Page 5 of Missed Communication
“Well…” Aubrey shamelessly shifts her hand lower until she’s gripping my cock through my pants. Her eyes widen as she gasps, “Oh, shit! I don’t think I can even wrap my hand around it.”
“You must have tiny hands,” I chuckle but still appreciate the praise.
“No, you just have a huge dick. Fuck, how is that supposed to fit anywhere?”
“Just like the pasta, I’m confident you can take it.”
A sly smirk tilts her lips as she gently squeezes, slowly sliding her hand up and down my length. “Smart, hot,andfunny—a lethal combination,” she purrs, and it takes everything in me to not blow my load in my slacks. “It’s a shame you’re too young for me, I’d bring you home like a souvenir." She stops her movement, making my balls tighten. “Crap, how old are you really? Please tell me this isn’t like a ‘I’m 6’1” but really 5’10”’ lie in a dating profile situation. Are youactuallytwenty-six? Please tell me you’re at least legal. You have to be over twenty-one because you work at a bar, right? Wait… what’s the drinking age in Canada? I don’t know, I?—”
I shut up her ramblings with my mouth on hers. It takes less than a second for the shock to wear off, moaning into my mouth as if I’m the best thing she’s ever tasted. I’ll admit, I’ve kissed dozens of women, but it’s never been like this. This is hungry, eager, and I can’t get enough.
She’s wrong that I’m too young for her. Sure, she’s ten years my senior, but it’s just a number; I truly don’t give a fuck how old she is. From the moment I saw her tonight, I’ve needed to taste her more than the oxygen in my lungs. It’s completely irrational, and I may as well throw my career away right now, but until one of us wises up to the consequences, she’ll be mine—hopefully not only for one night.
“I’m twenty-six,” I mutter against her lips, hoping to give her peace of mind. “And before you try to use our jobs as an excuse, I know who you are, but I came here anyway.”
Aubrey drags me farther into the suite, bumping into the table. She doesn’t falter, instead sitting on top of it, spreading her legs wide, and I instinctually step between them.
“Sleeping with the Governor’s Chief of Staff isn’t going to land you a promotion, Jamie.” While her tone is teasing, her insinuation never occurred to me. It isn’t as if Aubrey has any sway in Canadian politics. “One night of fun. That’s all I can promise.”
“And what if I want more?”
She cups my cheek. “To be clear, this is just sex, okay? You live in an entirely different country, and I’ll be gone in a week. So, take it or leave it.”
Since I’m the product of a one-night stand, hooking up with someone like this has always been a hard limit for me; I’m hesitant to agree to her proposal. But how the hell am I going to walk away now that I’ve felt her lips on mine and know how she tastes?
I’ve had plans to move to California for the past few years. She can believe this will be casual, live in her little delusion for now, but she’ll need to prepare for more once I eventually follow her back to the Golden State. You don’t give up on women like Aubrey—you earn them. And I have every intention of doing just that.
I let her question hang between us, tilting her chin, and bringing our lips a breath apart. Her eyes search mine, seeking an answer I refuse to give. If she thinks I’m going to sink myself inside her and let it be one time, she’s sorely mistaken.
I only make promises I intend to keep.
3
Aubrey
He’s entirely too beautiful to be real. While I initially went downstairs to find this gorgeous man, I never thought I’d actually find him, and definitely didn’t expect him on the other side of the bar. I figured I’d run into some traveling investment banker dining solo who I could bring back up to my room for a quickie. Instead, a man who is a decade younger than me, and whose touch sets my entire body on fire, is standing here in my suite, letting me take advantage of him.
As he gently holds my chin with his thumb and forefinger, I slide my hands up his sides and pull him closer until his lips brush mine. It isn’t like the greedy first kiss we shared; it’s sweet, romantic even… dangerous. I can’t have soft boyfriend-like kisses from this stranger. This is just a little fling, a night of letting loose, nothing more.
I nip at his bottom lip as I pull back, and a little growl gets stuck in his throat. His eyes are dark and the energy from him is scorching. I spent years in a loveless marriage, and even with all of the men I dated, not a single one of them looked at me like this, with such hunger that I ached for them to touch me.They were all uninspired, mediocre. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so desired, sexy even.
Shifting my hands higher, I trace my fingers along the collar of his shirt, outlining the little tattoos peeking out. I joked yesterday with Olivia on the way to the airport, “So help me if I find myself a man who calls me a good girl with an accent and a slutty little mustache or goatee, I’m toast.” Jamie does indeed have a slutty little mustache, so there’s only one box checked, but if he dares call me a good girl, I may as well book the next flight to Vegas with him. I’m just glad he doesn’t have an accent, or my panties may melt right off me.
“What’s so funny?”
I brush away the thought, but there’s also no harm in being honest. “I warned Livy that she should keep me away from hot men with accents and mustaches. I guess that explains why she hasn’t come barging in yet.”
His brows pinch. “I’m not following.”
“You don’t have an accent—not even some stereotypical Canadian one you hear in movies. If you were in California, I’d just assume you were born and raised there. So, from the looks of it, I’m in the clear.”
A dark chuckle rumbles in his chest. Pressing a soft kiss just below my ear, he whispers, “No estés tan segura, abayarde. Mi papá es puertorriqueño, así que mi mamá insistió que yo aprendiera español.”
I’ve been using a language app for a while to learn Spanish, but can only make out some of what he said—something about how his dad is Puerto Rican. I couldn’t focus on the words because it came out like a damn purr, sending a shiver down my limbs.
“Oh, fuck,” I breathe, a little dizzy from whatever the hell he said.
Jamie pulls back, a devilish grin splitting his face. “I guess Olivia should be beating down the door to come save you now.”
