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Authors: Sofia Grey

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BOOK: Pole Position
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8.3 Jon

Anita drove, and I directed her through the darkened lanes, making a stop at a late-night pharmacy along the way. I left her in the car while I bought condoms, and massage oil, choosing one that doubled as a personal lubricant. I wanted to make this as special and as easy for her as possible. Her sudden change of mind had taken me aback. Only yesterday, she imagined I was some kind of monster. There was every chance she’d change her mind when we got down to it, but I wanted to be prepared.

We parked next to my ‘Vette. Anita switched off the lights, killed the engine, and then took a deep breath. I figured she felt nervous, and was probably regretting her earlier bravado.

“Come here,” I pulled her to me. “Remember, we only do what you’re happy with. No more than that. I promise.”

Some privacy would be good. I looked around, but there was no sign of Dad’s car, or Mrs. Pearce’s either. Dad had mentioned a party. “Let’s just stay here a moment.” I grabbed my mobile phone, and sent Dad a text.

Where R U?

Moments later, he replied.
At party with Paul n Carol, back late. Want to join us?

I replied.
No thx, am home. Early night. Where is Mrs. P?

Dad came back immediately.
Gone to see her sister, back tomorrow. Mum says plenty of food in fridge. See you in the morning.

I showed the messages to Anita. She gazed up at me, her eyes huge in the darkness. “Does this mean we have the house to ourselves?”

“It does, for the next three or four hours at least. You okay with that?”

She gave a little nod. “I trust you, Jon. Let’s go in.”

As soon as she was out of the car, I scooped her in my arms, and carried her along the path. I pretended to stagger under the weight, and she laughed at my fooling about, insisting I put her back on the ground.

Grabbing her hand, I led her into the kitchen to get some drinks. Flipping the light switch, she turned to me and gasped in horror.

“What?”

“Oh Jon.” She was aghast. “Your face. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

I peered into the small mirror on the wall.
Shit
. It didn’t look good. It was just as well Mum wasn’t here to see this. Heaven knew what they thought in the pharmacy. My phone beeped again, and I swiped the screen to find another text from Dad.
Don’t forget, we go to London tomorrow to meet Palmers. Talk in the morning.

“Damn.” I’d forgotten about that.

Anita peeped over my shoulder. “Palmers? Who are they?”

“It’s a piece of work Dad’s trying to develop. This is my day job so I need to go.” I saw the disappointment on her face. “We’ll be there a few days, but I think we’re due back at the weekend.”

She nodded and glanced away, then looked back at me with a shy smile. “I guess we’d better make the most of tonight then.”

9.1 Jon

My bedroom, complete with large en-suite bathroom, was at the other end of the house from my parents’, and I left Anita prowling round while I ran a bath. I dug out some candles to soften the lighting, and then I called her in to join me.

Her anxiety was tangible, and I saw fear in her big, dark eyes. No matter how much I wanted her, I had to take it slowly or I’d lose her forever.
Christ.
This was going to be difficult.

While I collected towels and grabbed a bottle of wine and some glasses, she undressed and slipped into the water. I’d added a generous amount of bubbles and they covered her completely. I sat on the side of the bath in my boxers a few minutes later, and examined the angry bruises on my shins. Anita watched me, silent as I fingered another bruise on my ribs. That bastard had done some damage. I remembered his furious face just inches from mine as he tried to punch me. I’d done the best I could to avoid his blows; I just hoped I managed to land a few of my own.

I turned my back while I dropped my boxers then slipped quickly into the bath. I didn’t fancy sitting at the tap end so I coaxed her into making room for me and we ended up sitting together, with Anita nestled between my legs, her back resting against my chest. She was tense as a coiled spring.

Covering the sponge with scented foam, I stroked it across her shoulders, smoothing away the trail of bubbles with my hand. Her skin felt like satin. Golden, unblemished, and soft, she could have been an angel fallen to earth.

“Should I wash your hair?” I murmured into her ear, taking the opportunity to kiss her neck.

“No, it’s fine.” She sounded breathless.

I raised her left arm and washed it from shoulder to wrist, my lips following. Her right arm came next, and this time, I twisted her hair into a loose knot for her to hold out of the way. I sponged her side, sliding forward to stroke over her stomach and swirl up to her breasts. Her breath hitched.

Encouraged, I wrapped my left arm around her waist and gently, an inch at a time, followed her curves with the sponge. Some of the stiffness left her spine, and she relaxed against me, a hum of approval escaping her lips. She couldn’t have missed the way my cock was pressed up against her. No matter how hard I tried to will away my raging hard-on, it refused to subside.

Her nipples were delightfully firm, two little buds that reacted quickly to my exploring fingers. Brushing them with my thumbs drew a soft moan, and I played with them some more, drawing out the pleasure. I’d make this good for her, no matter what.

We stayed in the bath until the water cooled. Tying a small towel around my waist first, I held a huge towel to wrap around her. I guessed she still felt uneasy. “Relax, sweetheart.” I brushed a kiss across her bare shoulder. “We have all night, there’s no hurry.”

Back in the bedroom, I’d left more candles burning, and spread another giant towel over the bedclothes. I led her by the hand and squeezed her fingers. “Hop on the bed, and lie down on your stomach.” I lifted the bottle of massage oil. “I’m going to give you a back rub. And maybe a front rub too, if you’re very well behaved.” I winked at her.

She huffed a laugh, her cheeks pinking, and I swept a tendril of damp hair behind her ear.

“We only do what you’re happy with.”

I held my breath. Did Anita trust me? She hesitated a moment, then dropped the towel and climbed onto the bed. Lying there on her stomach in the flickering candlelight, her neat, golden bottom on show, she looked exquisite.

If I got this right, it’d be a huge turning point in her life, and our relationship. I had the power to make her happy. It was an awesome responsibility.

9.2 Anita

Why had I been so scared? I already knew it would be different with Jon. What worried me now, was not so much the fear of him hurting me—I trusted he would be gentler than Rob—but the fear of being unable to respond. The label of
frigid
was a hard one to shake off. Would he be disappointed with me?

Bathing together had been delicious. Jon had nuzzled the back of my neck, one hand idly playing with my nipples, and it’d been like a series of electric shocks arcing through me. My breasts ached for his touch, and I felt a strange pressure between my legs; a heat I’d never known before. When he pulled me out of the bath I’d been bereft of his touch, but now, lying facedown on the bed while he rubbed scented oil into my skin, I was in heaven. Feeling daring, I rolled over.

He made a growling noise deep in his throat, but his lips were curving when he leaned down to kiss me. “Naughty. I haven’t even nearly finished yet.”

He smoothed warm hands over me in a sensuous caress, the oil gliding over my skin. My heart fluttered, and my pulse raced. Was it me, or was it hot in here? Everywhere he stroked, tingles of pleasure danced in his wake. Brushing his thumbs across my nipples, he teased me, touching and then retreating.

The heat between my legs intensified, and I squirmed. I wanted something. I just didn’t know what. Every time I tried to touch him, Jon made a tutting noise and placed my hands back on the bed.

“Let me make it good for you,” he whispered.

When it felt as though I would combust if he didn’t kiss me
right then
, he lay down next to me and poured some of the oil into the palm of his hand. Finally, he moved his hand between my legs. His fingers were slippery and he explored with lazy circles, his touch ghosting across my burning flesh. I shifted to give him easier access.

He closed his mouth over one breast, and I nearly bucked him off the bed. Moist heat surrounded my throbbing nipple, and he sucked the tender flesh while he lapped and swirled with his tongue.

Oh. God. I’d never felt this before, never been this aroused, ever. I couldn’t keep my hands still. I raked them through his hair, trying to hold his head in place. I never wanted him to stop.

I’d been so intent on his clever mouth, I failed to notice where he was going with his fingers. They glided easily over my heated flesh, and he slid one finger inside me, while brushing his thumb across my clit. It felt like a huge spring tightening. I moaned, unable to stay quiet. I arched my back, uncertain about the feeling of intense pressure, not knowing how to react.

Jon lifted his head. “You like that?” His whisper skated over my skin.

I whimpered. He licked my nipple, and I found my voice. “Yes, yes, please. Don’t stop.”

“You feel wonderful, sweetheart.” He moved his fingers faster, sliding into me, teasing at my sensitive button, and driving me to the edge of an abyss. I teetered there for a second, and then crashed over the edge, wave after wave of pleasure pounding through me. I cried out, and clutched at Jon as I slowly came down to earth. I was bathed in perspiration, and my breathing was erratic. My heart beat with a new rhythm.

I dragged in a breath, and shuddered at another aftershock that rumbled through me. I couldn’t take my eyes off Jon. I tried to tell him how amazing that was, but I couldn’t form the right words. I might even have been drooling.

I swiped a hand over my mouth and sought my voice. “I think. I
know
. God.” I gave up trying to voice my thoughts when he claimed my lips in a hungry kiss.

He’d kept a towel around his waist. I hadn’t seen him yet in the flesh, but I was more confident. It might not be that bad.

Jon kissed me, slow and relaxed, as though we had all the time in the world, but I didn’t want to wait any longer. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I dropped my head back, thrilled at the feel of his mouth on my throat. I ached for him.

I was ready.

When he slipped an oiled finger over my clit again, I opened my legs wider. “Now,” I whispered, my voice deserting me.

“You’re so wet, baby. So beautiful.”

He pulled back long enough to fit a condom, and I kept my gaze on his face. A flush lined his cheeks, and his pupils were dilated. Just looking at him made my pulse clatter. When he smiled, it took my breath away.

“Tell me if you want me to stop.” Jon’s voice was strained. He eased in, fraction by fraction, gliding as easily as his fingers had, but filling me oh-so-full.

I gazed into Jon’s hooded eyes. He was totally focused on me. On giving me pleasure.

“You okay?” His voice rasped, the roughness exciting. He inched deeper when I nodded. It didn’t hurt.
Nothing
hurt.

I tilted my head and claimed his lips, unable to speak. There were no words for this. Every movement blurred into the last. Every touch redefined me.

He took my lead and thrust in and out, slowly at first, but rising in intensity. “Neeta, baby, you feel so good.”

Braced on one arm, he cupped my face with his free hand and kissed me, deep and hard. He owned my body. At that moment, I would do anything for him.

I clung to his shoulders and devoured him, digging my nails into his skin.

He groaned. “I can’t hold back, baby.”

His hips flexed, he pounded into me faster, and to my amazement, I crashed over the edge again, crying out as the spasms of pleasure ripped through me, shaking me to the bone. He shouted as he came too.

It left us breathless and clinging to each other. Instead of collapsing on top of me, crushing the breath out of my body, he rolled onto his back. Scooping me into his arms, he held me tight.

I stroked his poor, bruised face, still at a loss for words. This wonderful, amazing man had just given me something so precious, a window into a different world. “Jon.” I struggled to put it into words.

He had to have seen the tears gleaming in my eyes, and a panicky look flashed across his face. “Sweetheart. I didn’t hurt you did I? I was trying so hard.”

“God,
no
.” I was half laughing, half crying. “Thank you,
thank you
. It was the most wonderful thing ever. I had no idea it could be like that.” We cuddled a little longer, and I plucked up my courage. There was a question I had to ask.

“Was it okay for you?” I dreaded his reply, but I had to know. Was Rob right? Was I unable to satisfy him?

“Okay?” Jon looked astonished at my whispered question. “It was way, way beyond okay. It was amazing.”

To say I’d been blown away by the experience would barely do it justice. I couldn’t believe it had been so good, so utterly, bone-meltingly satisfying, and delicious on every level. Every atom of my body felt attuned to Jon, every piece of skin he kissed left me awash in a puddle of need, wanting more.

We separated while he disposed of the condom, and then he slipped downstairs to fetch some snacks. We drank the wine, ate the food, and made love some more. He couldn’t keep his hands off me.

We must have slept a little, because I remember Jon waking me just after seven. We lay tangled together in bed, fingers entwined, legs too, our bodies pressed against the other. I wanted to stay there forever.

He squinted at his watch. Yawning, he asked me what time I had to get up for work.

I groaned. “Soon.”

Jon pinned me down and started a leisurely exploration of my breasts with his mouth. He raised his head briefly. “You could call in sick today. You’ve been up all night; you’re probably not fit for work.”

It was tempting, and I giggled. “Don’t you have to go to London today? What time are you leaving?”

“After lunch. Hours away.”

Duty and desire fought briefly. Desire won. I called Colette and asked her to cover for me. I’d done the same for her plenty of times.

BOOK: Pole Position
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