The Anatomy of Jane Read Online Free Page A

anyone ever told you that you have the body of a sinner?”
    I couldn’t reply. His lips were on top of mine, his tongue already in my mouth, and my hands moved to grip his tight ass. With everyone else I was Maxwell, the asshole, the ice block, the boss—but with him, I was as good as a bitch in heat.
    “You’re turning me on just by breathing like that,” he whispered slowly while dropping to his knees.
    I could see my reflection in the windows, my mouth opening as he gently stroked down the length of my cock, his thumb brushing the tip of me. “What do you want Max?”
    “To go to work.”
    He squeezed, licking the length of the vein now throbbing at the side of my cock. “Don’t lie and don’t make me do it again.”
    “I want your mouth on me…now,” I demanded. He did as he was told, allowing me to slide my dick into his hot wet mouth. He grabbed the back of my knees, leaning forward and taking all of me into his mouth.
    “Fuck,” I hissed, thrusting forward, grabbing a fistful of his hair, closing my eyes, and tilting my head back. He took my length all the way down to the base as his teeth softly glided over me. After being interrupted before, I couldn’t hold myself back and my whole body wanted this and him. Over and over I fucked his mouth and his head bounced back and forth on me. Letting go of one of my legs, he reached up to cup my balls in his hands.
    “Fuck. Ahh…Wes…urg!” I grunted, cumming into his mouth. He held me in place while drinking all of me as I tried to catch my breath.
    When he got back up, he wiped the corner of his mouth. “That was quick.”
    “Shut up,” I said between breaths; he just kissed the side of my face.
    “Another reason to be nice to the maid, Max, is the non-disclosure. You need it. Remember it’s just a paper, and she could blurt things out by accident. Suing her wouldn’t undo the damage she might cause. You’ve come too far now.”
    “Even with a sexual reference, I still don’t find your jokes funny,” I frowned.
    “My jokes are fine; it’s you who lacks humor,” he replied, kissing my lips before casually heading into the kitchen.
    I sat down on the arm of my couch, trying to calm down. I was thirty-one years old, but I had the hormones of a seventeen-year-old boy.
    Damn you Wes.
    Without a word to him, I headed back upstairs to take a shower before heading to work.
    I couldn’t believe it had been four years since we’d first met. I had been covering a story in Paris, and on my first night there, I went to a restaurant recommended by my mother. She had gone with a few colleagues and couldn’t stop raving about the food.
    He hadn’t been lying when he’d told the maid that his food was ‘orgasmic’. It was then and still was, but in Paris that evening, I wanted to meet the person who had created such delicacies. I asked the maître d’ and the chef, Wes, came out, dressed in his whites. His sleeves were rolled up and his hair was tied back in a bun.
    Some people believe in love at first sight. This wasn’t love; it was lust—raw, plain old lust the moment our eyes locked. I had always kept my lustful urges in check, but that night I had no idea what happened.
    He gave me his card. I called and not even an hour later, we were in his flat fucking like wild animals. Not just that first night. Or the next or the next, but every night for the whole week I was there.
    Then I left.
    Six months later, he had opened a restaurant in Boston.
    He didn’t ask why I hadn’t called him, or if I had thought about him. That was one of the differences between women and men. Men don’t ask. Yet, I showed up at his restaurant, and we picked up right where we’d left off. I’m sure we both thought we’d get sick of each other at some point, but we didn’t stop to question what we had.
    Four years later, and I wasn’t even slightly annoyed with him.
    “Room for one more?” He opened the glass shower door and stepped in beside me, wrapping his