Jenna’s laugh was a little rueful. ‘What is she getting herself into?’ she wondered.
‘Never mind her,’ said Jason, removing the book from Jenna’s hand and laying it ge
ntly on the table before cupping her cheek. ‘What have you got yourself into, eh?’
Jenna recognised the dark look in his eye and felt the familiar thrill.
‘What do you mean?’ she whispered.
‘You haven’t forgotten that bargain we made, have you? Back at the services?’
‘Oh.’ Her mind returned to that crowded, striplit café and the way she had walked back into it, knickerless beneath her skirt. ‘No.’
‘You get to drive my career. I get to drive you. And I feel in the mood for a nice drive tonight.’
‘What, after all that time we spent on the M1 today?’
But Jenna’s voice wavered and she knew Jason wouldn’t be diverted with a quip.
‘That was a boring drive. Too smooth. I’m thinking of something a little bit . . .’ He leant forward, his breath advancing towards her ear, then his lips were there. ‘Rougher.’
‘A dirt track?’ suggested Jenna, then she laughed with shock and her hand flew to her mouth at the image that came to mind.
Jason chuckled into her ear.
She could have kicked herself.
‘If that’s what you want . . .’
‘I was joking,’ she said hastily. ‘I meant . . . more of a B road.’
‘You want me to take the B route, eh?’
Oh God, this was even worse!
‘No, the A road,’ she said decisively. ‘Jason, can we just say it straight out? I’m just being stupid, not issuing an invitation to you to . . . to . . . oh God.’
‘Have your arse?’ he murmured, kissing her eartip.
‘Not tonight,’ she said and she was firm.
‘But you’re not saying never?’
‘I’m not . . . saying . . . oh, that feels good.’
He was kissing the space below her earlobe, pushing the tip of his tongue into the yielding skin of her neck. His teeth nipped, ever so faintly, at the dampened patches, sending tingles through her that made her want to swoon.
Moving swiftly and without hesitation, he laid her flat on her back on the sofa, covering her with his own weight. She enjoyed the stalwart heaviness of him, the breadth of his chest, the length of his legs as they slid into position between hers.
He was wearing jeans and his shirt had come untucked from the waistband so she could reach inside and put her palm to the warm, hairy expanse inside.
‘You need a good suit,’ she’d said earlier on when they dressed for dinner. ‘For meetings.’
‘Oh yeah?’ he’d retorted. ‘Well, if you get to dress me, I get to dress you. So watch it.’
She’d brushed the remark aside at the time as typical Jason chippiness, but now, as his lips descended on hers and she felt the domination of his body upon her, it returned to her. Jason needed some control over his life. He was going to make her pay for what she took from him in full.
The thought aroused her as she pictured herself made to attend meetings in tiny shiny miniskirts and fishnet bralets, Jason by her side in a sharp Prada suit, one hand on her tightly-packed bottom.