As Robbie Harding belts out hit song Jenny to a packed Wembley Stadium, my heart tears, my mind fudges and my insides heat to a lusty, pulsing boiling point.
Why me more than the other 90,000 screaming fans?
Because I’m Jenny—he’s singing about me.
The guy is sex on legs with a voice to match and has starred in all my hot dreams since the day boys became interesting. For three precious years, it was more than hot dreams. Turns out he wants me back in his life and his bed. How can I resist?
So with lots of naked, sweaty and downright dirty time to make up for, I wield my backstage pass, hunt him down and refuse to be starstruck by the boy next door. Seems Robbie agrees, as he insists on tuning in to my needs and rediscovering our rhythm before we even reach a bedroom.
SNOG - taken from when Jenny and Robbie are in the back of the Limo after the concert...
I looked across at him. There were small lines at the corners of his eyes that hadn’t been there the last time I’d seen him. “Whose home?”
“Mine.” He grinned and reached for my knotted hand. “And it’s Sunday tomorrow, Jenny, so unless you work in a 24/7 laboratory then I very much doubt you have to be there early.”
My gut clenched. My hastily spun lie had been ridiculously weak. I stared out the window again and let his warm, smooth hand stroke over mine. It was so familiar—his touch. It was Robbie. But it wasn’t my Robbie. He was something else, someone different. “And when we get to yours?” I asked. “Then what?”
“We talk, about us.”
I turned to him. “We were finished a long time ago. I don’t understand where all this has come from. The song and the tickets.”
He reached forward and hit a small black button. A solid screen slid silently up between us and the driver, sealing us in privacy. “I miss you,” he said with a shrug. “And I couldn’t go on living without finding out if you missed me too.”
I’d missed him since the day we’d separated. I missed him so much there were times when I wondered if the ache would ever go away. It was why no one special had ever broken their way into my life or heart since the split. It was why I’d thrown myself headfirst into my research. “I missed you too,” I confessed quietly, searching the depths of his eyes. They were the same as they’d always been. They hadn’t changed over the years. A ring of brown circled the green iris and flecks of gold sat at their depths.
He slid across the seat. His shadowed face was so close now. His lips a whisper away from mine. Suddenly he was my Robbie again, there was nothing different about him at all. I swallowed tightly and remembered the flavor of his tongue, the feel of his hair tangled in my fingers and the texture of his flesh rubbing against mine when we were sweaty and naked. How could I still want him after he’d hurt me so much? After all this time apart? It didn’t make sense, but the deeply carnal desires building in me were so powerful, so demanding, it was bowling me over and taking control of my every thought and emotion.
“Do you remember how we used to be so damn good together?” he asked in a breathy whisper, leaning in closer still. “Before I went and fucked it all up.”
I stared into his hypnotizing eyes.
“Maybe I should remind you,” he murmured. He dipped his head and sealed his lips against mine, soft and gentle and oh so sexy. Once again a rush of memories flooded my mind, images of him kissing me at the school gate, the disco in the town hall, the tent at the end of his garden.
He probed past my teeth and into my mouth, caressing and searching. Our tongues tangled. The kiss heated up and a hot, desperate tug pulled at my abdomen and between my thighs. Robbie was kissing me. Was this real or would I open my eyes and be hot, flustered and alone with another tremor vibrating deep in my belly?
His hands caught my face, his fingertips slotted into my hair. I opened my eyes. Robbie was still there, he was real.
Suddenly I was consumed by a great tidal wave of lust. It was desperate, burning me alive, taking absolute possession of me. Grasping for his shoulders, I sank my tongue into his mouth with ten times more force than he’d kissed me. I had to have him. I had to have him now. Hell to the consequences, I would grab what I could while I had the chance.
His mouth responded with the same urgency I felt and he tightened his grip on my head. I fed off his taste and his tongue, sating a need that had been simmering unquenched for too long.
“Jenny, oh god, Jenny, I want you, I need you,” he groaned. His breaths were coming hard and fast. “And I can’t wait another damn second for you.”
“So don’t,” I half said, half growled as I pressed him back against the seat with my body. Rising and straddling his thighs, a hard, wonderfully familiar thickness greeted me as I sat down on his lap.
He gasped. “Oh god, are you sure?”
“Yes. Yes, I’m sure.”
Have a wonderful Sunday and I hope you get a snog of your own. Next week there will be a lip smacking excerpt from the last in this series Ménage a Music.