by Patricia Kay
When all that was left to remove were Nicole’s filmy bra and panties and Jack’s cotton briefs, Jack drew her into his arms once more. His hands whispered over her body, caressing her arms gliding over her back, trailing slowly around to gently brush her breasts.
Nicole’s insides turned to liquid as her breasts tightened under the tender assault. A pulse beat deep within her, settling into her core.
While he touched her, his lips grazed hers, then dropped to the hollow in her neck. When his moist mouth dropped lower, trailing teasing kisses across the swell of her bosom, Nicole gripped his upper arms, feeling the hard muscle flex under her palms.
Very slowly, very gently, he backed her up toward the bed. When they were lying side by side, he propped himself up with one arm, and smiled down at her.
“You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he whispered, fingers tiptoeing over her skin.
“I’m not beautiful.” She touched his chest, ran her fingertips through the crisp hair, felt its texture, its resiliency. His palm closed over one breast, and its heat undulated through her body in slow waves. Deep within, a steady pulse throbbed, and an ache spread from the center of her being to encompass her entire body. Catlike, she stretched, pushing toward him. His hand tightened, moved, touched, stroked, teased, caressed.
Against her own palm she could feel the heavy beat of his heart. Her gaze remained locked with his as they absorbed the new sensations.
She liked the way he felt. She liked the hardness of his chest, the swell of his muscles, the wiry mat of hair on his chest. Boldly, she explored him, letting her hand move slowly down his body, past his trim waist, then tentatively, almost shyly, to the place she knew was throbbing with the same need building in her own body.
When her palm closed around him, he gave a sharp gasp and pulled her hand away. “Not yet,” he moaned. Then suddenly, he shook with laughter. “Not unless you want me to explode.”
Nicole laughed softly, delighted with him, delighted that he could joke, delighted that he didn’t take himself too seriously.
He bent down, let the tip of his tongue wet her lips, slid it inside her mouth, then out. His breathing sounded ragged in the still room.
His mouth slid lower. He undid the front fastening of her bra, gently parted it. His tongue lapped at her breasts, then gently suckled.
Nicole arched. Fiery darts of pleasure-pain zoomed through her as he turned his attention from one aching breast to another. “Jack,” she whimpered as his hand glided down her torso, over her waist, then slowly, oh, so slowly, crept under the elastic band of her panties, stopped for an agonizing moment while Nicole’s heart went boom, boom, boom, then finally, when Nicole’s hands gripped his shoulders in mute appeal, slid unerringly into her center, finding the exact spot that cried for his touch.
Nicole hadn’t known one person could stand such agony. Such ecstasy. Such pain. Such pure, unadulterated pleasure. “Oh, God, Jack,” she moaned.
He moved his head up until his mouth found hers. Before capturing it in a deep, drugging, demanding kiss, he said, “Is that a plea for mercy? Do you want me to stop?”
She could see the gleam in his eyes, the smile tugging at his mouth. “Only if you have a death wish,” she muttered.
He shouted with laughter. “Nicole, you’re wonderful,” he said. And then his mouth covered hers, and Nicole was lost in a sea of sensations so wonderful she hoped she’d never surface again.
Chapter 12
Nicole thought she knew what making love was all about.
Jack taught her she didn’t have a clue.
What he taught her had little to do with the physical sensations he evoked with his kisses and his touches. It had everything to do with the inner Nicole.
Until she made love with Jack, Nicole hadn’t known that there was a part of her that was completely isolated, completely insulated, completely hidden from view.
This hidden part of her was like a diamond enclosed in a box, buried deep within, swathed with layers of cotton, cocooned and protected, closed off in the warm darkness where its brilliance couldn’t be seen.
But as she made love with Jack, Nicole could feel the box opening. She could feel each layer of cotton as it was removed. And when she was finally exposed, when she lay in full view of the light and the sun and the beauty of the world around her, she shimmered and glittered with dazzling clarity.
She trembled with this knowledge. Part of her was afraid, part of her still wanted the safety of that closed box. And as he stroked her, as he felt her body respond, as the physical pressure built, she said, “No, no.” She tried to push his hand away.
“Yes,” he whispered. “Yes.”
“No, I—”
“Yes.”
She quit fighting. She let him remove her panties. She let him sink his fingers inside her pulsing warmth. She let him set up a rhythm that beat like a drum throughout her body. She let him bring her up, up, up.
“Jack, Jack.” She said his name again and again.
“Let it happen.” His breathing was as labored as hers.
Up. Up. She pushed against him. He increased the pressure.
Up.
And then she was there. Oh, God. She was there. Her body arched, and he held her tight against him. And as the radiance spread through her in wave after wave, she felt as if she were melting, as if the hard diamond was now a molten liquid blazing its way to each part of her.
“Now,” Jack whispered when her body finally stilled. “Now you can touch me.” He helped her slide his briefs down, and in the candlelight she could see how beautiful he was. The tempo of her heartbeat increased as she let her fingertips glide over him.
She heard him catch his breath, and she smiled, feeling powerful and strong. She would make him feel the same way he’d made her feel.
She took her time. She explored his body with her fingers, then kissed him, breathing in his scent. He quivered under her touches, and moaned her name. Once he tried to push her away, but she smiled and wouldn’t let him.
“You’re torturing me,” he said.
“Good.”
But when her hand finally closed around him, she could feel the leashed power straining to be set free. With a sound that was half growl, half groan, he shoved her hand away, and rolled on top of her.
She opened herself to him: her body, her heart, her soul. And when she felt his heat, his strength, his passion, she responded in kind. She drew him in, her body adapting to his, closing around him, making him a part of her as they started a slow climb toward fulfillment.
Jack, with one last, mighty plunge, shuddered, and Nicole could feel him coming apart inside her, his heat coursing through her, and she wrapped her legs more tightly around him and held him close, and within moments, she felt the radiance once more, but this time it kept coming, over and over again.
Finally their bodies calmed, but they stayed fused, and Nicole loved the feeling. She closed her eyes, kept her arms and legs wrapped around him. Kept him deep inside her.
He kissed her then, his tongue going deep, and she could feel his heart beating against hers.
She loved him.
Oh, God, she loved him.
Could he feel how much she loved him?
“Jack,” she whispered, when he finally broke the kiss.
“What?” he whispered back, kissing the comer of her mouth, then letting his mouth slide across her cheek to settle against her ear.
She shivered as he nipped at her ear, then nuzzled against her neck. “Just Jack. I like saying your name.”
“I like everything about you,” he said, gently rolling them both so that they were lying on their sides. He started to withdraw from her.
“No, don’t. Stay there. I like feeling you there.”
“Oh, Nicole,” he murmured. “You’re wonderful.”
He kissed her again, driving his tongue deep, rolling fully onto his back and bringing her on top of him. She could feel him hardening inside her, but h
e didn’t move, and she didn’t, either, except to settle more firmly.
Oh, that felt good. She wished they could stay like this forever. She adjusted herself, and he moaned. “You’re going to kill me,” he said.
She lifted her head, gazed into his eyes. The candlelight cast flickering shadows across his face.
He touched her hair, ran his fingertips over her face, her eyes, her nose, her mouth. All the while they looked at each other. Then his gaze dropped to her breasts. He reached for them, held one in each hand, his thumbs teasing the tips into hard nubs again. His chest heaved, his breathing became labored once more, and inside her, she felt him. She couldn’t believe how he made her feel. She wanted him again.
This time, it was hard, hot, and fast. This time, when the spasms finally receded, they lay gasping for breath.
“Enough, already,” he said, giving a weak laugh. “I’m exhausted.” He lifted her off him, laid her on the bed, then pulled the comforter up and over them. Then he gathered her into his arms, tucked her head under his chin and said, “Sleep. We need sleep.” He chuckled. “So we’ll have enough strength to do this again.”
Completely contented, Nicole snuggled into him. Within moments, she was asleep.
* * *
They soon settled into a routine. If you could call bliss a routine. Nicole went to work during the day and Jack stayed at the apartment, making phone calls and talking to Jenny. Derek Arnold was away, Jenny reported. He didn’t answer his phone. She thought he might be back by the end of the week.
In the evenings Nicole and Jack cooked dinner together, and mixed in with the cooking was a lot of touching and kissing. Sometimes they forgot the food and retired to the bedroom where they made slow, delicious love.
Then they’d usually take a bath together. Nicole would fill the big, old-fashioned, claw-footed tub with bubble bath, and giggling, they’d lower themselves into the hot, scented water. Jack would sit with his back against the back of the tub, and Nicole would sit between the V of his legs, and he’d soap her, sliding his hands in all her secret places. The combination of the hot water, and the soap, and his erotic caresses would drive her wild. They’d end up making such a mess in the bathroom that it would take them an hour to clean everything up.
By that time they’d be starving, and they’d finish dinner and eat, feeding each other and doing a lot more touching and kissing.
Then it would be time to cuddle on the couch and watch rented movies.
Then, of course, it would be time for bed again.
Nicole was living in a haze of sensual awareness, in a blissful, I’m-so-in-love-I-can’t-see-straight state of mind. In a glorious, heated, thoroughly aroused condition that she was sure everyone could see and recognize.
All Jack had to do was give her a certain look to set her off, to get all the juices flowing, to turn her into a quivering mass of flesh he could do anything to and with.
She was astounded that this was so. She’d always known she liked men. She’d also known she liked sex. But she’d had no idea she could be so wanton, so shameless, so completely obsessed by another human being.
All she cared about was Jack.
All she thought about was Jack.
From the moment she left him in the morning, when they kissed lingeringly, several times, until the moment she stepped into the Miata at night, she counted the minutes until they’d be together.
One night, they were so impatient for each other, and so keyed up, that Jack, when they were halfway home, reached over and slid his hand up her thigh.
Her startled gaze met his, and she could feel heat spiraling through her. She swallowed. “Jack,” she said weakly.
“Touch me, too,” he said, his voice rough and urgent.
“But—”
“It’s dark,” he whispered. “No one can see.”
Heart pounding, Nicole did as she was told. The rest of the ride home was by turns agony and ecstasy. By the time they reached the house, they were in such a frenzy, they’d barely gotten the door shut before they tore at each other’s clothes and made love standing up in the middle of the foyer.
It was incredible.
Afterward, thinking about it—and she thought about it a lot—Nicole could feel herself getting hot all over again.
Another time, they were laughing and teasing each other when the phone rang. It was Alice who of course didn’t know Jack was staying with Nicole. Nicole was standing in the hallway, talking to her, when Jack came up behind her. He slid his hands around her and pulled her up against him. Then he tormented her. He cupped her breasts, teasing them while he nuzzled her ear from behind. When he slid his tongue into her ear, Nicole gasped.
“What’s the matter?” Alice said.
Nicole could hardly speak. “Oh, nothing, I...something startled me. It’s nothing, really.”
“Nothing, huh?” Jack whispered. “I’ll get you for that.”
She elbowed him, slapped his hands away, but he kept it up, laughing evilly as he kept up the steady assault, and Nicole could feel herself dissolving, coming apart at the seams. Oh, God, she thought. I’m so weak. I need him the same way I need air.
When she finally made up some excuse, and hung up the phone, she was giddy, and aching for him. They barely made it to the bedroom before he was thrusting inside her and she was clutching at him, moaning, and calling his name.
They were insatiable.
They were completely consumed by their need for each other.
Nicole knew, if it were humanly possible, they’d never leave the bed. And when they did, they’d just make love in other places. She’d never dreamed there were so many ways to love a man and that each one would be better than the one that came before it.
She felt like Eve, like Jezebel. She was temptress. She was siren. She was Jack’s woman.
The worst part of it all was she didn’t feel the least bit guilty. Or embarrassed. Or sorry.
The best part of it all was she didn’t feel the least bit guilty. Or embarrassed. Or sorry.
She wondered if Jack spent his days thinking up ways to pleasure her, and she remembered the first time they’d made love and how he’d teased her and told her what he planned.
She refused to think ahead, to imagine what life would be like without him.
For Nicole, there was only here, and now.
Only Jack.
* * *
Jack spent so much time thinking about Nicole that he wondered if he were losing his mind. No woman had ever so obsessed him. He felt consumed by her. Haunted by her. He was besotted, like putty in her hands. All she had to do was give him a look from beneath those thick eyelashes, and his insides turned to mush.
He forgot why he was staying with her.
He had a hard time concentrating on the problem of Elise Arnold. Even when he talked to Jenny, he felt remote, as if Derek and Elise were people he used to know. As if the problem belonged to someone else.
“What’s the matter with you, Jack?” Jenny said on Wednesday night. “You haven’t heard a word I said!”
“Oh, sorry,” he said and tried to keep his mind on the conversation.
What was he going to do? That was the question that kept pushing itself to the forefront of his mind, the question he kept shoving away.
He didn’t want to think about tomorrow.
Because one of these tomorrows he would have to return to Houston.
He would have to leave Nicole.
So instead of thinking of the future, he buried himself in her sweet-smelling skin, held her, and kissed her, and stroked her, and lost himself in her warmth and softness. He tried, in every way he could, to give her exquisite pleasure, as if, because he couldn’t give her commitment, he could make it up to her by the intensity and force of his lovemaking.
And the harder he worked to give her the ultimate in sexual gratification and enjoyment, the more lost he became himself, for he found himself achieving peaks of happiness and pleasure that were so absolute, he was
n’t sure he could exist without them.
Jack the aggressor, the conqueror, became the slave.
On Friday night when Jack called Jenny, she still hadn’t heard from Derek. “I did finally leave a message on his answering machine,” she said. “But I didn’t tell him what I wanted. I just said to call me.”
“Let me know the minute you hear from him,” Jack warned.
He heard her sigh. “Yes, Jack. I will. You’ve already told me that dozens of times.”
Later that night, as Jack lay in bed with Nicole asleep in his arms, he wondered if he should tell Jenny he’d changed his mind. He looked at Nicole’s face, childlike and trusting in sleep. Her breathing was even and slow, and he tightened his hold on her.
“Umm,” she said, burrowing closer.
He kissed her gently. She sighed, still asleep. His tongue probed her slightly parted lips, slipped inside. He laid his hand against her breast, closed his eyes. Her breast filled his palm, and he gently kneaded it, rubbing his thumb over the softness of the nipple. He smiled as he felt the nub peak in his hand. He lowered his head, licked at the pebble-like hardness.
“Don’t you ever sleep?” she mumbled, but she didn’t push him away.
He smiled, continuing his ministrations. He loved the way she tasted. He couldn’t get enough of her.
Soon he had her moaning softly. He worked his way down her body, breathing her musky scent, wanting to keep this feeling, this woman, here forever. When he reached the essence of her, his heart was pounding. He kissed her, holding her against him, using his mouth and tongue the way he knew she liked.
He wouldn’t let her stop him. Usually she didn’t want him to bring her too far this way. Tonight he was relentless. And he wasn’t satisfied until she was writhing against his mouth, crying out as her body was wracked with spasms. Still he held her. Still he pleasured her. Still he loved her.
Only when she had collapsed, when her body felt boneless and completely pliant, did he allow himself to take his own pleasure. Even then he wouldn’t permit himself to hurry. He entered her slowly and pushed as deep as he could. Then he held himself there for a long time. Finally, when he felt her tighten around him, he began to move.
