Tease Me, page 5
My clit throbbed, wanting his attention, and I dug my toes onto the soft picnic blanket and raised my hips higher, silently willing him to touch me. He obliged, and with his mouth still on my breast, he rubbed his hands over the thick denim between my legs. I wanted to tear every scrap of clothing from my body, to lay myself bare for his approval, but I forced myself to wait, savoring every exquisite second, willing to ride out the anticipation.
He glided his fingers into my jeans, and I reached down to undo my zipper, but he playfully slapped my hand away. My breathing grew deeper, as did his, and I sucked in my belly and parted my legs, giving his fingers room.
The clothing restriction was as excruciating as the anticipation, and my pussy grew wet even before his probing fingers reached their destination.
Why the hell did I wear jeans?
Henry groaned, and I groaned with him as I writhed on the blanket. His fingers found my clit, and I just about shot right out of the bushes. The pressure of his hand beneath the denim was delicious agony. I gasped as he flicked my delicate nub, and at the same time, he drew my nipple out with his lips, stretching it until my hardened flesh snapped from his grasp.
He did it again, concentrating on two of my erogenous zones with mature professionalism. My orgasm was greedy, growing more intense with every movement he made.
I clenched my jaw and sucked my breath through my teeth, resisting the climax that threatened to wet my jeans at any second.
“Please, Henry, take my jeans off.”
“Shhh,” he whispered. “Soon.”
He glided his hand farther between my legs, and the squeeze of my jeans placed the ball of his hand against my clit. His finger glided into me. My world tilted. I heard nothing; I smelled nothing as every inch of my body was ravaged by desire.
I raised my hips, reached out, and clutched the blanket. “Oh God,” I yelled as an orgasm tore through me.
I snapped my knees shut. I opened them. I was trapped in another world where my body was in control, and there was nothing I could do. His finger plucked my clit, his mouth devoured my breast, and my pussy pulsed out my climax over and over.
I snapped my knees shut again, trapping his hand in my jeans, and I clenched my jaw as every muscle in my body rode out the miracle that rolled through me. Warm sensations caressed me like a big fluffy blanket, filling me with a massive dose of contentment. I’d officially found Heaven and was prepared to stay right where I was all day.
It was an eternity before I heard the crashing waves again and felt the whisper of breeze across my moistened breasts. I opened my eyes to see the most incredible sight. Henry had his eyes closed, and the look of pure satisfaction and serenity on his face was glorious, though it was in direct contrast to the ragged rising and falling of his chest.
I waited for him to look at me, and when he did, a beautiful smile curled on his lips. When our gazes met, it was like a sense of knowing crossed between us. Something unique had just happened. I didn’t know quite what, but I didn’t really need to know either.
I tried to ignore the moisture between my legs as I propped up on my elbows. “How did we do? New memory created?”
“Oh yeah.”
“Good.”
“Good? More like magnificent.”
He eased backward and helped me to sit. The first thing I did was look at my jeans, but I wished I hadn’t. “Oh, crap. It looks like I wet my pants.”
“You did wet your pants.”
I slapped his arm. “Thanks to you.”
“Are you complaining?” He cocked his head in a cheeky grin.
“No. But what am I going to do?”
Chapter Six
“You can wrap the blanket around yourself.” Henry nodded at the picnic blanket.
Trying not to look at the wet patch at the crotch of my jeans, I curled my legs to the side. “Great. I’ll look like a hobo.”
“A gorgeous hobo.”
I tugged on my bra, T-shirt, and jacket and wrapped my scarf around my neck.
“Want an Iced VoVo?” He held forward a packet of cookies.
“What?” I giggled.
“I know they’re your favorite.” He tore the packet open, and I accepted one.
“Tea? I brought green tea. That’s right, isn’t it?”
A warm sense of appreciation flooded through me.
He held the mug up and handed it to me. “Cows.”
My jaw dropped. The mug had little black-and-white cows dancing across a green paddock. No man had ever given me such a thoughtful gift, and I had to force back a swell of emotion that threatened to produce tears. “Wow,” I finally said. “You sure know how to please a woman.”
He wriggled his eyebrows. “Thank you, Memphis Jane.”
Henry was very observant, more so than any other man in my life had ever been, and yet we’d only been together for probably five hours, maximum. I nibbled on the cookie and drank the tea, and at every opportunity, I glanced at my suave tutor, taking in every laugh line and every gray fleck in his dark hair. Henry was the epitome of the sexy older man. If I wasn’t careful, I could probably fall in love with him.
Was that such a bad thing?
I had no idea.
I needed to get my mind off that subject. “So,” I said, placing my cup on the blanket, “what happened between you and Kim?”
“They just stopped coming.” He shrugged. “No idea where she went.”
I bulged my eyes. “You didn’t get her pregnant, did you?”
“No. No, I saw her the Easter after that, but then never again. By God, we were lucky though. Damn foolish, what we did.”
I had vivid memories of my panic after I lost my virginity to Will Appen. Yes, we’d been drunk, but that was no excuse for unprotected sex. To this day, I still wonder whether or not Will and I actually had sex and if that was the reason why I hadn’t fallen pregnant. Otherwise, it’d just been dumb luck.
“Come on.” Henry climbed to his feet. “We better get you home so you can get some sleep.”
His comment had weariness gripping me in a flash. I allowed him to pull me upright, and I stood aside, trying to ignore the discomfort between my legs as he packed up our things. He dragged the blanket away and shook the sand off it and then he wrapped it around my shoulders.
I followed his lead back to the car and wrapped the blanket around my legs as I wriggled into the passenger seat. He climbed into the driver’s seat, started the car, and reversed out.
“Thank you for a wonderful morning.”
He ran his hand along my thigh. “Thank you, too.”
We drove in silence, and I must have fallen asleep because it seemed like only minutes before we pulled into the drop-off zone at the Hot Horizon Hotel.
He came around, opened the door for me, and helped me out.
Oh jeez. How am I going to get past reception without showing my wet patch?
I must have screwed up my face or something because Henry adjusted the blanket over my shoulders. “I think you’re going to need this.”
I frowned. “You don’t want it?”
“No. It’s all yours. Looks sexier on you anyway.”
“Haha.”
He kissed my cheek, grabbed my shoulders, turned me toward the front steps, and smacked my butt. “Go on. Off to bed.”
I waddled away. “Sounds like you’re sending me to the naughty corner.”
He laughed. “Maybe I am.”
I tried to look elegant as I walked up the stairs with my legs apart, and when the sliding glass doors opened, I was horrified to see Needledick walking from the elevator on his way to the reception desk. I inwardly cringed as I scurried toward the elevator.
“Hi, Jane.”
“Oh, hi.” I faked a shiver. “It’s freezing out there.”
He frowned. “Oh, really? I hadn’t noticed.”
I jabbed the elevator button. “Yeah, sure is. I’d advise against going out.”
He looked toward the glass doors, and I turned to see sunshine with not a whisper of breeze to move the palm fronds and five girls walking along in bikinis.
Needledick turned back to me, frowning.
I shivered again. “Brrr.”
The elevator opened, and I jumped in and jabbed the button for my floor ten times. I let out a huge sigh when the doors closed, and the elevator made the slow trip up to my level.
At my room, I undressed, showered, brushed my teeth, and put on winter flannel pajamas, then strolled to my bed and reached for my diary.
I turned to the 13th of July and wrote, Henry Addison. As I thought about our wonderful morning and what I’d learned about him, I wrote, Kiss and Tell beneath his name.
Once again, I lined the pages with details about Henry’s miracle hands and how he could make me orgasm while barely touching me.
Why was that? Was it because I trusted him completely? Was it because he really was a skilled master? Was it because he was no longer a stranger, and I knew what miracles he could perform?
I had no idea.
But there was one thing I did know.
If Henry came back, I’d be ready and willing to see him again.
I put my diary aside, crawled under the quilt, grabbed my spare pillow, and hugged it to my chest. As exhaustion lulled me to sleep, I imagined the pillow in my arms was a man.
A man who would hug me every night and allow all my dreams to come true.
If one more thing goes wrong tonight, I’m going to scream. Usually, I liked to keep busy, but that didn’t mean having everything breakdown in one shift. With all the tiny bits of shredded paper that I’d pulled from the printer now in the rubbish bin, I put the toner back into the machine and pressed the power button again. Holding my breath as I waited for it to complete its usual start-up process, I prayed that the paper jam was now fixed.
With a pretty little jingle, the printer finally announced it was ready, and I sighed with relief as I returned to my computer and hit ‘print’ for the fourth time.
When the reception phone rang, I glanced at the clock and cringed. A call from a guest at two in the morning could only indicate trouble. I forced friendliness into my voice and picked up the handset. “Hello, Mr. Harper, this is Jane Nichols, Night Manager. How can I help you?”
“Jane, I have no electricity up here.”
“Oh, that’s strange. Okay, I’ll be right up.”
I put the ‘back in five minutes’ sign on the counter, grabbed my master key card, and took the elevator to the eighth floor. All the lights were working in the hallway, which was a good sign. I knocked on the door to room forty-six, and a middle-aged man in checkered pajamas opened the door. His glasses sat on his head amongst his scrambled dark hair, and despite the lack of room lighting, the scowl on his face was unmissable.
“It went out about half an hour ago. I’m still working here.” He pointed to a laptop screen that glowed in the dark.
I flicked the light switch near the entrance, and after the change in his stance, I instantly regretted it. With his hands on his hips, he stepped closer to me. “And . . . do you believe me now?”
“Of course, Mr. Harper. I have an electrician on the way,” I lied.
“Well, how long’s that going to take?”
“He’ll be here soon and—”
“It’s not good enough. I need to have this PowerPoint finished before morning and my bloody laptop battery is pathetic.”
I shook my head. “Okay. I’ll move you to another room.”
He threw his hands in the air. “Great. Just great.”
I held up my index finger. “Give me a moment to check the vacant rooms, and I’ll be right back up.”
“So . . . I guess I’ll pack my things then.”
“That would be great. I’ll help you when I come back.”
To the sound of his grumbling, I dashed to the elevator. It opened immediately, and as I traveled down to the lobby, I wondered how I’d get an electrician at this time of night. The hotel was fully booked for tomorrow, with most of the guests coming early in the morning. I needed this fixed ASAP.
The doors opened, and I raced to the desk, checked the room vacancies, and noted that room forty-three was empty, just three doors up from Mr. Harper’s room. I scurried back to the elevator and returned to the eighth floor. I went to room forty-three first and confirmed that the lights worked. Satisfied, I strode to Mr. Harper’s door and knocked.
He was dressed, but that was all that had changed. His clenched jaw and furling fists highlighted his anger.
“Room forty-three is vacant down the hall. Let me help you, and we’ll have you settled again in no time.”
He shoved a small backpack at me. “Here, take that. I’ve packed everything up.” He had his laptop under his elbow and rolled a suitcase with his other hand.
I led the way to the new room, opened the door, and flicked on the lights. “There you go. I’m so sorry for the inconvenience.” I placed his backpack on the dining table.
He rolled his suitcase in and hurled it onto the bed.
“Can I help you unpack, Mr. Harper?”
He sighed. “No, it’s fine. I just need to get this done.” His anger dissipated before my eyes.
“Okay. I’ll make sure we discount your room for you. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not your fault. I’m sorry I yelled.”
“Thank you for your understanding. I hope you get your PowerPoint finished.”
“No choice, I’m afraid. The boss needs it in”—he glanced at the clock on his laptop— “five hours.”
I knew what it was like to be under ridiculous pressure and felt for him. “Can I at least make you a coffee?”
He nodded. “Sure, that’d be great.”
Pleased that I could help, I strode to the kitchen and turned on the coffee machine. Mr. Harper sat at the table and began tapping away on his computer. I watched him in silence as I waited for the coffee to drip into a mug. Unsure how he liked it, I placed a sugar satchel, a pod of milk, and a teaspoon next to the steaming black coffee and brought it to him. “Good luck.” I placed the cup next to his laptop.
He blinked up at me as if he’d forgotten I was there. “Thanks.”
I walked out of the room, and as I rode down in the elevator, I vowed that if I were ever under that kind of pressure in a job, I’d quit.
Back at reception, I focused on my new dilemma. I needed an electrician.
I scrolled down the list of emergency numbers pinned to the back of the reception desk, and next to electrician, was a card for Jackson Kane, 24/7 Electrician. Exactly who I needed at this time of night.
I dialed his number and was surprised when he answered on the third ring.
“Hello, I’m sorry to bother you. My name is Jane Nichols; I’m from the Hot Horizon Hotel.”
“Yes. Yes. I’ll be there.”
I did a double-take. “But I haven’t told you what—”
“It’s okay. I’ll be there in thirty minutes.” The phone purred, and it took me a few seconds to realize he’d hung up. As I stared at the handset, I wondered what the hell just happened. I put the phone down and went to the kitchen to make a cup of tea and wait for his arrival.
A man came barreling in through the sliding glass doors twenty-five minutes later. He was short and stout but built like a footballer and had a wild mop of black curly hair and flushed cheeks. As he juggled his equipment, he nearly tripped over his own feet on his way to the reception counter.
“Hi.” I couldn’t help but smile at his eagerness. “You must be Jackson Kane.”
He put his hands on the counter. “Yep, at your service.” He winked at me.
I nearly burst out laughing. “Thank you for coming.”
“No. No. Thank you for calling. To be honest, I never thought I’d get the call.”
I frowned. “What call?”
“The call from the Hot Horizon Hotel.” He was breathless, and as he ran his hand through the unruly mop of hair, I noticed the fine sheen of sweat on his forehead. It looked as if he’d run a marathon to get here.
I tried to ignore his massive grin as I placed the ‘back in five minutes’ sign on the counter for the second time that night. “This way, please.”
He hoisted a heavy-looking metal box with one hand and carried an overloaded tool belt with the other. I had no idea why he wasn’t wearing it but didn’t bother asking. His tools jingled in time to his steps as he matched my stride across the lobby.
As I pressed the button for the elevator, I turned to him, but he snapped his eyes away and fidgeted with the strap on his tool belt as we waited.
Maybe he downed a coffee or something before he got here.
The tool belt tumbled from his fingers, and the thundering sound echoed off the polished surfaces of the lobby. “Sorry. Sorry.”
As he bent down to pick it up, I studied his broad shoulders. Clearly, Jackson worked out.
“Are you okay?” I asked as he returned upright.
“Yep. Just excited.” His smile was model-worthy, with perfectly straight white teeth and lips like plump raspberries. His tongue flicked out as if he knew where I was looking.
I cocked my head. “About what exactly?”
The elevator pinged open, and we stepped inside. He put the toolbox down and then caught my gaze. His lips curled at the sides, and when he winked again, I changed my stance, ready to kick him in the balls should he do anything weird.
“My mate Mickey was here a few months ago. He’s a plumber . . .” he trailed off.
My heart leaped to my throat as I remembered Mickey the Fixer. . . the smoking-hot plumber with the stunning model looks. I feigned confusion. “And?”
Jackson wriggled his eyebrows, and his fingers trembled as he tugged his shirt down. “You know . . .”
My clit purred as I pictured my top-model gorgeous plumber and the amazing orgasms I’d had by his hands. As my clenching insides made me squirm, I shook my head. “Umm, no, I don’t.”
Jackson squirmed, too, and a quick glance was all I needed to see the bulge in his shorts. This guy was horny as hell. And cute. And sexy, in an unassuming, guy-next-door kind of way. He obviously wanted Memphis soooo badly, and all of a sudden, I felt obliged to give her to him. After all, he did race over here at three o’clock in the morning.
