Red Hot Reunion

Their hips bucked and rolled together as he pumped in and out of her wetness. He pressed his thumb to her clitoris again and as her muscles began to clench around him she was so overwhelmed by the power of her second orgasm that she was barely cognizant of Jason finally experiencing his own equally violent release.

As their breathing slowed, Emma somehow found the wherewithal to keep from declaring her undying love. Fun and sexy was all he wanted, so that’s what she was going to give him.

Emma knew she was sticking her head in the sand and that at some point in the very near future they would have to actually talk instead of just having more hot sex. But she was afraid that that future conversation might break apart their new and fragile bond.

Plus, she told herself, hadn’t something about their lovemaking just now been different?

Yes, it had been hot and out of control, like always. But Jason hadn’t been quite as aggressive, quite as focused on dominating her. She certainly wasn’t complaining about the sex they’d had during the past three days—it had been beyond her wildest dreams—but it was nice to finally feel like she was

contributing more than just her naked body, that Jason was getting something emotional from her that he couldn’t get from anyone else.

“Ready for dessert yet?” she murmured into his ear, wanting more of his touch, hoping that each orgasm would bring them closer together.

When he pulled back, he was grinning. “You’re insatiable, woman.”

Matching his grin with her own, feeling that somehow he’d just given her a big compliment, she smiled a very feminine smile. “I know.”

Twelve

Thirty minutes later, they were sitting cross-legged on the colorful rug on Jason’s living room floor, a bowl of plump red strawberries and a smaller bowl of freshly whipped cream between them.

“I hope you’re planning on feeding me some of these. A guy needs to keep his strength up, you know.”

Laughing, Emma shoved a strawberry into his open mouth. Juice dribbled down his chin and she leaned forward to lick it off.

“You know what?” he asked in a low voice.

“What?” The word came out barely loud enough to reach him.

“I never thought I’d say this, but food can wait. This can’t.”

His mouth claimed hers as he greedily demanded more of what she was dying to give him. She wrapped her arms around his waist and clung to him, desperate as always for his touch.

He pulled her on top of him and then as he kissed her senseless he rolled them over. She moaned as his hard, muscular heat enveloped her. He made a growling sound deep in his throat as he grasped her cotton dress with both hands and ripped it open down the middle.

Emma was secretly thrilled at his loss of control. “You’d better be planning to buy me a new dress.”

“I’ll buy you a hundred new dresses if you want,” he replied, “but right now that one was in my way.”

Emma couldn’t fight back her grin. It felt so good to know that he wanted her enough to rip the clothes from her body. She was about to say something cute and witty, when all of a sudden, she felt something cool and wet on her lips, quickly followed by his tongue. He gently nipped at each sensitive patch of her lips, dipping his tongue into the corners to get at the whipped cream, taking small bites at her lower lip, running the tip of his tongue over the arch of her upper lip.

“Good?” she barely managed to ask.

“Very sweet.”

The next dollop landed on her ni**les and as he bent down to clean her off, the light stubble on his cheeks brushed against the underside of her br**sts. He ran his fingers over her hard sticky br**sts.

“You have the most amazing tits.” “I do?” she said, sincerely doubtful that her natural Bcups could ever compete with the silicone wonders she’d seen him photographed with over the years.

“Oh yes,” he replied, cupping each of them in his hands, sliding his thumbs over the taut tips. Running hot kisses down her stomach, he kissed the upper seam of her panties. “It would be a shame to have to rip these off.” Spooning whipped cream onto the lace he sucked at her mound and an orgasm whipped

through her, from zero to ninety in under a second. And then he was naked and rolling onto his back, pulling her up to straddle him. Slipping on a condom, he slid her sticky panties to one side and positioned her above his hard shaft.

She moved with an instinctive rhythm above him, slowly up then down on his shaft, then faster and more insistent as the wonderful pressure built up inside of her.

On the verge of release, Jason pulled her into a kiss and as their mouths connected he plunged his tongue in and out in the same rhythm that he was rocking his pelvis against hers, both of them losing control.

Gasping, he ground himself against her as he pulsed deep inside.

Minutes later, on the verge of falling asleep in the middle of his rug, Jason picked Emma up and carried her to his bed. Wrapping his arms around her, she closed her eyes, happier than she’d been in a very, very long time.

Emma woke up the next morning just as Jason was tucking his shirt in and fastening his belt. He was freshly showered and smelled so good that she wanted to pull him back down to the bed to make love again.

“Do you have to go?” she asked, hating the whine in her voice, but unable to keep it at bay.

“Duty calls,” he said on a grin, but she could see in his eyes that he didn’t want to leave either and that made everything all right.

The perfect day they’d had made her feel confident enough to tease him. “You world-famous chefs are in such demand.” She licked her lips, remembering just how in demand he’d been yesterday. First in the hot air balloon. Then the hot springs. Followed by a “cooking lesson” she’d never forget. “Having sampled from your menu I know exactly why.”

Suddenly she was halfway out of bed, in Jason’s arms, her naked br**sts pressed against his crisp button-down shirt.

“If I didn’t have to meet with my publisher, you’d better believe I’d have you tied to the bed, your long legs spread for me, begging for me to f**k you again and again with my tongue.” He ran his hands over her br**sts, past her waist, between her legs. “With my fingers.” He pressed her hand to his erection.

“With this.”

Emma shivered, the image he painted so close to the vividly erotic dream she’d had less than a week ago in which bondage and begging had played a major role. At the same time, she was slightly disappointed that, yet again, he felt the need to make it perfectly clear to her that she was nothing but a sex toy to him.