Of course it couldn’t happen in real life. Imagine the press! But the thought of it made her breath come more quickly, and she wriggled urgently underneath Jason’s bulk.
He released her lips and, to her considerable dismay, hauled himself off her.
‘Get your clothes off,’ he said gruffly. ‘Come on. Or do I have to rip them off you?’
She struggled to her feet, conscious of how her skirt had ridden up and her shirt was half-undone already. She was hardly the image of elegance she’d portrayed in the hotel restaurant.
She shucked off her high-heeled pumps and got to work on the remaining buttons with fumbling fingers. She tried to retain a modicum of poise, keeping a level, challenging gaze upon Jason as she worked. He stood, smirking slightly, enjoying the show, trying not to draw attention to his bulging crotch.
‘You ever seen a strip show?’ he asked her as she began folding the shirt with fussy precision. ‘They don’t fold their gear up. Just put the bloody thing down and get on.’
‘I’ve never seen a strip show,’ she said, feeling a little prick of absurd pain at having to discard the shirt unfolded. ‘It’s not really my kind of thing.’
‘I thought LA was full of sleaze. City of Vice and all that.’
‘Not my LA. I didn’t hang around Sunset Strip much.’
She unzipped her skirt, giving Jason an annoyed glare. Why would he expect her to have watched strippers? Did he think she’d spent her evenings snorting coke off hundred dollar bills in high end brothels? Nothing of the sort. She’d spent most of them on the phone, toying with freshly-delivered macrobiotic carb-free food in cartons. Wondering where Deano was.
The memory of all that loneliness washed over her as her skirt slithered down her stockinged legs.
Immediately Jason made a lunge for her, hooking the backs of her knees so that she tumbled on top of him, knocking scatter cushions everywhere.
‘Can’t resist a pair of stockings,’ he growled. ‘You put those on to get this, didn’t you?’
‘What if I did?’ she said, straddling his hips, trying her best to pin him down although it proved impossible.
‘All through that meal,’ he said, ‘you were thinking about getting me alone afterwards. I know you. I know what you’re like. Sex mad.’
She giggled, bending her face to his ear to purr into it. ‘Pot, meet kettle.’
He had her flipped over on to her stomach in an instant, and he crouched over her with his hands on her shoulders.
‘Yeah, well, if you don’t want me to be sex mad, you shouldn’t be so damn sexy, should you?’ he accused.
‘I can’t help it,’ she spluttered, his weight on her back forcing the breath from her lungs.
‘You do it on purpose.’
He braced an arm beneath her ribcage and pulled her up on to all fours. At least she could breathe again, but somehow her lungs didn’t want to do it properly. And who cared what her lungs were up to when her stomach was fluttering like a butterfly farm? Not to mention the hot, soaked condition of her knickers.
‘What do you want me to do about it?’ she asked, hoping the answer would involve the rapid conjunction of intimate body parts.
‘Absolutely nothing,’ he purred, ripping down her knickers.
And with that, he was inside her. No ceremony, no sweet talk, no stroking and feathering, just the quick, hot connection they both craved.
She didn’t know when or how he had shucked down his trousers and pants, but somewhere in those few panting, wanting moments between falling on the couch and getting nailed, he had managed.
What a talent, she thought, her head swimming with the delicious dirtiness of what he did to her. Well spotted, Jenna.
Now his hand was on her neck, holding her in position so he could thrust hard without fear of her collapsing forward.
She surrendered to everything: his control, her own desire for it, the primitive urgency of the coupling, letting herself fall into it and forget all else.
He let go of her neck and instead grabbed a ponytail of hair, wrapping it tight about his fist. She pushed her hips back, signalling how much she loved what he did to her, raising her bottom to him.
He smacked it, hard, but not too hard to break her intense focus on taking pleasure from her submission.