Jane Air

me, his face closer.
“I didn’t mean to-”
His hand slips lower. Fingers slide down and back from my hip until he is holding half my ass in his palm. I have never been manhandled like this in my life and I feel its effects immediately between my thighs. Previous boyfriends were delicate, hesitant.
Or maybe their hands were just smaller.
I feel him squeeze my flesh, kneading it and it takes every ounce of will power to not close my eyes. My breath catches while another hand moves up from my waist to just below my breast. His thumb, so light I don’t know if I’m imagining it, traces lightly over the wet cloth of my shirt, coming so close to my nipple I think I may actually cry.
Or beg.
Or agree. To anything. To everything.
Murder. Theft. Larceny.
Fine.
Great.
Just keep touching me.
“Now,” he leans closer, his lips so close to mine I feel the heat of his skin radiating off of him. “You’re not going to do this again, are you?”
Are you? I want to ask, feeling heat pool low in my belly as his hand continues to grip and release my backside, bringing my front closer to his, pressing me from thigh to chest against him.
I shake my head, eyes locked on his.
“And I’m not going to catch you back here again, am I?”
That treacherous thumb moves higher and I am aware of a light sound coming from the back of my throat, a soft imitation of a whimper.
“Because if I do catch you, professor” he pulls me closer, pressing his lips against my ear, whispering so softly even the trees can’t hear us. “There’s no telling what I might do.”
And I feel it then, the hard, thick heat of him. My insides turn to liquid and for a brief moment I worry my jeans will burst into flames right then and there. My hands, previously trapped between us, pressing my breasts even closer to his face, begin to snake around him as I adjust a leg, ready to wrap myself around and over him, enveloping him in every possible way.
After tearing off his clothing with my teeth.
Yes.
Do it.
Do everything you are thinking of doing.
“Now, go,” he says, standing up. Letting me go so quickly I have to take a step back so I don’t stumble. Again.
The night is sharp against me. I notice his eyes on my breasts as I gasp for air, chest heaving slightly.
“Get home safe,” he says with a meaningful look before turning around, back into the dark between the trees.
And I’m standing there. Like a lonely, horny idiot. In the middle of the woods.
It’s only when I arrive back at my house, unlock the door and stand beneath the shower that I wonder why the police never arrived.

4
David
The phone is piercing when it wakes me. The shrill beep breaking through the meagre hour of sleep I’ve managed after tossing and turning on my floor mattress, thinking of my naked forest nymph.
Who I sent home.
Like the sensible man I am.
Like an idiot.
Well, I didn’t just send her home. I called the police, walked with her in the woods, made sure she left my property and kept my hands to myself.
Except I didn’t do that.
I didn’t do any of that.
I followed her into the woods, down a path I didn’t know was there, lured by the sway of her hips, the movement of her breasts, full and lush and oh so visible inside that t-shirt.
I meant to make sure she left, until she turned to me, brown eyes shining in the moonlight, body outlined against the night, and fell against me. Maybe she threw herself, maybe she stumbled.
Who cares.
It was an excuse to have my hands on her, to touch what I’d been staring at.
God. The feel of her. That ass in my hands and those breasts pressed against my chest. The way she looked at me while I whispered in her ear.
I didn’t whisper what I wanted to, all the filthy thoughts running through my head.
Come home with me.
Take off your clothes.
Promise me you won’t scream.
Too loudly…
Nope. I just threw her out.
Because that is the sensible thing to do.
And now I have a boner that has followed me from the woods to the house, in the bed and into the morning.
Fuck.
“Yeah?” I finally pick up, irritation as apparent in my voice as in my mind.
“Well, you sound like you’ve been having fun,” Angelo’s no-nonsense growl blasts into my ear and I move my head away from the phone. I owe my entire career to him, but subtly and grace are not his defining characteristics.
“Yeah,” rubbing a hand over my face I hold the phone to my ear with the other. The house is chilly this morning, and my naked skin prickles outside of my warm bedding.
“Everything ok over there in bumblefuck nowhere?”
I’m tempted to remind him that he is one of the reasons I found bumblefuck, one of the reasons I’m in this house, actually.
“Everything’s fine. Just had a late night.”
“Ah,” a deep laugh and I can see him leaning back in his chair, behind that massive desk, shouting at assistants. “Well, I’m glad you’re mingling with the locals.”
I squeeze my fingers over the bridge of my nose. This is precisely the time when I should tell him about the naked nymph in my backyard. As agent and representative, Angelo takes care of all the parts of my life that I forget I need to take care of. Security being a top concern.
But I don’t. My mouth is shut and I’m not even tempted to rat out my late night visitor.
She didn’t know she was trespassing after all.
She seemed harmless.
And when I squeezed her body against mine, I had a feeling she was two seconds away from coming apart in my arms.
I cover the smile that sneaks onto my face, worried my business partner can sense my secrecy over the phone. The man has instincts like a bloodhound and I learned long ago that my personal life always