CONFESSIONAL 329.5
Judson, Dean: (CEO, Juniper Ridge)
Biggest weakness? Jesus, where do I start? [long pause] Believing what I want to believe, even when I know goddamn well it’s not true. How’s that for fucked up? I’ll know something logically in my brain, but the rest of me gets caught up wanting something different to happen, and it’s like I’ve got blinders on. I don’t know, I guess I’m working on it. Trying to, anyway.
When I looked deep into Vanessa’s eyes and asked how we should handle the fact that I want her and she wants me, this was not on my list of expected options.
“A little more salt, you think?” She holds out a spoon dipped in the homemade Caesar dressing she’s been working on for sixteen hours, give or take.
Maybe not that long. It’s probably been ten minutes, but time crawls for a guy who thinks he has a shot at having sex with the hottest girl he’s ever met.
But I’m determined to give her time or space or whatever else she needs, so I lick that spoon like a champ. Vanessa’s eyes flicker a little, filling me with hope I’m not the only one whose mind is in the gutter.
“It’s perfect,” I tell her. “Want to eat?”
She nods and surveys the spread we’ve laid out on her counter. “Burgers, buns, macaroni salad, green salad.” Glancing back at me, she smiles a bit self-consciously. “And all the condiments of course.”
“Your attention to detail is impeccable.”
Still grinning, she thrusts a paper plate into my hands. “Load up. You’re going to need your energy.”
Wait, what? I don’t ask what she means because I don’t dare hope, but yeah…I’m still optimistic about where this is going.
We pile food on our plates, brushing elbows like old friends. Only the sparks crackling between us are not remotely friendly, and I wonder if she feels it, too. By the time we’ve settled at her dining room table, I’m pretty sure my skin is on fire.
“So.” Vanessa clears her throat and spears a leaf of romaine in her salad. “How should we do this?”
I’ve just shoved Caesar salad in my mouth, and it’s all I can do not to choke on a crouton. “Wait,” I wheeze. “What are we talking about here?”
“Sex, of course.” She picks up her glass and takes a sip, then holds it up. “This is water, by the way. Not wine or beer or anything else that could cloud my judgement.”
“Way to plan ahead.” I’m still not sure what’s happening here. “Clever forethought.”
“Or foreplay.” She gives me a sheepish look. “Sorry, is this weird?”
A little, but no way am I saying that out loud. “Not at all.”
“It’s just—I’m trying not to leap without looking, you know?”
“Yeah, of course. It’s smart to talk things through beforehand.” I’m not sure if she’s wanting to talk birth control or hookup spots, but I can roll with it. “Okay, well…how about the bedroom?”
“Clean sheets, check.” She grins and picks up her burger. “Also, condoms.”
“Good. Well, that’s good.” Okay, so that’s settled. I’ve never had this sort of pre-hookup communication, and my mind reels with what else to ask. “Any particular kinks I should be aware of?”
“Not for our first time.” She smiles a little sheepishly as her cheeks color. “I know it’s just a one-night thing, but you can…um…more than once?”
“No pressure.” I take a sip of beer, wondering if I should stick with water. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure I can manage.”
“Excellent.” The grin she gives me shoots straight to my groin. “For the record, I’m generally okay with a little light hair pulling and maybe some dirty talk.”
“Who’s doing the talking and hair pulling?” We should definitely get this out in the open, and also it’s turning me on. “I’m open to either. Just want to make sure I meet your expectations.”
Vanessa takes her time chewing a bite of burger before answering. “Let’s play it by ear. How about you? Any particular turn-ons I should know about?”
You. Everything about you. Your face, your scent, your brains, your smile, the way you eat a hamburger, for crying out loud.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to say that. All of it, the whole big mess. To tell her everything from the light in her eyes to the way she holds her fork gets me hot, but I need to maintain some kind of control. “Ear nibbling,” I admit. “Also the way you touch my face when we’re kissing.”
“Oh, yes.” Her eyes flash, and I can tell this is getting to her, too. “I can definitely do that.”
“Good. Um, right.” I clear my throat, trying to get some blood back into my brain. “All right, anything off-limits?”
“Being called someone else’s name isn’t awesome.”
“Of course.” Shit, has that happened to her? “What else?”
“Let’s see.” She taps her fork with her fingernail, and I wonder if it’s a nervous habit. Like maybe a tell in poker. “I’m not into strangulation or pony play or dressing up in each other’s clothes.”
“Okay, we’re on the same page there.” I start to pick up my burger again, then stop. “But really, I’m pretty open. If there’s something you want…”
“You.” She grins and stabs into her salad. “That’s pretty much it. I want you.”
Electricity zings through me, and I fight to hold it together. “Same. And seriously, if there’s anything special you like, just tell me. Or show me.” Hell, she could ask me to light my hair on fire and say I’m a Roman Candle, and I’d beg for some goddamn matches.
“Okay, so we’re compatible.” She grins. “How about you? Anything in particular you do or don’t like?”
I swallow my macaroni salad before answering. “I can’t stand it when people pet my eyebrows backwards.”
Vanessa bursts out laughing. “This happens to you often?”
“My sisters used to do it to bug me.” I drop my fork and reach out to trace a thumb over her brow line. “See, it feels nice if someone pets your eyebrow in the direction the hair grows.”
“Okay, yeah, I get it.” She flushes under my touch, and I love seeing her react.
I switch directions, stroking my thumb toward the center of her forehead. “But if they go the wrong way—”
“Stop, no, I get it.” She laughs, swatting my hand away. “Okay, I can promise I won’t pet your eyebrows. Not forward or backward or upside down or any way at all.”
I grin and draw my hand back, already missing the feel of her. “Just covering all our bases.”
“Absolutely.” She takes a swallow of water. “Okay, on that note, I’m not a fan of being tied up. I like my hands free for—well, for whatever I might want to touch.”
Any blood remaining in my brain heads south in a big hurry. “I think I can manage to forego bondage this one time.” I swallow back the urge to grab her right fucking now. “Anything else?”
“Uh, well, that thing where guys want women to call them ‘daddy’ or baby-talk in bed?” She shrugs. “Not my thing.”
“Mine, either.” I nod and pick up my burger. “I’m okay with being called Goliath, He-Man, or Waldhar the Wonder Penis Warrior.”
She bursts into laughter, hair falling over her eyes. “Okay, I’ll take She-ra, Your Majesty, or My-God-You’re-The-Hottest-Woman-On-Earth.”
“I can manage that.” Without a touch of irony, I might add. “So, uh…do you want to choreograph positions, or are you open for spontaneity there?”
She’s still smiling, but bright sparks flash in her eyes. It’s clear I’m not the only one who’s aroused by this conversation. “Let’s play it by ear.” She fiddles with the edge of her napkin. “I know this all seems silly, but I like having things out in the open.”
“Not silly at all.” I take a sip of water. “More couples should probably do this before they start taking off their clothes.”
She bites her lip. “I’m not ruining the mood?”
“Honey, I couldn’t be more in the mood if you got naked right now and laid down on my plate.” I move my fork aside. “Here, I’ll make it easy for you.”
She laughs, but there’s hesitation in her eyes. Something telling me there’s more to this little exercise than titillation or consent. “I’ve been thinking about what you said. About running straight from my overbearing mother and into the arms of men who were just as controlling. I’m just—I’m trying not to do that, you know?”
I nod and slip my hand over hers. “I get it. I do.”
God knows I’m trying my best not to repeat mistakes I made with Andrea. Pushing my plate aside, I turn to fully face her. “Look, I won’t pretend whatever happens between us—whatever we decide to do—is going to be all stars and rainbows and angels singing on high.”
She laces her fingers through mine. “Voyeur angels sound creepy anyway.”
I squeeze her hand, wanting to be sure she hears what I’m saying. “First times can be awkward.” I stop, realizing I’m selling myself short. “Look, I can promise I’ll get you off. How’s that for straightforward?”
Her throat moves as she swallows. “That’s…um…promising.”
Maybe I’m being too cocky. I can’t wait to get my hands on her body, but I can do this all night if she needs reassurance. “Whatever you need, Vanessa. If you want to cuddle or make out or—”
“Let’s do it.” She pushes her plate aside and grins.
My heart nearly explodes through my chest. “Really?” I let out a slow breath. “You’re sure.”
“Positive.”
I stand up so fast I knock over my chair, startling Roughneck from his nap on the sofa. I gather up our plates and rush them to the kitchen counter. When I return to the table, Vanessa’s fiddling with the top button on her blouse. “Are you nervous? Because I’m a little bit nervous, but—”
I pull her close and kiss her slow and soft and deep. When I draw back, I look right into her eyes. “I’m not nervous. But we can take this as slow as you like.”
Her eyes flash with hunger. “Not nervous anymore.” She licks her bottom lip. “Kiss me again.”
So I do, taking it slower this time. As my lips touch hers, I thread my fingers through her hair. It’s unbelievably soft, but no match for her mouth. She moans as my tongue grazes hers, pressing her body against mine.
When I draw back this time, we’re both breathless. “Dean,” she breathes. “Take me to bed right now.”
I don’t need another invitation. I take her hand in mine, thankful I know the floor plans for all the cabins. I make a beeline for her bedroom, fighting to keep myself from sprinting. We’ve got all the time to do this right.
Roughneck sighs as we pass him on the couch, resting his head on his paws and regarding us with a look of intense boredom.
There’s a lot I’m feeling right now, but boredom’s not on the list. Excitement. Desire. A little bit of nerves, if I’m being honest. I haven’t been with anyone since Andrea, but I push her out the door of my mind like an unwelcome guest. There’s only room for Vanessa here.
“Oh, good.” She turns to me at the threshold of her door and smiles. “I remembered to make my bed.”
Her bed could be covered in ants right now, and I wouldn’t care. “I’m definitely judging whether you have hospital corners.”
She laughs and pulls me inside. “The bed just arrived a few days ago. It’s really comfortable.”
My mind struggles to stick with the conversation about beds instead of what I want to do on one. “I like your throw pillows.”
“Thanks.” She surveys the rainbow row of them. Square, round, cylindrical, and in every bright color I can imagine.
I expect her to have some ritual for setting them neatly aside, so I’m surprised when she drops back on the bed, grabbing my hand to pull me with her. “Don’t make me wait any more.”
“Me?” I laugh, grateful for the invitation as I ease back on top of her. I’m careful to brace my weight on my elbows, not wanting to crush her.
But Vanessa wraps her legs around my waist and pulls me in tight. “You,” she breathes, kissing the side of my neck. “I’ve wanted you so much.”
“Same.” I murmur it against her throat, kissing a warm, gentle path into the space between her breasts. “You have the softest skin.”
She laughs and draws her hands to the sides of my face. “Kiss me, Dean.”
I move back up, melding my lips with hers. This time, the kiss is urgent and hungry. I try to hold back, but she’s urging me on with her tongue against mine and the soft little moans in the back of her throat.
When she draws back, she’s wild-eyed and panting. “Dean,” she says, thrilling me with the sound of my own name. “God, you’re good at that.”
I laugh and kiss her again. “That’s Goliath,” I say between kisses. “Or He-Man.”
“Or Waldhar the Wonder Penis Warrior?” She giggles, but it turns to a groan as I cup her breast through her shirt. “Oh, God.”
“That works, too.”
I can’t stop kissing her, laying claim to every inch of her flesh. Collarbones, breasts, that narrow trail down her abdomen as I unbutton her blouse and tug it from her skirt. The sight of her lacy pink bra fills me with a fresh wave of desire.
Dropping a kiss into the hollow of her waist, I move to her belly button. I’m fighting to go slow, to give her a chance to catch up.
“Dean. Don’t stop.”
Thank God. Her moan fills my ears as I hike up her skirt and slip between her thighs. There’s a thin strip of lace barely covering her, and she gasps as I hook a finger and slip the fabric aside.
“Please, Dean,” she begs. “I’ll do anything.”
Slowly, I trace the tip of my tongue along her slippery seam. Vanessa cries out and clutches the back of my head. “Yes.”
I smile and lick her again, drawing her clit into my mouth. “I take it this isn’t one of your turnoffs?”
“Don’t stop,” she pants. “Please don’t stop.”
“Wasn’t planning on it.” I lick her again, savoring the honey-sweet slickness. I slip a finger inside, groaning as her tight walls clench around me. “You taste so good.”
“Dean.” There’s an urgency in her voice that wasn’t there a second ago.
I lick her again, feeling her pulse around me. The instant I draw her clit into my mouth, she breaks apart beneath me.
“Oh, God.” She screams, clutching the back of my head. Desire floods my system as I keep licking, keep fucking her with my fingers. She arches way off the bed, and I anchor her in place, wringing every last spasm out of her.
Her screams subside as she comes back down. Roughneck trots in and cocks his head but doesn’t move to join us.
“Go lay down, Buddy,” I tell him. “Everything’s okay.”
He considers that, then flops down in the corner and instantly falls asleep. Vanessa angles up on her elbows. “I was reading to him from this book called Take a Nap, Change Your Life,” she says. “It’s written by a neuroscientist and sleep researcher.”
“Good to see he’s taking it to heart.” I turn back to her. “You okay?”
“More than okay.” She pushes her hair out of her eyes and grins. “Holy God. That was unreal.”
I smile and move up the bed, kissing my way along her body the same way I got down here. She pulls me to her, kissing me deep and soft and hungry. When she breaks the kiss, she’s laughing. “You taste like me.”
“That’s a turn-on,” I tell her, kissing her again. “For the record.”
“Mmm.” She closes her eyes, but her hands have a mind of their own. She’s working my zipper, tugging it down as she shoves my pants down over my hips. It’s a marvel of science that she manages to remove them while I toe off my socks and shoes. She’s already got the condom in her hand, and I don’t bother asking where she grabbed it. I’m just grateful she’s rolling it on, touching and stroking and—
“Need you inside me,” she pants as she pulls me between her thighs. “Please, don’t make me wait.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Still, I hesitate. “This is just to get it out of our systems, right?”
She blinks once, then nods. “Absolutely.” She reaches between us and guides me to her warm center. Her heels press the backs of my thighs, guiding me in.
I groan as I sink into the softest, slickest heat I’ve ever felt. “Vanessa. God.”
She’s so tight, so wet, and for a moment, I forget it might be the only time I’ll ever feel this. I want to feel this a hundred times, a thousand, a million. I want to lose count of all the times I make her cry out and clench around me.
I groan as she angles up against me. “Holy hell.”
The sound she makes is somewhere between a sigh and a moan. “Jesus, Dean.” She opens her eyes and looks deep into mine with a little laugh that turns into a moan. “You’re—uh—big.”
My ego swells as I push into her again. “You’re—uh—hot.”
Her laughter becomes a moan as I slide into her and hit what I’m pretty sure is her G-spot. Our bodies move together like they were made to do this. Like we’ve been careening toward this our whole lives.
My ears start to buzz, and my vision’s going fuzzy. I want to last forever, so I try to slow it down. My brain conjures the least sexy things I can think of. Shareholder expense ratios. The cost analysis of yield to maturity distribution rates. Anything to keep my mind off how good it feels to be inside her right now.
“Dean.”
She says my name on a gasp, and I’m too far gone to joke about Goliath or He-Man or whatever the fuck I said earlier. Her moans, they’re like tiny prayers, and I’ve never felt so much like a God. I’m going under, slipping past the point of no return.
Only once. Just this once.
I close my eyes, reminding myself this can’t last. We’re just getting it out of our systems, gaining closure.
But this doesn’t feel like an ending. It’s the brightest beginning I’ve ever felt, and I don’t know how long I can pretend that’s not true.
She clenches around me, and I know she’s there. “Oh, God!”
Her slick walls spasm with release. I drive in hard as she arches up to meet me. My own orgasm chases hers, barreling along with no brakes. I hear myself shout, though I’ve never been noisy in bed. Something inside me snaps, and I’m gasping and moaning and murmuring words even I can’t grasp.
Slowly, the pleasure recedes. As my vision clears, Vanessa goes slack in my arms. I roll to my side, pulling her against me as I fight to clear my head, my senses, my conscience.
But there’s only one thing that’s clear as Vanessa curls up against me and burrows into my side.
She’s not out of my system. Not even close.