Part 3
He didn't hear from Jazz for another few weeks. He left her a message, but just like before she didn't reply.
He tried to get on with his life, but he was distracted. He lost interest in partying, the swarm of girls clinging to him started to irritated him. He didn't notice his friends' and colleagues' curious looks when he turned down yet another party invitation.
He looked at Jazz's website again. He got into that habit recently, trying to figure out what she was doing, where she was going.
He stared for ages at her profile picture. Here, holding her camera up in one hand, wearing a white shirt and a cool trilby hat, she looked very professional. She had that dazzling smile on her face and James suddenly felt jealous of whoever took that picture. He was convinced it was a guy. Lucky bastard! For him Jazz mostly had her mocking smiles.
James noticed a new gallery uploaded on her website, a photoshoot with a metal band he never heard of. He wondered if she was fucking them all, then remembered she didn't fuck her clients. Maybe when they stopped being her clients then, just like she did with him.
An image of Jazz in the hands of four big, rough looking guys made his dick hard in an instant. He jerked off to the mental picture of her being fucked in every hole at once, moaning loud and screaming when she climaxed several times. She was very vocal and James Ioved that about her.
Why was she not calling him again?
Finally, two weeks later, he got a message.
"9pm, on Friday, don't be late."
That's it. Not, "how are you?", "Do you have any plans?" Just an order.
He got angry at first at this cold, bossy treatment, like he was her toy. Then he realised the extent of his relief that she messaged him at all and his anger increased.
Fucking witch! Beautiful, irritating, lovely, bossy witch!
He knew he was helpless. No matter how badly she treated him, one word from her and he would do anything.
So, just as before, he appeared outside of her door two minutes to 9pm. She didn't keep him waiting for long this time. She opened the door with a smile, dressed only in what seemed to be an oversized top, her feet were bare. As always, she looked delicious.
They sat on the sofa again, it seemed to be their routine. James wondered who else sat on this sofa in similar circumstances.
He felt an unpleasant squeeze in his chest and realised he was jealous.
Jazz looked at him in the way that if it wasn't her, he would have thought she was concerned. She moved a bit closer and put her warm, soft hand to his cheek. James closed his eyes.
"How are you?" he heard her quiet voice and for a second imagined that she really cared.
"I'm ok," he replied, enjoying the feeling of her fingers stroking his face. He didn't usually get such a tender treatment.
"You're not ok, are you?" she said with the same gentle voice. "News travels fast, your friends are worried about you. Apparently, you stopped partying and all you do now is work."
James didn't say anything. What was there to say? That he didn't want to see anyone apart from her? That when she didn't call him for weeks he could think of nothing else apart from what she was doing and with whom? He tried to distract himself by working.
"I got bored of parties," he said grimly in the end.
He could feel her eyes on him when he took a sip of his drink.
"Come here," she gestured for him to move closer.
He put his glass down and moved towards her, unsure what she wanted.
She wrapped her arms around his head and shoulders and brought it to her chest. He felt the softness of her breasts and the smell of her perfume. He had no idea why she was doing it but it made him feel a little better. He didn't even notice how miserable he has been feeling lately.
Jazz stroked his head gently, then moved her hands to his neck.
The warmth of her body, her perfect shape, covered only by one, thin layer of material had an immediate effect on James. He lifted up his head and took her face in his hands to give her a long, passionate kiss. He was hungry, almost dying from starvation, not being able to see her for the last few weeks.
Now, here she was, so close, he could not wait any longer.
"I need to fuck you now..." His voice was urgent when he straddled her and pushed her body against the sofa. He pulled the top from underneath her, almost ripping it when it wouldn't let go fast enough.
The fleeting thought crossed his mind that she would say no, push him away in her usual bossy way, dictating the rules.
She didn't.
James got off her, only to roughly turn her around to get her kneeling on the sofa with her arms resting on the back. Jazz parted her legs when he knelt behind her, unzipping his jeans. He forced his dick inside her pussy. She was tighter than usual, he didn't give her any time to warm up. He pressed his body on her, pinned her to the sofa and moved fast. He pushed her head down on the sofa back and bit her neck, breathing heavily.
Jasmine was quiet. Only her faster breathing indicated the effects that James' action had on her. She did not move even though it must have been uncomfortable for her being squashed like that. She just gave herself to him.
Fuck! Why is she doing this?! Being so wonderfully submissive, letting him do whatever he wanted. He pressed harder on her, fucking her more rough than he had ever done before, waiting for her to say stop. She didn't.
Not even when he grabbed her hair, pulled her head back and closed his hand on her throat.
He was close to climax, his thoughts tangled, unanswered questions still milling in his head, tension unbearable.
When she did not stop him after he bit her shoulder so hard that he drew blood, he almost cried from confusion and finally came deep inside her.
He pulled out and released her immediately, breathing heavily, shocked by what he's done.
She looked a mess, a red patch on her cheek when he was pressing her face to the sofa for too long, hair tangled up, dark bloody mark from his teeth clearly visible on her right shoulder.
James closed his eyes for a second.
Fuck!
"I'm...I'm sorry..." he mumbled, suddenly scared, and ashamed. The words sounded pathetic.
