Page 10 of Jason

She was even more exquisite than I imagined. Battling with me for control of the kiss, she soon climbed on my lap, trying to push my tongue back into my mouth with her own. Her little hands on me drove me wild. I knew her touch from therapy; I even came to crave it on any day, but this level of need for her, surprised me yet again. I couldn’t help myself. I couldn’t stop. I pulled open her shirt, sending the buttons flying everywhere, and almost ripped her bra in my frantic need to see her. I tore my mouth from hers, gulped, and looked down. When I had the answer to one of the questions tormenting me daily, all I could do was swallow the saliva that almost started to trickle out of my mouth. Her nipples were pink on their outer edges and the firm tips were purple.

“Fuck me,” I could feel the words scratching my throat as I half growled, half moaned. Giving in to the primal need that was swimming in me, I took one of her tits in my hand, watching closely as the other nipple turned darker.

Her hand cupped my face and yanked it up to her. She kissed me, taking advantage of my surprise by pushing her tongue in my mouth and then gliding it teasingly over mine. Growling, I took back control and plunged into her mouth when her hands pulled at my shirt to get to my skin, yanking it up, and she went right for my chest, making my eyes cross and roll back in my head when her blunt nails scratched the skin on my pecks.

“Rory,” I panted, unsure what the hell I was going to say.

I knew we needed to stop, but when she didn’t say anything and just leaned down a little to lick and bite my neck, squirming in my lap, all coherent thoughts went out of the window.

I took one nipple between my thumb and finger, rolling it slowly then pinching it and watched as Rory opened her mouth and whimpered while her eyes closed slowly. I was about to take it into my mouth when on the last roll she started to grind on my dick, making my aching cock weep. I knew I was seconds from losing myself in her, seconds from getting all of her, and when she whimpered again, I came to my senses and circled her waist with my hands, stopping her.

“Why are you stopping?” she asked between hard breaths, her hands gliding over my skin, her face still in my neck, her hips fighting my hands and trying to grind down on me once more.

I hated myself at that moment.

“Rory, baby,” I gulped, praying to God what I said next wouldn’t mean I lost all the chance I had with her. “We need to stop.”

“What? Why?” she looked at me, her face a mix of confusion and desire.

“Because I need you to know I’m not just looking for a fuck.”

Jesus, I couldn’t believe the words coming out of my mouth. What guy in his right mind would stop a hot little thing like Rory? But as I watched the little crease form between her brows then a look of total horror washed down her face as she tried to get off me, I knew I did the right thing. I didn’t want this look to greet me in the morning or to lose her as my therapist...and that would certainly happen if we carried on. Better for us to clear the air now than for her to run out on me later.

“Listen to me, Rory,” I grabbed her hips again and shook her a little as she still tried to get away, pulling at ends of her shirt, trying to close it at the same time. “I don’t want to just fuck you. I want all of you.” I could see she was shutting the door firmly on me. That’s okay, I thought. For now. I’d get to her.

She was mine. She just didn’t know it yet.

“I think it’s better if you go now,” she whispered, not looking at me.

Fuck!

Did I just make a mistake?

“Please, go,” she repeated, now standing in front of me, looking at the floor.

I sighed, hoping to everything that’s holy that I didn’t just blow my only chance with her. Taking her hand in mine, I squeezed it to get her to look at me and when I saw tears swimming in her eyes, I walked her to her front door.

“Look at me,” I cupped her chin, pulling her face up when she wouldn’t give me her eyes again. “We are going to talk about this. But for now, you need to know that I want you. And that I respect you. That’s the only reason I put a stop to what was going on tonight. I don’t want you to think I only want one thing from you.” I leaned down and kissed her mouth that dropped slightly open during my little speech. I smiled to myself when that dreamy, unfocused look came back into her eyes. “I want all of you, Rory. Sleep tight, baby,” I whispered, and with one last kiss, I turned and did the last thing I wanted to do.

I walked out.

*~*~*

“What the fuck do you want?” I sighed when I saw it was Curt standing at my door.

I could happily go one more week without seeing him. Or a year. Either way would be fine with me. When Curt said nothing, just gave me one of his smug little smiles that had even me shuddering, I open the door wider and went to the kitchen island to check if Rory’s coffee was still hot and if I had enough donuts for her. I couldn’t help but chuckle when I remembered the look on her face a few days ago, before our kiss.

After a particularly draining day for both of us, since my muscles were cramping all day, I heard Rory’s stomach growl in response to my hissing threats about how I was going to fire her. She tried to hide it, but the coloring of her cheeks were a dead giveaway that she was embarrassed by the involuntary sound.

She was so beautiful and cute at the same time that I couldn’t help myself and I blurted, “Want something to eat?”

I knew the moment the words left my mouth that I was playing with fire. All morning, the visions of her bent over the table where she had me sitting, then lying down played havoc in my mind. But I didn’t want her to go just yet. I wanted to spend a little more time in her company.

“Umm...sure.” For about five seconds, we stood opposite eachother, neither one of us moving a muscle. “Are you going to feed me or stare at me all day?”

She quirked a brow at me. I shook my head, partially to chase away the stupor her answer had given me, partially to shake the sudden images of our lunch being pushed to the floor and her spread wide on my table. As I gave her the plate with broiled salmon and vegetables, I had to remind myself that no, I didn’t want her. I hated her. She was, sadly, off limits. Or so I was still telling myself at the time. Hoping it would work and all those fantasies would stop.

“What the hell is that?” the demand came as I leaned over her plate on the island to squeeze the lemon on her veggies. Maybe I stepped over some kind of line? Maybe she wanted to prepare her meal herself?