Firecracker

Assumptions

I laugh and move backwards across the floor, unbuttoning my jeans and pulling my tank over my head as I go. When I am only left in my bra and panties, I climb onto my bed and crook a finger at Jackson, who has been watching my progress with hooded eyes whilst shedding his clothes. He hesitates for the merest of seconds before striding over and pushing me down onto my back. His lips travel the length of my torso before he slips his fingers beneath the waistband of my lacy knickers. Before I can process what he is doing, Jackson pushes his fingers through the delicate fabric, ripping them to shreds. He tears them off my body before dropping them on the floor and then sliding his cool fingers between the hot, wet lips of my p***y.

As Jackson swirls his fingers across my clit, I am so turned on that I feel like I am about to combust at any given moment. Without rational thought, my body takes over, and I find myself pushing my hips down onto Jackson’s digits, trying to find some relief from the sensations rolling through my body in waves. Wordlessly, Jackson dips his head between my thighs, and then I feel it; his hungry tongue laves me, licking me in strong strokes from the rosette of my arse to my clit, before nibbling on it gently. I cry out as my orgasm slams into me, the jolts of electricity firing right through my core into every nerve ending in my body.

Yet it doesn’t stop there. Jackon’s deft fingers dip inside of me, finding my sweet spot and drawing out my release as my body turns to molten lava. I writhe and scream under his attention, begging for Jackson to stop and give me some relief from the overwhelming sensations. But instead, he only breaks away for a moment, to sheath his once-again-erect c**k in a condom, before plunging into me. Setting up a punishing rhythm, Jackson slams into me deeper and deeper until I am not sure where he ends, and I begin. I feel the muscles in my pelvis tightening, and then, as Jackson pinches my clit, I go supernova as fireworks explode in both my body and my head.

I am vaguely aware of Jackson grunting as he finds his own release before pulling out of me gently. I lie there panting, my muscles quivering from the exertion, utterly spent. Quietly, Jackson rolls down the condom and disposes of it in the bin beside my bed, before flopping down beside me on his back.

“Well, that was…um,” Jackson says quietly, turning to look at me. “Amazing.”

“Yeah, pretty awesome,” I agree, trying to get my pulse to stop hammering in my ears.

Now, this is the point where I would normally pull on my clothes and hightail it out of whichever guy’s apartment or house I had ended up at. And it’s for this very reason that I don’t usually bring them back to mine; I have nowhere to go. I briefly wonder if Jackson is planning his exit strategy until he reaches over and tugs me until I am draped across his body, my cheek resting on the middle of his chest. I can hear his heart thumping, a loud staccato that echoes my own as his hands trail over my bare behind, moving up to unclip and divest me of my bra.

“You okay?” Jackson murmurs, his voice rumbling through his chest.

“Just a bit cold,” I respond sated, turning to pull up the quilt that has been pushed down to the end of the bed. Letting out a deep sigh, sleepiness seeps through my bones, so I close my eyes and listen to Jackson’s breathing. The rhythm of his inhaling and exhaling lulls me into a semi-conscious state, so it startles me when I hear Jackson’s voice in my ear.

“So, I hope I don’t get you into trouble with your boss for persuading you to leave early,” Jackson comments, the sound of his voice rumbling through his chest.

“You mean Finn?” I ask looking up, a grin sliding across my face when Jackson nods. “Nope.” I let out a small laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Jackson asks, his brow wrinkling in confusion.

“Finn’s not my boss,” I respond quietly, wondering how much to tell Jackson. I mean, conversation is not generally a priority with the guys I go home with, so I’m not used to having to explain myself.

“Oh, okay…” Jackson trails off, starting to look a little irritated at my apparent evasiveness.

“Finn’s not my boss. I own half the bar, so we are business partners.” Multiple expressions cross Jackson’s face at my revelation.

“Oh,” Jackson says. “Don’t get me wrong, but I didn’t peg you for that. I thought you were just the bartender.” I humph a little in jest until I see him starting to backpedal.

“Don’t stress. That’s the way I want it. Most of the staff don’t even know. Everyone just assumes Finn owns the whole shebang. I am more of a silent partner. I do the shifts I want and handle the accounts and ordering, and Finn manages the staff and is generally the face of the operation,” I can see Jackson attempting to absorb my words but he’s still confused.

“Oh, don’t misunderstand me, but you just seem so young.”

I let out a laugh. “I’m not that young, Jackson. I’m twenty-eight.”

“Wow, I’m just making all kinds of assumptions tonight,” Jackson states flatly as his eyes roam my face intently.

“And you know that assuming things makes an ass out of you and me,” The joke slips out uncensored as I try to lift the mood. “Stop stressing. This is meant to be fun. So, what do you do then, Jackson?” I ask, trying to change the subject. “Because I know you are not a member of the wanker banker society.”

“Now who’s making assumptions, Kat?” Jackson asks with mirth in his voice. “Wanker bankers… where the hell does that come from?”

“Sorry,” I say, slightly abashed. “It’s just a nickname. Most of the people who come into the bar work in the banks in Canary Wharf. All they seem to talk about is how much money they make and what they are going to spend their exorbitant bonuses on. After a while, it became somewhat irritating, so Finn and I came up with the moniker so that we could poke a bit of fun. It was either that or ‘hooray Henrys’.”

At this I have Jackson chuckling so hard I have to roll off him. “Bloody hell, Kat. You do make me laugh. No, as you put it, I am definitely not either of those things. I am in a band.”

“Wow, that sounds cool. What do you play, or are you the front man?”

“I’m the guitarist. We’re a heavy rock band. I am due to go on the UK leg of our tour tomorrow morning. This was just a stop to meet up with some old school friends.” I can hear the enthusiasm in his voice.

“That sounds awesome. Eek, sorry about being so dismissive about your friends,” I say, embarrassment making my cheeks flame as I realise that I have most probably insulted Jackson.

“Nah, don’t worry about it. They definitely can be complete wankers at times,” Jackson laughs. He rolls onto his side and reaches out to tuck a tendril of hair behind my ear. His hand stills as it cups my jaw. “You are an enigma, Kat,” Jackson says as he stares deep into my eyes. “I feel like I haven’t even scratched the surface when it comes to who you are. And normally I am very good at reading people.”

I feel like Jackson is trying to see right into my soul, a sensation that is so unnerving I find myself rolling onto my stomach in a self-defensive move to break the intensity of his gaze. “Nope, I am as shallow as they come. No hidden depths in me at all,” I say weakly.

Jackson moves so that he is leaning over me, his lips at my ear. “Now I know are lying, Kat. You can keep your secrets for now, but I will find them out.” I close my eyes as his lips start to work down my neck. Strong hands grip my hips, lifting me slightly as Jackson’s fingers slip into my already-wet folds, swirling around my still-sensitive clit.

“Now I know why you are so skilled with your fingers…” I purr, trailing off as my orgasm builds quickly, keeping me on the edge of the abyss. Moments later, I hear the tell-tale rip of a condom wrapper, and then Jackson plunges into me from behind. I expect our coupling to be as fast and furious as the last time, but instead, he slowly moves in and out of me, pushing deeper and deeper with each thrust. With a start, I feel a finger slipping into my arse, and I groan at the sudden fullness.

“M..mo…more, Jackson. I…n…need more.” My body is a tightly coiled spring aching for its release. I push my bum higher into the air, my head buried into the mattress, and Jackson responds by quickening his thrusts and landing a sharp slap on my arse. The accumulation of sensations sends my head reeling, so much so that I feel like I am floating. A hand snakes around and finds my clit. A light pinch is all it takes, and I scream out my release as the electricity fizzes through my body at a frenetic pace. Moments later, Jackson stiffens above me, consumed by his own orgasm.