Anita Blake 23 - Jason by Laurell K. Hamilton Read Free Book Online

can.”
    “Anita and I are rougher together than you and she alone,” Jason said.
    “Add Nicky and Nathaniel co-topping me and it’s rougher,” I said.
    Jason laughed. “I want to introduce J.J. to rougher sex, not scare her to death.”
    “Nicky makes love, too,” I said, feeling the need to defend one of my absent lovers.
    “I believe you, but I’ve seen his rough, and something about how tall he is, those massive shoulders, and the edge-play bondage takes him out of the comfort zone for me, let alone for J.J.”
    Nicky was as blond and blue-eyed as Jason and Envy, but he made everyone here today seem . . . frail. He wasn’t the tallest guard we had, but he did have one of the biggest shoulder spreads, and was just one of those big guys who seemed huge, maybe a combination of physical size and personality. He was also an admitted sociopath, which meant his reaction to situations was either socially perfect or so wrong you had no words for it. I loved him, meaning I was in love with him, and he me, which meant he wasn’t nearly the sociopath he thought he was, just someone with a childhood background so harsh only Nathaniel’s held a candle to it.
    “Okay, if Nathaniel and I aren’t rough enough, and you don’t want Nicky, or I assume anyone else in the room, what are the options?” I asked.
    “Since it’s Jason’s idea of rough that J.J. needs to see, then he and Anita should be the ones demonstrating,” Envy said.
    We all looked at her; maybe they weren’t entirely friendly looks, because she said, “What? That’s the logical choice.”
    I looked at Jason. “Do you think J.J. would be okay watching you and me have actual sex?”
    “I don’t know. I’ll ask, because Envy’s right, J.J. needs to see what I’m talking about, not what you and Nathaniel do, or you and Nicky.”
    And just like that we began to negotiate taking it from an idea to a reality. Every time I thought my sex life couldn’t get weirder, or more complicated, I was so wrong.

2
    T WO WEEKS LATER , J.J . was able to visit St. Louis. I was incredibly nervous. You’d think there would be a point where I’d had enough sex, broken enough taboos, thrown out enough traditional values that nothing would faze me, but it just didn’t work that way. I was disappointed that it didn’t work that way; it seemed like if you had thrown all the conventional ideas of sex and relationships out the window, it would make you impervious to being embarrassed, or awkward, but it didn’t. I wanted to get angry about that, but I’d expected it to piss me off, so I was ready to fight against the urge to be grumpy. I did pout. I gave myself permission to be grumpy enough to pout about the fact that I felt like I was sixteen again, and had stumbled under the bleachers, tripping over the head cheerleader and star quarterback.
    I was nervous and grumpy right up to the moment I saw J.J. step out of the crowd at Lambert Airport. We saw her before she saw us, because we were standing on the raised area that features different local arts and crafts. I was sometimes puzzled by the art, but it was a great way to see over the crowd if you were short like Jason and me. Her face lit up, as if someone had ignited a candle inside her skin so that the happy glow of it filled her and made strangers look at her and Jason, as he ran to her. She dropped her big purse to the floor and flung herself at him. He actually picked her up off the ground, and she bent her knees so he could do so even though she was five foot eight to his five foot four, tucking her feet up so he had all her body weight as they kissed and he turned slowly in place, as if they were dancing to the crowd noise.
    Her straight blond hair in its tight ponytail was almost the exact color of Jason’s; he was more petite, though her dancer’s body honed down to bone and muscle made her seem more delicate, and his bulkier, more weight-lifting body gave him more physical presence, so he seemed bigger,