Her Two Lovers

by HELEN HARDT

  He rocked against her, creating just the right rhythm, just the right beat.

  “Jane.” His voice was thick, husky. “God, Jane.”

  She moved with him, creating a complementary harmony to the melody of his motions, lifting her hips to bring their bodies closer, hating the barrier their clothes created.

  Such immediacy, such fierceness mystified her, yet she couldn’t stop. Oh, no. Didn’t want to stop.

  Again she moved upward, crushing her clit against the hardness in his jeans. Such a subtle movement, only a graze really, but she burst into flames as the pulsing climax rolled through her. Starting in her pussy, it radiated into her legs, her belly, upward to her arms and to her cheeks. Why did she always feel a great orgasm in her cheeks? She had no idea, but she did. Tiny tingles needled over her face and she knew her color had turned a rosy pink.

  “Oh!” Her voice came from above her, or so it seemed. She continued to grind up against Chandler and the contractions kept coming, each bringing her more and more sensation.

  “Oh, damn, baby. Damn. You’re so hot.” He brushed his lips against her warm cheek. “Do you always come this easily?”

  No. Never actually. But she wasn’t about to tell him that. “Depends.”

  “On what?”

  On whether I haven’t had sex in ages. On whether the man I’m with knows instinctively how to touch me, rub against me… “Just depends. You know.”

  He let out a gruff chuckle. “No, I don’t know, but right now I want in your pants so bad I don’t care. You can explain later.” He rolled off her and began to undress her. With haste. First her sneakers and socks, and then her sweatpants and cotton panties. “Wow.” He inhaled, closed his eyes. “I can smell you. So ripe, baby.”

  Ripe? Hell yeah. She was ready to fall off the vine. Even more so now that she’d experienced an orgasm executed by this gorgeous man. She wanted more. Lots more.

  He opened his eyes and regarded her moist pussy. He inhaled again. “Not only fragrant but beautiful too, just like I knew you would be.” He inched her legs farther apart. “So pink, baby. So pretty.”

  Pretty? No one had called her pretty down there. Sure, men had appreciated that part of her, sometimes only that part of her, but no one had taken the time to really see it like Chandler did now.

  He moved, seemingly in slow motion, and licked his full red lips. “I’m going to taste you, Jane Rock.”

  God, please! She didn’t need to say the words aloud.

  His tongue stroked her wet slit, silky smooth caresses. Her pussy still pulsated minutely, must still be open and pink for him. The thought turned her on. Jane closed her eyes and turned her cheek into her pillow. She loved having her pussy licked, and right now her clit was on overload from the climax. When he kissed it she would—

  “Oh!” The slurpy kiss to her swollen nub sent sizzles straight to her core.

  “Mmm, good baby?”

  More than good. She was at a loss for words. A simple groan escaped her throat.

  “You taste amazing. Just like I knew you would.” He tugged on her swollen pussy lips, shoved his tongue inside her channel.

  She writhed beneath his expert ministrations. A god on the keyboard and a god in bed. Who could ask for more?

  “Turn over, baby.” His mouth grazed her inner thigh. “I want to see that dragon. I want to lick you from behind.” Gentle hands guided her as she moved onto her tummy. “God you’ve got a nice ass.” His breath tickled her butt cheeks. “But I’ve already told you that.”

  Oh, yes, he had.

  “Beautiful work.” He lightly traced the outline of her tattoo.

  “Thank you.”

  “I’ve always wanted a tattoo.”

  “You don’t have one?”

  “My mother would have a cow.”

  Jane jolted and craned her neck to face him. “Your mother? Are you serious? How old are you, Chandler?”

  “Twenty-nine.” He smiled. “Born in the year of the cock.”

  She couldn’t help but laugh. “Seems appropriate. But I guess you don’t want to tattoo a rooster on your back. Or a giant dick.” She paused. “Still, you seem older. I’d have guessed we were around the same age.”

  “Stuffy prep schools and expensive conservatories make a man seem older, but”—he gave her ass a sharp swat—“I assure you I’m old enough to make you feel absolutely amazing. Now where were we?”

  He slid his silky tongue between the cheeks of her ass and toyed with her puckered hole. She shivered. She wasn’t a huge fan of ass play, but right now it made her whole body tingle. After a few moments of wet caresses, he stabbed his tongue inside her.

  “Chandler…”

  “Hmmm?” His voice vibrated between her cheeks.

  “I don’t think—”

  “Shh. Don’t think, baby. Just feel.”

  Good point. She closed her eyes and nestled into her pillow. He probed her ass with his tonue, and a moment later, a further breach.

  “Just a finger, baby. Don’t be afraid.”

  She wasn’t. She breathed deeply and willed her tight muscles to stretch. Chandler’s touch was penetrating. And strangely erotic.

  “Have you ever been fucked here, Janie?”

  Janie? “Uh…no. No I haven’t.”

  “Well, you think about how this feels. My finger sliding in and out of you. And you decide if you want to feel something else down here.”

  Oh, she wanted it. She had no idea why, but she wanted nothing more right now than for Chandler to shove his dick in her tight little ass. So she felt more than a whimper of loss when he withdrew his finger from her snug hole.

  “Do you know what?” Chandler said.

  “What?”

  “We’ve been having all this fun and I haven’t even seen your breasts yet.”

  “Ha! I haven’t seen your anything yet.” Jane turned and sat up. “I’d say I’ve gotten the shorter end of the stick so far.”

  A smug grin touched his full lips. “Trust me, baby, you won’t get a short stick.”

  Before she could think of a comeback, he crushed his mouth onto hers and lifted her tank top. He deftly unsnapped her bra and discarded both it and the top. He cupped her breasts and thumbed her hard nipples.

  Electricity shot to her pussy. She had long believed that her nipples were somehow connected to her pussy. Very sensitive, and she loved having them pinched, licked, sucked.

  “Very pretty, Janie. Beautiful. Great nipples.”

  She sighed. “Thank you.”

  “I love the color. Dark. Almost a brownish purple. Gorgeous against your light skin.”

  Color? She’d never had any man mention the color of her nipples before. Clearly, though, Chandler Wade Hamilton the third was not just any man. She jerked backward when his lips brushed a nipple.

  His forehead wrinkled. “You okay?”

  “Yeah, yeah. Of course. Fine. It just…feels good, that’s all.”

  He chuckled. “Well it’s supposed to feel good. Sure feels good to my lips.” He bent down and continued.

  Melodic sensations slid over Jane, gave her shivers, culminated in her pussy where her clit throbbed. He’d already made her climax once, had begun to show her the pleasures of her ass, and now was treating her breasts to gourmet licking and tugging. And he hadn’t shed one piece of clothing yet.

  “Chandler…”

  “Hmmm?”

  “What…what is going on here?”

  “We’re going to fuck, baby.”

  “Yeah…” Sounded great, but… “We can’t do this.”

  “Why not?” He nibbled at her areola.

  Keep your head, Jane. “Because. We don’t…know each other. We don’t like each other…”

  “I like you fine right now.” He let her nipple drop with a soft pop. “But maybe you’re saying you don’t like me?”

  “Well, you…” She closed her eyes. Couldn’t look at that handsome face and those lips swollen from kissing her. That body that had
rocked her out of orbit. “You don’t like my music.”

  “What the hell?” He scooted away from her, but remained on the bed.

  She resisted the urge to lean back into his warmth. “You heckled me all last night. Got yourself arrested because of it. And now you’re here, wanting to fuck me?”

  He scoffed. “Yeah. Don’t know what I was thinking.” He stood, still clothed. “I should have my head examined.” He rubbed his temples. “It’s still pretty fuzzy up there. You are beautiful, but definitely not my type.”

  Jane’s heart sank. She had hoped… Well, she had hoped they would continue despite her own misgivings. She’d hoped he’d be persuasive, show her how much he wanted her. Instead, he obviously had his own misgivings. She should be thankful he’d come to his senses. Not filled with a sense of loss.

  “Maybe we could—” The phone rang, interrupting her thoughts. “Sorry. Excuse me for a minute.”

  She grabbed her cell off the nightstand. Becca. “Hey there.”

  “Jane,” Becca said. “I have great news and not so great news.”

  Jane’s tummy did a flip-flop. Well, not so great was better than terrible. And great was…well…great. “Give me the great.”

  “Lenny went to see Lisa Taylor at her hotel and begged for a second chance. She’s coming back to Rodney’s tomorrow night to hear us. He fixed it with the owner and everything to have us play on a weeknight. We won’t get paid, but he figured it was worth it.”

  Jane’s feet actually left the ground. A jump for joy. “You’re kidding? What was he thinking? But who cares, it worked! That’s so great! But why isn’t he calling?”

  “Well, sweetie, that’s the not so great news.”

  There went the tummy flop again. “Shit. What is it?”

  “On the way out of the hotel, a cat ran by him.” Becca’s sigh hissed through the phone.

  “So a cat ran by. So what?”

  Becca cleared her throat. “Well, a big dog was chasing the cat, and he knocked Lenny down on the sidewalk.” A pause. “He broke his wrist.”

  Jane’s breath caught. “Geez. Is he okay?”

  “He’s fine. He’s at home resting. Fernando and I are on the way over to his place to see him now.”

  “Thank God.” Then it sank in before Becca said the words.

  “But we play for Lisa Taylor tomorrow night, and we’re shy one keyboardist.”

  Chapter Three

  Thank God she had stopped him. What had he been thinking? About to sleep with a woman whose music he despised.

  Well, not despised exactly. More disrespected. Even that wasn’t quite the right word, but her rock and roll represented everything that was wrong in his life, the bane of his existence.

  And the biggest problem? He had enjoyed himself last night. He had felt the music, felt the rhythm. He had felt Jane. The woman had talent. Major talent and an incredible voice. She was going places. While he…

  Well, at the moment, Chandler was going nowhere.

  “Not sneaking out on me, are you?” Jane’s husky alto flowed by him as he touched the door to her apartment.

  She sang even when she talked—amazing. He turned. She was beautiful. She’d put her rumpled sweatpants back on. Plus her tank with no bra. Those sexy tits hung lusciously inside the gray cotton. Nipples protruding. God, were those her dark areolas peeking through what was supposed to be opaque fabric? They had felt so wonderful against his lips, his tongue. Tasted so smooth, so delicious. Fucking imagination!

  He cleared his throat. “I figured we were done here.”

  “Chandler, Chandler, Chandler.” Her tone was mocking, even a bit caustic. She approached him, her derriere swaying temptingly. “We’re so not even close to done.”

  Oh? Had she changed her mind? Because he could easily change his. Inferior music aside, the woman was smokin’ hot. He stroked the soft skin of her inner arm. “If you say so, baby.”

  She jerked her arm away. “Uh…not going there again, Mr. Hamilton.”

  Ouch! Major rejection. Too bad his boner didn’t react. It still throbbed in his jeans. He steeled himself against her loveliness. “Then what do you want?”

  “It seems I have a little problem.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” He rubbed his thumping temples. When had his headache returned? “I’ll leave you to deal with it as you see fit.” He reached for the door.

  Her warm hand clamped onto his forearm. Damn, her touch set him on fire!

  “I’m afraid it’s not that simple.”

  “I’m sure it is, if you’ll excuse me—”

  “Chandler, you owe me.”

  Huh? “For what? Taking care of my car? I’d think the privilege of driving such a fine piece of machinery would be payment enough, but if you need a few bucks, I—”

  Her hand shot out quicker than he could react. The sting of her slap warmed his unshaved cheek. There went the jackhammer again.

  “I do not need or want any money from you, you ungrateful asshole!” Her cheeks reddened and her nostrils flared.

  His face ached, but still his cock stood stiff inside his jeans. Even angry she was the hottest thing walking.

  She let out a sigh. “But I do need you, and you owe me.”

  “If you don’t want to sleep with me, I can’t begin to think what you’d need me for.”

  She clenched her small hands into fists. “You infuriate me, you know that?”

  “The feeling’s a bit mutual, baby. What is it that you want? I’m aging here, and my head is about to explode.” And so was his dick.

  “Take some ibuprofen then,” she said, “and I’ll brew you some fresh coffee, because you’re playing keyboard for me tomorrow.”

  Had he heard her right? He jerked his neck around to follow her as she walked toward her kitchenette. Yes, she has a great ass, Chandler. Stop gawking. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  She fiddled with a canister of coffee, scooped out several spoonfuls into a paper filter. “It’s simple, actually. Last night an agent came to see the band. Because of your little indulgence, she left before we got a chance to talk. My keyboardist, Lenny, went to her hotel this morning and convinced her to come back tomorrow night.”

  “Great. Good for him. Now goodbye, Jane Rock.”

  “I’m not finished yet.” She poured water into the coffee maker. “Lenny’s had a little mishap. Broken wrist. That leaves us short one keyboardist.”

  Fuck. He knew where this was going.

  “Since you blew our chance with the agent last night, and clearly you’re an accomplished keyboardist—”

  “Pianist.” He shuddered. “I’m a virtuoso pianist. Not a keyboardist.”

  “Potato, po-tah-to,” she said with a smirk. “You know your way around a keyboard, you’re here, and you owe me.”

  “If you think I’m going to tarnish my reputation by playing in a rock band—”

  “You didn’t mind tarnishing your reputation last night.”

  “In case you didn’t notice, I was a little inebriated last night.” As his pounding head continued to remind him.

  “There’s something you should know about Lenny,” Jane said.

  “Yeah? What’s that?”

  “Well, he’s not a virtuoso pianist like you are, obviously. He’s self-taught, on his grandmother’s old upright. He plays by ear. Pretty amazing, really, considering he dropped out of school in eleventh grade to help his mother pay the bills. This break was as much for Lenny as it was for me. For Becca and Fernando too. None of us has had it easy, Chandler. We’ve worked hard to get where we are. We deserve better, and you’re going to make sure we get it.”

  “Look, I’m sorry about Lanny—”

  “Lenny.”

  He sighed, massaging his aching temple. “Whatever. I’m sure he’s a great guy, but I can’t play with your band. It’s not my kind of music.”

  “You did just fine last night, as you know.” The muscles in Jane’s beautiful face tensed. “Must be tough
, huh? To have everything you ever wanted handed to you? The best schools, the best instruments? I bet you play on a Steinway at home, don’t you?”

  He did, but he wasn’t going to admit that to her. So his family had money. Why did people constantly want him to apologize for that?

  “I’ve always wondered where I might be today if I’d had an education like that.” Her voice softened, and her eyes glazed over. “At least I was able to finish high school. But like Lenny, I’m self-taught. My aunt gave me a used guitar for my tenth birthday. I picked out chords on my own. When I couldn’t figure anything else out, I bought instruction books at a secondhand music store and taught myself.” She looked intently at him, her brown eyes slightly sunken.

  What was he supposed to say to that? Again, he refused to apologize for his good fortune. Besides, his money couldn’t buy everything. Disappointment still existed for Chandler Hamilton the third. A fact that had been drummed into his brain recently.

  She didn’t wait for an answer. “I envy you. I really do. I wish I had had your opportunities. Who knows where I’d be today? Platinum albums, maybe a Grammy or two. I could buy my mom a house, a car…” Her eyes misted.

  God, please don’t cry. He didn’t think he could take that.

  “Well, my problems aren’t yours.” She wiped the edge of one eye with her finger and took a solid stance as she flipped the switch on the coffee maker to “on.” “Except for this one. You’re my keyboardist tomorrow night. And you’re not going to let me down.”

  He closed his eyes. He had to. The misty torment in her dark smoky eyes haunted him. Then there was his dick…hard as steel, pulsing against jeans that seemed tighter by the second. His arms longed to hold her, his hands to caress her skin soft as suede, his cock to breach her tight passage and make love to her.

  He could give her the comfort she craved, the comfort he craved as well. God, he wanted to, wanted to embrace her, kiss away those tears that seemed likely to fall at any moment, make her forget all the hell that had put that forlorn look on her beautiful face.

  He inhaled and opened his eyes. Had he ever seen a lovelier woman? Not in this lifetime. Without responding to her or waiting for the coffee she’d promised, he walked silently to the door and left.