heightened. The rest came easy. It was empowering to have a younger, big, buff, alpha male hanging on her every word, to do her sexual bidding. Hers to command.
A mindless, boneless, bundle of contentment, she rested dreamily in the crook of his well-defined, tanned arm, one hand caressing his belly.
“That was one hell of a ride, Jessie Rose.” His voice, languid and deep, slid over her like warm brandy custard over Christmas pudding.
“And you’re one hell of a Cowboy.” She snuggled into his side, her voice soft, muffled, and drowsy.
Whip kissed the tip of her nose and eased her out of his arms. “I’m going to get rid of this condom,” he explained.
“Ah-huh.” She felt his fingers skim her left breast, pause at the center, and tweak. Her eyes snapped open. The rough calluses on his hands felt wonderful on her sensitive nubs. “That feels exquisite. Like moonbeams dancing on a silver sea or misty rain on a hot summer’s day.”
“That’s the first time my fingers have ever been likened to moonbeams. Must be the romance writer coming out in you.” He chuckled, rising from the mattress.
“You inspire me.” She fluttered her eyelashes, rolled onto her other side, and demanded, “Just hurry back Cowboy, I need some more personal attention.”
“Whatever you say, honey. I’m yours to command.”
When Whip re-entered the room, it wasn’t a great surprise to see Jessie Rose had fallen asleep. He’d flown to the States on business a number of times, and the East Coast was a real slog, particularly when you had to change planes in LAX and wait for connecting flights. Combine that with all their exercise, no wonder she’d dropped off. He didn’t have the heart to wake her. Instead, he drew the cover up over her, filled the electric jug with water, and waited for it to boil. Next he made a cup of tea, helped himself to a couple of the complimentary biscuits, and began to read.
Jessie Rose was still in The Land of Nod when he closed his book a couple of hours later, and that was fine, but after having sat still for so long he was restless and thought perhaps a quick walk around the city might be good. A glance out the window showed thin streams of silvery water streaking the panes in rivulets so that idea got shelved.
He smelled like sex, and although the aroma was inoffensive, he decided to head for the shower and freshen up. Besides, the football would be starting soon and with a bit of luck he’d be able to catch some on the television.
When he emerged from the bathroom twenty minutes later, he dressed in clean clothes and settled on the bed next to Jessie Rose. Still asleep and looking adorable, he toyed with waking her but then figured she must need the sleep so switched on the set and turned the volume to low.
It was the NRL grand final and he’d been looking forward to it all season. When Jessie Rose e-mailed her flight dates, he’d thought what the hell, it’s only a game. After they’d had sex, he thought the gods were pleased with him. But now with the game started, and Jessie Rose still sleeping, that confirmed it, he was definitely in heaven’s good books.
But Ten minutes into the second half with his team one point down and him on tenterhooks, Jessie Rose woke up.
An unfamiliar buzz tugged at Jessica’s subconscious. She stirred, yawned, and, lithe as a cat, stretched, rolling onto her back as she did. Her eyelids fluttered open. Disoriented for the briefest second, she blinked rapidly, then awareness hit her like a flash flood. She was in a Sydney hotel room with her Internet lover, and they’d just had the most exquisite sex.
“Hi, sleepyhead. For someone who wasn’t tired, you sure went out like a light.”
“Sorry.” More than a little self-conscious, she rolled to her side and draped her arm across his waist. “How long was I asleep for?”
Hair damp and now dressed in chinos and a white button-down shirt, Whip was leaning up against the headboard watching sport.
A mindless, boneless, bundle of contentment, she rested dreamily in the crook of his well-defined, tanned arm, one hand caressing his belly.
“That was one hell of a ride, Jessie Rose.” His voice, languid and deep, slid over her like warm brandy custard over Christmas pudding.
“And you’re one hell of a Cowboy.” She snuggled into his side, her voice soft, muffled, and drowsy.
Whip kissed the tip of her nose and eased her out of his arms. “I’m going to get rid of this condom,” he explained.
“Ah-huh.” She felt his fingers skim her left breast, pause at the center, and tweak. Her eyes snapped open. The rough calluses on his hands felt wonderful on her sensitive nubs. “That feels exquisite. Like moonbeams dancing on a silver sea or misty rain on a hot summer’s day.”
“That’s the first time my fingers have ever been likened to moonbeams. Must be the romance writer coming out in you.” He chuckled, rising from the mattress.
“You inspire me.” She fluttered her eyelashes, rolled onto her other side, and demanded, “Just hurry back Cowboy, I need some more personal attention.”
“Whatever you say, honey. I’m yours to command.”
When Whip re-entered the room, it wasn’t a great surprise to see Jessie Rose had fallen asleep. He’d flown to the States on business a number of times, and the East Coast was a real slog, particularly when you had to change planes in LAX and wait for connecting flights. Combine that with all their exercise, no wonder she’d dropped off. He didn’t have the heart to wake her. Instead, he drew the cover up over her, filled the electric jug with water, and waited for it to boil. Next he made a cup of tea, helped himself to a couple of the complimentary biscuits, and began to read.
Jessie Rose was still in The Land of Nod when he closed his book a couple of hours later, and that was fine, but after having sat still for so long he was restless and thought perhaps a quick walk around the city might be good. A glance out the window showed thin streams of silvery water streaking the panes in rivulets so that idea got shelved.
He smelled like sex, and although the aroma was inoffensive, he decided to head for the shower and freshen up. Besides, the football would be starting soon and with a bit of luck he’d be able to catch some on the television.
When he emerged from the bathroom twenty minutes later, he dressed in clean clothes and settled on the bed next to Jessie Rose. Still asleep and looking adorable, he toyed with waking her but then figured she must need the sleep so switched on the set and turned the volume to low.
It was the NRL grand final and he’d been looking forward to it all season. When Jessie Rose e-mailed her flight dates, he’d thought what the hell, it’s only a game. After they’d had sex, he thought the gods were pleased with him. But now with the game started, and Jessie Rose still sleeping, that confirmed it, he was definitely in heaven’s good books.
But Ten minutes into the second half with his team one point down and him on tenterhooks, Jessie Rose woke up.
An unfamiliar buzz tugged at Jessica’s subconscious. She stirred, yawned, and, lithe as a cat, stretched, rolling onto her back as she did. Her eyelids fluttered open. Disoriented for the briefest second, she blinked rapidly, then awareness hit her like a flash flood. She was in a Sydney hotel room with her Internet lover, and they’d just had the most exquisite sex.
“Hi, sleepyhead. For someone who wasn’t tired, you sure went out like a light.”
“Sorry.” More than a little self-conscious, she rolled to her side and draped her arm across his waist. “How long was I asleep for?”
Hair damp and now dressed in chinos and a white button-down shirt, Whip was leaning up against the headboard watching sport.
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