by Robin Gideon
Jared raised his eyebrows. “You? Hard liquor?”
Helen looked away. That embarrassed edge came back to her tone as she said, “Like I told you, I’ve got a…a friend. It’s his. I keep it here for him. He’s buys it. I’ve tasted it, but I don’t like it.” Rhetorically, she asked, “Who in Whitetail Creek would sell whiskey to a woman?”
Jared really didn’t like the idea of letting another man—especially when he suspected that other man was Helen’s lover—buy him a drink when he himself would never be able to return the favor. But it had been an awfully long night…
“What’ll he say when he comes back and finds that the level in the bottle isn’t the same as when he left?” Jared asked.
Helen’s green eyes turned flinty, but only for a moment. Then, in a voice that was calmer and more commanding than Jared had ever before heard it, she said, “He’s my problem, not yours. Right now, the most important thing to me is that I make you as happy as you can possibly be.” She glanced away, and when she did, her gaze softened as she concluded, “Don’t…don’t take this away from me. I want—no, I need—to do this for you. After all you’ve done for me, I have to do this. Please?”
“Well, it’s quite obvious to me that you have everything under control.” Jared smiled, and a boyish dimple appeared in his cheek. “And I am most pleased to be the recipient of your generous hospitality.”
Once again, Helen hurried away from the bathtub, the smile on her lips and in her eyes glowing with an effervescence Jared suspected she usually kept hidden. She hurried to the supply cabinet and extracted a bottle of Evan Williams whiskey and, from another cabinet, a coffee cup.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t have any whiskey glasses,” Helen said, returning to the tub. The expression in her eye said she hoped Jared wouldn’t be disappointed.
“Glass is glass. A cup’s a cup,” Jared replied, genuinely pleased that the whiskey he’d be drinking was top-quality, Evan Williams, sour mash sipping whiskey. But he was quietly furious that whoever had brought the whiskey to Helen’s house obviously had enough money to buy some of the finest spirits available in Whitetail Creek for himself, but he left Helen in a robe too well worn even for rags…
Jared reached a soapy hand up for the cup, wondering just how much he could hate a man he’d never met.
Helen got down on her knees beside the tub, holding the bottle in one hand and the cup in the other. She removed the cork rather indelicately from the bottle with her teeth and then even more indelicately spit the cork away. She then filled the clean, white coffee cup with whiskey to the brim.
Again, Jared reached a soapy hand for the cup, but Helen moved the cup away.
“I’ve got an idea,” she said, her eyes shining like wet emeralds. “Why don’t you just rinse the soap off your hands so you can hold the cup and enjoy your whiskey? Why don’t you let me pamper you a little?”
Chapter Five
Jared, with hands now free of soap suds, gratefully accepted the cup of whiskey. He took a swig of the amber liquid. Helen got to her feet and went to the stove where the boiler was holding yet more water for the tub. Using a towel to protect her fingers from the hot metal, Helen closed the vents to the stove, shutting off the air supply to the fire inside. It would be extinguished within minutes.
“I think we’ve got enough hot water now,” she said matter-of-factly as she dipped a pan into the boiler, extracting a measure of clear, heated water. She walked back to the tub and knelt on the floor, setting the pan down beside her. There was an unusually serene expression in her emerald-green eyes. “Now where’s that block of soap?” she asked. Before Jared could answer, she dipped both hands into the milky water and, not unintentionally, managed to find his penis and testicles before finding the soap. “Here it is,” she said with mock innocence as her hands came out of the water holding the soap.
Jared, with his elbows on the sides of the tub, had a roguish half smile on his lips as he studied Helen’s performance. He took another healthy sip of whiskey and sighed as the liquor burned down his throat and warmed his blood.
Helen worked up a mountain of soap suds between her hands and, after only a moment of deliberation, started washing Jared’s chest with her left hand and his back and shoulders with her right—all the while affecting an aura of innocence that would have been perfectly natural for a nun while washing the laundry.
“How does that feel?” she asked, her fingers tracing gentle swirls in the soap suds trickling down Jared’s chest.
“Magnificent,” he said. He took another sip of whiskey, sighed, then added, “Is there something better than magnificent? Whatever that word is, that’s how good it feels.”
Helen smiled and replied, “We’ll just have to find out for ourselves, I guess.”
She took the pan of warm water from the floor and lifted it over Jared’s head. “Close your eyes,” she said. When he did, she doused his hair with clean water and then wiped the excess from his face with her free hand. “Take another sip then hold your glass away. I don’t want to get soap into your good liquor.”
“How right you are, my lady,” Jared replied, taking a hefty swallow of whiskey before holding the glass away with an extended arm.
A strange, fluttery feeling slithered through Helen when she heard Jared call her “my lady.” She responded to it physically, as though he’d touched her instead of spoken to her, and though such emotions were entirely unfamiliar to her, she was consciously aware of a slow-moving warmth passing through her tissues, through her nerves, eliciting pleasures where none had been sought, adventurousness when none had been summoned.
Helen worked up soap suds between her palms, and then soaped Jared’s hair. He closed his eyes and sighed with such unalloyed pleasure that she felt her clit start to tingle. Never before had she known such a desire to please a man. Never before had she experienced such satisfaction in seeing a man contented with what she was doing for him. His obvious appreciation made her want to please him all the more.
Helen watched her hands moving through Jared’s thick hair. She had never bathed a man before. In fact, she’d never even thought about doing such a thing. Yet with Jared, despite the brevity of her personal history with him, it seemed the most natural thing in the world to do. She had seen him taut with tension. She’d seen him unleash his violence in her defense. Now she was seeing him luxuriating in the simple comforts that she was able—and so willing—to provide.
“Does that feel good?” she asked.
“I’m in heaven.” He opened his eyes and looked at her with sudden seriousness. “Are you an angel? I never thought I’d get to heaven.”
Helen laughed softly and resisted the urge to kiss his mouth. “No, I’m definitely not at angel, and this old house certainly isn’t heaven.”
“Sure feels that way,” Jared said before closing his eyes again.
I could love this man.
She had not intended for the thought to enter her head. After all, she was engaged to a wealthy and powerful man, and a smart woman simply didn’t fall in love with someone as dangerous as Jared when that woman happened to be engaged to another man with enough money to make all her financial worries disappear forever. But the thought had entered her mind, and once it had, she couldn’t pretend that it hadn’t existed.
But what about Gregg? she thought and then immediately squeezed her eyes shut against the pain that instantly followed. She thought, Forget Gregg. At least for now, forget Gregg. Think about Jared. For right now, Jared’s all that matters.
Forcing the unpleasant thoughts from her consciousness, Helen took her hands from Jared’s hair, rinsed them quickly in the bath water, and then picked up the pan of warm water from the floor. She said, “Keep your eyes closed now. I’m going to rinse out the soap.” She watched as the warm, clean water rained down over his head. When the pan was empty, Jared still had soap in his hair. “I’ve got to get more water. Just keep your eyes closed, and I’ll be right back.”
She f
illed the pan from the boiler, and upon returning, paused a moment to marvel at the physical beauty of the naked man in her house. His shoulders were broad, the muscles in his chest exquisitely formed, their slumbering power obvious. There was an almost perfect triangle of dark hair on his chest. She couldn’t see far into the milky, white water of the bathtub, but she knew what was hidden in the warm, murky waters…and she knew that that, too, was beautiful.
Helen slowly got down on her knees at the side of the tub. Quite suddenly she was painfully aware that moments such as this did not happen often in a woman’s life. In fact, for most women, they never happened at all. She knew this instinctively and accepted it—just as she accepted that she would make the most of her brief time with Jared. When he rode away, she would try to be grateful for the time that she had spent with him and thankful that she had shared his passion. She would accept that she must then get on with her life and, unfortunately, set a date to marry Gregg.
She poured the water over Jared’s head slowly, rubbing his hair with her left hand to get all the soap out of the dark strands. When she was satisfied that his hair was clean, she ran her left palm lightly over his face to smooth away water and said, “Now you can open your eyes.”
When he looked at her, Helen knew that she’d never before seen eyes such a tempting shade of chocolate brown. He didn’t need to say or do anything to make her want to kiss him, to touch him, to do wickedly intimate things with him. All he had to do was look at her with those seductive, brown eyes, and Helen’s pussy began to tingle, and all the inhibitions and convictions that she believed she held dear simply faded away.
“Okay,” she said, forcing her tone to be casual, “now kick up a foot and we’ll continue.”
With a chuckle, Jared raised his left foot out of the water, obviously enjoying the special attention he was receiving. Helen soaped his foot, ankle, and then calf, making her way slowly along his leg. The galvanized tub was not overly large, so Jared’s big frame was folded up considerably to fit into it. Helen stopped washing when her hands were at the top of Jared’s thigh, just barely beneath the surface of the water.
“Now the other leg,” she said.
Jared lifted his right leg out of the water. Helen leaned over him to begin washing his foot, and in doing so, brushed her breasts against his wet left knee. She leaned back for a moment, watching as the moist spot on her thin robe where she had touched Jared turned almost opaque, showing faintly the color of her areola through the cotton.
In a slightly strained voice, Jared said, “Why don’t you take that off?” He cleared his throat then added with an attempt at innocence that didn’t quite meet the requirements, “No sense in getting your robe wet.”
Helen gave a little shake of her head.
“Please?” Jared prodded.
Again she shook her head, averting her gaze from his.
Several seconds passed before Jared asked, “Why not?”
Helen closed her eyes. She didn’t want to answer Jared’s question. She could feel his gaze on her, studying her, waiting for her. Finally she opened her eyes, glanced furtively at his face and then away, and said, “You’re beautiful. Your body is absolutely perfect.”
“Thank you,” Jared replied. “But that doesn’t answer my question.”
“Your body’s perfect. Mine’s not. I’m too…” The words drifted away, and she felt her cheeks and ears getting warm and pink with embarrassment. These were not comforting truths she was revealing. After several seconds of painful silence, she shrugged and explained, “My hips are too big…so are my thighs. And my breasts”—she uttered a short, derisive laugh—“well, they’re way too big.”
She finished with his leg and, with a pat, indicated he could put his foot back in the water. That left only one part of his body that she hadn’t bathed. Whether it had happened consciously or unconsciously, she was now aware that she had left the best for last.
She reached with both hands into the murky water and immediately found Jared’s cock. He was aroused. His magnificent flesh was solid but not yet fully extended, though he was still impressive. Helen wrapped the fingers of her right hand around his shaft as she cradled his testicles in her left palm. A low, throaty groan of pleasure came from Jared, and Helen smiled.
“Your body is perfect,” Helen whispered, feeling Jared’s cock immediately responding to her touch, swelling instantly, filling her hand. Saucily, though she wasn’t a woman to use coarse language, she added, “Absolutely…goddamned… perfect.”
With his arms on the edge of the tub and his feet flat to the bottom of it, Jared lifted his hips just enough to raise his pelvis out of the soapy water. His erection had reached full stature. Helen’s hand moved slowly up and down over its length.
“You’re beautiful,” Helen whispered, leaning over the tub.
She made an effort to wipe away the soap suds from the head of his cock, and though only partially successful, she pushed her lips over the enflamed crown. She was aware of the taste of his flesh but even more aware of the strong, briny taste of soap. Helen bobbed up and down twice and then eased her lips off Jared.
“Don’t move,” she said, reaching down for the pan of warm water. While continuing to hold firmly onto the base of Jared’s towering cock, Helen raised the pan of water over his erection. Very slowly, drawing the moment out to increase the tension, she dribbled the warm, clear water over his erection and watched as the residue of soap was washed away.
Jared, thoroughly aroused by this enchantress’s behavior, muttered, “Damn…damn…oh, damn…” And when Helen leaned over his erection once again, opening her mouth wide to capture the crown of his cock between her lips, he said slowly, “So…fucking…good.”
The last vestiges of soap had been washed away, leaving for Helen only the flavor of a singularly delectable banquet of a man named Jared Parker. And, despite her inexperience in such erotic, gastronomic matters, Helen Miller was quickly and rather avidly amusing herself by discovering, by degrees, just how much pleasure could be garnered by sucking, licking, nibbling, and generally devouring Jared’s cock. The only frustration Helen experienced was when she tried to swallow Jared’s erection in its entirety. He was much too long, and considerably too thick, for her to accomplish her self-imposed goal. Nevertheless, she attempted the impossible several times but always ended up gagging and sputtering because of her efforts.
Jared finally said, “Don’t hurt yourself. It’s not necessary, and you’re only making me feel guilty.”
Helen turned watery eyes toward Jared, released his cock from her oral embrace with a wet smack, and said with absolute candor and innocence, “You don’t mind if I can’t take all of you?”
Jared nodded toward his cock, which stood up tall and proud, fiercely erect. Helen’s hand barely covered a third of its length. “Does it look like I’m disappointed in you?” he asked.
Once again, Helen leaned over the tub, pushing her supple lips slowly down over the crown of Jared’s cock. She drew a firm suction and was rewarded with a rumbling groan of pleasure from Jared. She bobbed slowly, consciously aware of everything that she was doing, all that she was feeling. She filled her mouth with him, and with the plump head of his cock pressing against the opening of her throat, she rotated her face around the thick shaft.
“Wait,” Jared said, his face showing the strain of sexual excitement.
Helen opened her eyes and turned her head enough to look at his face, though she did not take his erection out of her mouth.
“I’m beginning to feel a bit selfish,” Jared explained.
Several seconds passed before Helen released him from her oral embrace. “Don’t,” she said, stroking her hand over the length of his erection as she spoke. “You saved my life. No matter what I do for you, you could never be indebted to me. It’s just not possible.” While looking straight into his eyes, Helen dragged her tongue along the underside of the shaft, from where her fist was wrapped around the base, all the way up to the sma
ll slit at the very tip. “Besides,” she purred, her lips nuzzling Jared’s cock as she spoke, “you’re delicious.”
Jared drained the last of his whiskey. When Helen noticed that his glass was empty, she immediately took his glass and reached for the whiskey bottle on the floor. Before she had filled the glass, Jared had risen to his feet, his tall, naked body dripping wet, his erection angling slightly upward, enormously swollen and pulsing with tension.
“Here,” she said, handing him the cup of whiskey. “I’ll get a towel for you.”
Helen only owned two bath towels. She took both from her cabinet and returned quickly to Jared. She paused a moment to marvel at his naked beauty. Jared reached out for a towel, but Helen said, “Let me dry you.”
She started with his hair, wiping a majority of the water from his coal-black tresses. Then she worked her way down the front of his body to his waist. She paused briefly at his arousal as she summoned confidence then carefully pressed the cloth to his erection. She resisted the urge to again take him into her hand, into her mouth—but it wasn’t easy. Her willpower was sorely tested.
“Step out,” she instructed.
Jared did as she asked, puddles of water forming on the wooden floor at his feet. Helen knelt before him, drying his legs and feet, unashamed at being on her knees to serve him.
“Turn around,” Helen said when she’d completely finished with the front of Jared’s body. When he turned around, she used the fresh towel for his back, taking her time, leisurely drying his shoulders, then moving lower to let her gaze linger on the taut half-moons of his buttocks. Impishly, she leaned forward and planted a smacking kiss on each bun.
Jared turned around slowly, his shaft still ironhard. Helen reached for him, but he caught her by the wrists and pulled her to her feet.
“I want to show you something,” he said, a strange seriousness in his dark eyes that Helen did not understand.
