“You could get in the shower. The water will loosen it up.” Jack put his hands on her waist and looked over her shoulder and on down her bodice.
“That would ruin the dress.”
“Are you ever going to wear this dress again?” he asked doubtfully.
“Maybe.” Probably not. But it seemed so wasteful to just willfully sacrifice it.
“Then close your eyes. I’ll pull it off. Like a Band–Aid. Just one quick jerk.”
That sounded about as fun as Chinese water torture. But she didn’t have a whole lot of options. She couldn’t go to work on Monday wearing a bridesmaid’s dress. She’d look like she was making a push for a prison prom.
“Okay, go for it.” She screwed her eyes shut, spots dancing behind her eyelids.
She felt Jack peel the back of her dress down and stretch it forward a little to give him more room. Then his one hand held her skin, the other her dress, and he yanked.
“Yowww, holy crap!” she screamed as searing, burning pain ripped through her. Before she could even recover, the pain was doubled when he moved to the other breast and repeated the process.
“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” he said, blowing on her stinging skin.
Jamie forced her watering eyes open and sucked in a huge breath. “Oh, my, the room is spinning. Do I have any skin left? Are my nipples gone?”
Because she certainly couldn’t feel them.
“Let me check.” Jack’s mouth closed over her, flicking his tongue across her stinging flesh, cooling it.
He gently kissed her nipple and her eyes rolled back in her head—and not from pain this time.
Yep. Still there.
And doing a cheer.
Jack felt such profound sympathy for the pain Jamie and her breasts were in that he decided to give her an orgasm to distract her. Free of charge.
God, she loved him. It was an amazing sensation of wonder and excitement that was zinging through him, filling him with restless energy and overwhelming pleasure. It was unbelievable how whole that made him feel, how strong, how generous.
He wanted to give her the world. But he’d start with an orgasm.
The way Jamie responded so quickly to him just from a flick of his tongue made him hard. He liked that she didn’t have that preoccupation with pacing and appearances and neatness that some women did. Jamie didn’t look in the mirror to see if her body was displayed in the most flattering way, and she didn’t temper the sound of her moans.
So when he sucked her nipple, Jamie didn’t give him one of those lazy, you might be on the right track if you work really hard, kinds of sighs, but a nice, drawn-out, guttural groan.
Her body had tightened against his, tensed.
“Feel better?”
“Much better.” She gripped his shoulders and shook her hair back off her face. “I’d be even better if you took my dress all the way off.”
He could do that. “Good idea.”
It was pooled around her waist, and it was easy enough to shove and tug until it went past her hips and dropped to the floor. She stepped out of it, and Jack kicked it into the shower.
“Jack! That’s an expensive dress.”
“There’s no room in here. This bathroom is the size of a mailbox. I need space.” He had meant to get on his knees and go down on her, but Jamie seemed to interpret it as claustrophobia.
Her face softened with compassion. “Oh, sweetie, are you claustrophobic? Let’s go in the other room. It’s too stuffy in here.”
It wasn’t bothering him at all, and he wasn’t some wimp who couldn’t handle a hotel bathroom. On the other hand, there was something to be said for having such a compassionate woman as his lover. And he hadn’t been called sweetie since he was four. He kind of liked it.
“No, we’re fine here. I’ll be okay if I just kneel down.” Jack held on to Jamie’s waist and dropped down.
“Are you sure? It will just take two seconds to move to the bedroom…you don’t have to be brave for me—oh, my!”
Jack rolled down her panties and kissed her. A nice, long French kiss. Between her thighs.
“I’m fine,” he murmured, shifting her legs farther apart with a nudge. “Very fine.”
“Alright then,” she said with a breathless squeak.
Jack pulled back an inch and studied Jamie. Her head had dropped back, her hands reaching out for the towel rack, the counter. Her stomach rose and fell anxiously. Shifting on his knees to a more comfortable position, Jack spread her with his thumbs and swallowed hard. The ripeness of her body, the curve of her thighs, her breasts, her backside. The way she was gleaming moist for him sent blood rushing south, his mouth hot and dry.
“What are you doing?”
“Looking at you.” And getting really turned on. Wow, he could really learn to appreciate her body. She was a work of art. Worth ten million and then some.
Shifting one finger, he dipped it inside her. Jamie gave a startled cry. Jack stroked her long and deep, then pulled back. She sagged forward, her thighs bumping his shoulders.
He put his finger in his mouth. Sucked. Tasted Jamie’s musky desire. Heard her gasp.
Then pushed deep inside her again, mixing the slickness of his saliva on his finger with the hot smoothness of her core, enjoying the way she jerked reflexively.
“Oh, it’s cool from your mouth…it feels different.”
He could tell she liked it, could hear the growing excitement in her voice, the relaxing of her body down onto his finger, her thighs trembling. But he wanted to hear it. “Is that bad or good?” he asked as he stroked in and out, avoiding her swollen clitoris.
“Good…very good.”
So Jack pulled out and licked his finger again. Slid it back into her while she moaned, wiggled, tossed her head side to side. He did it again, and again, until his lips were slick and his finger slippery, until Jamie was whimpering and begging and knocking forward onto him.
Until he was so hard he was in pain, and his head swam, eyes narrowly focused on Jamie, on the pink prettiness of her body, the intimacy of what they were doing, what they shared.
And when he thought they might both break, he abandoned his finger and went in with his mouth. The taste of her exploded over his tongue, the warmth of her thighs surrounded him, and he closed his eyes in pleasure, held her ass tight when she bucked and thrashed.
“Jack! Oh, my, good gracious.”
Lifting his tongue up and down in slow movements, Jack savored the way Jamie felt, the way she opened for him, trusted him. Glancing to his right, he watched them in the mirror, his head buried between her thighs, Jamie’s back arching, her cheeks flushed with passion.