Taking the Leap Read online

  “Hold on. Let’s slow down.”

  “Right, right.” Jenna sits up, still straddling me. Her hair tumbles over her shoulders and down her back. “Sorry. I thought you wanted to.”

  I sit up a little bit, best I can, anyway, with her pinning me to the bed. “I do. I do, but let’s…you know. Ah, fuck it.”

  I reach for her. Pull her down to my mouth. We roll on the bed, and then we’re both laughing again. Her laugh becomes a sigh when I drag my mouth along her throat. She tastes a little sweaty, and between my legs, I feel the pulling draw of a familiar ache, and then I’m back to wishing we were taking things slow, because I want this to last and last.

  At the same time, I can’t stand the wait. Jenna is already wriggling out of her dress, pulling it off over her head and tossing it to the floor. She lays back in nothing but a pair of lacy panties and a matching bra, and I swear my heart really does stop. Full-on ceases to beat before kicking on again hard enough to make me dizzy.

  It’s my turn to say, “oh, my God.”

  Jenna runs her hands over her body, arching her back. “Touch me, Sam. I want you to touch me.”

  She doesn’t have to ask me twice. I have both hands on her. That smooth, warm skin. Her curves are so luscious that all I can do is move my touch over her again and again. With slow, sweeping strokes, I move down to her ankles. Kneeling, I lift her leg to press a kiss to the inside of her ankle.

  “What’s this?” I brush my lips again over the ink there. I sit up to look at it a little better. The tattoo itself is well done, skillful art with lines and colors and blending. It’s a little butterfly.

  “A mistake,” Jenna says. “I got it on a dare.”

  I laugh and kiss it before sliding my lips along her leg up to the knee, then a little higher. I listen for her gasp, and it thrills me. “Why am I not surprised?”

  “Because I’m…” she gasps again when my mouth teases higher. “…the sort of girl to get a tattoo on a dare?”

  When I finally press my lips to the mound of her pussy beneath that lace, I’m trying hard not to shake. Jenna cries out, low, and arches to press herself against my mouth. I breathe her in, the delicious warm scent of her, and the smell spirals inside me, coiling me tight. An answering heat gathers in my clit.

  I don’t want to take my mouth away from her body, but I also want to get myself naked, and I can’t do both things at the same time. There’s a small struggle. I end up on my back, my jeans caught at my ankles, my cotton briefs somewhere around my thighs, and Jenna has somehow made herself entirely naked as she tugs at my jeans, and we’re both laughing and gasping and sighing with every stroke and kiss and touch.

  And then she’s between my legs, her hands sliding under my ass to lift me to her mouth, and I’m too surprised to do anything but open for her. She feasts on me, no teasing, no slow build, just a steady swipe of her tongue on my clit, over and over until I’m mindless. The pleasure is so intense, it’s close to pain, but in the good way. The best way.

  “You came so fast.” Jenna sounds like she’s in awe.

  “You got me there,” I manage to say despite being breathless.

  ❖

  Twelve

  Jenna

  * * *

  The only other couple of times I’ve gone this far with a girl, it took her forever to get off. I didn’t know what I was doing. But this time, whoa, Sam has gone off like a rocket, and I’m so turned on by knowing how much pleasure I gave her that I think the barest touch is going to send me off in the same direction.

  At the same time, I’m suddenly shy. I’d blame the alcohol for us getting to this room, and I’m sure that’s a part of it, but there’s no denying that I’ve had this on my mind since the moment I suggested we meet. I can still taste her sweetness when I ease myself onto my back beside her, not sure what to do next. Do we kiss? Hug? Are we finished?

  As it turns out, no. Sam rolls onto her side to slide a hand between my thighs. I jump a little at the sensation, and we both giggle. When her fingers find my clit, I arch and a moan slips out of me.

  “Like this,” Sam whispers. Her fingertips stroke my clit in smooth, steady circles. She dips lower for a moment, sinking into me with two fingers, and my hips buck and rock. “Oh, yeah. Just like this.”

  I’ve been fingered before, but never like this. Never all silky and gently teasing. Sam eases an orgasm out of me, and before I’ve even come down from that one, I’m already climbing the peak for another. The second is harder than the first and leaves me gasping, hoarse. Spent.

  I struggle to stay awake, but the soft sound of her breathing tells me Sam is drifting, too. Her hand is still on my pussy, cupping it. I like the comfort of it, of something beyond fucking, but something tender and lovely and hopeful.

  I wake up feeling chilly. The hotel room’s A/C blows the curtains. Sam has rolled over onto her side facing away from me, and after I come back from the bathroom, I’m not sure if it’s okay to spoon her or even to get into bed with her.

  I don’t know the rules well enough for this to even break them.

  I’m not sure I want to wake up snuggling with her. We had sex — amazing sex, yes, after an incredible date. But even though it was my idea to share this room, I’m not quite ready to share morning breath and tangle our toes. The room has two beds, and Sam doesn’t even stir when I tug the covers up over her beautiful lean body and get into the other bed.

  I’m out almost immediately. I wake with a dry mouth, yuck, but a terrific feeling of languor and satiation, which reminds me immediately of the night before. I press my fingertips to my lips and shiver, remembering how Sam felt and tasted under my mouth.

  Behind me, I can hear her muttering, so I roll over. She’s got her phone in one hand. Naked, she sits on the edge of the bed, her toes pointed to reach the floor. Her breasts are much smaller than mine, but I admire how she doesn’t need to wrangle them with a bra.

  “My mother,” she says with a frown and holds up the phone.

  I instinctively grab for my phone on the nightstand between the beds, but of course my mother would have no idea where I was or that I hadn’t spent the night at home. Sam, on the other hand, taps a message into her phone. Her scowl tells me everything I need to know. When her phone hums in her hand a moment later, she shakes her head but doesn’t take the call.

  “She’s so fucking hard to deal with.” Sam’s voice is hard. Her lips twist. She sounds angry, but she looks defeated.

  I swing my own legs over the edge of the beds I can face her. “So…why keep dealing with her?”

  She looks surprised. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, move out. Could you?”

  “You mean could I afford to? Yeah. Sure. But she’d lose her freaking mind.”

  “Sounds like she already does that,” I point out.

  Sam nods. She wears her nudity so easily, while I’m thinking hard about pulling a sheet up to cover at least my lap. I can’t stop thinking about last night. How we kissed and made each other come, and how now, in the light of morning, I’m not sure at all how to treat her or how to act. I’ve never felt this way about a hookup. I’m figuring out pretty fast, Sam is not just a hookup.

  I don’t think Sam Donovan is “just” anything.

  She looks at me as though she’s only now noticed that we’re both naked, but in opposite beds. “Did I snore?”

  “No. I just wanted to give you space.” I clear my throat lightly, awkwardly.

  “Oh, sure. Right. Do you need the bathroom?”

  I shake my head, and Sam gets up. I admire the cute curves of her asscheeks as she strides confidently to the bathroom and closes the door. I should get dressed, but I’d like a shower first. We have to check out by eleven, and we both slept later than I was expecting. My stomach growls, and if I wouldn’t kill someone for a black coffee, I might be willing to at least maim them a little.

  She’s only in the bathroom for a few minutes and comes out with her hair damp and a towel wrapp