Page 41 of Hot for the Jerk

I swallowed again, but nodded.

He gave me a curt nod, took my hand, and led me back to the bed.“Lay down.Pants and panties off.”

“I—”

His brow lifted.“If you want this, I’ll need you to be naked from the waist down.”

My heart threatened to beat clear out of my chest as my fingers fumbled and shook in an attempt to hook into my waistband.

“There’s no need to be nervous,” he said.“You’re supposed to enjoy this.”He came over, placed one knee into the bed and grabbed the bottoms of my loose pajama pants, then, like a waiter removing a tablecloth without disturbing the fine crystal, he yanked them off my legs in one quick tug, leaving me in just my panties.

I gasped, which only made his smile grow wider.“I have many tricks up my sleeve, Rosebush.”

Swallowing, and more aroused than ever, I tracked him as he crossed the room and went to the bathroom, washed his hands and returned.

“Light on or off?”he asked.

Fuck.

A part of me really wanted to watch.After all, that was my porn of choice, but also, I wasn’t sure I could handle seeing him down there.I might get too into my head and never get off.I didn’t expect to get off anyway, but a girl could dream.Maybe it would be easier this first time if I didn’t watch him.

First time?Are you planning to make a habit of this?

“Elsa?”he asked, rocking me out of my internal argument.“Light on or off?”

“On!”I blurted out.

He nodded and left the lantern on, dimming it just a little more, then he climbed back onto the bed.His hooded gaze raked me from my face down to my toes, widening just a touch when his scan paused on my simple burgundy briefs.

All I could hear was my pulse raging in my ears as tingles of desire and worry zipped through me.Goosebumps rose across my bare thighs, even though the room wasn’t particularly cold.

“Would you like to remove your underwear, or should I?”he asked, his voice a raspy timber that made my nipples tighten.

“I … you … um …”

“How about we do it like the last puzzle piece, hmm?Together.”

I nodded and, with shaky hands, reached for the top of my underwear.His enormous hands fell over top of mine and together, we removed the thin scrap of fabric.

I chewed on my bottom lip, unable to look directly at him as his gaze drifted down to the small patch of trimmed hair between my legs.

No, I wasn’t a waxer, or a shaver.I used a trimmer and kept a neat little landing strip—not that any man had ever landed there.When I was with Josiah, I was expected to have a full red bush of fire because only sluts, whores, and harlots groomed their genitals.The fire crotch was one of the first things to go when he died.Not that I had a problem with pubic hair in general.You do you.I had a problem with being controlled.However, after trying every variation from Brazilian bald, to tidy triangle, I realized I liked a bit of hair.Just a tidy strip.That was me.

Sucking in a deep breath, I held it while he lifted his gaze back to my face with agonizing slowness.“Be your bossy self, okay?”

I blinked.

“Don’t pretend you like something when you don’t.Tell me to stop, or keep going.Or do something else.You are in control here.Not me.I am … yours to use.”

Yours to use.

Oooh, there he went with that lopsided smirk again.He had to know the effect it had on women.On me.He wasn’t an idiot.I’m sure I was blushing.My pupils were probably dilated when he said that, and I was panting like a dog in a hot car—minus my tongue hanging out.But give it time.

I blinked some more.

“If at any point you don’t want to do this anymore, just say ‘stop’ and I’ll stop.Okay?There’s no need for some kooky safe word or anything.Stop will do just fine.”

More blinking.

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