All Work And No Play.... Julie Cohen
debts.’
‘Yes.’ He let out a long breath, and smiled at her. Not the million-watt model smile, but a dimmer, sadder one. ‘It feels good to tell you about it. Thom doesn’t know. Nobody knows. My mother thinks I’ve suddenly developed a love of having my photograph taken.’
She squeezed his hand. ‘I know what it’s like to keep a secret,’ she said. ‘It shouldn’t be hard, because all you have to do is keep your mouth shut and act normal. But it is.’
She thought about the past few days at work, seeing Gary, knowing what had happened between them, and pretending that everything was all right.
‘It feels better once you’ve told somebody,’ she said, remembering the relief she’d felt typing her problems to Jonny.
He turned his hand over so he was clasping hers. ‘It feels better now I’ve told you.’
Why me? she was about to ask, and then she looked from their clasped hands to his face. There was warmth in his eyes, gentleness and earnestness in his mouth, and every line was familiar in that unexpected way.
This intimacy had been between them since they’d first seen each other, and although Jane couldn’t explain it, she couldn’t deny it, either.
Instead she bit her lip and nodded.
‘You’re so beautiful, Jane,’ Jay murmured, his dark blue eyes still looking into hers. The air around them thickened, time seemed to slow even though her pulse sped up. He was so close, she was sharing every breath he took.
Jonny’s words swam into her mind. He’d described this moment. And then he’d described what could happen afterwards.
She could have her mouth on this man’s mouth, his hands on her, lifting her up so she could wrap her legs around his waist, pushing her clothing aside so he could enter her. Fast and hard and breathless.
The idea, the imagined feeling, throbbed inside her.
She didn’t know Jay. And she didn’t know if the way he made her feel was just part of his natural charm, a normal reaction of every female to his looks and his behaviour.
But she did know she wanted him. And he appeared to want her, too.
She had been engaged for eight months and had never felt even remotely this turned on. And after the hell of the past few days, after the habit and hard work of the past few years, this seemed too miraculous not to seize with both hands.
Jane lifted her free hand to Jay’s face. She touched his left cheekbone and ran her fingertips down over his skin, over the place where his smile dug grooves in his cheek, close to the side of his mouth. His skin was smooth and almost shockingly warm. He tilted his head slightly, as if to press her fingers closer.
‘I don’t think I want dinner,’ she said, and heard that her voice had become husky.
‘Me neither.’
They stood at the same time, their hands still clasped. Jay dropped a note on the table and they walked out of the bar together, saying nothing. Jane was aware of every part of her body: the way her high heels made her hips sway, the brushing of her bare thighs together under her dress, the soft material of her skirt against her legs, the way her breasts moved slightly as she walked. Her fingers, twined with Jay’s, which were long and strong and sinewy.
She was aware of his body, too. He moved easily but she sensed urgency in his movements. He held her hand tight and kept her close so that her shoulder and hip grazed against him two or three times as they threaded through the tables. She could even sense his breathing, rapid and shallow.
He was about six inches taller than she was, even while she was wearing heels. She would have to stand on her tiptoes to kiss him.
Jay pushed open the bar door and as soon as they were outside on the pavement Jane tugged him to one side, turned, and grabbed the lapel of his suit with her free hand to pull him towards her.
‘Great idea,’ he murmured, and she felt his strong arm curl around her waist and hold her close against him while she was standing up on her tiptoes, reaching with her mouth for his.
It was like no other kiss she had ever had in her life. His lips were warm and fitted against her mouth perfectly and they felt so new, strange and right. For a moment their mouths just pressed together and Jane felt as if she had taken a giant leap forward into a whole different world.
And then it was hunger. Jane tore her hands from his grip and his suit and grasped his head with both hands, burying her fingers in his soft, short hair and pulling him closer. Her mouth moved with his and the kiss changed from static to frantic. He nudged her lips open and she touched the hot, slippery tip of his tongue. She heard herself groan in her throat and that seemed to urge Jay on because he pulled her tighter and kissed her harder.
She slid her hands down his neck and gripped his broad shoulders. Somewhere in the back of her mind she remembered Jonny’s description of kissing on the pavement, touching every bit of flesh that was possible, and she slipped the fingers of one hand between the buttons of his shirt. His chest was smooth and firm and his heartbeat hammered under his ribs and muscle.
It wasn’t enough. With her other hand she pulled at his shirt at the back under his jacket. She tugged it out of his suit waistband and spread her hand against the small of his back, moulding it to his muscle and feeling the strength of his spine.
‘Jane,’ Jay muttered roughly into her mouth, closing his teeth gently on her top lip and then kissing it before he dipped his head to kiss her neck. He still held her up against him with one arm, but the other hand stroked up her back and came round to rest on her throat and collar-bone. The tips of his fingers just edged beneath the neckline of her dress and she felt his chin and mouth underneath her ear, downwards onto the base of her neck. She could feel everywhere that he wasn’t touching, the inches of skin between his hand and where her breast began. His tongue tasted her and she shuddered and let her head fall back to give him better access.
People were walking past, they were in the centre of Chelsea, but she didn’t care, because she had never felt this free before. Jane closed her eyes and shut out London. She concentrated on this man, who knew just how to touch her and what she wanted, who seemed more full of passion than any man she had ever met.
Strength and sinew. Her body was pressed full-length against him; his leg between her thighs, his arm wrapped round her. The rigid length of his erection against her belly told her he wanted her as much as she did him.
But beneath his ardent kisses, the clasp of his hands and the rapid pace of his breathing she could sense a tenderness in his embrace. His hands were careful. His lips were gentle even when devouring her. Quite unexpectedly, she thought of the words he had used to describe how his father had treated his mother: he adored her.
She felt sexy, and adored.
Jane opened her eyes, suddenly desperate to look at Jay and see the expression on his face as he kissed her. She straightened her head, and blinked as she realised she was looking straight into the lens of a camera.
Click.
‘Um—we’re being watched,’ she said, her voice unsteady. Jay stopped kissing her and straightened, still holding her tight.
The camera clicked again. It was held by a man dressed in an anorak and shorts, wearing a floppy hat and carrying an orange backpack. Jane took in the street for the first time and noticed a group of people just past them, all carrying identical backpacks and cameras.
Tourists. And it seemed that she and Jay were suddenly a major attraction.
‘Excuse me, mate,’ Jay said, ‘but do you mind?’
The man lowered his camera. ‘You don’t see that in Oklahoma City,’ he said, apparently by way of explanation, and walked off after the rest of his group.
Jane tilted back her head to look at Jay’s face. He was watching the man retreat, incredulity in his features. He glanced