Chapter 23
CARMEN
“Want to come inside?” I ask Jamie. He’s walked me to my door after dinner.
A dinner that went about as well as possible.
With another person there, someone charming and skilled at drawing my parents into conversations about things other than their own plans for my future, they didn’t have the chance to gang up on me like I’m sure they intended.
Saving me from a potentially disastrous dinner with my parents and giving me the best orgasm I’ve had in a long, long time. Jamie’s acquitting himself well today.
“Sure,” he answers.
I’m game-planning how I’m going to drop my proposition on him as we step inside.
Even if I didn’t have the idea of using him to get over my writer’s block, at this point, I’d be eager to find out if his mouth is as skilled at other things as it is at kissing. If his finger isn’t the only thing that he can push between my legs and make me fall apart.
But I still definitely have that idea. And while it seemed far-fetched at first, ever since Jamie left earlier this afternoon after using my bathroom sink to wash the cum out of his pants, I’ve felt less tense and blocked about my writing than I have in a long time.
I’m actually eager to get back in front of my computer tomorrow. My fingers feel the urge to dance around my keyboard like they used to.
Jamie’s tongue in my mouth, his hand on my pussy, his muscled body pressed against me on my bed, and the knowledge that he was so viscerally into it that he blew a load in his boxers, all made me feel a rush of erotic thrill like I’ve never experienced before.
I’m eager to use my own sensations as fuel to bring the scene I have in mind to life.
I’m also eager to hear the kind of sounds Jamie made into my mouth when my tongue slanted against his again.
We shuck off our jackets inside my warm apartment. Even though Jamie’s an uncanny natural with his mouth and his hands, he’s still a virgin. I probably shouldn’t spring my indecent proposal on him right away.
“Thanks again, Jamie. That dinner was way less torturous than it would have been without you there.”
“I’m happy to help facilitate the détente between you guys.”
Laughter pushes out of me. “Reading the dictionary lately?”
“Despite my reputation, I’m not just a dumb jock.”
He wears an amused grin, so I don’t feel the need to reassure him that that was never my opinion of him. He knows it isn’t, and he knows that isn’t really his reputation.
“Are you much of a reader?” I ask, to make conversation.
“I haven’t been for a while, sadly. Just so busy with hockey. I mean, that doesn’t stop my teammate Sebastian, but I’m not the natural bookworm he is. But I have read some books recently.”
“Really? Which ones?” I ask with genuine interest.
“I’ve read a couple Agatha Christie books, actually.” His grin turns a touch bashful. “Hearing you talk about your book put me in the mood for mysteries.”
A warm feeling flickers behind my chest. But there’s a touch of concern that comes along with it. If Jamie keeps saying things like that, with that kind of look on his face, it might get less easy than I’d planned to keep myself from developing feelings.
I cast those worries aside, though. I’m not that kind of girl, no matter how cute some of the things that come out of Jamie’s mouth are.
Besides, it’ll be easier to keep my emotions compartmentalized once my proposal shifts our relationship to something more … business-like.
I better come out with it now, because there’s certainly nothing business-like about the way Jamie’s looking at me. It’s probably not wise for me to get too used to it.
“You really helped me out tonight, Jamie,” I begin. “What if there was something I could help you with in return?”
His eyebrow hitches. “What do you mean?”
“The other night, at your party. You were saying you were anxious about your lack of experience. Sexually.”
Jamie rolls his lips. An unsure expression sits on his face. “Uh, yeah?”
“That’s what I can help you with. We can help each other.
The reason I’ve been stuck on my book is because I need to write some sexually charged scenes, and I haven’t been able to get myself into that mood.
I think if we sleep together, we could both benefit.
You could learn what to do in bed. I could get into a better mindset for writing those scenes.
” Now that I’m outlining my rationale out loud, it feels absurd.
So, I tack on another motivation that’s a little less abstract.
“Plus, I’m pretty sure we’d both enjoy ourselves. ”
Jamie’s expression had been flat and unreadable as I rambled on. But at that last sentence, something flares in his eyes. Something that tells me doesn’t disagree in the least bit, at least on that point.
“A mutually beneficial arrangement,” I conclude, making sure to ground this proposal in unsentimental language.
“Arrangement.” Jamie takes a step closer, repeating my word. It’s clear he doesn’t like the sound of it in his mouth. But it’s also clear from his eyes that not everything I said was distasteful to him.
“Right,” I answer. “Not a relationship.”
The sides of Jamie’s lips tug down a fraction. I know that a relationship is what he wants. But it’s not something I feel like I have the space for right now.
I definitely want to fuck him, though. I won’t lie to myself about that.
And this proposal accomplishes everything: we get to enjoy ourselves, he gets to learn his way around a woman’s body, I get inspiration for writing my book, and the terms of the arrangement make it clear to Jamie that he shouldn’t let himself get too attached.
“So, what, then?” Jamie asks. “We schedule it like a series of doctor’s appointments? Wednesday at two-thirty to eat your pussy?”
Liquid heat rolls through my core. Jamie talking about eating me out while his smoldering gaze holds mine almost makes me think I’m a fool for imagining that I can keep my feelings on a leash.
But I have to trust that I can. My book depends on it.
Right, it’s all in the service of literature. Nothing to do with the fact that you’re hornier than a cat in heat after finding out what Jamie can do with his mouth and fingers.
Shut up, brain.
“Well, doctor’s appointments aren’t exactly the vibe I had in mind.”
“We can keep hanging out together while we’re doing this?”
“I don’t see why not.” Besides, making this some sterile, bureaucratic affair wouldn’t really be conducive to the kind of mood I want to get in my writing.
“But it’s still not a relationship,” Jamie says, skeptically. “Just us hanging out and fucking.”
The bluntness of his words brings a blush to my cheeks. “Two people hanging out and fucking while very much not being in a relationship is something that’s been known to happen.”
Not to Jamie, though. And that’s a conscious decision on his end. His face tells me he’s mulling this over in his mind, and I start to worry that he’s going to say no, when …
“Alright,” he pronounces.
Excitement dances along my nerves. “I think we’ll both find this … mutually advantageous.”
I reach for the most insipid and unsexy words I can find to sprinkle some cold water on my emotions. To remind myself that I can’t let this whole thing get too personal. But Jamie’s looking at me like he sees right through that tactic.
He takes another step closer. Soon we’ll be even closer than this, without a sheet of paper’s distance between our bodies. And we’ll be naked. There’s not a phrase unsexy enough in the English language to douse the flames that curl through me at that thought.
“I have two away games over the weekend,” Jamie says. “But I’m free Monday. Let’s hang out after classes, and then we can have our first … session.”
That word shouldn’t sound so salacious.
“Sounds good. But remember, it’s not a date.”
Jamie’s mouth slants. “Of course not.”
“I mean it.”
I’m not sure which one of us I’m really trying to convince.