“I’d better not. Why don’t you set these down inside and then come back out here for a minute?”
Michelle blinked. The request sounded odd. He did just ask me out to dinner, didn’t he? Or maybe she’d imagined the whole thing. Maybe the lack of a social life was starting to wear on her, and her mind was manufacturing all manner of strange things.
Maybe she should just go out and adopt half a dozen cats so her life could be complete, and be done with it.
She said, “All right. Just give me a moment.” Fortunately her door opened into her own small kitchen, and it took her less than a minute to set the two bags on the counter, and return to the door.
Should she ask him if he’d really invited her out to dinner? But what if he hadn’t? What if—
Michelle was at the door and face-to-face with Joe. The man proved that even for a G-man, he could move. Before she could open her mouth, he clamped his hands on her arms, and pulled her forward, into his body, and into his kiss.
Michelle felt as if her bones turned to hot, liquid honey as Joe’s mouth closed over hers and his flavor saturated her soul. This was no tentative first kiss, for his tongue swept her lips and stole into her mouth, dominating her completely. He drank from her, and Michelle had never been so thrilled. She wound her arms around his neck, while she slid her tongue along his, unsure if she was doing it right, but gaining in confidence when he growled. That sound aroused her and she nestled even closer to him and wondered how her knees could continue to hold her.
Joe pulled her impossibly closer and she felt the hard imprint of his erect cock press against her belly. When he eased his hold on her, when he ran his hands down her sides and around her hips, Michelle tightened her arms around his neck.
This kiss was wet and wild, hot and heavy, and Michelle let herself go. She sank into him, her own tongue now dancing a slow and sexy salsa with his. The scent of him, totally masculine and pure sex, and the taste of him, pure sin, made her nipples peak and caused her panties to become damp for the first time in her life. Her inner muscles clenched, and she felt that ripple in her pussy, as if it was seeking a cock to hang on to.
Michelle had no idea her body could feel such things or react in such a way. She wondered if she would have her first orgasm, ever, on her own front stoop in broad daylight, from this man’s kiss alone.
Joe eased back from her, just far enough that she could see the look in his eyes. But his arms remained clamped around her hips, so that his cock still poked at her, feeling even larger than it had just moments before.
“That should assure you of two very important things, sweetheart. The first is that I want you. The second is that you want me. I’ll be here at seven thirty to pick you up.”
He leaned in and kissed her again, this kiss more of a light sip, a first-kiss kind of kiss. Then he stepped back, let her go, and smiled.
“I’ll be ready.” Except she didn’t think a lifetime would really be long enough to get ready for this man. Michelle stood in the door frame and watched him walk away. He wants me, and he’s coming to get me.
A quick look down at her wrist told her it was just eleven in the morning. She had a feeling that today was going to turn out to be the longest day, ever.
* * * *
Jillian figured this particular Sunday was turning into the longest day, ever. The totally slow-motion feeling to the day she chalked up to two causes—anxiety over beginning a new job the next day, and her dream-riddled sleep of the night before.
Jillian hadn’t spent the last several years since her divorce living in a cave. She’d been a productive member of society. She’d gone to restaurants, movies, and on shopping excursions. She hadn’t actually dated, of course, but she’d been out and about, and she’d looked around. She’d seen achingly handsome men, some of them incredibly buff and drool-worthy, and some more lean and drool-worthy. She’d talked to several men—lawyers and accountants, store clerks and athletes, and yes, even doctors. Actually, she’d talked with a lot of doctors.
She’d had her share of hunks come in to the clinic where she’d worked for more than five years. Some had just flirted and some had actually asked her out.
And not once in all that time had she ever been tempted to say yes. Never had she been driven to have hot, erotic, hard-core X-rated sex dreams about any of them.
Not until last night, in the aftermath of meeting the younger Drs. Jessop.
Jillian didn’t have to look very far to figure out why here, and why now, either. Aunt Shirley had gossiped some over the years about her adopted hometown. There’d never been any malicious intent in her aunt’s chattering, of course. The woman had simply wanted to talk to someone about the remarkable lives and lifestyles she’d witnessed day after day for so many years.
It had been a constant amazement to Jillian that Shirley was unable to report on any cases of serious marital discord, cheating, or divorce. It seemed not only did the people of Lusty tend toward having ménage relationships. They appeared to be faithful to their chosen mates. Her aunt had become good friends with many of the wives of Lusty, and had sworn that unhappiness or disaffection didn’t seem to even exist amongst the womenfolk of this small town. Oh sure, they might get mad and have spats, same as any married people would from time to time. But those were only temporary annoyances, soon forgiven and forgotten.
Jillian tended to believe her aunt, because the woman had an amazing sixth sense when it came to people. If anyone had lied to her, she would have known it instantly.
So before Jillian had even moved here, Lusty, Texas, had already acquired, in her mind, a kind of mythical status as a haven for happy relationships.
It wasn’t that Jillian didn’t believe in marital fidelity—quite the opposite, in fact. She had practiced it herself. However, since she’d been the only one in her marriage to have done so, she’d kind of developed the attitude that she was a throwback to an earlier era. And as for the concept of a wife being happy within her marriage? Jillian shook her head. It was fairly safe to say that was certainly a foreign concept to her.
But there was more at the bottom of those dreams she’d had last night than just Shirley’s gossip and her own latent imagination.
Jillian had awakened hot, horny, and profoundly melancholy. She felt as if she’d brushed against her deepest desires, her most secret of longings, ethereally. To experience that nearness, that almost-realization of those longings, only to lose all contact, all hope upon awakening had left her feeling bereft.
Jillian closed her eyes, dug down deep, and forced herself to be honest. There had been something in the way Robert Jessop had spoken to her yesterday that had her nearly enthralled with the man. Something about him and his brother had stirred her, when she’d believed she couldn’t be stirred. She didn’t understand her emotions, couldn’t wrap her head around the fact that she felt that way when they’d barely had a conversation between them, but there it was. Jillian closed her eyes and let herself relive those few moments.
Robert Jessop’s manner had been just this side of taciturn, nearly, but not quite brusque, and yet he had somehow managed to imprint himself on her emotions.
Jillian had always been attracted to the caveman type. Neil had been like that in high school. He’d been the captain of the football team and the most popular boy in the senior class. When Neil Gillespie crooked his finger, the girls couldn’t run to him fast enough.
She’d proven to be no different—except in the end they’d both wound up paying a price greater than either of them had anticipated for the experience.
Now here she was, all these years later. She’d spent a handful of minutes in the company of another caveman type, and what did she do? Have vivid, sizzling dreams of having sex with not only him, but his brother, too.
She’d have thought she would have learned her lesson by now. The momentary almost-thrill of sex wasn’t worth the oppression that inevitably followed it. She’d opened her body to one man once and in the end had spent a l
ifetime trapped in an unfulfilling and deeply unhappy marriage. Only her role as mother had saved her sanity.
A smile slid onto her face as she thought of Brandon. Enough of this bizarre bellyaching. She shouldn’t complain about what her marriage had been simply because being with Neil had given her a beautiful baby boy. Brandon was worth any price she’d had to pay.
Jillian looked around at her new apartment. She’d put everything away, even the groceries she’d picked up in town on her way back from her last trip to the storage place out by the interstate. Her previous life had been reduced to a single moving-truckload of stuff she’d stored until she could decide what to do with it. It had taken her three trips to take all the boxes and junk out to McCluskey’s. But the effort had been worth it. Out of sight, out of mind.
Nothing here in her new place held any memories of her past life—except for her pictures of Brandon. Those memories were all good ones.
It wasn’t even much past noon hour, but it was way past time for her to take control of herself, her mind, her body, and her soul.
She wasn’t going to beat herself up over dreams she’d had the night before, nor was she going to think about them anymore. She wasn’t going to sit around and worry about a new town and a new job, or anything else. Instead, she was going to do something positive and proactive, something guaranteed to take her mind off domineering doctors and put it on a subject far more mind-consuming. She was going to do the only thing she’d ever found that could draw her completely away from the emotional demons that from time to time attacked her and made her a little bit crazy.
Jillian was going to go jogging.
It took her only a few minutes to corral her long blonde hair into a ponytail and trade her slippers for her good Nikes. Already wearing T-shirt and shorts, she was good to go.
Jillian was about to take advantage of one of the biggest and best benefits of living in a small town, as opposed to a larger city. Back in El Paso, she was careful about where and when she jogged. Twenty-first-century living came with its own dangers, as any era had ever done. A person had to be safety-conscious in any big city, anywhere on the globe. But she’d heard for years how relatively safe Lusty was. She’d asked Adam Kendall at dinner the night before, and he had assured her of what she’d already pretty much known. Most important, though, she felt safer here than she had in the larger city. She felt safer here than she had anywhere else, ever.
Safe enough that she knew she could go out and pound the pavement on a Sunday afternoon and not worry over much about doing so.
The building she lived in was only three stories tall, with a total of thirty-six units. She’d heard there were a handful of fourplex buildings in town, too, but otherwise Lusty, Texas, was comprised of single-family homes built on quiet suburban-like streets.
Late March in Central Texas could soar into the eighties and nineties. Jillian was used to the heat, used to the demands it could make on the body and the soul. She counted it lucky that for the most part she enjoyed the higher temperatures. She couldn’t for a moment even imagine living someplace with extreme cold.
She would likely never visit Alaska, not even in the summer.
The residential streets of Lusty proved a wonderful exercise track. As her legs carried her, she noticed the neat lawns, the pretty houses, and the well-tended gardens. People waved, and she waved back, at least for the first couple of miles. She noticed that there seemed to be two distinct styles of homes, for the most part, in her new town. By far, the majority of them were two-story with upper decks, and lots of windows. Some were a single floor, ranch style.
But all of the houses and properties appeared in to be in good repair and well looked after.
No one can own the land in Lusty. It belongs to the Town Trust. All of it! She recalled that little tidbit from a visit with her aunt years ago, at a time when Shirley had considered buying a home in town, as a form of investment. There had been houses available to lease, she’d been told, and offered her choice of many—for a very reasonable price. She’d opted to stay in her apartment and had chosen instead to invest in one of the families’ many companies.
Jillian couldn’t deny that the town of Lusty had cared for and taken care of her aunt. She recalled that it had been Alex and Josh Benedict who’d outlined an investment strategy for her, and that Shirley had said that thanks to them, her golden years were set.
Maybe that was why Jillian had jumped at the opportunity to come here, take her aunt’s place. Maybe she wanted the town to take care of her, too.
That was the second time in as many days that her secret longing had surfaced into her conscious thoughts. That would never do. Jillian opted for a stern self-lecture.
That thought will get you booted out of the League of Twenty-First-Century Women, for sure. Modern women weren’t supposed to crave to be taken care of. They were supposed to be strong, and independent. She’d always tried, but in the end she believed she just sucked at being strong and independent. Fortunately, she’d more or less kept that fact to herself.
She felt confident that no one looking at her would ever guess that about her.
Jillian turned her thoughts off and instead focused on the burn in her legs and the pressure building in her chest as she struggled to regulate her breathing. The burn grew into a pain, and that was the draw, the goal. The pain felt so good, and she felt so needy, that she let go of all restraint. She pushed herself farther than her usual four miles, no longer keeping track of the distance. She turned corners and crossed streets, a very small part of her brain aware of her physical surroundings, but the rest of her mind seeking shelter within.
Seeking shelter within the pain.
She came upon a park, and relished the find. There, just beside the park, stood the amalgamated school and the sight at the rear of the building was one she welcomed. Altering her course, she ran until she hit the fine gravel of the school’s running track. The pain grew and took Jillian to a place that was solid and real, a place that closed in around her and protected her so that she knew, in these moments, she was absolutely, totally there.
Nothing could get to her when she was in this special place, nothing could harm her and she sighed as the mental and emotional pressure eased, as the worry fled. Nothing else mattered but being here, and all she had to do to stay here was to keep putting one foot in front of the other, one foot in front of the other. Nothing else mattered. Her consciousness became a tunnel, both finite and infinite, both awful and glorious. Nothing else existed. It felt like nirvana.
“It’s enough now, Jillian. On the count of three, you’re going to come back and slow down.”
The voice tugged at her consciousness, edging in, as if the voice itself had shape and form and substance.
“Count of three, Jillian. One, two, three.”
“What?” Jillian felt as if she’d dozed off and was being yanked, unwillingly, into wakefulness. Her legs burned, her chest heaved, and sweat poured off her. This was a familiar sensation, unwelcome but one felt before, when she’d pushed herself to the edge and then had to fight her way back. Endorphins were really powerful things!
“Jillian! Now, God damn it. Slow it down!”
The order pulled her all the way back, and she nearly stumbled as she struggled to obey. She was no longer alone, because two men, one on either side of her, kept pace with her. Her legs slowed, but her body wasn’t ready for the change and she began to lose her balance.
Strong arms came around her, scooped her up, and pulled her close.
“Fuck, woman, are you trying to kill yourself?”
Jillian blinked and looked into the eyes she’d seen last in her dreams, even as she realized she wasn’t dreaming, or asleep, or even alone anymore.
Robert Jessop had actually picked her up mid-jog. He slowed, and stopped and held her close.
His scent rose up to surround her even as his arms surrounded her, and when his brother joined them, his heat combined with Robert’s to send her libido soar
ing, to make her feel hot and wet and totally in need. The yearning that had followed her out of sleep hit her full force and she wanted to close her eyes in an effort to fight the unwelcome sensations.
These yearnings could only bring trouble.
Robert Jessop set her feet on the ground, but kept his hands on her. David Jessop’s arm came around her waist and kept her from falling. They held her as she struggled for breath, as tears blurred her vision from the pain in her legs.
Finally, finally she was able to breathe, though she doubted standing on her own would happen anytime soon. The men seemed to understand what she needed, because they gently lowered her to the grass, and handed her a bottle of water.
“Thank you.” Jillian felt the emotions from these two men, but didn’t know what to make of them—or rather, her reaction to them.
They were both furious with her, which should have made her feel afraid, or guilty. Instead, she felt protected and safe.
Must be a side effect of the endorphins. Only the running has ever given you those two feelings. Though it wasn’t a side effect she’d usually experienced, when she had been abruptly pulled from that other place.
“Are you back with us now, mentally, Jillian?” Robert’s question told her he understood what she’d done. Maybe he was a jogger, too. Maybe she wasn’t the only one who experienced that out-of-body, euphoric state.
“Yes, thank you. I’m fine.”
“The jury’s still out on that, sweetie.”
She thought he was going to leave. Instead he reached for her and lifted her from the ground as if she was a skinny little girl instead of a woman full grown.
“What are you doing? I can walk.” At least she would be able to in time. She was pretty sure.
“I seriously doubt that. Besides, this is more expedient. Our house is just a couple of blocks away.” He began walking and Jillian slung an arm around his neck just to help her keep her balance.
“I don’t want to go to your house, Doctor Jessop. I’m fine. I just overdid it a little. You can put me down. Really, I’m fine.”
Love Under Two Doctors [The Lusty, Texas Collection] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 5
