Page 33 of Double Obsession

“I think that was Jen–”

The door closed, blocking the rest of the conversation.

****

The scent of jasmine filled his nostrils and permeated the hotel room. He dropped his backpack beside the door. Jenna left his side to fling her keys on the nightstand and root through her purse. Meanwhile, the tight fabric caressed her oh-so-perfect ass, and a smear of red lipstick ran from her lip to her cheek as proof that she had just been ravished.

“Give me a minute?” she requested.

A minute? No way! He needed to plunge himself deep inside her days ago. He acquiesced with an unhappy nod.

“My dad had surgery earlier today.” She fiddled with her phone while she spoke. “I have to check on him. I also need to make sure my kids are okay.” One side of her mouth twisted upward. “My sister texted to say he’s doing great.”

A moment later, her frown felt like a kick in his teeth. “There’s nothing from my kids.”

“I’m sure they’re fine,” he said.

She sighed.

His current testosterone overload had become damn painful.He rushed toward her, taking her into his arms. Suddenly the wall was there. Shit, had Jenna hit her head? Before he could apologize,she yanked on his `buttons and thrust her tongue down his throat. Within seconds his shirt was off, and her red panties hit the floor.

Between kisses, he spun her around and lifted her skirt. Her ass was so perfect that he bent forward to place a kiss on each round cheek. She steadied herself against the wall, gasping and shivering.

Who needed a fucking bed?

He tugged on her hair, pulling her head to the side so they could make out as he slid his pants and briefs down. He kicked the discarded clothing to the side, and his thighs pushed her legs wide. Even in stilettos, she was short, and her pussy didn’t line up with his cock. When he lowered her arms to anchor her body against the velvet wallpaper, the incline caused her hips to shift upward. He bent his knees and slammed into her.

Her cries of ecstasy spurred him on and he crashed into that tight pussy until her body trembled. No way would he let her tumble to the ground. He’d keep her on her feet and sniff her hair while staring down at her ass.

The next thing he knew, the little minx grasped the base of his cock. While her hand held him in place her wet walls contracted. She stood tall, showcased her profile, and her tongue reached for his. The second he sucked in her offering, the erotic energy from the thousands of fantasies his subscribers had confided to him erupted like a ripe volcano.

“Fuck,” he cried as he came deep inside Jenna Gibson.

Chapter Fifteen

At six am, a gratingting, ting, tingpealed. Jenna moaned and silenced her phone. Every inch of her body ached, and when she tried to swallow, it seemed as though cotton balls had been shoved down her throat. She didn’t want to disturb the pile of muscle snoring beside her, so she rolled over and brought a hand to her mouth, quieting her giggle.

When Hunter had asked if he could spend the weekend, she hadn’t taken him seriously—freaking wow! If only she had the time, she’d ignore her sore limbs and climb on top of him. Perhaps later?

On second thought, he’d probably fallen into a sound sleep from the afterglow of sex, and unfortunately when he woke up and saw her middle-aged body, he’d flee in horror.

She tiptoed from the bed to the bathroom. Since she didn’t have time to blow-dry her hair, she wore a plastic cap to shower. The brush didn’t tame the nest of mousse and sex tangles, so she pulled the mess into an unruly ponytail and then donned a floral sundress and sparkly, purple flipflops.

She ached to kiss Hunter one last time since he’d surely be gone when she returned.

In sleep, the man’s confidence and bravado were missing, making him seem almost innocent. Emotions she didn’t understand washed over her. A protectiveness mixed with lust mixed with…. She was a flipping idiot. She’d already been screwed over by a man who was a player, and she couldn’t fall for a professional flirt. There was no way she’d survive another heartbreak.

She swung her laptop and purse over her shoulder and headed to the lobby in search of coffee.

While trudging six long New York City blocks, she devoured a muffin and downed the brew. By the time she reached The McMurry Agency, her blood pumped wildly and sweat dotted her forehead. She climbed the stairs to the third floor.

The always bold Berta waited in the reception area. Jenna took a break from her anxiety to grin. It took a heck of a lot of moxie to wear a brown flare-legged one-piece pant suit with sneakers.

“He’s ready for us,” Berta said.

Jenna held her breath and followed her advocate.

McMurry greeted Berta with a mumbled, “Good morning.” He held out his hand, indicating they should sit. “Thanks for coming, Jenna.”