Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX_
JAMIE
I may be faking confidence like a pro—the whole entertainment industry is full of that “fake it until you make it” attitude—but as Angel pulls me inside my hotel room, I’m too nervous and way too into Angel to make the next move. I don’t know where to start.
“Change your mind?” Angel asks with a knowing twitch of her lips.
“Not at all. I’m just … nervous.”
“You don’t need to be. If I do anything you’re uncomfortable with—”
“Oh, I’m not nervous about what you will do. Do whatever you want to me.”
Angel grins. “So you’re nervous about what you’ll do to me?”
“I’m nervous if I’ll do it well.”
She reaches for me, cupping the side of my face. Her touch is soft, but the calluses from years of military training and ops are rough against my skin. “You don’t need to worry about that.”
“Why not?”
“That’s all part of the fun. Figuring each other out. Exploring. Sex is supposed to be fun, Jamie. Not nerve-racking.”
She’s right, I know she is, but I guess … “Is it weird I’ve never really thought about being able to get a guy off? They just usually take what they need.”
Angel screws up her face. “Thank fuck I’m gay.”
She’s making this easier on me by taking the seriousness out of the moment.
“It’s … it’s a lot of pressure. That’s all.”
“Think about how I feel. You might be so disappointed by girl-on-girl action that I ruin you for all other women. I don’t want to force you to have to have sex with men for the rest of your life. I couldn’t live with that kind of guilt.”
I laugh. “Well, when you put it like that.”
“Why don’t we take it one step at a time?”
“O-one step at a time,” I repeat.
But what the fuck is the first step?
I don’t know what I was expecting with a woman like Angel.
Possibly that because she’s on the more masculine side of the coin, she would somehow behave like a man would, but that thought is only reiterating the harmful stereotypes that had my friend tell me once that I’m not queer just because we kissed.
Only I get to decide what label I am, and as I stand across from Angel, nervous as fuck but so ready for more with her, the bisexual label finally feels fitting. Like I’m not some imposter or wannabe.
Should I have needed to experience this with Angel to get to the point where a label felt right? No. But that’s what happens when you listen to others instead of what’s inside.
Angel smiles and takes off her leather jacket. She’s only in a crop top and her tight black pants and boots, but somehow, I think she looks hotter now than if she were to take the rest of her clothes off.
The tattoo down the side of her torso, the way her ring finger, pinky, and thumb don chunky jewelry on each hand, and how her new haircut sits just right, framing one side of her face … she doesn’t need to be naked to be intimidatingly attractive.
She reaches her hand out and pulls me toward her. “Come here.”
I go willingly and let her lead me toward the hotel bed.
“One step at a time,” she reminds me, and then she leans in.
I suck in a sharp breath as she keeps closing the gap between us.
We must be a million miles apart because it takes forever for her lips to find mine.
But when that does inevitably happen, I wrap my arms around her back and hold on while she kisses me senseless.
Literally. Sounds, light, all distractions fade away.
All I can feel is the heat of her skin. All I can taste is the sweetness of her lips.
And when she pushes me down on the bed and climbs on top of me, that feeling of drowning in her only intensifies.
One gentle hand skirts up my neck, while her other hand slips under my skirt and grips my outer thigh.
My hips thrust upward, trying to get her hand higher. My hands tremble, unsure of what to do.
Angel doesn’t hesitate. Her touch is confident. Strong, yet soft.
I want to touch her too, but it’s impossible to know where to start. I could go north, south … anywhere in between. Between is good. Safe. Not intimidating.
Okay, it’s still a little intimidating. I practically punch her in the stomach while trying to make my move.
She breaks from my mouth and lets out a huffy laugh.
“Fuck. Sorry.” This is going so well. Good job, Jamie.
Angel laughs some more, and the sound eases some of the tension in my gut.
She lifts up to rest on her elbows so she can stare down at me. “Still nervous?”
“What gave it away?” I say dryly.
“We’re going slow, remember? You can touch me anywhere you want. You don’t have to rush it.”
Even though I nod, my eyes must give me away.
“Or we can stop right here—”
“No,” I’m quick to say. “But I … and I want …”
“Tell me what you want.”
“Everything. Nothing. To just get over this nervousness. I feel like I’m a virgin again.”
“If you really want to keep going, I can take the lead. Do everything for us.”
Okay, this time, I can tell my eyes widen.
“Don’t worry. I won’t be breaking out the advanced moves. If you enjoy tonight, maybe we can pull those out next time. If there is a next time.”
I definitely want there to be a next time, but maybe I should wait to see if I die of embarrassment from this encounter first. “I want you to take the lead. Touch me.” My voice comes out in a rasp and an octave lower than usual. “Please touch me.”
Instead of doing as I ask, she pulls up completely and stands. My skirt is halfway up my thighs, and I’m sure I’m on full display, but I don’t care, especially as her gaze roams over me while she strips out of her tight black pants, revealing lacy boy short underwear.
My mouth waters, and I want her body heat back on mine.
I don’t have to wait long. She climbs back on top of me, straddling my legs this time.
Both her hands creep their way from my hips up my sides to my shoulders and then down my arms. Shivers tingle my spine. Goose bumps break out on my skin. She interlinks our fingers together and leans down and goes back to kissing me.
I get so lost in her mouth, her tongue, that when she pins my arms above my head, I don’t know how they got there.
My face heats, and my hips do that lifting thing again. I want friction. She still hasn’t touched me where I want her to, and I’m dying.
Angel shifts so she’s pinning my hands with only one of hers now. She’s not gripping tight, but I’m not going to move anyway. Here is good. There’s no pressure on where to put my hands or what to do. From this position, all I have to do is feel.
And the second she gives me what I want, that contact and friction between my legs, I’ve never almost come so fast. Tingles, heat, and all-over want take over.
Her thumb brushes over my clit through my panties, moving over it with such precision I can’t understand how men can’t find it.
I wince at my own thoughts and tell myself to not compare. This isn’t about comparing. This is about experiencing something I should’ve let myself do a long time ago. And so far, it’s ten out of ten. Highly recommend.
I moan into Angel’s mouth, and she takes that as an invitation to take the next step.
She can take the whole staircase for all I care.
Go all the way. Because as she lifts the hem of my panties and slips her fingers inside the material, I gasp, my lips breaking from hers.
She hasn’t even touched me anywhere yet.
She teases me, her thumb still working me over my underwear and her middle finger circling my entrance. I want her to push it inside me.
When she does, all self-consciousness goes out the window. Angel kisses my neck as I throw my head back and writhe beneath her, wanting more.
Her breathing gets heavy, and that’s when my attention draws toward her hips moving as fiercely as mine. While she works me over, she uses that same hand to grind against.
I’m still fully dressed, and I have no fucking clue how she can get me so close so fucking easily. I don’t think I’ve come from someone using their fingers since maybe high school. It’s almost as if once you have full penetrative sex in the hetero world, there’s no going back to the basics.
This might be basic, but holy fucking shit, it’s so extra. It’s so fucking good.
There’s only one more thing I need to send me over the edge.
Her thumb making circles, driving me higher and higher …
I need it just a bit harder. I lift my hips again and hold firm, my ass off the mattress.
My body tightens around her finger, my whole body flushes, and when she adds a second finger inside me, that’s what sets me off.
I let out a string of curses, followed by begging. “Kiss me.” I let out a hard breath. “Kiss me,” I say again. Like it’s the only thing I’m able to say until she does it.
In the next second, I can taste her lips again and feel her tongue in my mouth. My muscles uncoil, and I sink back onto the mattress. She removes her hand from between us and lowers her weight on top of me. All the while, our mouths never separate.
It’s not until I catch my breath and come back down to earth that I realize I don’t know if she found that as explosive as I did.
I pull back. “Wait, did you—”
She smiles. “I had that covered. Don’t you worry.”
“But I should because, I mean, I can’t tell, and … oh my God …” I flop backward into the pillow. “This is how all the guys I’ve been with have felt. How the hell are you supposed to know if there’s no … substance?”
Angel rolls off me, laughing breathlessly. “Substance?”
“I couldn’t think of a less cringey word than cum.”
She glances over at me, smile not leaving her face. “I want you to feel something. Are you okay with me guiding your hand?”
I roll onto my side and reach for her, and as she moves my hand into her underwear, I can feel exactly how turned on that made her. She’s wet, her underwear as well.
“This is what you do to me,” she whispers. Then she presses one of her fingers inside her, along with one of mine.
My heart is in my throat as she guides me. Her body is tight and warm around my finger, and I want to keep going.
So when Angel asks if I’ll be okay to keep going if she removes her hand, all I do is nod and take over.
She tells me what to do. “Deeper.” “Another finger.” “Rub the heel of your hand against my clit.”
This time when she comes, I don’t miss it. It’s impossible to. Her eyes roll back in her head, her lips part, and the husky moan she lets out leaves no doubt in my mind.
I don’t know if I trust that she came the first time, and that’s just something I’m going to have to accept, but this makes me feel a hell of a lot better.
The only question I have left is … “What happens now?”
“I don’t know about you, but orgasms knock me out.”
Orgasms. Plural. Go me!
“I can stay or go back to my room,” Angel says. “Up to you.”
I try not to smile. “What if someone tries to break into my hotel room?”
“Shit. I’d be the worst bodyguard in the world if I wasn’t here for that.”
“Guess that means you have to stay.” And damn, isn’t that a shame.