Page 30 of Dirty Diana
“Of course,” I say as Jasper is pulled into the thickening crowd.
For the rest of the night, it’s like we’re trying to find each other again. I circulate with trays of food and brush against his arm. When he passes me, deep in conversation with another couple, he holds out his hand so that it grazes my hip. It’s intoxicating. We’re both working, and both so aware of each other. In the kitchen, I turn on the tap and run cold water over my wrists.
When I emerge, with a trayful of mini blackberry crumbles, I spot Jasper near the office, talking to Sylvia but watching me. When she heads back into the crowd, he slouches against the closed door, keeping his eyes on mine. He’s alone in the hallway.
“Hi,” I say.
“Why are you the only person here I actually want to talk to?”
I lean against the wall next to him, close enough that my leg brushes his. Our knees touch. Then our fingers as I turn to face him. I say, “Can I?” and then I touch his lips. As my fingers drop away, we fall into a kiss.
It’s long and slow. An entire night of foreplay leading to a rush of excitement as our lips finally meet. There is no experimenting to see what the other likes, nothing tentative or unsure. He moves in front of me, his body facing mine, and presses his hands against the wall on either side of me. The sensation it creates is like being in a tunnel. We’re protected here, shielded from the party, just the two of us and the echoes of this good feeling.
He’s taller than me so when we kiss, he leans down and tilts my chin up to meet him. Then he pulls back and the corners of his mouth lift into a small smile. He runs his hands down the length of my arms and bends even lower to kiss my neck.
My senses are overwhelmed by the scent of his expensive shampoo, the sharp taste of vodka he leaves on my lips, the sting of his stubble on my cheek, and the press of his erection against my thigh. This isn’t the first time I’ve made out with a boy I’ve met at a party or shared a furtive kiss near a crowd of people. I’ve had sex on a first date. I can hold my own in a game ofNever Have I Ever.But this feels different. I’m not waiting to be kissed or even wondering if I should be here at all. Everything in me wants to take the lead, and nothing is run first through the tight filter of my mind. I clasp my fingers around the back of his neck and pull him closer, turning us until his back is against the wall. I lean into his muscular frame, pressing him to the office door. Then I reach just past his hip for the doorknob.
I crack open the door and for a moment, neither of us moves. I take his face between my hands, his eyes sparkling but hard to read. “Can you leave your own party?”
He kisses me again, tugging on my bottom lip with his teeth. “Yes.”
Inside the office it is dark and cool. Standing in the middle of the room, I slide my hands under his jacket so that it falls onto the desk behind him. His T-shirt is thin and the bare skin of his arms is warm. He circles both of my wrists in one of his hands and lifts them over my head. When he lets go, I leave my arms suspended this way as he undoes the top button of my shirt. His eyes search mine, and I want to melt into him.
“Diana?” His breath is quick.
“Yeah?”
“It’s really nice to meet you.”
We both smile.
“Pretty great party,” I add.
“Pretty great.” He laughs. “Maybe the best.” He kisses me more urgently and I imagine we’re alone on an island, where we can stay like this, uninterrupted, for days.
He carefully undoes each of my buttons from top to bottom thenpulls my shirt down my arms until it lands at my feet. He bites his bottom lip, studying me, and a heat spreads through my body. I watch his chest move under his shirt. I reach my hands beneath it and up his muscled back, pulling it off over his head. I touch his naked skin and his breathing gets harder. Faster. I press my mouth to his. His full mouth.
I take his hand and lay it against my chest. “Fast,” I say.
He leaves his hand there for a long, easy moment feeling my racing heartbeat. He places my hand over his own heart. “Faster,” he replies.
I run my hands through his hair as he leans back onto the desk, pulling me to him. I look into his eyes and we both smile, wondering how we got here.
“Jasper!” A hard rap on the door. A voice like daggers. “Jasper! I need you!”
He sighs.
“Jasper!” Sylvia knocks again.
“You better go,” I whisper, laughing.
“Okay,” he calls over my shoulder, still looking deep into my eyes. He sighs again. “I’m sorry.”
He kisses me quickly and smiles his dimpled smile. He pulls on his T-shirt, then his jacket, and he’s gone.
I stay alone in the office. Dressing very slowly. I should definitely get back to work, but first I slip into the bathroom where I splash my face with water. A smile breaks across my face.
Outside the bathroom, I hear a pop of a champagne bottle and loud cheering. When I come out, Jasper is standing next to Sylvia who grins from ear to ear. Silent Rod comes up next to me and whispers, “Sold every piece here. The big ones went for seven grand.” It’s the longest strand of words Rod has ever spoken to me.
