Free Never Understand Part One ( Johnthen Trent Adult Romance 1) by Miranda Mailer Page B

I have a hint of what he meant by “creative” back there. If I was in any doubt about whether he’d be good in bed, it’s just evaporated. With all that intensity and power, and the fine skills of an artist he’s playing me like one of his musical instruments. I can’t help noticing a healthy erection has sprung up in his trousers, too. Really healthy, by the look of it. Disgracefully, I ache to touch his hardness through the fabric, but I’m too far away. I bite my lip and moan.
    The perfectionist artist in him shows every sign of bringing me to a full body orgasm here on the mezzanine level of the Saul Hankow Gallery. By touching only my feet.
    But fuck it, I know what he’s doing, and there’s nothing artistic about it. It’s a seduction, a play for sex, a play he thinks I won’t be able to resist. Oh my God, he’s right! I won’t resist. Can’t he just sweep me up again, carry me to his car, then to his place, my place, a hotel – anywhere? My panties are wet through, and he’s so close, and my breathing is all over the place. He must be able to see the tops of my legs, and the stockings, even my panties. This is sooo bad. But what do I care? I could be stark naked on this bench for all the difference it makes. He is a bad man. Such a bad, bad man.
    Just take me out of here, give me the one-night stand with this sexual predator and get it done. God knows he’s worked hard enough for it.
    Just then there’s a voice. Back in reality-land. ‘Jana, Jana? Are you up here with that guy, you bad girl?’ Phoebe. On the stairs. And another heavier pair of feet stepping up there behind her. Joshua!

Chapter 10: Battery Park, New York City Tuesday 9 May
    Johnthen has heard the voices before me. He takes my feet, puts them together, and swings my legs out from the bench and down onto the concrete floor. He places my feet neatly by my shoes at the side of the leather bench, as if he were tidying away a pair of shoes. Then he hands me the champagne.
    I look as demure as is possible by the time Phoebe and Joshua make their way over to us. As demure as any girl can look when she shows all the sign of an urgently impending orgasm. Flushed throat, eyes, breathing – and heaven knows what my hair looks like.
    Johnthen answers for me, not for the first time tonight. ‘Jana’s resting her feet. She’s been boring me about Chomsky and what he’s gone through – but I ask you, what did he suffer, compared to Aung San Suu Kyi? Or Mandela?’
    Josh looks blank.
    ‘And what did Aung San Suu Kyi suffer, compared to these shoes?’ I quip. That’s the second time tonight I’ve found the right line with Joshua Lake looming over me. Maybe he’s not such a bad influence after all.
    I’m fast coming out of the orgasmic haze (you would, wouldn’t you?) and it’s just dawning on me how cool it is for Joshua Lake to catch me up here, in possible flagrante , with a hot guy like JT. Josh is looking at JT with a kind of teenage, fuck-you insolence - which Johnthen returns with an almost pitying expression, like the king of the pride to a junior lion, putting him in his place. Alpha male Josh Lake has just been comprehensively out-alpha’d, with no more than a look from Johnthen. JT for all his sophistication is from a very tough background and I’d guess he takes no shit whatsoever from Joshua Lake and his kind.
    Phoebe, for her part, is looking Johnthen up and down with big eyes. She looks like she’s about to take off her pants and throw them at him in homage. It is a joyful situation for me, and let’s face it my life has been very sparse when it comes to joyful situations for some time. Johnthen’s not going to stay around, but it’s worth putting up with the arrogant beast for the look on Phoebe’s face.
    Enjoy it while it lasts; which isn’t long. The spell has been broken for Johnthen Trent and me. After a taster of the steamy, passionate lover deploying his wicked arts upon my body, I see that the natural cool