shoulders as he took her in with his surveying gaze. He reached for one of her hands with both of his, and it disappeared, huddled between broad palms and splayed fingers. He pressed tight with his strong hands, massaging the soft skin from her fingertips to her wrist, and she looked up at him, waiting.
‘Well?’ She swallowed, bracing herself for anything.
‘Come – let’s sit.’ Jason led Emma to one of the black leather couches angled across the darkened sales floor. He lifted her, then placed her – as if she were a decorative cushion – at one end. He sat close, running warm fingers through her walnut-brown locks. ‘I love spending time with you, Emma. I love how you make me feel.’ He continued to stroke her hair while stroking her ego. ‘Your eyes, your hair, your sweet personality, and yes, your adorable little figure – I love it all, I … want it all.’
Emma soaked up every word, watching each one pour from his mouth. But was this the hand he was hesitant to show? He’d already professed his desire for her before now. This wasn’t news. She could listen to him talk like this all day, but his so-called “confession” was leaving her feeling a little short-changed. She wished he was stronger, less timid, like Ty , but she understood that perhaps that was something that might only materialise with age.
‘Come live with me, Emma.’ His eyes were locked on hers, and they weren’t going anywhere. ‘You want to get a fresh start, and I want to …’ Jason broke his gaze, his face falling to his chest.
‘I can’t, Jason. Maybe … maybe down the road – who knows? But I’m not sure we’re right for each other – not now.’ Emma’s hands found his hair, and she caressed the soft strands between her fingers. He had it all, she thought. Her mouth watered – her whole body watered – just looking at him. But he was always at her feet, always yielding to her. Sometimes … she just wanted to be taken.
Jason brought his lips to hers, and his tongue bumped against her teeth, begging for entry. Emma let him in, and they kissed softly, quietly. He sat up, and she could see a blazing passion in his eyes she had not seen before.
Without speaking, Jason unbuttoned his shirt – almost as if he was about to do something dirty and he wanted it out of the way. Then, he reached down and, with single-minded focus, began to unbutton hers.
Nonplussed, Emma remained quiet as he worked slowly, diligently. From her neck to her belly a narrow path of skin was now exposed to the shadows – exposed to him. His gaze followed the trail from the button of her pants up to her eyes, and he lingered there, waiting. Emma wasn’t sure what he wanted, or what he was waiting for, but she assumed it was her turn to unbutton, or remove, something.
Jason kept waiting, staring, and smiling, until Emma understood his unspoken request. But she wasn’t about to remove her own blouse. He could do that for her, if he wanted – if he could screw up the nerve. Instead, she stripped him of his teasing, yawning shirt, her hands daring to caress inches of hard flesh along the way. He was naked from the waist up, and she didn’t stop exploring with her hands, or her eyes. Her fingers traced his small, hard nipples and then pressed firmly against the well-defined rise of his chest. His abs were foothills, rippling slowly below the high ground. She clenched her thighs tight, intensifying her pleasure, her wetness. Then he took over.
Jason reached inside Emma’s blouse below her breasts, and, with his hands bracing her back, lifted her, until he could push the top off, and away. She was revealed to him, and he wasted no time lowering his face to her. He had become energised – the blaze of passion now an inferno of lust. He cupped her breasts with strong hands, his thumbs kneading the fleshy bottoms with a measured pulse. His lips planted soft kisses on her firm nipples, and then the kisses became licks, and he