by Haley Travis
“No.” He shook his head emphatically. “Never. No matter what happens for the rest of our lives, I’m a phone call away. I would send a helicopter to pick you up. Medics to your door. Anything. Mia, the thought of you suffering, feeling so helpless... I just can’t.”
The horror in his eyes was almost painful to see. “Jacob, I didn’t mean to upset you. I just want you understand a little more about how most of the world works.”
“I’m trying. I really am. But right now when we’re stressed, is it wrong to think of options?” He smiled, trying to get me to join him. “What if it were an indie masseuse who was just out of school and needed the money?”
I couldn’t help laughing. “Come here,” I said, moving down to the end of the couch. “Sit on the floor between my legs.”
He raised an eyebrow and grinned. “I like where this is going.”
Once he settled with his back to me, I began digging my thumbs into his shoulders through the soft, fine fabric of his shirt, working out the knots. “Damn,” he breathed.
“Is this helping?”
“Yes,” he nearly moaned.
“Isn’t this nicer than calling strange professionals into the house?” I asked, gliding my thumbs up the back of his neck.
“Fine. Just sit there being right, with your magic fingers,” he said. It was adorable that we were picking up each other's expressions. I laughed, lowering my hands to work on the center of his back. “Your laugh is so sweet,” he sighed, leaning forward.
I was glad that he couldn’t see how much I was smiling. Massaging his skin was such a small gesture, but he was so warm, so masculine, so comfortably sexy. I tried to focus on his muscles in a detached way, but it was tricky. My fingers dragged across his shoulders, and I dug in firmly. “You really are tense.”
He turned to look at me over his shoulder, and his gorgeous eyes burned into mine. I knew what he was thinking, and my hands started touching him differently. My fingers gently began rubbing his earlobe, and his gaze grew darker. Hungry. Working up along the shell of his ear, I didn’t even know why I needed to tease him so badly.
“You know, there’s another great way to relieve tension,” I said softly. My breath stopped for a second as I realized I had just spoken without thinking.
“I thought that was just going to be a honeymoon vacation sort of thing? Or special occasions?” he asked carefully, his voice slightly lower.
“It’s Monday. Sometimes that’s still part of the weekend. That’s practically like a vac–”
He jumped up and twisted, his lips pressed against mine as he knocked me slowly back onto the couch.
I’d never wanted to surrender myself to a man before, but his sultry, almost frantic energy put me under his spell completely.
Jacob wasn’t just kissing me, he was taking my lips for his own pleasure. My tiny whimpered moan seemed to drive him even crazier. He quickly grabbed my shirt and yanked it over my head, breaking our kiss for just a second. He tore off my bra just as quickly, then nuzzled into my neck as if he were inhaling my scent.
My back arched, as his lips skimmed across my flesh, taking my nipple into his mouth and sucking deeply. I moaned, reaching down and interrupting him for just a second as I ripped off his fancy designer T-shirt.
His lips gravitated to my other breast, this time pulling my nipple between his teeth, nibbling carefully until I squirmed under him. He glanced up at me with fire in his eyes. I could not believe how much he wanted me. It made no sense. And I didn’t care.
Clenching his teeth slightly, he bit me just enough to make me squeal and giggle. Crawling backward a little more on the couch, he grabbed my skirt as I moved away from him, pulling it down my legs along with my panties, leaving me completely naked, possibly in view of the huge windows. He tore off his pants, not seeming to care at all that someone with binoculars might see us.
Reaching down, my hands wrapped around his thickness. He was harder than a steel rod. Jacob chuckled when he heard me gasp. “You drive me crazy, baby,” he whispered into my ear.
His right hand was already between my legs, opening me gently, massaging me everywhere. My head fell back against the cushions, and I felt my hips opening, my legs spreading. My constant over-thinking had given way to complete physical need, and my body was absolutely in charge. I was stroking his shaft firmly, just waiting for the moment to pull him in.
As his finger plunged inside me, he groaned. “I love that you’re so wet for me,”
I nodded, then his lips were on mine again, kissing me hard. Hard enough that it almost shocked me, as I gasped against his lips.
Taking long slow strokes with my hand, I looked up at him and fluttered my eyelashes. “Mine,” I whispered, not even realizing what I was saying as I pulled his cock toward my spread open pussy. Grinding him against me, I massaged myself with his thick head, pressing it against my clit, teasing us both as I circled my wet inner lips. I had never been this bold, but I couldn’t stop myself.
“Yes. All yours. Just take it if you want it.”
He felt even bigger, the head of his shaft almost swollen as I pushed it against my slick entrance. It felt like every muscle in his body was tensing as both of us pushed our hips forward at the same time, slowly driving every thick inch deep inside me.
“Are you mine, baby?” he asked suddenly.
“Yes,” I breathed.
Wrapping my legs around his waist, we both seemed to lose our minds. Devouring each other, kissing and groping and moaning, he plunged inside my tight tunnel until the sensations were almost too much to take.
I heard myself making soft little cries of pleasure, but couldn’t quiet down. I felt my fingernails digging into the back of his shoulders, but couldn’t stop. We had both turned into animals, and my only thought was that I needed more of him.
My thighs begin to shake as my legs locked around him tighter. “Yes… Jacob…” I cried, looking up into those strangely intense eyes as I felt everything within begin to tremble.
The look of utter satisfaction on his face, as he realized I was about to explode, was too sweet to even understand. I loved that he could read my body and know how I felt.
“Yes, my angel,” he groaned, his hips rolling as he filled me over and over.
I came hard, fast, the waves hitting me so uncontrollably I felt like I was falling. Jacob kissed me, either to stifle my screams or to share them with me. When my crazy noises subsided to deep moans, I looked up at him, expecting him to join me.
Instead, he flipped me onto my hands and knees, spreading me open from behind before he slid back inside me so slowly I thought I was going to implode from the pleasure. He was impossibly deep at this angle.
He took several long careful strokes, then murmured, “Do you like this?”
“Yes. Wow.” I lowered my head onto my hands so that my hips were even higher, allowing him to plunge deeper.
“Oh, fuck,” he groaned, taking me farther, filling me more than I thought I could take. Increasing his speed, he gripped my waist, pulling me back against him.
“Yes,” I moaned, needing him to understand that it was okay to be a little rough.
My blood was blazing through my veins, humming in my ears. Not being able to see Jacob’s eyes was strange, but I needed him to never stop.
His hand slid down my stomach, between my legs, scooping up some of my juices and massaging them gently into my clit. I whimpered against my hands, bucking my hips back against him faster. I could feel how hard he was inside me, my tight, wet pussy gripping him firmly with each stroke. His fingers swirled faster, always seeming to know precisely what I needed.
Glancing back over my shoulder through a messy veil of hair, I could see Jacob’s eyes locked on my ass as he pounded deeper, harder, faster.
“Yes,” I moaned again, weakly, feeling another wave of pure tingling heat growing in my core.
“Are you going to come again for me, baby?”
I loved that he called me baby when we we
re close. I loved how he knew exactly how to work my entire body. I loved that he wasn’t afraid to let go with me.
“Yes,” I gasped, feeling the internal fire growing. “Yes… Jacob…” Then I was squealing into the sofa as I climaxed, shaking and pulsing as my hips rocked back against him even faster.
“Fuck... Mia, I cannot fucking stand how good you feel…”
Turning back over my shoulder, I caught his eyes. “Come for me,” I whispered, then his face seemed to freeze for a few seconds before he growled with an intensity I’d never heard before.
Digging his fingers into my hips, he rammed me hard while he came, until I squealed with each deep thrust. The pressure of the bursts of cum filling me was the most deliciously erotic thing I’ve ever felt.
He collapsed against me, kissing the back of my shoulders, sweeping my hair out of the way to kiss along the back of my neck, sending new shivers through me. When he finally got up, he threw his T-shirt on the sofa so that I could sit without dripping on the cushions. I couldn’t help laughing, thinking of the old movie where a chivalrous man threw his coat across a puddle so the woman wouldn’t get her shoes wet.
Jacob sat close beside me, cupping my cheek with his hand and turning my face up to his. “It frightens me a little that I lose control with you. You just drive me so crazy, and feel so good, and I can never get enough of the way you smell and feel…” His lips burned against mine in one of his luscious, intoxicating kisses, as our bodies wound into each other again.
We needed to break down these walls and admit we needed to be a real couple. The way he held me in his arms was perfectly magical. I couldn’t imagine ever moving away from him. Couldn’t imagine being with any other man. Ever.
M I A
<<< 46 >>>
VISITOR
I woke up thinking that my life had become too perfect to be true. The sun was rising over the lake and the view from my lavish bedroom was incredible. As I was pouring myself a travel mug of exotic expensive coffee which was brewed moments before I needed it thanks to the fancy timer, I remembered to pack myself lunch from last night’s leftovers, thanks to the fabulous pasta we had for dinner last night.
I knew that Jacob would have preferred I used his car service, but I only did that a few times when it was absolutely pouring rain. I felt impossibly spoiled. The walk to my new gloriously shabby chic office was only twenty-five minutes, thanks to my new incredibly comfortable hiking books that looked stylish enough to wear to meetings, given that my client base usually seemed to look like they had just rolled out of bed.
Arriving around ten am, I was able to get a solid three hours of work done before I took a break for lunch and a cup of tea.
Being able to help the arts community on this level was a thrill I couldn’t begin to describe. These were the people who had never had support of any kind and had to muddle along with no guidance. The clever, dedicated people would study the paths of those who came before them to gain a clue, but for the most part, it was trial and error.
Anything beyond that required plans, training to some degree, and money. It also required some people to shift their mindset slightly, so they weren’t only focused on playing a great show, they were dedicated to getting several more people on their email list. Or getting more people added to their physical mailing list, so that artists could send postcards the week before a gallery show.
I laughed to myself, thinking of last week when a heavy metal band was gathered around the large worktable, meticulously sticking mailing labels and stamps to gorgeous floral postcards. The artist the cards were promoting was busy setting up framing options for a photographer, who would be shooting the band’s next show on Friday.
It was a glorious mess of everyone using whatever resources they had, and everyone trying to pull their own weight. Everyone had something to contribute, it just took a little creative thinking.
One drummer didn’t think that he had any skills that could help, yet he works in a kitchen that regularly has leftover vegetable and fruit platters from the events they cater. After one chat with his manager, the office fridge is now packed with snacks, and I’m able to strongly suggest that everyone eat something healthy every time they drop in.
I had even devised a bribery system, where bands gave their fans free buttons, in return for them signing up for the email list. They had been making it a low key competition, to see which bands could sign up the most people each show. The metal band was even lending their lighting rig to a stage play for a couple of weeks, since the venue’s setup was severely limited.
By pooling resources, every person in the collective was made richer.
I was finally starting to understand Jacob’s family a little more. Their uptown, wealthy circle was a collective dedicated to serving each other. Perhaps it wasn’t to exclude others, it was just to build their own people up first.
As much as my semi-hippie mindset wanted everything to be perfectly egalitarian at all times, I could see the urge to want to take care of your own people first. If you were buying a new car, of course you’d start your search at your next-door neighbor’s car lot. If you were going to join a country club, you’re already familiar with the one that your parents go to, and already have friends there.
I was now able to see that the closed circle might not be closed at all, it was just difficult to see over those high hedges.
It was a bit unnerving how easy it had been for me to start a business, since I had far more money than I needed, and didn’t need to earn any money right away. My plans were tentatively to ask the artists for seven percent of their earnings, after they’d been with the collective for six months. Since my overhead was so low, and I didn’t require a salary, the business would be self-sustaining within the year with my existing crew, and would actually make money if I added a few more clients.
Running the numbers several times in different ways, maybe I could buy a tiny condo in the neighborhood so that I had an investment with very low expenses, and could be a totally self-sufficient entity in about two years.
After focusing on research and building my master contact list for most of the day, Burnt Filth came in for a planning meeting.
As usual, they sprawled all over the couches, as we discussed what sort of website they needed, new merch, and how close they were to having their new album written. The boys were loud, raucous, and hilarious, as always, telling tales of their last show, and how much they were looking forward to their next show in Hamilton.
My shoulders clenched when I heard a certain kind of clicking on the stairs.
“Guys, mother in law,” I hissed, and suddenly they were all sitting up straighter, except for Robbie, who was slumped over in the easy chair, as he had been all through the meeting.
I hurried to the door, opening it graciously. “Rosalind, how lovely to see you.”
“Hello, dear, I–” she saw the guys of Burnt Filth sitting there, smiling politely.
Tim gave a little wave. “Hey.”
“Oh. Hello,” she said hesitantly.
“We’re in the middle of a planning meeting,” I said brightly, “But we could take a break.”
“Could I speak to you for just a moment? I don’t want to interrupt.”
“Sure. Hey guys – finish the list of studios you like in the city. I’ll be right back.” Leading Rosalind to the end of the room, we sat at my desk.
“Mia, I had no idea that those were the sort of people you’re working with.” She was visibly upset.
“Rosalind, it’s a band. They’re very nice guys. They just play music that’s a bit louder than you or I would probably enjoy.” I tried to smile brightly.
She glanced behind her as if she were expecting to be stabbed, but the guys, minus Robbie, were all crowded around their list, chatting quietly.
“And what’s with that one,” she hissed. “He looks like a… a druggie.” She looked at me with utter horror. “You can’t be associating with drug users, Mia. Not in our family.”<
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I fixed my eyes on hers. “As a matter of fact, Robbie is on drugs.” She looked triumphant until I added, “Prescription migraine medication. He’s had a rough week, actually, yet he dragged himself here to the meeting because he’s dedicated.”
She pursed her lips. “Still, you can’t think people like that are appropriate company.”
“They’re wonderful people. They have a sound that is quite different, and actually on the bleeding edges of three major music movements right now. I think they’ll likely be picked up by a label within six months.”
She shook her head, glancing behind her again nervously.
“Surely you can’t be afraid of them because they can’t afford nice clothing,” I said, with a level of bitchiness I wasn’t expecting. “You’re aware that there are many people in this city that work sixty hours a week or more and could still never afford just one of your fancy little dresses.”
