Seven Nights of Sin - Lacey Alexander [73]
“Jenelle once told me she’d tried her damnedest to make it on Broadway, but couldn’t—her voice wasn’t strong enough. All she wanted to do in life was dance, so this seemed like the next best place.”
Just then, Jenelle reappeared, an uncorked bottle of wine in one hand and a glass in the other. “I’m back.”
“Come on in,” Brenna said, motioning her inside.
Jenelle lounged on the other side of Brenna, holding out her glass for Damon to fill. With Jenelle suddenly so much closer, Brenna’s attention was drawn unwittingly back to the other woman’s breasts, her cleavage looking tan and perfect. And for the first time, she also saw Jenelle’s feet—wrapped in red, strappy, fuck-me heels. Though Brenna would never have matched them with the leopard print, Jenelle had enough style to pull it off.
“This dress is gorgeous,” Jenelle said, reaching out to run one hand softly over the satin at Brenna’s hip.
Unbidden, Brenna’s pussy flinched at the touch—to leave her utterly unnerved. She took a long swallow of wine and tried to act normal. “Thanks.”
“Your boobs look great in it,” Jenelle added, her hand still on Brenna’s dress.
“Mmm—they do, don’t they?” Damon chimed in, leaning over to drop a small kiss on the ridge of Brenna’s breast. A shiver echoed through the small of her back—not only from the kiss but the fact that the curtain was still open, and Jenelle was still touching her, so casually, easily, as if such contact were commonplace. Maybe it was in her world.
“Yours look pretty fabulous, too,” Brenna then heard herself say to Jenelle.
God, what was she doing? Why had she said that? They did look fabulous, but since when did she hand out compliments on other women’s breasts?
Yet neither Jenelle or Damon seemed taken aback. Instead, Jenelle playfully jiggled her chest in the leopard print and replied, “That’s why I bought the dress.”
At which point Brenna recalled what Jenelle did for a living and decided it was probably completely normal in her circle of acquaintances for women to discuss their breasts.
But the crux of her thighs still felt heavy, and her mind spun, confused. Now she sort of wished she hadn’t invited Jenelle to stay. Because she just wanted to roll over into Damon’s arms and kiss him, touch him, have her way with him. The need had been building all night, and now, with an alarming suddenness, it was growing fierce, like it had last night in the gondola.
“So how do you two know each other?” Jenelle asked.
Damon answered, explaining about Brenna’s job change and why they were in Vegas.
“Wow—that’s so cool,” Jenelle said, finally moving her hand away as casually as she’d first placed it. “Congratulations.”
Brenna struggled to pretend she wasn’t burning up with lust. “Thanks. I’m really excited about it, and Damon’s been a great teacher.” Meeting his gaze, she—once again—couldn’t quite stop herself from spewing out her next thought. “In more ways than one.”
“Is that so?” Jenelle lowered her voice and cast a grin that said, Spill.
“Well,” Brenna began, trying to think how to answer—because she wasn’t going to admit to either one of them that she’d never had a casual affair before—“I hadn’t been with anyone since my divorce. And Damon…helped get me out of that rut.”
Next to her, Jenelle sighed. “I’m so jealous. I need somebody to get me out of my rut. I haven’t had sex in a month.” She said it like it had been a five-year drought.
But Brenna was beginning to understand something. Maybe you didn’t miss sex so much if what you had was average or even just good. Now that she’d had Damon, though, she knew she was going to miss it like crazy when it was over. Once you’d had mind-blowing sex, it would be harder to live without it—and she was guessing Jenelle had had plenty of mind-blowing sex.
Jenelle wanted to hear more about what they’d been doing since they’d arrived—what bars they’d hit, how many acts they’d signed, what restaurants they’d eaten at. They both supplied answers, and Brenna drained what was probably her