This Man (This Man 1)
‘Watch your mouth!’ he yells, his eyes still closed in concentration. It’s killing him.
‘Fuck off, Jesse!’
His eyes fly back open in warning at my crass words, but I couldn’t give a damn. I clamp my hands over his and use my leg muscles to lift myself again, hovering above him and crashing down so he completely spears me.
I lift again. ‘Now!’ I cry, smashing back down. My body explodes, sending me soaring right into orbit. I’m vaguely aware of Jesse’s strangled moans as I feel hot moisture invade me, warming my entire being. I collapse onto his chest in an exhausted heap – job done.
I lay sprawled across him, melting into the rhythm of his fingers circling my back, his semi-erection drumming steadily inside me. Our heartbeats are clashing together between our chests as we try to regulate our breathing. We’re both totally replete.
‘I love sleepy sex with you. ’ I murmur.
He kisses the top of my head. ‘Except for your filthy mouth. ’ His voice is full of scorn.
I laugh and look up at him, reaching to run my fingers down his stubbly cheek. I love his stubble. He turns his face into my touch, kissing my fingers and returning my smile.
‘I don’t think we can call that sleepy sex, baby. ’
Author: Jodi Ellen Malpas
‘No?’
‘No. We’ll think of a new name for that one. ’
‘Okay. ’ I agree, completely contented. I rest my cheek back onto his chest and trace small circles around his golden nipple. ‘How old are you, Jesse?’
‘Twenty nine,’
I scoff, but it occurs to me, very suddenly, that I won’t have a clue when we finally reach his real age. I’m plumping for thirty four. That’s eight years past me – I can live with that.
I sigh. ‘What’s the time?’ I could do with another hour.
He shifts me from his chest. ‘I left my watch downstairs. I’ll go take a look. ’
‘You need a clock in here. ’ I grumble as he gets out of bed, leaving me cold and bare without him.
‘I’ll put in a complaint to the designer. ’ he replies dryly.
I ignore him, turning over to snuggle down, making do with the pillow. This bed is the most comfortable I’ve ever slept in. I did well here.
‘Seven thirty. ’ I hear him shout from downstairs.
I bolt upright in bed. ‘Shit!’ I jump out and race downstairs to the kitchen. ‘You’ll have to drop me at home. ’
He sits, dead cool and casual on the bar stool, completely bare arsed naked, scooping peanut butter from a jar with his finger. ‘I’m a bit busy this morning. ’ he says without looking at me.
Oh, the irritating pig! This is, without a doubt, a ploy to keep me here. After all, he did say I wouldn’t be walking, and I am. I’ll get the tube, it’s no bother. I scan the floor where I dropped my clothes – no clothes.
‘Where are my clothes, Jesse?’
He sticks his peanut butter covered finger into his mouth, sucking it off and pulling it slowly from his mouth on a little pop. ‘I’ve no idea. ’ he says, completely straight faced and unaffected.
Where has he hid them, the little shit? They can’t be far. I stalk around his apartment, huffing and puffing, pulling open cupboard doors and looking behind furniture. I march back into the kitchen, finding him still sitting there, looking infuriatingly naked and handsome, and completely unaffected by my frenzy.
Oh, I’ve not got time for this. I can’t be late for work. ‘Where are my fucking clothes?’ I shout.
‘Watch your fucking mouth!’
I shake my head at him. He’ll have a bar of soap in my mouth next. ‘Jesse, I never swore out loud before I met you…funny, huh? I need to get home so I can get ready for work. ’