Maneater Page 6

  Especially when they give oral; no one wants to gag on pubes …

  I don’t go the full Brazilian; I leave a nice little runway. It’s my pride and joy.

  My waxer, Skye, knows exactly the way I want it, and she does it perfectly. I trim it up between. Trust me when I say the guys appreciate it.

  I’m always complimented.

  “Damn, woman, that is sexy.”

  “I love a woman who stays well-groomed.”

  I’ve never had a comment, “you should let your hair grow,” or “it’s too bare down there.”

  Reminds me of the Play School song “There’s a bear in there.”

  Sometimes, I have the brain of a fifteen-year-old …

  ***

  A couple of days later, I’m all healed and ready to go.

  The thought has already crossed my mind that if Dan says no, I’m heading to Rock’s. No point in wasting a good waxing.

  After work Friday, I grab a quick shower. I was smart enough to wash my hair last night, so all I need is to give it a straighten with my trusty GHD and get dressed.

  I’m opting for casual yet sexy.

  How do you dress to say, “hey, I’m happy to have fun, but don’t get the wrong idea about this being our first date with more to come”? Too trivial.

  Man, this whole dating shit is complicated. That’s why I want no strings; it’s easier.

  “How do I look?” I ask Roxy as I parade around our apartment.

  I’ve gone for a knee-length denim dress with a built-in belt—V-cut, of course, but not massive on the cleavage like my other outfit options. There’s a time and a place.

  I wear my trusty favourite silver hoop earrings and apply minimal make-up, though my trademark dark eyes still make an appearance.

  “Wow, Jem, you look different,” she replies, smiling and looking puzzled.

  “What, ’cause I’m dressed a little sophisticated?” I question her response.

  “Well, yeah, minimal cleavage and legs aren’t on show. Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?” she jokes, and I laugh. I can see how it may be surprising.

  “God, Rox, I just have no idea. I don’t want to give him the wrong idea about a relationship, but it’s dinner, not clubbing. Should I change into something shorter or jeans?” I question, feeling even more goddamn confused.

  I slouch my shoulders and sit on our lounge, feeling conflicted. I adjust my shoes, keeping myself distracted; my strappy wedge heels aren’t as high as usual, as I can’t actually remember if he is taller than I am. That first night is a little blurry.

  God, clothes are hard sometimes …

  “No; seriously, Jem, you look gorgeous. You always make the right clothes choices. I’m just used to the shorter version on you. Right now, you look fabulous,” she declares and embraces me.

  “Thanks, girlfriend. This is why I don’t do the dating thing,” I tell her, shaking my head and snapping myself out of whatever is going on inside my brain.

  ***

  “I’m going to meet him outside to get some fresh air and all that jazz,” I tell her as I check my watch and see it’s already 6:55 p.m.

  “Okay, have a great time. No sex, remember!” she jokes. I filled her in on his text message; it still makes me laugh. Roxy pokes her tongue out.

  I follow suit and cheekily stick my tongue out in return; it really is a funny request from a male.

  As I walk out the front, the warm night air is welcoming, though a breeze would be nice; the humidity has been stifling.

  I’m surprised to find Dan already here and parked. His car is very nice—black and pretty sexy. I think it’s a new Commodore, a sporty version. A hot car is something I always appreciate.

  “Hey,” I say as he hops out and makes his way towards me.

  “Hey yourself,” he replies, kissing my cheek.

  “You look stunning,” he adds, smiling, making me grin in return.

  “Why, thank you. You scrub up all right yourself.” I wink playfully at him.

  “Let’s get going. I’m hoping parking won’t be too crazy in Milson’s Point,” he states. He has a point; sometimes it can be a royal pain in the butt.

  The inside of his car is just as flashy as the outside—all-leather seats, fancy GPS system with Bluetooth, and state-of-the-art sound system, but not the over-the-top bass you can hear miles away.

  “Is this a 2017 Commodore?” I ask him. I’m usually pretty cluey with cars.

  “Yep, it’s the SS model. You know your cars, Jemma. I’m impressed,” he replies, smirking.

  God, men think we are clueless sometimes. “It’s the 2017 state-of-the-art 6.2 litre V8, and I added the sports armour and racing stripes for that extra-chic sporty look,” he informs me, and I’m impressed. Not only that he knows his stuff, but when he drives off, the engines does all kinds of things to my sensitive lady bits.

  “It’s a hot car, Dan,” I proclaim, looking over at him as he changes the gears with precision.

  “I have to agree with you. Much like the lady riding in it tonight.” He compliments me, and I can’t help but grin.

  The fifteen-minute car trip flies, the car effortlessly gliding in and out of traffic, and we are super lucky to find a perfect car spot. When Dan reverses with ease, it’s a huge turn-on. I love an alpha male who knows what he is doing with cars—and of course, in the bedroom.

  ***

  Dan is pretty cool throughout dinner; he seems a little nervous at first, but a couple of jokes totally break the ice.

  “You choose entrée?” the Thai waitress asks us.

  “I’ll have the tom kha kai soup, please,” I tell her, knowing it was great from last time.

  Dan decides to have the same, and tells the lady, “Make that two, please.” He winks at me, trusting my opinion that the food is going to be at least edible.

  “Do you want to order our main meals, Jem? I totally trust your judgment; you are here with me, after all, so that says something about your taste,” Dan states sarcastically, making me smile and shake my head.

  “Well, actually, I have the perfect combination for us. I’m happy that you trust my judgment,” I reply, nodding. I’m sure he will enjoy the choices.

  When the waitress returns, I excitedly order the rest of our food. “Can we please share the pad khao Thai fried rice, the spicy beef salad, and chicken with cashew nuts with pad Thai fried noodles,” I order, sounding all professional as I feel Dan’s eyes on me.

  When I look up, he is grinning widely and staring at me. He has hunger in his eyes, and not for the Thai food we are about to consume.

  “Very good, thank you,” the short dark-haired waitress responds and heads into the kitchen.

  “Well, I’m intrigued to try the food you have ordered, and even more interested in watching you devour it. Those lips of yours look quite inviting,” he declares, and now I’m grinning again. He is saying all the right things without being a jerk or over the top.

  “Entrée tom kha kai for you both,” the waitress announces, placing two soup bowls in front of us, then a bottle of what I assume is soy sauce.

  “Can we get a bottle of your best white wine too,” Dan requests. The lady smiles and nods, disappearing once again.

  I dig into the soup. It’s just as delicious as I remember.

  It’s mildly spicy with crushed shallots, stalks of lemongrass, and tender strips of chicken. On the top are fresh lime leaves. It’s creamy and mouth-watering.

  I watch Dan as he takes his first mouthful. “This soup is really good,” he tells me, digging in and devouring the rest.

  I follow suit and finish my bowl. When the wine arrives, I wash the soup down with the refreshing beverage. The crisp taste is divine and not too dry like some white wines.

  “So, Dan, I guess I’ve never even asked you where you work?” I question. I hate the awkward silence that sometimes develops.

  Honestly, there is only so much small talk you can do that doesn’t involve work. I vaguely
remember telling him on our hook-up that I regretted drinking so much, as the veterinary clinic is always busy.

  “It’s quite boring, actually, but I work in our family business, Westbrook Software Developers,” Dan tells me. “I’m the executive in charge of the development, testing, and maintenance of computer software programs,” he adds.

  “Yep, sounds a little boring but important,” I respond truthfully. I’ve never been one to judge another person on their employment. Well, that’s not entirely true.

  “I’m also training at a local bar, a few shifts a week; something outside the box for a bit of extra cash,” he adds, and that’s a little more interesting.

  “Now, that is more in my vicinity,” I say, smirking, thinking of him making cocktails and wearing a snazzy bartender outfit. He can make me a drink any day.

  I am pleased that Dan is moaning as he eats the rest of our dinner; he loves my meal choices. Fussy eaters are frustrating, but this food really is nice and tender and bursting with flavour.

  Dinner is a success; the food, like last time, is heavenly and delicious.

  ***

  I can’t help feeling a little conflicted.

  I thoroughly enjoy dinner, conversation, and Dan’s company. I guess it’s all new territory; usually, my rules and checklist are just what I need to get them in my bed. This guy is stimulating my mind more than the normal one-night stands, and his humour is refreshing.

  My one rule that’s not meant to be broken—no strings—is playing havoc on my mind.

  It has been a while since a guy has taken me to dinner; it’s new and different.

  I find myself flicking my hair then licking my lips as the thought of leaving gets me a little hot and worked up.

  Just like other nights, I’m using my body to get what I want. I mean, come on, I waxed and dressed up, so sex is on the dessert menu. He should count his lucky stars; I reject men regularly. No strings, just sex is a blessing for guys.

  It’s a guy’s wet dream.

  It’s just what I do.

  “How ’bout we get outta here,” I suggest, not feeling like any dessert on the menu.

  “I’ve actually got an early morning tomorrow. I’ll have to drop you home and call it a night, Jemma,” Dan replies, and I roll my eyes, knowing it’s his no-sex rule.

  I play along; two can play at this game.

  “Okay. I’ve actually got an early morning with my trainer, too; these babies won’t tone themselves,” I say lifting my dress to show my thighs—of course with an added flash.

  Dan smirks, knowing the game I’m playing.

  “I’ve seen more than your thighs before, Jemma. I know the rest is worth the wait,” he declares playfully, and I smile. Worth the wait …

  What does he mean? Like waiting until we are exclusive? God, just give me sex already.

  I stand, showing him I’m ready to leave, and he follows my lead out to his car. I’m getting frustrated and am close to giving up and walking away. Complications suck.

  I let out a sigh as he opens my door and I slide in. I hear him exhale a deep breath too, and I know I have the same effect on him.

  I let my dress ride up along his leather seats. Playing a little dirty, I spread my legs as I feel his eyes on me. I take a moment to adjust my push-up bra, tucking my babies in neatly, but pulling my dress down a little farther at the front, showing them off.

  “Goddammit, Jemma, you are making it so hard, woman,” Dan proclaims, and I know my dirty little plan is working its magic.

  “Let me feel,” I demand, knowing that’s not what he meant, but I lean across and grope his crotch anyway. “Yep, it’s hard,” I state. I keep massaging as he chuckles and shakes his head at my brazen move.

  I’m grateful the car park is pretty empty, as I’m about 85 percent certain from his hardness that we are going to have car sex.

  “I really like you. I want this to be more than just sex,” he spits out between moans.

  “No more talking, sex is all we need,” I tell him as I climb across and straddle him. Fuck the games, I want action.

  His lips crash onto mine, his hunger so evident and fucking hot as he kisses me hard. His tongue assaults mine, and his hands are all over my back, pulling me onto his cock.

  I rock on his hardness as he cups my breasts. He wastes no time exposing my bra and left nipple as his lips leave mine to suck on my swollen bud.

  “I have a surprise for you,” I whisper as I guide his hand up my inner thigh, showing him that I have no underwear on and a bonus of smooth, soft nakedness.

  “Oh man, that is fucking hot. I need to be inside there,” he moans as he finds my wetness and slips a finger inside. We both moan at the thought of more.

  I nod as I eagerly undo the belt of his jeans then his top button and zipper. I waste no more time, pulling down his jeans and briefs. His erect cock springs free and stands upright.

  “Someone is eager,” I state, smirking. He leans in and kisses me as I slide my hand up his steel rod. I adjust my knees while he helps me pull up my dress, showing him my nice neat pussy and the slim strip of hair that is left. It’s like an arrow pointing at the hot spot.

  “Oh wait, you said no sex. We should stop,” I declare, biting my lip and gaging his reaction.

  “Fuck that; I’ve somehow changed my mind,” he replies, smiling widely as he reaches into his wallet and passes me a foil packet.

  I need no other words. I roll the condom on then adjust my slick, wet folds over the tip of his warm cock. Nice and thick, it fills me the way I like it. I open a little wider as I push down; his shaft slides inside farther.

  “Mmm,” I moan as he fills me all the way.

  “Damn, woman,” he whispers as my wet pussy completely swallows him.

  I lift and adjust as he slides out then I push to direct him back inside. I continue this rhythm, in and out, slowly at first, then as we are both looking into each other’s eyes with the same amount of lust, I slam down onto his length, over and over. I gasp as I’m completely filled and whimper as his thumb finds my clit.

  My J spot is hit inside over and over as I guide his cock to please us both.

  I arch my back as he holds my hips and thrusts upwards; his hands dig in as my clit pulses and my wetness pools. My release electrifies me, and I ride the wave of my orgasm, drenched as I explode and gyrate, taken into bliss. With one last hard thrust, Dan follows my release; he pounds into me as he quivers with his own gratification.

  We are both well fucked, sweaty, and messy.

  “There are tissues in the glove box,” he tells me, chuckling as I climb off and attempt clean-up in aisle two.

  “The aftermath is never as pretty as the escapade,” I joke, but I’m half-serious.

  “Well, it looks like you won this time, lady,” he says playfully.

  “You sound so certain that there will be a next time,” I reply, my eyes wide.

  “Of course, there will be a next time. I haven’t even started with you yet, Jemma,” he states as I look over at him. He is grinning widely but has rendered me speechless.

  “If you can do no strings, I can do a next time,” I state cautiously. It’s new territory for me. I don’t want to give him the wrong idea, but I don’t want to kick a good thing before I have a bit more fun with it.

  “I’ll try no strings for now, but I want more with you, Jem. I’m planning to show you just how you deserve to be treated, princess,” he tells me then kisses me softly.

  Again, I can’t find words, so I sit in silence as he cleans up then drives me home.

  The fresh air blowing in his car window is welcome on my still flushed face. We park outside; he opens my door and walks me up to my apartment.

  “Tonight, was exceptional,” he tells me then kisses me sweetly. He doesn’t rush; it’s just slow and sensual, holding me tightly as he plays with my lips, nibbling, and caressing my back with his hands. The guy can kiss; it’s a little concerning just how well.

  “Good night, Jemma
. I’ll call you,” he states.

  “Thanks, Dan. I had a great time,” I add, smiling. Then I give him a wink, reminding him no strings.

  I walk inside, still reeling from dinner, the hot sex, and well, everything about the night from start to finish. I start to question myself …

  This guy has already shown me he is different. How long can I hold off on the no-commitment thing?

  I need to stick to my guns; this whole feeling vulnerable is not something I like. It’s uneasy.

  Could he be the exception to my rule?

  Can he prove himself a worthy contender and treat me like a princess, like he said?

  Who the fuck knows?

  So, for now, I like the less complicated avenue.

  Chapter 11

  Dan

  She’s a Wild One

  She’s done it to me again—hook, line, and sinker. I want her bad, for more than just sex, for more than just one night …

  Fuck, when she rode my cock, it was heaven. She’s meant to be on top of me, and under me, but I also believe she’s meant to be my girl.

  I don’t want to share her; I want her to be mine.

  She keeps saying no strings, and she’s happily single. I’ll make her see what I can offer for more than just an orgasm or two.

  I don’t think she’s ever been treated well. I’ll show her romance, shower her with gifts, and prove to her that I am more than the others.

  I am a hot-blooded alpha male, but I was also brought up to respect women. Sex is important but so is conversation, nurturing, and safety.

  Jemma fears the unknown.

  Whatever I need to do, I will do it.

  She talked a lot about her BFF Roxy; maybe she can give me some advice.

  All I know is that I won’t give up. A woman like Jemma is one in a million; I have a once in a lifetime shot with this amazing woman.

  Come hell or high water, I will make her want me.

  For more than just sex.

  I’ve noticed it’s her weapon with me, though; she is using sex as power over me. Who would have thought a woman would love taking over the control and male role?