Behaving Badly
Page 3
“Be my guest, but you can’t lift up the dress yet.” She wagged a finger at him before standing on both feet in front of him.
He didn’t like that she told him what he couldn’t do, but he’d give her this bit of control. It wouldn’t be much longer before he took the reins. He felt his way along the back of her thighs and cupped her ass. His dick threatened to break through his new pants as he imagined holding her finely sculpted ass as he took her from behind. He sunk to his knees as he snaked a finger under each side of the thong. He inched the panties toward the ground while looking at her deep brown eyes. When she stepped out of the thong, he flung the tiny bit of fabric and ribbons behind him.
“Don’t you want to see what color they are?”
As he stood, the fabric of her skirt lifted with his hands. “No. I want to taste you and hear the sounds you make when you come.” He covered her mouth with his while his fingers teased at her swollen folds. Slick warmth greeted him. He smiled against her cheek. He’d made the briefest of touches to her legs, and she had responded. She didn’t need more kisses to be ready. His hunger to taste the wetness between her legs consumed him. With his hands trailing over her breasts and belly, he made a slow journey downward. “You don’t even have to get undressed or move. Pull up your dress.”
She shimmied the fabric as she pulled it to just above her knees.
The tease caused his cock to jump. “Higher.”
She took the hem to the middle of her thighs.
He licked the inside of each one. “That’s not quite enough.”
She wet her lips and raised the skirt to the bottom of her hips.
“You’re good at teasing.”
“You make me want to do it. I like the lust. It’s all over you.”
His desire to be inside her grew so much that he considered taking his pleasure and giving her a chance later. But, this woman was a woman worth a relationship. That meant special handling. “I want to see you glowing with it.” He drew a finger along her hemline, lingering at the soft curls slightly visible. “Lift this all the way and keep it there.”
“Yes, sir.”
Her answer thrilled him. He might have just found his perfect woman.
Jess threw her head backward and thanked the stars for this man who’d go down on her in a courtyard. She couldn’t have picked a better way or place to throw off the bonds she’d placed around herself. He gripped her thigh, and her flesh tingled where his finger pressed with urgency. She spread her legs wider, inviting him to touch her and take her to places she’d long forgotten. She sucked in her breath as he licked a trail along her inner thigh to her folds. He rubbed a thumb across her clit and into the wetness. His tongue followed and darted inside of her warm center. Her mouth fell open, and chills of delight puckered her skin.
She quivered with each slow stroke of his tongue as he seemed to explore the geography of her folds. She gasped and moaned. The fabric of her skirt slipped from her hands as she reached to pinch her nipples through her dress. He stopped. She whimpered. “More. Don’t stop.”
He grabbed her hands and directed them to her skirt. “Keep the dress at your waist. If you don’t, I’ll stop again.”
She craved the return of his mouth to her pussy with such ardor that she didn’t care that he’d given her a command. For this night, she could play the obedient girl. With a nod, she fisted the fabric and leaned her hips forward.
He rewarded her with attention from his hand and tongue. Long fingers pushed into her pussy and pulsed to the rhythm of her moaning. His tongue darted over her clit in staccato, fast with just the tip or leisurely with suction. More fingers pressed into her pussy, stretching and filling her. She clinched the muscles of her thighs and channel around them, seeking the explosion she knew would come. Her shoulders shuddered with ecstasy, and pressure built within her belly.
He lit the fuse with a flutter of his tongue on her clit, and she swore sparks spread from her pussy upward to her eyes and downward to her toes. He pulled his fingers from her wet center. The sudden loss sent another shattering of sparks through her veins. His fingers entered her tight channel again, and with a pull of his mouth on her clit, the explosion burst from her pussy and sent a shudder across every muscle in her body. “Oh. My. Oh. My.”
The power of the orgasm caused her knees to bend, and the arm he had wrapped around her was all that kept her from falling. She gave a cry as he pulled his fingers from inside her. He left a void that needed to be filled. Renewed jolts rocked her. His tongue still teased at her sensitive bud. With both hands digging into her upper thighs, he brought her to the brink again. She could do this every night and never get tired of him between her legs.
Drew licked his lips as Jess shivered with her release. Beauty defined her as her lashes spread across her cheeks with her breaths coming in gasps through her open mouth. The moisture of her own juices glistened on the curls above her sex. If his cock weren’t throbbing with need, he would dip his fingers into her pussy again to bring her to climax. The taste of her, salty and sweet, entranced him and left him with a high that he would ride until he found his own pleasure. He stood and massaged her hands that still gripped the hem of her dress. “Let it down. My turn.” He led her behind the bench and guided her to hold onto the back of it.
She questioned him over her shoulder. “Do you have a…”
He pulled a condom from a front pocket. “It’s one of those free samples from the party.”
“Can I put it on?” Her eyes glinted through the haze of her orgasm.
“Be my guest.”
She rubbed her hands over his cock before undoing his belt, button, and zipper. Her eyes widened. “You don’t wear underwear?”
“I didn’t tonight. I guess I’m like you. It makes me feel sexy.”
She grasped his cock and pumped her hand along its full length. “If I had only known that while I was singing to you.”
He put the condom package in her other hand. “What would you have done?”
She ripped open the package with her teeth and rolled the latex onto his shaft, sending breathtaking waves through his hips to his belly. He sucked in air through his teeth.
“We’d be doing this in the car in that parking lot.”
“Glad I didn’t tell you, then.” He kissed her and turned her so that his dick rested in the cleft of her ass. He had her hands on the bench back again.
“Why is that?” She wiggled her hips against him.
He lifted her skirt and squeezed the globes of her ass. “I couldn’t have seen you quite like this.” He nestled the head of his cock at the core of her wetness and gently pulsed.
“Don’t tease me any longer.” She eyed him over her shoulder.
“What do you want me to do?”
“I want it all the way in, and I want it fast.”
He pushed into her and made small movements. “I want it slow.” He savored her pussy, tight and slick, as he pulled almost all the way out.
He enjoyed her whimpers as he repeated the long, slow action until she uttered, “Harder, please.”
He pushed in with a thrust that hopped the bench forward. “I’ll do more if you rub your clit. I want to hear you come again.”
She pressed her hand between her legs. “Harder, please.”
He granted her request, because he couldn’t control himself any longer. Her hips beckoned to be held, and his hands gripped her. With every thrust, the sensations gathered where his cock slid in and out. She pushed back against him and tightened her muscles so that each time he pulled away a delicious tug sent tremors through his torso. The bench scooted forward with each motion.
She panted and let out a long moan. “That’s it. That’s it.”
In two more thrusts, he had his own release, and he shuddered with her as her orgasm traveled through her hips. With long, slow pulses in and out of her pussy, every last drop of cum left his body. He pulled out, and took her in a hug, cursing that he still had one last investigation and a lo
ng-standing rule about starting a relationship during one. This woman was perfect for him. It might come to the right person/wrong time speech if she called him, but when he cracked this case, he’d come calling.
Chapter Five
Jess pulled her hair out of the twist she’d put it in to serve breakfast to the homeless that had made the journey from underneath the interstate to the more genteel part of the city for a free meal. She sat on one of the benches outside the church fellowship hall and let the early morning sun bursting through the branches of the trees warm her face. She could smell the sex on her from the night before, and she hoped that the men shuffling through the line didn’t notice.
Her sister, Teresa, plopped down beside her, and she inched away, trying to keep the olfactory reminders of her tryst with Drew to herself. Although the night before left her exhausted, the work of the morning added to it. Jess said, “I think a sure sign of a good charity is when more volunteers are required. More and more people are coming, lately.”
Teresa nodded. “We serve a lot of food. I don’t know how we would have made it without you there. Thanks for not letting your music keep you away.”
“The gig didn’t last long, so no difficulty waking up for me.” She’d slept soundly after her rendezvous with Drew. Part of her wanted to lounge in bed, but she enjoyed seeing the faces of the men who thanked her for the free breakfast. This morning, a former musician brought his fiddle. She sang a hymn as he played with gnarled fingers.
“How did it go?”
Jess widened her eyes. Teresa rarely asked about her singing. “It was a nice event and well-attended. Yvonne said there was a record executive there, but he was one of the Hollywood types in town for a little while. I met him during the break. He wasn’t out looking for talent, just getting the feel of New Orleans for some script he’s writing. Swanky charities were on his to-do list.” She blew out a breath. They had such hopes that their new material would get noticed beyond New Orleans. “That almost stole our energy for the second set, but we rallied.”
“Good. I do wish you’d choose one career or the other. You’re a great secretary for the church. Maybe you should embrace that consistency. You seem like two different people, and one of them is unhappy half the time.”
She shrugged. “Everyone has sad moments.”
“But you seem to hold something back during the day. Here,” Teresa pointed to the building. “You are that chatty, happy person. You sang with that old man whose hands couldn’t keep up with a beat. Yet, you smiled the whole time.”
“That,” she looked at the sky, “is what music is all about for me―connecting with people, bringing them joy. Mr. Washington got a bit of it by eking out that tune. He’s not homeless. He just likes getting out and wandering.”
“You scowl at work.”
“I don’t.”
“You do if you aren’t a blank page.”
She did do that. Being behind a desk most of the day did bring her down, which was why she volunteered some time with the preschool. At least there, she interacted more with real people, even if they were all under three feet tall. “I suppose I’m only looking for what I need.”
“Like a relationship?”
Jess cut off her sister before she suggested anyone for a date. “I did meet someone at the function last night.”
“Not a random person. Right?”
“Oh, good heavens above! That happened ages ago, and I’m not a simpleton. I learned.” Her sister often focused on the fact that Jess didn’t know the man very well, glossing over the fact that she shouldn’t have given Theo access to her accounts. If only she’d looked past the promise of fame and the sex.
“Then how did you meet him?” Teresa’s haughty tone bit through the spring air.
“He’s a cousin of a friend. He moved here from Baltimore to start a security business. Nice guy. Knows nothing about New Orleans. We spent some time together last night getting acquainted with each other.” She nearly snickered at what acquainted meant. Teresa’s mind wouldn’t go in that direction.
“Really? No lunch date or coffee first?”
“No.” Those hadn’t worked out well the times she’d screened men with them anyway. “We met in a public place.”
“I’m glad you had a nice time. You deserve someone good, a real business man, someone with ties to the city.” Teresa patted her on the shoulder as she stood. “I’m going to take stock of the supplies, see what we’ll need for lunch on Wednesday.”
“Want help?”
“Thank you, but I use it as my quiet time. You might check with Bill, though. I think he’s tackling the storage closet so that the school can use it this summer.”
Jess snorted. “He doesn’t want my help with that project. It’s a black hole of storage. The great unknown. Haven’t you heard that he views this as a type of penance for letting it get that bad? For the past two years, he’s told me to put it in the closet. I’m not getting near it.”
“You won’t help him?”
“It’s not that. He won’t have it. I joked that he was hiding evidence in there.”
“Oh, Jess. That wasn’t funny.”
“He laughed.” She’d used all her sisterly patience for the day and strolled away from Teresa. “I’m not getting into Bill’s mess.” She added in a soft voice that no one could hear, “It’s about time that everyone in this family got out of each other’s business.”
Chapter Six
Jess never liked getting dressed for work. The wardrobe for being a church secretary counted as one of the blandest imaginable for someone who wasn’t a nun. When Jessica moved into her apartment, April commented that it looked like two different people lived there, if you judged by the closet. Her performance clothes hung in rainbow order on the left. Some sparkled and glittered. Others had gauzy skirts that floated when she moved. The shoes were bedazzled and usually platforms.
On the right hung the dresses she wore to answer calls for the church and the preschool attached to it. Instead of a rainbow, these were the colors of a stormy day—grays, dark blues, and purples. She hated the color black, so she spared herself the drabness of that color. She pulled a high necked, long-sleeved blue dress from the rack and tried livening it up with three strings of glass beads she’d caught during Mardi Gras. She sighed at her image in the mirror.
On Friday and Saturday nights, she looked like a star. Sundays through Friday at four she resembled a tired matron or an angry, forgotten head of an orphanage from the movies. Her hair in a braid or a bun reinforced the image. She’d worn it down a few times, but both Teresa and Bill, who was her boss, commented that she looked more professional with her hair up. She hated it pulled into a knot, and sometimes she hated her job and her family. It all felt like one big bond that she couldn’t break and that she hadn’t requested.
But, that was only at the beginning of the day when she had those thoughts. As soon as she got busy, everything negative flowed away like debris caught in the Mississippi River. She had a job where she didn’t have to wait tables or serve the tourists too many drinks. No one asked her to show her tits like they used to do when she worked at a bar on Bourbon Street. Bill allowed her to take calls on her cell phone to set up gigs, so that counted as a huge positive.
The Tres Belles had snagged more and more performances. All of them felt that they were rising in the New Orleans music scene. She sure hoped so, because Yvonne wanted to put her kid in private school, and Deidre needed to finish the downstairs of her house that only looked slightly better after it dried out from Hurricane Katrina. She’d use the extra money to pay off the rest of the credit cards. All of the Tres Belles lived on such slim margins that anything more than two gigs a week would be an improvement. Until then, they all had day jobs.
On her way to work, she patted her new favorite bench. She’d have to keep those thoughts out of her head today. She’d volunteer some of her time in the toddler room. The noise alone banished all normal thoughts and would obliterate all t
he erotic ones.
She sighed. Her day would be routine. She longed for the unplanned excitement of Friday night. Somehow, she’d have to change her life. By mid-morning, she’d decided that the time for that was near. The how of it flummoxed her.
“Jessica?” Bill’s voice carried from his office. “Are there any more calls I need to make?”
She didn’t like having a loud conversation in the church, even if it was an office, so she walked the short distance to his doorway. “Not if you’ve finished the list I gave you. No one has emailed or called today. It’s been quiet, because no one is asking for help. I see that as good.”
Bill made a steeple out of his fingers. “Or it means that they don’t know we’re available. Why don’t you write up an email that we can send out to everyone? Tell them about the counseling, hospital visits, home visits, and maybe the free meals on Saturdays and Wednesdays. Remind them we are more than the homily given on Sunday mornings. Make sure it’s nice enough to put in the newsletter. I’ll call a few people, too.”
“All right.” She turned and rolled her eyes. Bill expected a flowery paragraph or two when she thought a sentence would do. He always made her add to it or call a member for a quote about their experience getting help from the church. What should take a few minutes ended up being an afternoon’s work.
“Oh, I forgot to tell you that a man is coming in who is interested in joining our congregation. He sent an old-fashioned letter. Mr. Favreau will be here at noon. If I run over time in the classroom, show him to my office and come get me.” His breathy voice always bothered her. Her sister said he sounded like an angel. Jess had become used to it over time, but she’d shivered when she first met him.
“Of course.” She scratched the nape of her neck where the tug of hairs annoyed her. She’d pinned it too tightly into a bun. “That name sounds familiar.”