[chapter nineteen]
Disclaimer: If you've heard of them, I don't own them. Everything else is mine, so no stealing, pretty please. ;-)
Rated R: Naughtiness ahead!
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~Jasmine's POV~
I haven't smiled this much in a long time.
Not only did we kill a bottle of wine and some tasty Chinese delivery, but I've just spent the last four hours talking to Jeff about everything from bathroom fixtures to birth control to Bush's policy on the Israeli conflict. Not only that, but I discovered something else.
Jeff Gordon is a nice man. And a smart one.
And not quite the pushover I was expecting.
We got into it about whether there is a God (he says yes, I say no), whether the Packers have a shot at another Super Bowl this year (I say yes, he says no), and if this right to choose an abortion should be government regulated (I say no, he says yes).
I had no idea that Jeff Gordon knew anything more than aero pushes and wedge adjustments.
Of course, what I'm currently finding out is that Jeff Gordon is kinkier than I thought. Or that I've been a very bad influence on him in the last few days.
Mostly, I've come to this conclusion because my hands are tied to his bedposts and he's drizzling oil all over me like it's the most important thing he's ever done.
Talk about concentration.
His brow is wrinkled as he watches the oil splash onto me, and I can't help but squeal when he hits a particularly ticklish spot. He looks up and smiles at me. "Sorry." He whispers, and I laugh.
"S'okay." I reply. "I'm sure you'll make it feel better in a minute."
"Count on it." He grins like a little boy as his hands start to work the oil into my skin, and I purr like a cat as he slides his hands over me. This … feels … good …
Of course, him nibbling on my earlobe also feels good.
And that spot on my neck.
Bastard is going to torture me. I never should have agreed to this when he yanked those rarely-used ties out of his closet and smiled sheepishly, as though asking me without having to say the words.
How can I resist that embarrassed blush in his cheeks?
But who am I to deny him, when he's been such a good sport the last few days every time I've tortured him? Hell, I'm the one that put these thoughts into his head.
Go me.
"Okay?" He whispers in my ear, touching the ties around my wrists gently to make sure he's not hurting me.
"No. Not okay."
"No?" His head snaps up and his eyes meet mine, anguish awash in them. "Are they too … "
"Stop teasing me, Gordon." I growl, closing my eyes and arching my back up to him, trying to entice him into touching me.
His chuckling against my neck just makes me angrier. "After all you've done to me the last few days, I think you owe me a minute or two of teasing."
"All I've done?" I screech and this only serves to make him laugh harder. "One little sex romp in the middle of my street and the christening of your dining room do not equal this!"
He knows I'm teasing him, and he's playing along as he smirks at me.
"And seducing me in my front hall."
"Who seduced who, Mr. Gordon?"
"Be quiet and stop wriggling or I'll leave you here."
I stop moving suddenly. "You wouldn't." I breathe, hoping he's only kidding. That's the one thing that really would scare me. If he just walked out and left me here, tied down.
"No, I wouldn't." He says gently, brushing my hair back from my face. "I couldn't stay away from this. From you."
"Jeff … " I breathe as he slides one hand down my body. "Wait til it's your turn to be tied up."
"I was hoping you would say
that."