Falling for the Matchmaker [ Chaennie ]

Chapter 20 : Roseanne

 Roseanne

At dinner, I expounded on my theory about how science can be life changing. How just the smallest thing can make the hugest difference. I also talked about how I struggled early on because I wanted everything to fit into a formula, because that's how life made sense to me. Numbers. Math. Molecules. Atoms. I liked when something followed the rules that governed it. When I could make sense of the world that way, in a way that can be tangibly and easily, at least by me, understood. I didn't honestly know if Jennie was getting much out of what I was saying, even though she was listening like she wanted to hear it. I was trying to make things as metaphorical as possible, in hopes that she'd understand. That we'd be speaking a common language of understanding.

Now that we're done with dinner and we're stepping back into our room, I'm not sure that we were, but right now, that's far from my mind. I lock the door behind us and walk over to the huge Jacuzzi tub.

"Should I fill it? I think it would be fun. It probably takes for—"

Jennie wraps her arms around my neck and tugs me against her roughly. Her lips are on mine, furious and starving. She tastes like red wine from dinner, like the chocolate cake we shared for dessert. She's sweet and all I want to do is sink into her. I whimper and angle my face so she can deepen the kiss. I want this so badly. I've been craving Jennie since that night we spent at her apartment. It was the longest week of my life, waiting to hold her, waiting for her to touch my body, my heart, my everything. All the bits and pieces, all the particles and everything else that makes me me.

The kiss started out furious, but as Jennie steers me towards the massive bed, she slows things down. She allows herself time to savor my mouth like it's finer than the expensive wine I ordered us and richer than the richest chocolate. Her fingers tangle in my hair, pulling at the twisted knot I did this morning. It comes cascading down with a few more gentle tugs, and then her fingertips are against my scalp, and somehow that's insanely erotic. I explore her like she explores me, taking our time, sweeping my tongue into her mouth, sliding it over hers in slow strokes that make me burn straight down to my center. My legs feel like they could give out completely. Jennie deepens the kiss again. Her legs bump up against the bed, but she doesn't fall back. Instead, her hands sweep under my shirt, tearing it away with a renewed energy that borders on frantic. I feel it too. I can't wait to get her clothes off. I can barely keep myself from clawing them away. Her hand sweeps over my bare stomach. I arch into her, smashing our hips together. I fumble with her shirt, tugging and pulling. Finally, she helps me and it goes sailing over her head.

Her bra is beautiful. It's black lace, delicate, sensual, feminine. There are little butterflies and flowers in that lace. Like a field of wonder waiting just for me. Created just for me. Her breasts don't spill over the top, because the bra doesn't have underwire. They swell, creamy and flawless below, her dark nipples begging me to take them, to touch them and taste them. I trace her nipple through the lace with my fingertip. Her little gasp and the slight sway of her hips forward send hot heat swirling between my thighs. My own nipples ache. My bra is not fancy. Just plain white. It's not sexy. Why didn't I wear something sexy? I'm actually about to apologize for my ugly bra, when Jennie's hands deftly reach around my shoulders and unhook the clasp at my back. The bra falls away and then her palm cups my breast. Her fingertips swirl over my aching nipples. Now I'm arching into her. Gasping. Breathing heavy. She kisses her way over my shoulder, down my chest, down to my breast.

"You're so beautiful," Jennie whispers. "You have the most perfect breasts. The most perfect nipples. I've thought all day about tasting them. Like this." She swirls her tongue over my nipple playfully. She uses her teeth deftly, scraping them over the pert bud and licking away the sting.

"Oh my god..." I clasp her shoulders. Dig my fingers into her hair. Search for something to hold onto so that I don't end up in a melted heap at her feet.