Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
“For years after you’d gone, my one regret is that we never got to … you know, that we didn’t ...” I nodded at the apex of her thighs. It was true, she hadn’t ready for more, and I had been that typical teenage boy, instantly hard at the merest suggestion of anything remotely sexual.
Jolie for all her forward talk, drew in a sharp breath and caught it in her throat. She coughed, chuckled and finally looked me dead in the eyes.
“Jesus, Louis I was too young … and you’d only likely have disappointed me. I mean check you out now. You’re half a body thicker than you were back then, and those bulging biceps look like you’d break me in half these days.”
“Not necessarily,” I said, smiling. “It’s true that I like to play rough sometimes, but I can be gentle when the occasion demands that too. I’m a man who aims to please,” I argued, flirtatiously.
“Oh, I don’t doubt it for a minute,” she dragged out, her voice thickening seductively. “Back then you were pencil skinny, and apart from a two-minute fuck with Audrey Gillingham that I believe left her wanting, I never heard your skills in bed being talked about—not like they are now.”
“And what about now? Would you like to take me for a spin?” I joked, laughing.
Jolie’s head whipped back, arching her back and her more than ample cleavage strained the buttons on her shirt. It was the most natural, sexiest move I’d seen in a while, and damn did she turn me on.
Passion instantly burned in Jolie’s lust-tinted eyes, and I felt a rush from the sexual connection we shared. A bead of pre-cum coated my boxer briefs. “Or you’d like to take me for one,” she challenged.
“Perhaps this conversation should be saved for somewhere more private,” I suggested, suddenly needing to know her better again.
“At this point, I’d ask if you wanted to get out of here, but we have nowhere to go and you’re still working,” I muttered as I held her intense gaze, and noted how dilated with lust her huge pupils were.
She shook her head. “Finished about fifteen minutes ago, and Clay keeps a room in here for his staff for occasions just like that whiteout on the mountain.”
“Did you just invite me up to your room?”
“Depends, if you can tell me you’re carrying condoms and you’re good for a bottle of bourbon,” she replied.
“Always carry condoms and I love a woman that knows what she wants and knows the recipe for fun,” I answered, but my head warned me to slow things down. Did I want a quick fuck with Jolie or did she mean more to me than that.
My rational side told me it is what it is, but felt as if it played a different beat to the one I usually had when I was about to get lucky with someone.
I sat in silence while Jolie came back with a bottle of cheap Wild Turkey Whiskey in her hand and a wide smile on her beautiful lips.
My eyes darted to Clay who looked pissed that I’d scored with Jolie, and I figured he had a soft spot for her himself.
“Let’s go,” Jolie instructed cocking her head toward a door to the side of the bar. “Night, Clay. Don’t knock on my door too early, I don’t start until 2:00 p.m. tomorrow.”
The staff’s occasional sleeping quarters was a homey, warm and comfortable room. The old brass bed draped in a blood-red comforter had a traditional patchwork quilt folded at the bottom as well. A real wood fire burned in the grate and apart from a sink in the corner, the rest of the room was bare.
“So …” Jolie mumbled a lot less forward than she had been downstairs as she untied the knot in her flannel shirt and let it hang open. Beneath it she was braless, save for a tiny, white cropped tank top that drew my eyes to her incredible tits like a fly to shit in one-hundred-degree heat.
“I’m not the only one whose body has changed,” I told her, nodding toward her chest.
“Oh, yeah, late bloomer here, went to bed one night just after we moved to Wyoming and woke up with the girls in my pajama tank top a month or two later.”
“I wouldn’t mind waking up with the girls,” I admitted, smiling.
“Yeah, but they look far better on me than they would on you,” she teased, cupping one in each hand over her top.
“Ah, but I bet they’d feel better in my hands right now than in yours.”
“Funny, I never realized how competitive you were before.”
“The stakes have been raised since then … like you said, you never had tits to write home about before.”