyes--her eyes are locked on mine.
I'm close, so damn close, but I'm not ready to come yet. "Over," I say on a gasp. "Get on top."
With my hands on her waist, I roll us over, and it's so fucking sexy watching her ride my cock that I still may not last.
"Clothes off," I order, flicking my eyes over her clothes as I reach between our bodies and tease her clit with my fingertip. "There you go," I say, as her core clenches around me, tightening with her coming explosion.
She rips her shirt and bra off, then yanks the skirt over her head as well. She's fully naked now, and I'm still completely dressed except for my open fly, and it's so damn sexy that I know I'm going to lose it soon. "Come on," I urge her. "Come with me."
"Yes," she says as I stroke her. "Oh, God, yes, don't stop."
But I wouldn't dream of stopping, and I play with her pussy as she rides me--and then, as she cries out that she's coming, and she clenches tight around my cock--I empty myself inside her, the orgasm rolling over me with the force of a goddamned tidal wave.
And then, when I'm spent, she collapses on top of me, her breasts against my shirt, her lips brushing just above my collar.
I take her chin and guide her mouth to mine, then kiss her long and deep. "Baby," I say, when we come up for air, "you feel like heaven."
"Funny. I thought that was you."
I chuckle, then slide out from under her. "Come here," I say, as I pick her up. She curls against me, naked and soft, and I carry her to the bedroom, only then realizing how lucky we were that Del didn't decide to leave her bedroom to go get a snack.
I put Jez in bed, then strip and slide in next to her. She's wiped me out, but unlike my usual encounters, I'm not inclined to leave. On the contrary, I want to stay. I want to spoon against her. Which, right there, tells me something about the way I feel about this woman. Because I'm not a guy who spoons.
Except with Jezebel, apparently I am.
She's warm and her ass is nestled against my crotch, and despite the fact that I'm both spent and exhausted, I want her again.
I can wait, though. It feels too good just holding her.
I know I should move. Should get up and go to my own room. Make a cup of coffee. Do something.
But I can't quite manage, and the longer I stay like this the deeper I slide down toward sleep.
"Pierce?"
The sound of my name pulls me back with a jolt. "Sorry, sorry.
I didn't mean to doze off." I sit up, groggy and confused, and kicking myself for not having gotten out of here sooner.
"I'll get out of your hair," I say, as I push myself upright and sit on the edge of the bed, my back to her as I try to locate my clothes in the dark.
"No, no, wait."
Something in her tone worries me, but when I twist around to face her, I can't read her expression. "Jezebel? Baby, what is it?"
"You're not--you're not dating anyone, right? I'm not being the other woman?"
I almost laugh. I'm about as far away from attached as a man can get. And at least until I met Jez, that was fine by me. Now--well, I'm not exactly looking to pop the question, but I can't deny that she's made me reconsider my one-night-then-move-on modus operandi. Because I could definitely handle two nights with this woman. Frankly, three would be just fine, too.
"Pierce?" There's worry in her eyes, and I realize my hesitation made her doubt.
"I'm not," I say hurriedly. "Not by a long shot."
"Oh." The relief in her voice is palpable. "Good. I mean, I'd assumed you were single. Because you'd said you were meeting a blind date that night we met. I'm guessing Kerrie set you up."
"Not exactly." The words spill out automatically, and I immediately wonder what the fuck I'm doing. Just say yes. Just agree and be done with it, because what does it matter?
"Not exactly a blind date? Or not exactly Kerrie?"
"It wasn't a blind date. And Kerrie had nothing to do with it." Idiot. I'm an idiot who has no control over the words that come out of his mouth.
Except I'm not. Not really. Because for better or for worse, I don't want to pull my punches with this woman. This is new territory for me--but there's no denying the way I feel.
"Not a blind date," she muses. "But you didn't know what she looked like and--Oh! The initials. I read about that somewhere. That new app." She grins at me, and thankfully she looks amused and not scandalized. "You had me confused with a hook-up."
"Which was a horrible mistake," I say, then lean in to brush a kiss over her lips. "Because you are so much more than that."
Once again, I hear my words and can't believe I'm saying them.
At the same time, I can't deny that they're true.
Del had it wrong--Jez isn't a bitch, she's a witch. And somehow, she's completely enchanted me.
"So why no girlfriend?" she asks.
"Complaining?"
"Hardly. I'm curious." She shifts to sit up in bed, pulling the sheet up to cover her breasts, which seems a damn shame to me.
I lie down again, my arm up over my head. I consider ignoring the question. Changing the subject or, better yet, distracting her by pulling her on top of me and taking her again, hard and fast.
But there's the problem of that spell she's cast. I want to talk to her. I actually want to stay here in bed with her and have a conversation about my past. Seriously, it's the damnedest thing.
"So?" she presses. "Are you about to tell me to mind my own business?"
"No," I say, and manage to bite my tongue before I say that I'd like to make it her business. "Just gathering my thoughts."
She clicks on the bedside lamp, then slides out of bed, and I enjoy the view of her naked back disappearing into the living room. Then I enjoy even more the full frontal view when she returns with two glasses of wine.
"Just fyi," I say. "Wandering around naked tends to not be conducive to talking. For future reference."
She hands me a glass as I prop myself up in bed, then puts hers on a side table. She slides back in and wraps the sheet around her. "Noted. You were saying? About your pathetic lack of a girlfriend or wife?"
I shake my head, amused, then take a sip of wine, still not sure how to begin. Finally, I cut to the chase, "I survived the military," I say. "I didn't survive my engagement."
"What happened?"
"I loved her. I thought she loved me. And then three hours before the wedding she told me that she couldn't go through with it. That she didn't love me. That she wasn't sure she ever had."
She presses her hand over mine. "That bitch. Oh, Pierce. I'm so sorry."
"I'm over it." I shrug like it was no big deal, even though of course it meant everything. I meet her eyes. "But I don't do relationships."
Her brows rise. "You're looking at me as if that's an issue. It's not."
"Right," I say, and though that's exactly what I should want to hear, the words still hit me hard before sitting in my stomach like a ball of lead.
"I'm only here for a few more days, remember? And until Del is ready to run her own career, my focus is on her, not relationships, not dating, not any of it."
The hint of a smile blooms wide as she gestures between us. "I don't regret this at all, but I'm not a shrinking violet of a girl who's been suddenly mesmerized by your magical, mystical cock."
"It is pretty spectacular, isn't it?"
"I'm not about to say anything to add to that ego," she says. "What about these women on the app? Aren't they looking for relationships?"
"It's not that kind of app. Plus, I make it clear. I'm just in it for the night."
"Really? How mercenary."
"It's worked for me so far." But even as I say it, I can't shake the feeling that my brick wall of one-night stands is about to come crashing down.
"Hmm."
"You don't approve."
"On the contrary, it's pretty smart." She lies back down, then props herself up on her elbow. "Maybe I should follow your lead."
I frown, not understanding. "What are you talking about?"
She stretches out, her head now on the pillow so that she's facing the ceiling. "It's just a good way not to be alone, right?"
"Sure," I say automatically. But that's a lie. I'm always alone with those women. And as much as I hate admitting it, being here with Jez--touching her, talking to her--has only driven that simple fact home.
For a moment, we're both quiet. Then she sits up again and pulls her knees to her chest and wraps her arms around them. "We're getting far too maudlin. So here's what I was thinking. About tomorrow, I mean. Del and I are scheduled for a full day at the spa, and then at seven she has to be on the set for the night shots."
"Right," I say, more disappointed than I should be that I won't be seeing her during the day. "And I'll be here at six to pick you two up."
"Well, yeah. I mean, unless you have time during the day."
"Of course I do. This is a full-time gig, remember? But if you're suggesting I get a pedicure, I think I'll pass. But Connor's scheduled to be with Del tomorrow until five. Maybe he'd like a facial."
"Very funny. No, it's just that I was thinking."
"About?"
"Del. And how she might have more fun doing a spa day with someone closer to her own age."
"Uh-huh."
"Right," she says, then clears her throat. "You told me Kerrie's twenty-four, right?"
"Kerrie? Yeah."
"That's close. Do you think she'd be up for it?"
"A spa day with a movie star who also has a wicked sense of humor? Yeah, I think she'd be on board." I do my best not to anticipate where else this is going. But I'm seeing a long, lazy day stretched out in bed with Jez, while Connor watches over the girls at the spa.
"And I was thinking that maybe you and I could--"
"Yes."
"--do Austin," she finishes.
I sit up. "Wait. What?"
She frowns. "What did you think I was going to say?"
"Nothing. Backgammon. Something like that."
Her laugh fills the room like music. "Well, I think backgammon can be on the menu. But I've only been to Austin once before, and I was hoping you could show me around."
That sounds remarkably like a date to me. And while I would be enthusiastically on board with spending the entire day naked and in bed, the idea of a date causes a chorus of Danger, Will Robinson to ring in my head.
Because I don't do relationships. I don't.
B
ut somehow when I'm around Jez, I have to keep reminding myself of that.
Then again, she's already pointed out that she's leaving in less than a week. And I have no real indication that she's reading anything more into spending the day together than simply spending the day together.
Which I want to do.
More than I probably should, actually.
"Pierce?" She's frowning at me. "I didn't think it was that hard a question. Are you--"
"I'm in," I say, because I'll be damned if I'm going to let someone else show her around town. "Just thinking about where we'll go."
"Great. Good." She breathes deep, then yawns.
I slide out of bed and scan the room, looking for my pants. "I'll let you sleep. I'll go text Kerrie and Connor, and then tomorrow after we get them settled at the spa, you and I will hit the town."
"Okay," she says, but I can hear the hesitation.
"Problem?"
"It's just that at six o'clock tomorrow I have to hire you again. I was thinking that so long as you're not on payroll right now..."
"Are you asking me to sleep here, Ms. Stuart?"
She sits up, letting the sheet fall away. "Actually, Mr. Blackwell. I'm not asking you to sleep at all."
Ten
"This place is awesome," Jez says to me, glancing up at the toy pterodactyl hanging from the ceiling. "And these pancakes are amazing. I've never had gingerbread before."
"Never?"
"I've led a sheltered life," she says, her voice totally deadpan.
I laugh and hold my cup up for a coffee refill as our waiter passes by. We're on South Congress at Magnolia Cafe, my favorite restaurant in Austin, second only to the original Magnolia Cafe on the other side of the river. It has a laid-back atmosphere, tons of character, and food that I'm willing to go out of my way for.
In this case, it's not out of the way at all. Not only are we just a couple of miles from the Starfire Hotel, but we're also right at the south end of the SoCo shopping area. And since Jez told me that she wanted to buy a souvenir for Del today, I figured we'd spend some time window-shopping our way back toward the river.
"We're lucky we got in," I say. "This place is usually jam-packed on Saturdays, especially during South By." I glance around--it's crowded, but not crazy busy.
"It's not yet ten," she says. "Anyone who was out late last night is probably still asleep." Her teeth graze her lower lip as she looks up at me through her lashes. "I know I'd still be asleep after my very late night if it weren't for having to get my sister out the door."