Diamond (Diamond Trilogy 1)

‘Well, something you can dip then,’ she said with a giggle. ‘Maybe a crudité.’

‘I’ll take your word for it.’

‘Celery. Or cucumber.’

‘You’re making me hungry. Get to it.’

As invitations go, it might not have been the most romantic, but Jenna needed no further encouragement. She unscrewed the cap and scooped up some of the sweet viscous substance on to a finger. She stroked it on to his twitching erection, slowly and smoothly, as if plastering a wall, until it bore a sheeny, lemon-smelling coat of the stuff.

Then she cupped his sacs in one hand and wrapped her lips around his shaft.

Oh, lemon curd was more delicious than she remembered. She lapped and sucked it with such hunger that she barely noticed each inch of him, slipping further and further into her mouth. She rarely allowed herself anything sweet and this was a treat of treats. Once it was all licked off, she reapplied it, rather to Jason’s tormented impatience.

He got hold of her hair when she took him back into her mouth, growling that this would be her last helping.

Undaunted, she polished off every last drop of the preserve, until her tongue ached and her jaw was slack, then she sucked extra hard just to make sure no tinge of sugary citrus flavour remained on his tumescent skin.

It was a different kind of taste in her mouth once the lemon curd was all gone – a quick burst of bitter salt, spurted to the back of her throat by the thick length that gagged her.

She swallowed with grace and aplomb, then removed Jason’s softening cock from her mouth and licked her lips like a cat.

‘My compliments to the chef,’ she said, and the pair of them cackled with laughter then kissed and wriggled together on the now-filthy duvet until they were too tired, hungry and sticky to resist the seductive ideas of bath, dinner, bed.

She spent much of the next day trying to get her computer up and running while Jason painted. He declined to help with the technological headache, protesting that ‘me mind’s not built that way’ and she let him off on the grounds that he was an artist.

She had almost forgotten about the restaurant opening, until Lawrence texted her a reminder, and she hurried to compose herself into something that was recognisably the Jenna Diamond they would all know from the TV.

‘Where you going?’ asked Jason, coming down from the attic, with paint all over his face and hair.

‘A restaurant opening thing I was invited to. Honestly, since I’ve arrived here I’ve been plagued with these invitations. Opening here, reception there.’

It was true. Jenna’s PA had been texting her a steady stream of invitations for every event in the Bledburn social calendar, however tiny. She had advised the woman to return polite refusals. This one was her only engagement, and only because Lawrence had personally railroaded her into it. She had come here seeking peace and quiet, and peace and quiet was what she would damn well have.

In between all the detective work, that was. And the sex. So much sex.

Jason, at the bottom of the stairs, made a grab for her in her cocktail dress and costume jewellery.

‘Don’t!’ She put her hands up, laughing but a little alarmed at the prospect of paint on her pristine silk.

‘You look so perfect,’ he said. ‘I want to mess you up.’

‘When I get home,’ she said, looking into a flyblown old mirror on the hall wall, a relic of years past. ‘If you want to wait up, that is.’

‘You aren’t going to be late, are you?’

‘Oh, no. I’ll eat whatever they shove in front of me and leave, I expect. It’s just a photo opportunity for the restaurateur, basically.’

All the same, she was nervous of Jason seeing her get into Lawrence’s car, and silently thanked the previous owners for the high box hedge that hid the house from view of the street.

‘Don’t eat too much garlic,’ he advised.

She tiptoed up to give him a light kiss on his stubbly, white-spirit-smelling cheek.

‘I won’t. See you later.’

Stepping out into a warm summer evening, she wished everything could be different. If only she could be taking Jason as her guest, instead of being Lawrence’s arm-candy. She pictured herself introducing him to everyone as the up-and-coming young artist, he in a smart suit, she in her silk. Or perhaps he ought to dress more hipster-ish. She smiled, imagining Jason faced with a fringed scarf and pair of snakeprint skinny jeans.

/> ‘Fuck off!’