Page 49 of Third Time’s a Charm

“I only have one more condom.” I slip a hand between her thighs, and slide a finger into the hot, wet folds of her pussy.

“We’d better make it count, then.” Her voice is full of mischief and joy, and somehow, she’s above me, kissing her way down my body, teeth grazing my nipples. Her hands slide up my sides until her fingers tease the hair under my arms before travelling back down to my hips, anchoring me. Louise runs her tongue up my length and swirls around the tip before her lips open and suck me to the back of her throat in one smooth movement.

Holy fuck. This woman is something else.

“Don’t start something you don’t want to finish,” I warn. She doesn’t respond, but I can feel her smile around my cock.

There’s no need for words. She knows what she’s doing to me. I gather her still-damp hair in one hand and wrap it around my fist as she works me with equal amounts of skill and enthusiasm.

My muscles tense. I’m close. So close. I can tell she senses it. Her mouth clamps tighter, moves faster, tongue pressing hard as she releases my hips. One hand circles my cock, while the other slips down and she drags her short nails gently over my contracting balls.

“Jesus.” I gasp as my back arches, my thighs spasm, and jet after jet of cum fills her mouth.

She continues to suck and lick and swirl her tongue on the supersensitive flesh of my crown, causing my whole body to jump and jerk with aftershocks. When she finally lifts her head, there’s a tiny dribble of cum escaping the side of her mouth. She swipes at it with the back of her hand.

My chest heaves in great, ragged breaths as Louise lies down beside me.

“Give me a minute.” The words are barely more than a gasp of air.

I think I’ll need more than a minute. That is until I become aware of the press of her breasts against the side of my chest. The weight of her leg draped over mine. Already, even though my heart’s still racing from my release, my dick is letting me know it has other ideas.

Louise laughs as I roll her onto her back and slide down her body, sucking and nipping as I go.

“I thought you needed a minute?”

My only answer is a noise of dissent as my mouth reaches the soft, wet flesh between her legs.

She draws her knees up and out, opening herself for me to feast on, encouraging me with fingers tight in my hair. Her hips rise in a pulsing motion, pushing herself tight against my mouth as I lick and slurp, my tongue tracing every fold and cleft. She’s already close; the muscles in her belly and thighs tighten, quiver.

I seal my mouth tight over her clit and suck hard. I can almost hear the explosion inside her, low and resonant, like fireworks in the distance. A strangled sound hurtles from somewhere deep in her chest. Her back arches, legs spasm, fingers dig into my scalp. With a whimper, she falls limp on the narrow bed.

With a hum of satisfaction, I lick her juices off my lips and wipe my hand across my dripping chin.

“Time to make the most of that one last condom.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

Jasper

I’m going to hell. And I deserve every inch of blistered skin and singed hair.

I should never have touched Louise without coming clean about my reason for being here. Certainly not before I’ve had a chance to convince Tate to let me try and make this business, and Louise’s idea, work.

And I’ve done it not once, but twice. Well, technically, four times now, if the condoms are to be trusted.

We need to have a conversation, but there’s still the small issue of the non-disclosure agreement.

If last night was half as good as this morning, forgetting it is a tragedy. As is not doing it again. And again. Hopefully, we’ll get another chance soon.

Thank God Louise dozes off after the gold medal sex. It gives me the opportunity to do what has to be done.

I slide my arm out from under her and ease off the bed, careful not to disturb her, then cover her with a blanket from the other bed. Tiptoeing across the room, I pull on sweatpants, hang the Do Not Disturb sign on the door and retreat to the bathroom with my laptop.

There’s not enough room in here to sit on the floor, so I perch on the toilet lid, which is not ideal but needs must, and open up my emails.

I didn’t get the chance to send this proposal off yesterday as I had intended. And the events of last night and this morning mean it can’t wait any longer.

It takes me twenty minutes and a lot of backspacing to craft an email that should appeal to both Tate’s greed and his ego. If I were superstitious like Louise, I might cross my fingers as I attach my plan, which incorporates Louise’s proposal, and hit send. Instead, I close my laptop and climb into the shower, where I berate myself for the way I’ve handled the whole situation.