Perfect Strangers

18

Chiseled, sculpted, carved, hewn…you name it, he’s all the adjectives there are for hard, masculine beauty. His chest is a masterpiece. His abs could make angels weep. This guy makes Michelangelo’s David look like something a first-semester art student at a community college glued together out of old newspapers and cat turds.

It’s only a nanosecond after that thought hits that it’s followed by another, far worse: I have to get naked in front of this walking piece of art.

My sudden terror isn’t lost on James. “All the blood just drained from your face.”

I say, “Oh, don’t mind me, I’m just down here dealing with some major body image issues brought out in full force by how ridiculously ripped you are. Please tell me that eight pack is cleverly contoured makeup.”

He kneels over me, plants his hands on the cushion on either side of my head, and smiles. “You know it isn’t.”

Is my gulp audible? I bet it’s audible. I bet he can even hear all my cells screaming at the top of their petrified little lungs. “Spoiler alert: my body doesn’t look like that.”

He leans down to nuzzle my neck. “Good thing, too, because I’m not into guys.”

He inhales deeply against my throat. Goosebumps erupt over every inch of my skin.

“You know what I mean. Compared to you, I’m sort of…gelatinous. Jiggly. Like Jell-O.”

He lifts his head, gazes deep into my eyes, takes one of my hands and presses it against the monster straining for release under the zipper of his jeans, and murmurs, “I love Jell-O. Can’t you tell?”

Before I can sigh dreamily and slide off the sofa to lie in a bedazzled heap on the floor, he settles his pelvis between my spread thighs and lowers his upper body against mine, balancing on his elbows above me. Then he kisses me again, a deep, slow kiss that has me squirming underneath him within seconds.

I need to remember to send Estelle a thank you note for buying such a large and comfortable sofa.

James chuckles against my mouth. “Is all this wriggling an escape attempt or am I doing something right?”

“You’re fishing for compliments again. That’s a bad habit of yours, Romeo.”

His lips brush against mine, whisper soft. His voice comes very low. “It’s not about compliments. It’s about feedback. I want to make you feel good. I want to know what you like.”

Heat detonates throughout my body, leaving me tongue tied and sweating. The heat wave is followed by panic, because I don’t have any idea what I’m going to put on the list he demanded of all the things I want him to do to me in bed.

Though they’re two of my favorite things, cuddling and foot massage are probably not what he has in mind.

I say meekly, “Oh, okay. Um…this is very nice.”

One of his brows climbs. “Nice? Hmm.”

The hmm sounds vaguely threatening, but I don’t have time to dwell on it. I’m too preoccupied trying not to die at the electric touch of his tongue against my bare stomach.

He pushes my T-shirt up so my bra is exposed and bends his head to my belly, licking and kissing a slow path from the bottom of my bra to the top button of my jeans. I lie frozen, panting, staring glassy-eyed at the ceiling, convinced his tongue is equipped with tiny electrodes due to the pulsing currents of electricity shooting straight down between my legs.

When he sinks his teeth into my flesh, I jump, gasping.

“Too hard?” His voice is muffled by my skin. He kisses where he nipped, his mouth gentle.

“N—no. Just wasn’t ready for it. Ignore me. Busy dying. Proceed.”

He rewards my breathless blathering with an indulgent chuckle and a firm squeeze of his big hands around my waist. He flicks open the button on my jeans with his thumb, then eases the zipper down, nuzzling his nose deep into my panties.

When he gently bites me there, too, I moan.

“That sounds encouraging,” he whispers. “Let’s see if I can get you to do it again.”

He tugs on the waistband of my jeans, sliding them past my hips to the middle of my thighs. Then he pulls down my panties and stares at me, exposed and trembling.

His eyes burning black with desire, he licks the pad of his thumb, slips it between my legs, and presses down on the engorged bud of my c******s.

I suck in a breath, closing my eyes. When he lazily strokes his thumb up and down, I give him the moan he wanted, this one louder than before.

“Tell me what you want, Olivia.”

“I want…” To not have to talk about what I want.

“Be brave. Talk to me.”

His voice is soft and hypnotic. His thumb is wreaking havoc on my body. It’s probably the combination of the two that makes me blurt, “I want your mouth.”

He makes a pleased hum. “Good. Where?”

“You’re killing me,” I say, panting, my eyes squeezed shut. My hips start to flex in time with the up and down strokes of his thumb.

He teases, “You’re a writer. Use a few of all those big words you must know.”

When he slides his thumb inside me, I groan, arching.

“Although I love that sound, it’s not a word. If you don’t talk, I’m going to stop.”

Through gritted teeth, I say, “Bossy!”

He chuckles. “You haven’t seen bossy yet, beautiful, but you will. Here, I’ll start a sentence for you. ‘James, I want you to put your mouth…’”

When I bite my lip and stay silent, he removes his hand. I groan again, this time in protest, and open my eyes.

He’s kneeling over me, staring down with bedroom eyes and a sultry smile. He lifts a hand to my face and slowly presses his thumb past my lips and into my mouth so I taste myself.

Then he kisses me, deeply, until I’m making desperate noises and pawing at him, at all those muscles of his and his warm, smooth skin. I grab his ass and grind my pelvis against his erection.

He moves his cheek against mine and whispers next to my ear, “Do you want my mouth on your p***y, Olivia?”

Dear sweet Jesus in heaven, I’m dying. This is it. I’m dying right here and now.

“Yes.”

“Say it.”

Now that was bossy. His tone is low, rough, and unmistakably dominant, and sends a thrill straight through me. It pulls the words right from my lips.

“I want your mouth on my pussy.”

It’s barely audible, but it does the trick. In one swift move, he slides down my body and puts his face between my legs.