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Jenny was awake, curled onto her side, staring out the window at the view. She was so pretty, it almost hurt to look at her. Her dirty blond curls tumbled over the bed. Her face, round, smooth, and open, was relaxed as she watched the harbor. Her lips were full and pillowy, just begging to be kissed. I dropped my towel and climbed into bed next to her, snuggling against her warm skin. She smelled like me and also like her coconut body spray. “I’m very partial to coconuts, you know.”
“Yeah?” She laughed and played with my hair, still staring out the window. “That’s good, because you know I love my spray.”
“What’re you looking at, huh? The harbor?”
Jenny nodded. “It’s a real pretty view, Cole. Real pretty.”
“I know.” I contentedly sighed as she played with my hair. It was such a relief to be with someone that I could bemyselfwith. Jenny didn’t have any expectations of me. I’d hired her as my date. That made it simple. I could be myself and not worry about anything. Usually, the women I dated all wanted somethingfrom me—an engagement ring, a fancy dinner, a connection, being included in some stupid social media post. But Jenny and I were simple. We were a transaction, and that made it easy to navigate. I was good at deals. People—women, in particular—were much more complicated.
But not Jenny. Hanging out with her was relaxing, a far cry from how I usually felt with women after I slept with them. I was always ready to leave—or rather, to kick them out. But I was positively gleeful that Jenny would be in my bed for the next two weeks.
I stretched out, relishing the feel of her bare skin against mine.
She skimmed her hands down my chest, absentmindedly running her fingers over my muscles. The touch of her skin against mine was electric. It started getting hot again. My cock stirred, rising to attention, and I groaned. “You might have to stop touching me. We’ll never make it to drinks.”
“Aw, Cole,” she teased, hands roaming lower, “you worried about time? We can do it quick, real quick. That’s why they call it a ‘quickie’!”
She laughed, and I rolled on top of her, all thoughts of my father’s texts slipping away. Instead, I put my mouth on Jenny’s, tasting her delicious tongue, running my hands down her smooth, smooth skin. I inhaled deeply, the heady smell of coconuts engulfing my senses.
We couldn’t literally have sex every five minutes for the next two weeks…could we?
Jenny ran her nails down my back to my ass, which she cupped as she positioned me next to her sex. Heat surged through me, making my whole body tingle, embers catching fire. I wanted her. Again. I wanted to make her come. Again. When was the last time I truly gave a fuck about somebody’s orgasm other than my own?
Never, said the voice in my head. I ignored it, even though it was right.
I palmed her sex as I readied her for me. She was wet again, so wet. It made my heart swell with pride.
“Right there, baby,” she cooed, bucking against my hand. “I like that.”
I kept rubbing her clit as I notched myself inside her again. Jenny sighed with either pleasure or happiness, I couldn’t tell. I didn’t know anything other than the fact that we were together again, in bed, naked, and it was the best thingever.
So…Couldwe have sex every five minutes for the next two weeks?
It seemed I was about to find out.
Jenny askedme to pick out a dress for the event while she showered. I looked through the clothes she’d packed, but none of them were pretty enough. Some of them were nice, even with designer labels. But none of them were quite right. Jenny deserved the best.
I called Shirley, and God bless her, she picked up on the first ring. “Drop whatever it is you’re doing. I have a code-red assignment for you.”
“I’m organizing the office for theForbesphoto shoot!” Shirley sounded out of breath. “I thoughtthatwas code red!”
“This is code-red-red.” I chuckled. “I need you to go to Saks ASAP. I need a sexy black dress, size six, preferably Givenchy. My date will look good in Givenchy.”
“Date?Date?”
I couldn’t see Shirley, but I pictured her clapping a hand over her heart.
“That’s right.” I grinned. “Her name’s Jenny, and she’swickednice. So get her a great dress, okay? I want her to feel comfortable at this party tonight.”
“Yes, Mr. Bryson! Right away!”
I felt like Santa Claus by the time I hung up the phone. I’d made Shirley happy; I was going to make Jenny happy. Then I remembered that I had another call to make, and I started feeling like The Grinch instead.
“Hey, Ramos. It’s Cole Bryson.”
“I know who it is! You’re in my contacts list,” Ramos said easily. “What’s up?”
“I need a favor.”