Chapter 9 Jane #2
My orgasm is so close, but just out of reach.
I’m nervous that Darla’s going to catch me with my pants down, quite literally, and it edges on panic when she turns off her playlist and starts packing up her things.
What little bit of noise we’re making—the air rushing in and out through my nose and the wet sound of my pussy—is too loud without the music to drown it out, so Chance switches tactics.
He stops all motion in my pants with the exception of his thumb, but leaves his fingers buried all the way to his last knuckles, and the hand over my mouth moves to wrap around the front of my throat, squeezing on the sides just enough to slow the blood flow.
As the seconds tick by, my orgasm builds, the rubber band in my belly twisting more and more as the edges of my vision start to blur and my body begins to tremble.
He looms over me, his huge frame consuming the tiny space, making me feel powerless and helpless and completely at his mercy… and I love it.
I crave his dominance and the abject humiliation he gives me, like an addict craves his next hit.
Before experiencing sex with Chance, I’d often felt ashamed of what I wanted, of how I wanted to be treated by a partner.
But when Chance has me in hand, I couldn’t care less what’s considered normal. This does it for me. He does it for me.
My face is damp with sweat. I’m so close, so fucking close. The muscles in his jaw are flexing, and his blue eyes are dark with lust. I can’t breathe or think or feel anything beyond the full body orgasm bearing down on me, and I wonder if I’ll actually pass out before I have it.
Darla turns the water on in the sink and lets it run. Chance takes advantage of the few precious seconds and fucks me fast and furious as he whispers a harsh command in my ear. “Come for me, Jane. Now.”
He releases the hold on my throat, and the blood rushes to my head as I finally come with an explosive orgasm like I’ve never felt.
He grabs the back of my head and pulls me into him, so I bite down on the thick cord in his neck to help stifle the scream that wants to escape.
My entire body seizes and shakes at the same time, my pussy and ass convulsing over and over again, squeezing his fingers like a vise.
Darla turns the water off and dries her hands while Chance slowly pumps inside me, helping me ride out the last of my climax. When the restroom door squeals shut, I sag back against the stall and let my head drop back as I try to catch my breath. I whimper as he starts to pull out of me.
“Shhhhhh,” he says with his cheek pressed at my temple, and his warm breath ruffles wisps of my hair. “You did so well, Jane. You were perfect.” I swell with pride. His approval and compliments fill up a part of me untouched by anyone else.
Finally, he pulls back, leaving me feeling empty after he’s no longer inside me. I hate it. Why does this man who’s practically a stranger to me affect me so strongly on so many levels? Will I ever experience these things with someone else, or is he ruining me for—?
All thoughts grind to a halt as I watch him lick the two fingers he’d had buried in my sex with an expression of pure satisfaction on his handsome face. Just when I think he can’t be any sexier…
As soon as he’s done, it’s like a switch goes off and he turns from Hot Sex Chance to All Business Chance.
He zips and buttons my pants, straightens my apron, and then reaches around to grab my phone from my back pocket.
I’m too dazed to ask him what he’s doing, but after a few seconds, his phone starts to ring.
He gets it out and shows me the screen lit up with my number.
“I added myself to your contacts, and now I can add you to mine,” he says, replacing my phone in my pocket. “I’ll give you a call, and we can do this again sometime.”
The reminder of his earlier proposition finally snaps me out of my orgasmic brain fog. “Why me?” I demand coolly. “Did the other nine in your Top Ten list get sick of your assholish post-coitus comments?”
Chance winces the slightest bit and runs a hand over the back of his neck. Color me surprised—it appears he might actually feel guilty. But he doesn’t let it show for more than a few seconds before regaining his unapologetic confidence.
“Okay, I deserve that,” he concedes. “I’m sorry I acted like an asshole. To be honest, I don’t have any kind of list, but sex with you the other night was…good.”
I arch a brow at him because was he even in the same room as me the other night? That’s the lamest adjective I can think of to describe what we did.
A hint of a smile ticks up one side of his mouth. “Fine, it was really good.” Smartass. “Point is, I think we’ve got an opportunity here. Not everyone gets off on the things we do, but you and me, we’re a match in the bedroom, Jane. Why not take advantage of it?”
Dear God, I want to say yes. Especially since I’m still coming down from the incredible orgasm he just gave me.
His offer is so tempting…but not perfect.
“I wouldn’t mind having a casual, sex-only thing, but I’m not interested in being one in a flock of women you fuck, Chance.
Call me old-fashioned, but I like to be at least semi-exclusive with my no-strings-sex. ”
“You drive a hard bargain, Jane.” He narrows his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest. “All right, I’ll agree that while we’re fucking, I won’t fuck anyone else. But then I have a concession of my own.”
This is me, the cat, sniffing around the box clearly marked Curiosity. “Such as?”
“I want you bare.”
Boom. Box explodes. “Bare,” I repeat, swallowing thickly. “As in…”
“As in no condoms.”
Briefly, I fantasize about how it would feel to have his thick length inside of me without a barrier, but I regain my senses before agreeing to anything stupid. “I’m sure that’s not a problem for other women you entertain, but I’m not nearly as careless with my body.”
Bracing a hand on the door above me, he leans in, making my bravado shrink along with the space separating us.
“I’m not careless with anything. I always wear a rubber and get tested regularly.
But if we’re going to be exclusive for this, I don’t see why we shouldn’t take advantage of the situation. Are you on birth control?”
“Yes,” I say slowly, a little ashamed of my rude assumption about his character.
“Good. Then we can trade test results and be done with it,” he says, dipping his head to graze the side of my neck with his teeth.
My breath shudders past my lips, and I have to lock my knees to keep myself standing.
“I’ll be able to take you whenever I want, with nothing in my way. Do we have a deal?”
Let’s see, a safe, exclusive, no-strings arrangement with the sexiest man in the city who indulges my darkest fantasies?
Sign. Me. Up. And yet, I don’t immediately ask him to hand me a pen and point to the dotted line.
This man is too cocky for his own good (no pun intended).
It won’t kill him if I make him sweat a little.
He pulls back to hear my answer. I cant my head, narrow my eyes a bit, and chew thoughtfully on the inside of my cheek.
With each passing second, I see him getting more and more irritated.
He’s probably never had a girl contemplate—fake or not—anything involving him and sex.
Poor thing. Guess I should put him out of his misery. “Deal.”
He holds out his hand, and for a few seconds, I can only stare at it. The formal gesture makes me realize that we’ve never kissed. I wonder if he’s against it a la Pretty Woman, because that would be a damn shame. Hoping that isn’t the case, I put it in the back of my mind and shake his hand.
Chance grips me harder and pulls me in, his other hand smoothing over my ass and cupping my still swollen sex from behind, causing me to shudder with latent aftershocks.
“Fair warning, baby. My sexual appetite is vast, and now you’re all I have to stave off my hunger.
” He crushes his lips to mine, simultaneously banishing all worries of an anti-kissing agenda and revving me up for another round, consequences be damned.
Sucking my bottom lip into his mouth, he gives it a sharp nip, then soothes it with his tongue.
Leaving me reeling, he pulls away and rakes his gaze over me like he’s debating on whether to fuck me properly or walk away. In the end, he chooses the latter.
When the restroom door closes, I unlock my knees and let them buckle. Crouched down with my head in my hands, I take some deep breaths and try to slow my racing pulse as I debate whether I’ve lost my sanity completely or only in the presence of one Chance Danvers.
My phone dings. I anxiously dig it out from my pocket to find a new text message that kicks up the butterflies in my belly all over again.
Welcome to my menu, Jane.