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Ouch. “Thanks a lot.” Her tone was dry and teasing and Jos got that. She worked her hips up and down on Eden’s hand, taking the orgasm from her before she barely had a chance to give it. She didn’t want things to be over so fast, for Jos to just go through this mechanically. She wanted more time with her. She wanted to talk to her, but sweet nothings and soft cuddles afterwards didn’t seem like something Jos was willing to go for.
Work with what you have.
“It’s okay, Jos,” Eden dared to say. “It’s okay. You can let me give you this. It’s not going to make the world implode. Let me make you feel good.”
“It’s dangerous,” Jos hissed.
Eden nearly laughed until she realized Jos was serious. “For who? For me? Because we work together?”
Jos wasn’t going to answer her. She didn’t like repeating herself. Eden slipped another finger inside Jos’ tight passage, surprising her, and she gasped.
“That’s right. You’re not the only one who likes to play naughty. I like it too.”
“Fuck, it feels so good.” That was an admission Eden hadn’t expected Jos to make.
She was riding Eden’s hips, riding her hand, with three of Eden’s fingers inside her. Eden thrusted gently, filling her over and over. She was so wet that her fingers slipped in and out easily, messily. She loved the sounds they made together. She used her other hand to run her fingers through Jos’ hair when she shifted, pulling back, throwing her head back. She ran them over her face, touching her, grounding herself, bringing Jos back to her.
“Please kiss me,” Eden whispered. Begging. She knew Jos liked that word. Please. Jos didn’t want to listen to her. She was writhing against her fingers, working her hips. Her breasts swayed so close to Eden’s face, the nipples so tight and pert that they begged to be sucked. Eden did, alternating between each one. She did it roughly, a little vicious, until Jos lowered her head and claimed her mouth instead because the pleasure was more than she could take. Or more than she was willing to take.
Without warning, Jos tore away and stretched out over Eden. She rolled over, pulling her to the side, so that they were face to face. Eden could barely catch her breath. Jos was so beautiful. So sexy. Still so closed off, but she’d take what she could get. Whatever Jos was offering, she would take.
Jos hooked her leg around Eden’s and ground their hips together. Eden gasped at the friction and Jos made a low whimpering sound of pleasure in her throat.
“I need to be inside you,” Eden said as though she was dying. She’d never heard herself sound that way.
“Fuck me, then,” Jos snapped, but the heat was all wrong. She was barely hanging onto her control, Eden realized. “Touch yourself when you fill me up with your fingers.”
It was the hottest thing anyone had ever said to Eden. She complied, slipping two of her fingers inside Jos, then adding a third. She pumped hard and fast, loving the way Jos’ tight walls clamped around her digits even before she came. Eden snaked her hand between her legs and while she created a steady rhythm, thrusting in and out of Jos, slowly at first, then picking up the tempo, she stroked her own clit. She was sensitive from the first orgasm, but not sensitive enough stop. It hurt, but the pain was a good thing. A sweet, feral thing that was growing inside her with every passing second.
Jos was shaking. Eden knew she was holding back, so she worked her harder, setting a punishing rhythm. She did what Jos had done, curling her
thumb over Jos’ clit and pressing down while she pumped her fingers faster and faster until Jos exploded. It startled Eden, the way she cried out, her body tensing, the soft, animal mewls that were torn from her throat as her hips rocked and her legs locked around Eden’s hips. The inner spasms against her fingers were so hot that when Eden circled her own clit again, working it harder, it was only a few seconds before she was hurled into her own orgasm.
She’d thought the last one was good, but this one tore her apart. She was coming with Jos, coming at the same time, their bodies a sticky mess, their hands damp with their come, slipping and sliding and working at each other, crying out their pleasure. This was them, twisted together, skin to fucking skin, and it was beautiful.
Eden wasn’t even halfway to a comedown from that wild, mind-numbing pleasure when she knew she wasn’t just going to leave. She wasn’t just going to quit this. She’d fallen down a hole, a stupid rabbit hole like everyone always said, and there was no climbing back out.
She didn’t even for once consider that it was pathetic that a few orgasms were enough to liquify her into a gooey, aching mass that was crushing as hard on Jos as she had when she was a teenager. Or harder. Because now she’d had the real Jos. She’d seen glimpses of the woman Jos didn’t show to anyone else.
That meant something.
It meant Eden wasn’t going to let go and just walk away.
She was so much more than a few orgasms in too deep. She was just in too deep period.
Chapter 13
Eden
“So what are we if we’re not dating? Because I’m assuming we aren’t going to start dating.” Eden waited until they were both capable of making words and forming actual coherent thoughts before she asked the question.
It was a daring question. Probably too daring. Too much too fast. But she couldn’t chance that Jos would just chase her away again. She couldn’t let her call her a cab and kick her out the door. If she let that happen this time, there was no coming back from it.
“No.” Jos rolled her eyes and rolled away. She lay there, staring at Eden from a few feet across the bed with a look that Eden couldn’t decipher. She wasn’t just walling herself off again. She was, but it was something more than that. Jos was a journalist through and through and she was looking at Eden like she needed to pick her apart to find out whatever story was hiding below.
Eden took a chance. “Then we’re just kind of people who work together and sometimes have sex?”
“No. This isn’t happening again. I mean it. It can’t.” There was less heat. Less certainty. Less of a desire than there should be to push her away, and Eden latched onto it. She’d always believed in being honest, even if it was hard. Even if it felt impossible.
