Pulse (Pulse 1)

His tongue flutters over my clit as I push myself into him. I feel so wanton, so brazen. I'm perched above him, taking all the pleasure I can from him while he's fully clothed beneath me. I glance back and see his erection straining against his pants. I want to taste him too. I want to feel that.

I'm pulled back into the moment when he sucks gently on my clit. I'm so close to the edge again. I grip his hair, pulling it hard. His tongue spears into me and I fall into the clutches of an intense climax. I scream his name as I fall forward.

"Again," he whispers and I try to pull away. I can't. It's too much.

"No," I protest weakly as he grips my thighs even harder. "No."

He nods his head as I race to the edge quickly yet again when he sucks on my clit with reckless abandon. I feel so sensitive, so swollen. I can't take it.

Tears stream down my face as I feel the last orgasm rise from within. I curve my back, pull his head into me and let out a deep, intense and soul-wrenching moan.

Chapter 21

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you about the address change until this morning." Cassandra pulls open the heavy door of an apartment building in midtown. "I was so busy planning the guest list and getting a gift that I completely forgot we were cooking at his place.

"His place?" I question. I overheard her talking about her ex on the phone last week. Now I'm wondering if part of the surprise involves him.

"My boyfriend." She blushes at her own words. "Is it possible to have a boyfriend when you're thirty-two?"

"I think it's possible at any age." I laugh as I stand next to her waiting for the elevator to reach the lobby.

"So it's a surprise for your boyfriend?" I'm trying to piece together exactly what we're doing here. Not that it really matters. The fact that she's given me a huge bonus to take care of this private dinner party for eight is really all the explanation I need. This money is going straight into my culinary school fund.

"It's his birthday." She reaches into her pocket. "I got him tickets to a Nets game." She proudly pulls them out and flashes them in the air.

"He's a big sports guy?" I try to keep the small talk going even though the box in my hand that is filled with ingredients for the gourmet dinner I’m about to prepare is so heavy that my arms are slowly going numb.

She nods as the lift arrives and we step in. "He's at the sports bar with his buddies almost every night. He knows I need my time with the kids, so it works out."

"Sounds perfect." I smile.

"How's it going with your guy?" She finally presses the button for the twentieth floor and I feel relief at the prospect of being able to put the box down within the next few minutes.

"Things are better. He's not trolling the club for ladies anymore, at least." I adjust my grip on the box.

"I met my guy at a club too." She fishes in her purse for something. "That club I went to with Rebecca, actually. You know the one. It's in that hotel in Times Square."

"I guess clubs are the place to find a man in Manhattan." I breathe a heavy sigh of relief as the elevator signals the stop and the doors spring open.

"This way." She points to the left as she pulls a ring of keys from her purse. "Thank god he gave me a set of keys last month or this whole surprise birthday party would have gone to hell."

I laugh as I follow her to a dark oak door marked with a number six.

She only struggles with the key for a moment before she pushes the door wide open. I step through and place the heavy box down on the floor. I shake my arms, hoping to get some feeling back in them before I have to start cooking the five course dinner that Cassandra requested.

"It's a gorgeous apartment, isn't it?" Her voice trails off as she disappears around a corner. "The kitchen is this way, Jess."

I grimace at the thought of picking up the box again. "I'll be right in."

I just need a minute to find some strength in my arms so I soak in the room. It's obvious it's a man's apartment as all the furniture is leather in deep, rich tones. An enormous television adorns the wall above a granite fireplace and a wall of photos leads into the hallway.

"What does your boyfriend do?" I call into the apartment. He has to be in real estate or maybe investments. This apartment, and its view of Central Park had to come at a steep cost.

"He's a lawyer." She pops back into my line of sight.

"It's such a beautiful place." I try not to sound envious. I can't help but be. This is the type of place I hope to live in one day. A place I can call home based solely on my own hard work and

determination.