"I'm hoping the Amsterdam guy has something to do with porn," Sean Lynch said to her far too loudly from his seat across the aisle of the plane.
They had both wanted aisle seats and this was the compromise, but Sean had insisted on conducting loud conversations despite Jenna's attempts to block him out. Unlike him, she had work to do. The magazine's editor was hassling her for a final draft on the Paris interview already, all Sean had to do was email a few photographs.
He was still staring at her, his broad shoulders completely filling his seat, a cheeky glint in his dark eyes, his obnoxious mouth curling at the corners. Jenna just scowled at him and returned her attentions to her laptop.
"Asshole," she muttered under her breath.
The Amsterdam interview was not with someone in porn, it was with an investment banker, who had defied the system and pioneered a non exploitative but profit making capitalist system for the future. The man was a hero, but Sean Lynch wouldn't care about that, he was too busy staring at the flight attendant's shapely backside.
The investment banker turned out to be a very ordinary kind of hero. He was a nice guy who showed her photos of his blonde kids and his smiley wife, and bored her rigid with PowerPoint presentations filled with facts and figures and heart wrenching pictures of all his worthy causes. Jenna sipped her fair trade coffee and took it all in with feigned fascination, and then went to find Sean, who had disappeared long ago, immediately after firing off a few shots of his wholesome subject posed in front of a hand-woven wall hanging from Guatemala.
She found him flirting with the receptionist. He was leaning over her desk, whispering something in her ear while she blushed prettily and wound a curl of her blonde hair around a finger. Sean's eyes were directed straight down her generous cleavage, which she seemed perfectly happy to be displaying to him. She giggled and her fingers trailed over the collar of his duffle jacket. Jesus, how he had this effect on women, Jenna had no idea. It had been the same on the plane. The flight attendant had been virtually creaming herself over him. All he had done was fix her with his big dark eyes and she'd been putty in his hands, bringing him extra beers and wriggling her ass all over the place. She looked more than willing to drag him off to the mile high club, but Sean was too much of a lazy bastard to even leave his seat. What was it that worked on these women? It was a mystery, because it didn't work on her.
Jenna cleared her throat loudly, and Sean managed to drag his eyes away from the receptionist's tits.
"Finished already?" he asked, with a suggestive grin.
Jenna firmly zipped up her jacket, and spinning on her heels smartly exited the building, expecting him to follow.
"What's up?" he murmured into her ear, catching her up outside. "Did you not get any this time?"
She stopped and looked up at him smirking down at her.
"God, you really are a complete douche bag aren't you?"
He laughed, a big glorious laugh that showed his white teeth in the gloom of the evening.
"You love me really," he said, "and since we're stuck with each other, you need to loosen up a bit and give me a break. Come on, it's fucking cold out here. Let's go for a drink." And without waiting for an answer, he grabbed her arm and dragged her down the street and into a bar.
Three hours later Jenna was drunk. Drinking pints of beer with a man was never a good idea. Jenna had made that mistake before, and always forgot that some men, and particularly this one were twice her size and could therefore drink twice the amount she could, but unfortunately her stubborn pride always meant she had to match them drink for drink. Annoyingly, Sean Lynch could hold his drink and surprisingly he turned out to be good company for a douche bag. He had some funny stories and Jenna had to admit was pretty easy on the eye, and of course he got even easier after each pint.
He had been teasing Jenna about taking her to a live sex show and his plan had been to drag her around the Red Light District but by ten o'clock, her head was swimming and Sean's big arms were providing a comfortable support preventing her from completely slipping off the bar stool onto the floor. She squeezed his arms through his thick wool sweater and discovered his biceps were large and powerful, and she was lost for a moment in the warmth of his body as his long legs absent mindedly opened and she found herself slumping further towards him.
"Er...Jenna?" she heard him say through her drunken haze.
"Mmm" she murmured against the warm wool of his sweater. His chest was very broad, and his neck smelt really rather nice she thought as she turned her face up towards his, much nicer than she had expected. She squirmed against him as she felt a promising hardness against her belly.
"Jenna?" he repeated, looking down at her, his rough chin inches from her face. If she moved a little closer, she could kiss that manly jaw. She wondered what he would taste like.
His hand closed over her butt and he said, "Jenna, what the fuck are you doing?"
"Shit!" she cried, jumping away from him, her hand firmly whacking him in the groin.
Exhaling a pained gasp, he doubled over and groaned, "Fucking hell woman," through clenched teeth as she shot away from him wobbling on her high heels in the middle of the floor.
Mortified, she managed to mumble, "I think I'd better go back to the hotel," and she shakily started to put on her coat.
He took a deep breath and staggered to his feet. "I'll go back with you."
"No you won't!" she almost shouted, holding out an out turned palm.
"Yes I bloody well will. You're not walking back on your own in that state."
She didn't have the energy to argue with him and let him follow her out of the door.
The hotel was just around the corner but it had started to snow. Wet flakes were floating down and settling on the pavement, making Jenna's feet slip in her impractical high heels. Sean gripped her arm and held her against him as she swayed along, her entire body still in guilty turmoil. If only he wasn't so damned large and his hands weren't so firmly closed around her, and his hot breath wasn't against her cheek, she might be able to get a hold of herself, but her panties were so damp now she was almost moaning. Her nose was like a block of ice but the rest of her was melting with an inflamed heat she just couldn't dampen no matter how hard she tried. Where had this suddenly come from? The man was an asshole she tried to remind herself.
Her feet suddenly slipped in a particularly icy patch and she fell against a parked car, grabbing hold of a handful of his coat so he landed on top of her with a whoosh of expelled breath.
She giggled nervously and he anchored himself, his hands against the car, on either side of her body.
"God, you're drunk," he stated helpfully, his dark eyes exploring her face with caution.
She giggled again and stared up at his slightly out of focus face, realizing suddenly that he had an extremely kissable mouth. His lips were full and beautifully shaped, his front teeth just showing. He looked like he would really know what he was doing with that mouth and her nipples puckered and tightened with anticipation.
"I'm really horny too," she said wiggling her hips slightly against his groin, which was now pressed promisingly against hers.
He winced and bit his bottom lip. Oh yes, that mouth could do some really good things.
Her hand snaked under his coat and he said, "Fucking hell, Jenna," rather roughly. He closed his eyes as she found the hard length of his erection pressing against the fly of his jeans. He was big. This guy was equipped for sex all right. Her hand felt him swell and harden as she stroked the thickness and her legs shook beneath her as she felt him stiffen against her. He groaned something unintelligible and his lips hotly closed on the cool skin of her neck, mindlessly sucking at her as she increased the pressure on his throbbing cock, running her hand along the full length, pressing against the denim of his jeans.
Suddenly he pulled his mouth away and grabbing her hands, pinned them to the car.
"Stop it!" he said firmly. "You're pissed."
She whimpered and pushed her groin against him, way past caring about how drunk she was or how much she might regret this later. She just wanted him.
"Take me back to the hotel and fuck me," she demanded.
He stared down at her, his eyes black in the dark, snowflakes settling on his eyelashes. Then he slowly peeled his body away from hers and taking one of her hands pulled her upright.
"I'll take you back to the hotel," he said horribly calmly, "but you're going to bed to sleep this off."
Jenna had no intention of sleeping it off. Why should she when she had a man like Sean Lynch all hot and hard and raring to go? And how dare he play hard to get when he had been flirting with every woman in sight all day? He was the biggest tease she had ever met and she was going to teach the sexy bastard a lesson he deserved.
She chose to ignore the fact that only a few hours ago she had thought him the most repellant creature in existence. Alcohol was a strange and wonderful thing, and what the hell, you only lived once.
She behaved herself all the way to the door of her hotel room, even in the elevator, where what she really wanted to do was fall to her knees and pull him out of his jeans and suck on his big cock until he was begging her for more. All the way down the corridor she was trying not to laugh at how he clearly thought he had the upper hand and he had convinced her she was being a silly little drunk. She even managed to give him a shy little smile at the door and hand him her room card, so he could be her knight in shining armor and let her in.
But he had to go into the room to put the card into the slot to activate the lights, and following him, she closed the door and leaned against it, smiling at him silkily.
He looked a little scared for the first time ever.
"Jenna," he said warily. "What are you doing?"
She just smiled at him and slowly took off her coat and dropped it on the floor.
"I'm drunk," she said, pulling her sweater over her head revealing her red lacy bra.
"I know that," he said, trying not to stare at her tits.
"And when I'm drunk I get really horny," she said, unzipping her skirt, and shimmying it down her thighs and stepping out of it. Now she was leaning against the door in nothing but red lacy underwear and stay-up black stockings and three-inch high heels. What man could resist that?
"What are you going to do about that, big guy?" she asked.
He gulped. "We have to work together for the next two weeks," he said, his voice coming out an octave deeper than usual. "This isn't a good idea."
He was rooted to the spot, his eyes fixed on her tiny lace panties. She felt like she was about to spontaneously combust. What did she have to do? Get on her knees and beg? She had never had to beg a man for sex in her life, not a straight single man.
She had an idea. She was going to make him beg for it instead. She cupped one of her breasts in her hand and slowly ran a finger over a nipple until it was hard and sticking through the lace, staring at Sean the whole time. He was looking a little over heated, standing there all helpless, in his heavy duffle jacket. He had given up trying not to stare and his eyes were now fixed on her nipple as she played with it. She moved her hand to the other breast and his eyes helplessly followed. Her back arched slightly as she rubbed and circled, her mouth opening with a silent moan.
She saw his hand move under his coat to his hard-on. She had him! His resolve was crumbling.
"You want to fuck me don't you?" she murmured huskily as her hand moved down her belly towards her panties.
"Oh God, yes," he whispered, so low, she only just heard him.
Her hand slowly dipped into her panties as she watched his feet move further apart and his hand close over his straining bulge.
"I'm so wet, Sean," she said, and she pulled her panties to one side. "Look. I'm so wet for you."
He stared at her exposed lips and shook his head, muttering admiringly, "You dirty girl."
He watched her stroke herself for a moment, his breathing suddenly a little more labored and then sinking to his knees, he crawled towards her, his face just inches from her crotch. His tongue ran along his top lip as he avidly watched her fingers sink into her wet pussy. She watched his dark eyelashes fluttering and could feel herself on the verge of coming just from the look of wonder on his face, but he stayed an agonizing few inches away from her and came no closer.
Slumping against the door, she continued to stroke herself as he watched her and she could feel the approaching waves of an orgasm begin to pulse. Just as her head fell back and she started to cry out, she felt him pull her hand away, and then yank her panties aside as the other big firm hand grabbed hold of her hip and dragged her onto his face. His soft lips closed over her clit and sucked it into his hot mouth so hard she immediately exploded with a violent, pulsating orgasm that had her screaming out and rocking against him, completely shattered and boneless in his hands.
He licked her gently until she had stopped trembling and then he drew away and standing up, picked her up in his arms and brusquely deposited her on the bed. He pulled the quilt from under her, placed it on top of her and said, "Get some sleep," and was gone with a gentle slam of the door.
Jenna lay flat on her back, stunned. She didn't know whether to hate Sean Lynch or to worship the man. She had never been so confused about a guy in her life, and she would have to work with him for the next two weeks. She hated to admit it; the bastard had been right. This really hadn't been a very good idea.