Garrett
I was beginning to grow weary of Jenna’s lack of progress with Dima. After letting her go off to bed, I sat down at my desk in the corner of the living room and started digging through my names and notes to see what other options I had to try to extract information from the stubborn ass Russian.
I knew we could torture him for information. Even if it didn’t work, it would have at least been satisfying; but even if it did work, we wouldn’t know because no one knew how to speak Russian. Except for good-girl Jenna.
I was beginning to think she’d been right to begin with, that I should have found someone else in the city to help us translate what we got out of Dima. I certainly could have found someone else with more flexible morals who wouldn’t balk at more aggressive tactics like torture.
I smiled at the thought of finding a more open minded translator and relieving Jenna of her responsibilities to the MC. That would give me the opportunity to actually pursue her. For now, I was stuck having to wait until we were finished with Dima to see if I still felt like trying to seduce her. I really didn’t know how much longer I could hold myself back from her.
Even knowing that she was sleeping in my bed while I was sitting out at my desk was stirring my desire for her. Even as I looked over the other names I’d gathered and my other contacts, I couldn’t shake the image of her petite, curvy body lying supine on my bed with the thin sheets draped over her, falling along the lines of her delicious curves.
She waited for me to come seduce her, to take her forcefully on my soft, clean sheets. I’d seen it in her eyes. She wasn’t letting on, but I could see the desire growing deep in her eyes like a fire. She lay on my bed alone with that desire, and I was sitting at my desk trying to find a way to relieve her of her duty so I could have her with no worries, no conflict of interest.
I stood and crumpled the piece of paper in my hand, dropping onto the floor and leaning against my desk. My desire for her was becoming unbearable. Every time I saw her, it grew. Every time I thought about her beautiful golden brown hair or her lively, inquisitive green eyes, my desire flared up within me.
I had to have her, I decided.
I turned away from my desk, ready to go into my room and take the beautiful, mousy professor lying in my bed, when I saw her standing in the hallway looking at me.
Her golden brown hair was down, hanging around her shoulders, and she wore a nightgown sheer enough that I could see she wore nothing underneath it. My desire sprang to life immediately, growing harder by the second for her, hungrier for her. I needed her body in my arms, underneath me, letting me penetrate deep inside her.
“Are you okay?” she asked, and in the stillness of my apartment her voice sounded like it was right in my ear.
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t answer. If I said anything, I would tell her how much I wanted her. I would tell her that I wanted to please her and show her what she’d been missing all these years by burying herself in her work.
Now still didn’t seem like the right time.
She stepped towards me, almost floating across the living room like a ghost or an angel with her sheer nightgown flowing all around her. She suddenly stood in front of me, our bodies mere inches apart. My breath caught in my chest as my desire choked me.
“What are you doing?” she asked with such sweet curiosity that her voice only added to the unreal sense of what was happening.
“I’m, um, I’m working,” I told her, reaching behind my back and pushing the papers back into the corner of my desk.
She tried to glance around me to the desk.
“What are all those names?” she asked.
I really didn’t want to talk about work right now, or Dima. I wanted to talk about her, about Jenna, and that divine body begging for my hands and lips to touch it through her nightgown.
“Are you trying to replace me?” She stepped back and it was over. The moment was gone.
My desire-tense body relaxed. I ran my hands over my face. There was no denying it now. I’d been caught red-handed. “Yes,” I admitted. “I’m looking for someone else who can help me get some information out of Dima.”
“Let me guess. You want someone more aggressive,” she accused me, hitting the nail right on the head.
“I don’t know if that’s necessarily what I want,” I lied to her. “But I feel like you’re hiding things from me,” I finally admitted to her, getting it off my chest. “I feel like there are things you don’t share.”
“You fucking bastard,” she hissed, still stepping away from me. The betrayal written all over her face was painful to see, more painful to know I was the one betraying her. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt her. “Dima was right about you,” she yelled.
“Whoa, what?” I held up my hands, completely blindsided by her comment.
“He tried to tell me you were just using me, but I didn’t want to believe him.” Tears streamed down her face. She gripped her nightgown as she sobbed and cried out to me.
I wanted to grab her and pull her against me. I wished I could soothe her heartache. I was supposed to be the one trying to seduce her, not trying to stab her in the back, which was exactly what I was doing. There was no denying it.
“I told him he was wrong,” she continued. “I told him he didn’t know what he was talking about. I told myself he was just trying to confuse me. But no. I see now that he was right about you. You’re a monster!”
Her voice started cracking and growing louder. Soon, the neighbors would hear her screaming at me. I didn’t want that. In my line of business, drawing attention of any sort was usually a bad thing, and I didn’t need cops knocking on my door in the middle of the night to figure out the details of a domestic abuse accusation.
I approached her with my hands up, trying to catch her wrists. She started flailing her arms at me, landing a few hits on my shoulders and my chest before I was able to grip her and start pushing her back into the bedroom where we could talk.
“Get off me,” she fussed, almost growling in her rage.
“Jenna, please,” I said calmly. “Calm down so we can talk about whatever is bothering you.”
“No. Let. Me. Go.” She pushed against me with her wrists. “I mean it, Garrett. I’m done.”
I pushed her into the bedroom and pinned her against the wall.
“What are you doing?” she hissed.
“I’m trying to subdue you, Jenna. You’re acting crazy. You need to calm down,” I tried to convince her.
“You need to calm down,” she yelled in my face.
Holding her against the wall by her wrists, I pressed myself against her. The fighting and yelling was even turning me on for her. I pushed my body hard against her, holding her against the wall.
Even though she was still growling and spitting at me, when she felt the desire growing for her in my jeans, she spread her legs and rocked her hips against me, moaning as she rubbed herself along my growing erection.
I took both of her petite wrists in one hand above her head and wrapped my fingers under her chin, squeezing her mouth and pulling her to me for a kiss. Our lips met for the first time, and I could feel her body melt against the wall. Our mouths worked together, in unison, as our tongues darted out, furiously tangling and wrestling with each other.
I let go of her hands, and she wrapped her arms around my neck. I grabbed her hips and pulled her against me, really driving myself against her body. She moaned into my mouth. She rocked her hips against me, harder, more furiously.
Then, just as suddenly as it had all started, she shoved me away.
“Stay away from me,” she hissed. “I can’t believe you.”
She pointed a finger at me, holding me in my place as she backed through the doorway and started down the hall to the living room. But I wasn’t about to let her get away from me. I reached out and grabbed her wrist, pulling her back.
Jenna turned and shot me a painful, stabbing look with her fiery eyes.
“I can’t believe you. Dima’s right about you. You’re just using me, just like you’re using him. You’re going to kill us both when you’re done.”
I let go and stepped back from her. “What are you talking about? Kill you? Are you out of your mind?”
“No, Garrett. I was out of my mind when I agreed to help you, and when I agreed to let you hold me here against my will,” she snapped.
I grabbed her and pulled her to me. “Listen to me,” I told her.
“No, you listen to me,” she retorted. “I’m getting a cab and leaving. I’m going home. If you even so much as think about me, I will have your thug biker ass arrested so fast your head will spin.”
My need for her surged, growing painfully hard against my jeans, screaming to reach out and get to her.
“No, you’re not,” I told her, turning around and throwing her down on the bed.
I stood over her and pulled off my belt, letting it dangle from my hand like I was about to whip her with it, just long enough to hold her attention.
“You’re going to listen to what I have to tell you.”
She looked at the belt, then at me with worry in her eyes, reminding me that no matter how furious our passion felt, she was not anything like the women I was normally with. I dropped my belt, not liking the look in her eyes as she thought I was about to beat her.
“You shouldn’t listen to Dima. He’s going to try to get you to set him free, but the moment he’s not tied down, he’s going to attack you. He will rape you in a heartbeat, and then he’ll kill you before running off,” I explained to her.
The thought of bending her over the little wooden table in that room and having my way with her caused me to twitch in my pants. I pulled my shirt off over my head and dropped my jeans to the floor. I climbed onto the bed on top of her.
“I’m not going to let that happen to you,” I told her.
Her petite hands brushed over my arms, welcoming me down on top of her.
I leaned down and whispered in her ear, “I’m not going to let anything happen to you, and you should know I would never do anything to hurt you.”
I pressed myself down against her nightgown between her legs, feeling the heat from between her legs inviting me into her.
She reached down with those little hands and wrapped her fingers around the bottom of her nightgown, raising her legs and the fabric to open herself to me.
I reached down and ran a finger along the tight, delicate, hairless folds of skin between her thin legs. I pressed in and felt her juices gathering for me. I rubbed my finger along the inside of her lips, spreading her around, getting her nice and wet to accept me.
She moaned and arched her back.
It was time. If I didn’t take the chance tonight, I knew it would miss it.