𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐭 || ᴊᴇɴʟɪsᴀ

𝐨 𝐧 𝐞

An: This story is not mine, I just converted into Jenlisa.

᪥︎᪥︎᪥︎᪥︎᪥︎᪥︎

For the first time in months, the hand fondling my breast was not mine. I opened my eyes a fraction, then jammed them closed on the sunrise beginning to peek through partially open curtains. The hand shifted ever so slightly. Something brushed across my nipple, which stiffened a fraction before my body did. Traitor.

Hips snuggled into my ass and breasts pressed harder against my back. “Ah-ha.” The voice was low and smooth like buttered whisky. “You are awake.” The hand moved again, sliding down my stomach before slipping between my legs. A hot tongue danced over my neck. “You never did tell me your name.”

Before I go further, I’d like to make something clear. I’m not the kind of girl who falls asleep in the same bed as a one-night stand. Actually, I’m not even the kind of girl who has one-night stands. Standards aside, there was something about the woman who had her hand between my thighs that had made me throw my usual rules out the window.

Cliché? Yes, but true. What can I say? I was lonely and susceptible to a hot woman with a great voice and a knack for flirting. After all, I hadn’t been laid since Chahee walked out on me months earlier, screaming about how I should try investing in our relationship as much as I did in my company. By “our relationship,” she mostly meant her business ideas.

Flimsy reasons aside, there I was in my hotel but not in my room, and in danger of turning one night into one night plus a morning-after romp. I was also in danger of being late for my meeting with my best friend slash business partner, Mark. A night of hot sex wasn’t a legitimate excuse for forgetting to set an alarm and potentially missing the meeting, even if he had once used the very same excuse on me. Okay, more than once.

The hand was making progress. Very good progress. Despite my mental protest and rationalization, my clit was running this show. But I had places to be. I stifled a moan and rolled over to put a stop to the proceedings.

Face-to-face with her, I confirmed the woman was every bit as stunning as she had been last night. No booze goggles for me. I slapped a disclaimer down as quickly as I could. “Look. Last night was fantastic. Mind boggling even. Just what I needed.” My voice was hoarse from lack of sleep. And four screaming orgasms.

Dark wavy hair bounced around her face and shoulders as she nodded in time with my rambling, her eyes wide and full lips upturned. “I’m pleased. I thought so too.” She reached for me again, fingers playing over my hip.

Stay the course, Jennie. Focus. I twitched away from her. “I have to go. I need to get to the airport.” Not that I’d miss my flight. One of the benefits of a company jet.

“Me too. Let’s share a cab.” She smiled lazily at me. The woman stretched, the sheet slipped and it took every bit of willpower I had to keep my eyes on her face. I failed, miserably, my gaze sweeping over her nakedness. Oh Christ. If this were a cartoon, I would have been drooling with my eyes bouncing on stalks.

Lightly muscled with delicious curves, legs that went on forever, firm breasts that were a little more than a handful—but I do have small hands. Her eyes. Darkest brown I’d ever seen, with laugh lines creasing the edges. Adorable cheeks and a bone structure that made me want to weep. Nowhere near butch, but not quite my usual ultra-femme type. Though, after the things she did to me, I wondered if all this time I didn’t actually know my type.

I slid from her grasp and grabbed the phone, pressing the button for the front desk. Phone between ear and shoulder, I fumbled on the floor for my panties. I was sure they’d been tossed in that general direction. An overly-cheerful voice answered after three rings. “Concierge. How may I assist you?”