Chapter 9 – Jensen
Catalina suggested we go to my hotel room instead of hers, which is interesting as hell because I’m the one staying in the block of rooms with the rest of the riders.
The staff rooms are on the other side of the building.
Maybe that’s why she chose mine. Maybe she doesn’t want anyone seeing her bring me back to her room.
Or maybe she just likes having the option to walk away whenever she wants.
Either way, my pulse hasn’t settled since she agreed to come upstairs with me, and I’m not sure it ever will. I still can’t believe she said yes. That she’s here. In my space. Giving me her time and attention.
She looks looser standing in the warm golden light of my hotel room.
There’s a faint flush softening the angles of her face from the two drinks she didn't need but had anyway.
I counted her drinks to make sure she wouldn't be drunk for this.
But even if she isn't, I'll put a stop to it the second I think the alcohol is affecting her judgment.
I may be a lot of things to Catalina, but I never want to be a regret.
“You’re not drunk, right?” I ask. The last thing I want is to take advantage of her. If we’re doing this, I want her to want it.
She throws one of those scorching, warning glares at me while she scans my room. “No. There was hardly any alcohol in those drinks, and I'd never be that reckless.”
I give a nod. “Had to check. Didn’t think you’d willingly come up here with me, that’s all.”
“Maybe stop talking before I change my mind.”
I grin. I love it when she's mean.
I step up behind her, not touching yet, but close enough that she knows I'm there and waiting for her.
It's close enough to smell her sweet scent.
The lotion she probably carefully rubbed into her skin before coming to dinner tonight.
The dab of perfume on her neck that she placed strategically to make a man go wild.
She smells so damn good. I bet she tastes even better. It feels like I might have permission to touch her now, but my hands still twitch at my sides like I’m not sure I deserve it. I don't want to make assumptions with Catalina. She’s going to have to spell it out clearly for me.
No woman has ever intimidated me this way.
Catalina terrifies me in a way that I'm not used to.
She feels completely unattainable. So far out of my league our paths should have never crossed outside of the OR.
I wonder if she'll be able to feel just how grateful I am to be in her presence again once her pussy’s pressed to my face. Once I lick her until she comes.
She turns and looks up at me, eyes flicking briefly to the bed.
“So, how do we do this?”
My thumb drags across my bottom lip as heat surges down low. I’m already painfully aware of how hard I am in my jeans.
“You ever had a one-night stand before?”
“No.” There’s no embarrassment in her response. Just pure honesty. She told me she doesn’t like lying, and I believe her. “If you must know, the only person I’ve ever had sex with was my ex.”
I pause. “What?”
She shrugs like it’s an old fact she no longer cares about.
“I'm not a prude. I just haven't had the opportunity or desire to go out and have casual sex since we separated. June signed me up for that dating app tonight at dinner, so I guess I should figure out how casual sex works. Might as well start learning tonight.”
Then she reaches for the hem of that warm, crimson-colored shirt—the color of blood, the color of firelight, the exact color I imagine my heart would be if she cracked my chest open again—and tugs it off before tossing it to the ground.
And holy hell.
Smooth skin, rich as hazelnut toffee, and a bright red lace bra barely containing the full swell of her breasts and her light brown nipples.
“Wait—” The word escapes me before I can catch it. My brain short-circuits. “Why are you wearing that?”
She glances down at herself. “I like to wear lingerie under my work clothes. It just makes me feel better. I don’t know why. Oh,” she brightens a little. “There's another secret that only you and one other man know.”
I think my heart flatlines for a full five seconds. We should have stolen the defibrillator from the bar because I’m going to need it after sex with Catalina.
A small part of me is wildly jealous that her ex knows she wears lingerie around like a secret. That he didn't take better advantage of the fact that she walks around wearing that underneath her regular clothing just waiting to be bent over the nearest chair and fucked properly.
Fuck that guy. Don’t know him, but I know he sucks.
She has no idea what she looks like to me.
How irresistible she is. That’s the thing about Catalina: she hides everything except the things she thinks don’t matter.
She doesn’t lie. She doesn’t embellish. She just…
exists without embarrassment or shame. And she shouldn't be ashamed. I mean, fuck, look at her. She’s smart and sexy. It’s a lethal combination.
She moves to undo her jeans. “Okay, well—”
“Whoa,” I blurt, stepping forward. “Slow down for me. Let me do it.”
She stops and looks at me like she’s confused. “Why? I can undress myself.”
My voice dips on a chuckle. “I know what you're capable of, but I want to. I want to savor this.”
She blinks up at me—wide brown eyes, unguarded for once. She’s never had a man take his time with her. I can tell. She's rushing too fast to the finish. That realization motivates me to slow this down even more.
I gently undo my shoulder sling, pull my arm out and stretch my fingers a few times.
“Jensen…” she says softly.
I shake my head. “It’s fine. Let me do this.”
She watches me with cautious eyes as I remove the sling completely and toss it aside.
Then I wrap my fingers around the button of her jeans and pop it open, easing the zipper down slow enough to feel her breath hitch.
Her full breasts brush my chest with the lace fabric.
They’re heavy and warm. Her lips part in surprise with each pass of my fingers against the top of her pelvis.
There’s a tiny tremble in her exhale and I can see she's getting wrapped up in her head.
I sink to my knees as I tug her jeans down, helping her step out of them carefully, one foot at a time. When I rise again, she’s standing there in a matching bra and panty set—red lace against brown skin—so damn gorgeous I have to swallow her name before it comes out like a prayer.
I didn’t expect this.
I didn’t expect her.
I don't know what I was expecting getting her to come upstairs to my room. But it sure as hell wasn't all this.
“Lay back on the bed for me,” I say roughly.
She moves backward cautiously, lowering herself slowly, her eyes never leaving mine. She scoots toward the middle until her legs are dangling off the edge, slightly parted, like an unspoken invitation.
I stand at the foot of the bed, drinking her in for a long moment before leaning forward. My knuckles graze over the lace that’s covering her pussy. She flinches with the contact.
I look up at her. "Was that alright?"
She nods. “I just... wasn't expecting it."
I press her thighs apart a little wider, then tug the fabric gently to the side to expose her pussy. Gorgeous.
Her breathing changes again. It's deeper now, like she's not getting enough oxygen.
"You still good?" I ask.
She nods. "Yep. Just fine."
I smile at the way her body flushes at my gaze.
“So,” she whispers, vulnerability ghosting across her face for the first time. “You know I’m experienced, but… not that experienced.”
“Just let me take care of you and you don't worry about experience levels.”
She nods once, a tiny, trusting movement.
I look between her legs again, and smile.
The prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen. Of course it is.
Everything on Catalina is beautiful. And all I can think about is how a man could have all this woman, brains, wit, and beauty, and manage to lose it so foolishly.
Don't know the guy, but I know he wasn't enjoying her right.
I lower my mouth and lick her, tasting her for the first time.
Warm. Sweet. A whole lot addictive. I do it again—another lick, deeper, slower—letting the taste of her sit heavy on my tongue.
My tongue drags up to her clit where I press it firmly then circle the bud a few times just to see how she likes that. She’s intoxicating.
My tongue spikes into her opening and my nose nudges her clit. Her legs tremble like she can't control them, and then they firmly press on either side of my head, closing me in.
“Lift up a little for me,” I say softly.
She lifts, and I slide her panties off, tossing them somewhere behind me. She’s naked from the waist down now, and it’s a sight that I know I won’t forget. Feel like I'm looking at my whole world. A woman. A smart as hell one. And she's giving me a night with her. Don’t know how I got this lucky.
“Perfect,” I whisper.
I part her with my fingers, sliding one inside her. She clenches around me instantly. I lean in, circling her clit with my tongue again, working her slowly, steadily until I feel her stop clenching and she finally drops her knees open wider, relaxing for me with each lick and suck.
“Tell me if I’m being too rough,” I murmur against her pussy.
She told me once that she doesn't like having her hand shaken too firmly, and those words have replayed in my head ever since.
Because I don't want to be rough with Catalina.
I want to be gentle with her. I don't know how much she'll let me get away with tonight, but I'll take whatever she's willing to give me.
And I sure as hell don't want to hurt her in the process.
I take my time, cataloging every sound, every breath, every twitch of her hips. When I nudge her clit with the tip of my tongue and curl my fingers a little deeper to rub, her breathing picks up shakily.
“Too much?” I ask quietly as I ease a second finger inside her, her walls squeezing around me like a vice.