Authors: Lauren Blakely
A tornado of jealousy sweeps through me. But I have no right to feel envious, since she's not mine. I better revise my jackass tally since I clearly belong on it now.
She shakes her head. “No. I went to dinner with Lily. To a little sandwich shop on the East Side,” she says, as we walk through the New York night toward our building.
“How is she?”
Josie smiles. “She's finally giving Rob the boot. I hate to say it, but I'm so glad. He was no good for her.” She hooks her arm through mine, and I tamp down a smile because right now we seem like a hell of a lot more than two roomies heading home together.
I flash back to Wyatt's comments about dates, to Josie's remarks about not dating, and to the gift certificate I shoved out of my mind all day. “Is there any chance you'd want to take an Enticing Appetizers and Alluring Desserts class with me?”
My voice sounds dry as I ask the question, as if I've never asked a girl out before. As I wait, the thumping in my chest has the audacity to reappear. I hope she'll say yes.
She quirks up one eyebrow. “The sensual cooking class?”
I blink. “That's what it is? I just thought it was a fun desserts class, and I know you like to try those out.”
She nods. “I've heard it's amazing.”
“Want to go?”
She nods eagerly. “I'd love to.”
Guess that means I have a date with Josie now.
There's a spring in my step as we reach the building. But I remind myself it's not a date. She's just a friend. She's just a girl I live with.
When the elevator door closes I'm ready to pounce on her. Cage her in my arms. Kiss the hell out of her. But a weather-worn woman with silver streaks in her hair follows us in, her husband behind her.
I raise my chin, recognizing them as fellow residents in this building. “Hey there. How's your evening?”
She tuts and shakes her head. “It was a good one, until I checked the mailbox.” She holds a stack of envelopes in her hand. “I've always detested the mail. Bills, bills, bills.”
Her husband nods sagely.
“Mail can have a way of bringing you down,” Josie chimes in. “Unless someone sends cookies, money, or candy.”
The woman laughs. “Now, that would be a good mail day.”
They exit on the fifth floor. When the elevator slows at our floor, I return to Josie's last text. “What did you have in store for me tonight?”
A flirty look is her answer as she exits and leaves me with this enticing command: “Come find me in ten minutes and you'll see.”
of anticipation camps out in my body. This is the adult equivalent of waiting for Santa Claus. And I was one hell of a fan of the jolly man in red. But right now, as I knock back a glass of Scotch in the kitchen and check the time, I'm confident that whatever is waiting for me under the tree that is Josie's bedroom will be better than any bike,
toy, or game of Operation I've ever received.
And I did love Operation.
But I love sex way more.
Let me amend that. I love sex with Josie way more than any gift. More than nearly anything.
The sound of a slow, sexy song drifts through the apartment. I close my eyes, listening. It's low and seductive, and I can't make out the words from here, but I recognize an invitation when I hear one.
I finish the amber liquid, set the glass on the counter, and follow the sound of the honey-voiced singer.
Our place is small. It doesn't take me long to reach Josie's room. The music grows louder. Sounds like one of those female crooners with voices that ooze sex appeal. The words and lyrics do the same, too. Joss Stone maybe, singing about the higher you take her.
The door is ajar. A sliver of light shines into the hall. I rap lightly.
“Come in.” Her voice is smoky, like this song.
When I push open the door all the breath rushes out of my lungs. “Jesus fucking Christ,” I groan, as my cock thickens.
Josie rests on top of the white covers, her brown and pink hair fanned out on a pillow. She wears pink lace panties and one of those bras that cover only half her miraculous tits. Demi-something, I think it's called.
Actually, I don't give a shit what her lingerie is named.
I'm renaming this ensemble the most arousing thing a woman has ever worn. Though, what makes the sight such an immense turn-on is the location of Josie's hands.
One cups her right breast, kneading.
The other? Dear God in heaven. The other hand plays between her legs. Her busy fingers stroke the wet panel of her panties.
My dirty reel has come to life. She meets my eyes, and the glint in them beckons me.
I swallow dryly. My throat is parched, and I grab the tail of my shirt, tug it over my head, then unzip my jeans in a flash. I set a new record for undressing when my briefs come off a nanosecond later.
“You,” I rasp out, as I get on the bed at her feet. “You're so fucking sexy we're going to need a new word for it.”
She smiles at me, her finger rubbing the outline of her swollen clit. Breathily, she asks, “Is this the kind you like to watch?”
I set my hands on her knees, opening her legs more as I stare at the gorgeous, erotic, beautiful sight in front of me. My girl in pink, her panties wet, touching herself because she can't help it.
I shake my head. “I don't
this. I fucking
Kneeling, I take my throbbing cock in my hand, running my palm down the length.
Her hips shoot up. “Oh God, that's so hot,” she moans.
“Yeah?” I do it again, stroking my dick as she watches me.
“That's what I was picturing before you walked in.” Her fingers move faster. I can't look away from her. Not that I would. I'm not insane. I am, however, insanely aroused because she's so fucking wet. She's become my greatest fantasy. “You jerking off on me,” she says.
I was wrong.
This is greater than my hottest fantasy.
Because she's not just getting offâshe's getting off to
“Take these off now.” Reaching for her panties, I tug them down her hips, along her luscious thighs, and over her ankles. Her fingers immediately return to her pussy, but I shake my head.
“I want you naked. Bra, too,” I tell her, and as she unhooks it, I press my hands to her thighs and part her legs farther.
My dick is so hard right now, it's fucking aching for attention, but
âher bare pussy is the stuff dirty dreams are made of. She's slick and wet, and so wildly turned on by thoughts of
I'm flooredâfucking flooredâby the utter dirty perfection of this woman.
Now that her glorious tits are freed and she's as naked as I am, I tip my chin in the direction of her pussy. “Now resume doing the sexiest fucking thing I've ever seen.”
Her nimble fingers return to her wet center, and the second she touches herself, she moans. Lifting her hips, she seeks out her own pleasure. Her eyes float shut again as she strokes all that delicious wetness.
“Oh God,” she murmurs, and that sound is like a bolt of heat straight to my dick. Wrapping a fist around my hard-on, I stroke.
“This is how we were the other week,” I say as I move my hand up and down my erection. “Jerking off to each other.”
She opens her eyes, her green irises hazy with lust. “I thought about you so many times, Chase,” she moans as she rubs her sweet little clit with abandon.
“Did I make you come every time?”
She nods as she rocks her hips. “Every time. All the time. You fucked me so many times.” Her pace quickens and her breathing turns erratic.
“Josie,” I say on an upstroke that sends a hot tremor through me. “Fuck yourself with your fingers.”
Her eyes widen, and then her fingers get to work. She slides one inside her pussy, then another, all while she works the delicious rise of her clit with her thumb.
And hell, if the sight in front of me isn't enough for me to come right now, I don't know what is. But I grit my teeth and call off the dogs, because I'm not firing before she does.
I need to watch every second of the hottest X-rated video I've ever seen. I won't miss a frame.
Her other hand spears into her hair, and she turns her head to the side, her lips parting, her panting loud. Then it becomes a chorus of
oh God, I'm so close.
And she fucks herself.
With a wild need to come.
I see it in her features, in the torment on her face as she nears the edge, in the mad speed of her fingers as she thrusts in and out, in her thumb as she strokes and strokes and strokes until she hits that high note.
She calls out a last
and her hips rise up.
And then she trembles.
Like a full-body shudder. I swear, I can see her orgasm move through her. It's the most beautiful thing I've ever witnessedâthe way Josie comes. She doesn't hold back. Not her mouth, not her body, nothing. “Oh my God, oh my God, fuck me.”
I don't mind if I do.
My own release isn't far off, but I don't slide into her since I don't have a condom close enough. Instead, I climb up her, straddling her waist as I jerk my cock harder.
Pleasure rattles through me and I groan.
She blinks open her eyes and seems to register where I am. She pushes her breasts together, and that's all I need to know.
I slide in and fuck her tits, bracing my palm on the pillow by her face.
Now this? This is a whole new realm of heaven. My dick is in my favorite place, and I'm seconds from coming. She pushes her tits even tighter, creating a warm tunnel for my shaft. On an upstroke, Josie sticks out her tongue and flicks the head of my cock.
It feels magnificent.
And it flips the switch.
“Gonna come,” I grunt, and with a loud groan I shoot jets over her chest. I shudder, my shoulders shaking as my climax thunders through me.
“Holy fucking shit,” I mutter. Because it was so fucking good.
Because of her.
When I come down from my high, I reach over to her nightstand and grab some tissues. “Let me clean this.”
I wipe me off her chest as she murmurs, “I liked it, though.”
“Yeah? Were you going to wear my come all night?”
She laughs lightly and shrugs. “I like it when you come on me.”
I stand and toss the tissues in a trash can, then return to her, gathering her in my arms. “You do?”
She nods and tilts her chin up, meeting my eyes. “It's my favorite thingâmaking you come,” she says softly, then runs a finger down my chest. Her touch is electric, and even though I just finished, I'm getting hard again. “I like when you come inside me.” Her fingers trail down my pecs. “And in my mouth.” Then to my abs. “And on my body.” Over my hip. “I just love it when it feels good for you.”
I'm so stunned by the sheer sensuality of her words and by the gorgeous honesty in them that I barely know what to say. Instead, I drop my mouth to hers and kiss her softly, then harder still, because the taste of her lights me up, and it shuts my mouth.
That way, I won't slip and say the words she doesn't want to hear. Words that clog my throat and fight to come out. Words that I have to shove back down because they'd reveal everything.
I barely understand how she can say something so raw and sexual to me, and not only does it turn me on beyond any and all reason, but it also hooks into my heart and makes me fall harder for her.
When she breaks the kiss, I wriggle my eyebrows. “I love it when you come, too. So let's make that happen.”
I move down her body, kissing her beautiful breasts, her soft waist, the curve of her hips, then I bury my face between her legs, licking her until she comes again. My name is on her lips with every shudder, every tremble, every cry.
And it kills me.
It kills me how much I want her in every way.
And later, when I put her on her hands and knees and fuck her until she groans, I groan, and the bed groans, I revise my earlier sentiment about her chest being my favorite place.
is my favorite place.
And I'm ridiculously glad I have a date with her, even though I doubt it'll be the first of many, like I want.
The clock ticks on this thing between us. The more we spend nights in bed, the harder it'll be to carry on as just friends when this ends.
f I thought
Josie was into playing mood music the other night, she's got nothing on Ivory.
The teacher of the sensual cooking class pipes in a constant stream of Sade at the cooking school in Soho on a Friday night.
Oh, and she's also arranged scented candles around the room. I suspect she hopes we're all going to get it on right here on the kitchen counter after we prep the chocolate-covered strawberries.
Josie and I aren't the only ones taking the Enticing Appetizers and Alluring Desserts class, but I think we might be the only couple that's barely a couple. Or the only pair not quite taking this class as seriously as all the others.
There's an older couple here, in their sixties maybe. The man has his paws all over his woman. I'm not opposed to PDA in theory, but I'm not all that interested in seeing him grope her ass incessantly. But it's nice that they dig each other. A younger couple is here, and the woman is pregnant. They might be trying to get pregnant while pregnant tonight, if such a thing were possible, judging from how many times he kisses her as they chop vegetables. Two men are here, too, and they're quite touchy-feely as well.
Fine, it's a sensual cooking class, but it's a bit like we're on an episode of
Couples RetreatâWatch The Modern Man and Woman Mate. Or Man and Man. Or Woman and Woman.
And look, I'm all for getting it on with Josie as much as possible. Just not in a class. Tonight, she wears a summery dress along with her cherry-patterned apron, and surprise, surprise, it makes me think of the first time we madeâ
Screwed, I mean.
That's all it was, and she looks completely screwable in her apron, as she mixes melted chocolate in a glass bowl at the wooden counter.
We've already cooked a pepper dish, while Ivory, in her slinky red dress, opined on how the heat in peppers stimulates blood, endorphins, and, you got it, erections. Considering I'm hard nearly all the time around Josie, I don't need peppers to serve as my Viagra. But peppers are tasty, so we nibbled on that enticing appetizer.
Oysters came next, and Ivory watched over us, encouraging Josie to feed them to me. I declined. “You should try them. They make you virile,” Ivory said.
“Already there,” I told her.
She moved on to another couple, and I whispered to Josie, “Can't stand oysters.”
She crinkled her nose. “I can't either, so that was the right answer on the Roommate Compatibility test.”
Next, our teacher waxed on about asparagus and bananas, citing both the stimulants contained in them, but also how their shapes served as foreplay.
Everyone nodded sagely, like Ivory was sharing some newfound wisdom. But no one seemed able to utter the reason why their shape might be a turn-on.
“You mean because they're phallic?” Josie asked, as if she were just learning this fact.
“Yes,” Ivory said, stroking a banana. “See?”
“Oh, I get it now,” Josie said.
When the teacher turned around, Josie opened her mouth wide like she was about to fellate the fruit. That made my night.
Yeah, maybe we're goofballs. Maybe we're irreverent. Maybe this class isn't exactly for us. It's a bit too serious, but we're having fun in our own way.
Especially now that it's dessert time.
“Chocolate is the ultimate aphrodisiac,” Ivory says, wandering around the room like a dance instructor. Her dark hair is braided down her back. She stops at a hipster coupleâa guy with black glasses and a goatee, who slices strawberries next to a woman with a pixie cut. Ivory places one hand on his shoulder, the other on hers. “Chocolate is delicious, but that's not the only reason it's an aphrodisiac. Do you know why it is?”
The woman clears her throat. “They say it makes you feel like you're falling in love?”
Ivory nods and holds up a finger. “They do say that. But why? Why does chocolate make you feel like you're in love?”
Josie steals a glance at me, and for a second I think it's because of the topic. That she can read it in my eyes, or that she's checking to see if I might feel that way. Nerves crawl up my throat, but when Josie nudges me, it's clear she's just having fun. “I know the scientist in you is dying to answer,” she says under her breath.
She's not wrong. I rocked at school. Hell, I didn't skip two grades for nothing. I loved taking tests, loved answering questions, and loved getting the answers right. Part of me wants to shout, “It's chemistry.”
But Ivory keeps going. “Chocolate is an aphrodisiac because it melts on the tongue, and because it improves circulation. But most importantly, it strengthens the heart.” She stops in the middle of the room and surveys her cooking students at each station. “And do you know what a strong heart does?”
I. Can't. Resist.
I speak up. “A strong heart beats one hundred thousand times a day and pumps about two thousand gallons of blood through the circulatory system to sustain life. When the heart is strong, you can do everything better, faster, and longer.” Ivory watches me with wide eyes. “That also means a strong heart improves endurance.” I square my shoulders. “Including between the sheets.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Josie's lips twitching. Her hand covers her mouth. Then a small laugh slips past her fingers.
“Very good,” Ivory says with a nod. “And you see, class, chocolate is good for the heart because it helps ensure you can last all night long.”
Josie grabs my arm and digs her nails in, no doubt so she doesn't crack up.
“And now let us enjoy the stimulant,” Ivory says, holding her arms out wide, as if she's our Sherpa guiding us up the mountain of sexual exploration. “Let us dip the strawberries in the chocolate and feed them to our partners.”
Josie turns to me, a naughty little grin on her face as she holds a strawberry and whispers, “Open wide.”
I do, flicking my tongue out, letting her know what I want to be eating.
My date brings a chocolate-covered strawberry to my tongue. It's tasty, and I finish it quickly. Then I notice everyone else is moving in slow motion, taking their time with the berries, rolling them around on their tongues, dusting kisses on their partners' mouth.
Make no mistakeâI would love to be kissing Josie right now. But in private. Not on display. I lower my voice. “I feel like we're in a Lamaze class, and we're the only ones not totally into it.”
She laughs. “Same here. Also, I already knew all this stuff about the food. Sort of like you and the heart,” she says, tapping mine.
Her hand on me feels good. It reminds me where I want to be.
Evidently, she feels the same because she mouths, “Want to make a run for it?”
I lunge as if I'm about to take off in a race. Josie shakes her head, then dips her hand in her purse, fiddles around with something, and soon my phone bleeps loudly from my pocket.
Josie turns her expression to one of worry. “Oh my God, is that the hospital?” she says in a stage whisper.
I slide into my role. “It must be,” I say heavily. “I'm on call tonight.”
I grab my phone, swipe my thumb across the screen, and bring it to my ear, answering it professionally. I pretend to listen to instructions. When the imaginary answering service is through, I say, “I'll be right there. Make sure to stabilize the patient and start an IV drip.”
All eyes in the room snap to me. “I'll be there in ten minutes.” For Josie's amusement, I add in a deeply ominous tone, “And whatever you do, Bob, don't lose the patient.”
Dun. Dun. Dun.
I end the call, and Ivory points to the door. “Go! Godspeed.”
We take off into the Soho night, laughing as we make our great escape from the too touchy-feely cooking lesson.
“What a strange class,” Josie says as we head to the subway. “Funny, because I heard so many raves about it.”
“I get why it's fun, but maybe it's not for us. To each his or her own, I suppose. The guy who recommended it liked to hang on chandeliers.”
We stop at the crosswalk, waiting for the light. She looks up at the faint stars in the sky, as if she's thinking. “The whole idea of aphrodisiacs or sensual food is cool, but maybe it's not the food that's sensual.” She meets my eyes. “Maybe it's the person. Maybe it's just who you're with, and it's not about the candlelight, or the music, or the way you feed someone.”
I drop my hand to her shoulder and serve up the full truth. “Josie, you could eat tuna fish and I'd still be turned on.”
She brings a hand to her chest and bats her eyes. “I think that's the sexiest thing you've ever said to me.”
Then we go underground.