Page 15 of Curious Hearts (The Healing Hearts #2)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Ali drove home on autopilot, her body humming with an energy she couldn’t dispel. Every time she shifted gears, she remembered Jessica’s arms around her, the press of silk against her skin, that soft intake of breath against her ear.

Professional boundaries, she reminded herself, but the mantra felt pathetic against the heat pooling low in her belly.

She fumbled with her keys at the front door, hands unsteady. Chairman Meow greeted her with his usual disdain, sniffing at the unfamiliar scents clinging to her dress.

“Not now,” she told him, kicking off her heels. “I need a shower. A very cold shower.”

But in her bedroom, Ali found herself frozen in front of the mirror. The woman staring back looked flushed, pupils dilated, lips still tingling from where she’d bitten them during dinner to keep from staring too openly at Jessica.

She unzipped the blue dress slowly, letting it fall at her feet. The silk had felt different against her skin all evening, sensitive to every shift and movement. She remembered catching Jessica’s eyes tracking the neckline when she’d leaned forward to pass the wine.

Stop it, she told herself firmly. She’s straight. She’s your client. And even if she were into women, she’s so far out of your league you’re not even playing the same sport.

Ali stepped into the shower, turning the water to cool. It did nothing to lower the temperature under her skin. If anything, the shock made her more aware of her body, every nerve ending alive and wanting.

She gave up and turned the dial, letting hot water cascade over her, eyeing the detachable showerhead.

Jessica’s elegant fingers wrapped around her wine glass, the way her throat had moved when she swallowed, came to mind.

This is such a bad idea, the rational part of her brain insisted. But her body had already decided.

Ali unhooked the head from its mount, adjusting the settings to a concentrated stream. She’d discovered this particular pleasure during those long months when Amy had been distant and she’d been too exhausted to pursue anything else.

She spread her legs wider, bracing one hand against the cool tile wall. With the other, she directed the pulsing water between her thighs, gasping as it hit her clit with just the right amount of pressure.

“Fuck,” she breathed, angling the stream slightly to find the exact spot that made her knees weak. The water was relentless, steady in a way fingers could never be, and she imagined it was Jessica’s tongue instead—focused, deliberate, learning exactly what made her fall apart.

Ali’s hips rocked forward, chasing the sensation. She pictured Jessica on her knees in front of her, those dark eyes looking up at her with hungry intensity, water streaming over her naked body as she worked Ali with that same single-minded focus she brought to everything else.

The pressure built quickly, her thighs trembling as she held the showerhead steady. She was close, so close, when the fantasy shifted—Jessica standing, pressing her against the wall, fingers replacing the water as she whispered against Ali’s ear, “I’ve wanted this since the first time I saw you.”

“Jessica,” Ali cried out as the orgasm crashed over her, her body convulsing against the wall. The showerhead slipped from her grip, dangling and spraying wildly as she allowed her body to ride out the waves of pleasure.

She slumped against the wall, legs shaking, water beating against her over sensitized flesh until she finally found the strength to turn it off. She stood there panting, trying to process the intensity of what she’d just experienced.

“Fuck,” she whispered to the tiles. “I am so screwed.”

She sat on the shower floor until her breathing steadied, but the truth was unavoidable: masturbating to thoughts of Jessica Taylor wasn’t going to get her out of her system. If anything, it had only made the wanting worse.

Ali finally dragged herself out of the shower, wrapping herself in a towel. In the mirror, she looked debauched—flushed cheeks, eyes heavy with satisfaction and lingering desire.

Her phone buzzed on the dresser. Jessica.

Home safely? Thank you again for tonight. I keep thinking about the evening.

Ali stared at the message, heat flooding through her again. I keep thinking about... Was she reading too much into that?

She typed back: All good here. Just got out of the shower. Glad I could be there.

Three dots appeared immediately. I meant what I said. It would have been unbearable without you.

Ali’s pulse quickened. Your parents aren’t that bad.

Trust me they were on good behavior tonight. But thank you again. I’m looking forward to our next session.

Just the thought of Jessica Taylor looking forward to seeing her again made her body thrum with renewed arousal. She let her towel fall completely, sliding naked between the sheets. Her hand drifted down again, finding herself wet still, in need.

This was so wrong on so many levels but the thought of touching Jessica…

Jessica touching her… She let out a moan, her fingers circling her clit, already sensitive from the shower.

She imagined Jessica next to her naked, finally letting that rigid control of hers slip.

Would she be precise and methodical or would she surprise her with her complete wanton abandon?

“Fuck,” Ali gasped, slipping two fingers inside herself. She was so wet, so ready. In her mind, it was Jessica’s fingers, Jessica’s mouth, Jessica coming apart just as desperately.

She came hard and fast, back arching off the bed, Jessica’s name echoing around the room.

As she lay panting, her body tired yet oddly still vibrating from pleasure, she tried to tear herself away from Jessica, her dark eyes, her perfect brown skin…

Don’t be an idiot, she told herself. Remember what happened with Amy. You can’t afford to go there again. Your mental health can’t afford to go there again, dammit.

Her phone buzzed once more. A single text from Jessica: :)

Such a simple thing—just an emoji. But Ali grinned at her phone like a lovesick teenager. Screw it, she thought. Maybe some disasters are worth risking.