Behaving Badly

by Ursula Whistler

  “That’s amazing.” He said just above her ear. “It’s easy to see why. You ladies sing great, and you’re all pretty.” He took her shoulders and pushed back a bit. “You’re the most stunning of them all.”

  “Thank you. Such flattery is unnecessary, but greatly appreciated.” She turned from him and yelled to the stage manager, “Hey, Tim. Can we hang in the dressing rooms for a bit? We have some business to discuss.”

  “Sure,” the long-haired man answered. “Turn out the lights and exit through the restaurant when you’re done.”

  “Thanks.” She clamped onto Drew’s hand and dragged him to the rear of the stage to the door marked Tres Belles.

  “Business?” Drew asked as she closed the door and locked it.

  She slid her hands up his lapels and reveled in the power of having him at her disposal. Any chance to be with him meant a chance to be Jessica Gold, the loud, happy, sexy Jess. “Euphemism.”

  His hands circled her waist. “And he knows that?”

  “Nope, and if he does, I don’t care.” She leaned into his body. “Fabulous news means a fabulous night. I want to celebrate our success, and since I don’t drink…”

  “I’m your prize?” His thumbs rubbed over her nipples.

  She shivered. This was just what she wanted. This man touching her and doing with her what he wanted. “My new vice.” She lifted her head and parted her lips slightly.

  “I could get used to this.” He lowered his mouth onto hers.

  She melted as his silken lips danced across her lips and skin. He dragged his stubbled cheek across her face before nibbling her earlobe. Warmth spread down her neck to pool at her center. She needed more access to him. She shoved his jacket off his shoulders and down his arms.

  He left her lips and tossed his coat to a chair. “Aren’t you eager?”

  “For you, yes.” She touched the top button of her dress and raised one eyebrow. His answer resembled a rumble. She unbuttoned two of the four that held the light green bodice closed over her chest. She traced a finger over the lace of her bra.

  “White? For some reason, I expected something with color.” He smirked.

  She undid the last two buttons, revealing the emerald stripes that covered her breasts. “I don’t think I own any underwear that is all white.” She reached under her arm to pull the zipper down.

  “I’d probably toss a white one away quicker.”

  The hunger in his eyes made her feel seductive. She pushed her dress off her shoulders and down her body until it rested at her hips. “Then I may have to get at least one, just for those quickie moments.” She winked at him over her shoulder. “Want to see more?”

  “Yes.”

  She hooked her thumbs on the fabric at her waist and worked it slowly over her hips. She bent forward as the bare skin of her ass peeked out. The thong barely covered anything, which was the reason she chose it in the first place. The cashier asked her why she even bothered with underwear if it wasn’t gonna cover anything. That woman obviously didn’t have someone as sexy as Drew. She heard his appreciation―a deep breath and a grunt. She let the dress drop to the ground.

  “You have to get over here now.”

  She faced him and leaned on the dressing table behind her. “Why don’t you come to me?”

  “I’m not sure I can walk.” He glanced at the bulge at his crotch.

  She arched an eyebrow at his suggestion that his engorged cock kept him from coming to her. She’d underestimated her sex appeal to him if he’d grown that large. With the high of the show, the TV exec, and an aroused Drew cheering her on, she reached behind her and unfastened her bra. She tossed it to the side, baring all of her to him. Her breasts felt heavier and more luscious. “Maybe this will be more motivation.”

  “It certainly sweetens the pot.” He licked his lips.

  The effect she had on him excited her. The triangle of fabric at the vee of her legs was already wet. The throbbing of her pussy increased along with the hardening of her nipples when she pushed the thong down her legs. Her tummy tightened when she perched on the table and spread her legs. She reveled in the wantonness of the moment.

  “That seals the deal.” With amazing quickness, he was in front of her. His hands squeezed her nipples and kneaded her breasts as his mouth took hers. He demanded more with the pressure of his kiss.

  She uttered a complaint when he stopped kissing her, but she moaned when he pulled a nipple with his teeth. She’d had sex with him, but that hadn’t prepared her for the body-rippling shocks she felt from his mouth upon her breast. Her breath caught when he nipped at her again. Needing to have his cock in her hand, she unfastened his pants.

  He came up for air when she palmed his engorged shaft. “My pocket. Condom.”

  Together they covered his cock with the ribbed latex. She hooked a leg around his waist and pulled him closer as her breaths came in soft pants. “I want it now.”

  He pushed into her inch by glorious inch. His slow, deliberate progress reminded her of a note that she sang in a song. It lasted throughout the phrase her backup singers performed and reached a crescendo at the end. The sensations from his cock driving into her wet center built until every nerve hit a high note. Her other leg wrapped around him, needing to have him deeper. His head touched the top of hers and he sighed. “You are magnificent, and I don’t want this to be slow.”

  Neither did she. Slow would be for lazy afternoons or on a bed. “Good. Show me what you got.”

  Her arms and legs wrapped around his back as he rammed into her pussy. Tiny orgasms sparked with each thrust. Nothing outside of their bodies mattered. The only noises were their sounds of pleasure and the soft slap of his body against hers.

  Her breath came in gasps as the sparks of desire and lust built into an explosion. She tossed her head back in a silent moan as he kept pounding into her. His hands cupped her bottom and kept her close. The orgasm didn’t stop, and a sweet torture filled her with everything and nothingness.

  Her hands gripped his back tighter, holding on with her fingernails as he continued pulsing. He wrapped one arm around her shoulders, crushing her breasts against the cotton of his shirt. The friction of the threads on her nipples elicited a clipped moan. Her brain swirled with all these sensations crashing inside of her. She bit his shoulder to keep from yelling his name when a new shock wave reverberated through her.

  “Yes, baby. Yes. Almost there,” he breathed.

  A clap of wood hitting wood joined his grunts as he thrust into her faster. She squeezed her thighs together and begged for him to keep going. He pressed her to him tighter and shortened his strokes. With a quiet groan, he shuddered then stilled. They breathed in unison as they recovered, his head heavy on hers that rested on his chest.

  When she found her voice, she said. “That was the best celebration I’ve ever had.”

  His body jostled with a laugh. “This beats a cocktail. I’m going to have to start marking my big occasions in the same style.”

  She smiled. She’d taught him something. “It’s a good way.”

  “You do this a lot?”

  She shook her head and knew he could feel it. She hadn’t pulled away from him. She loved the feeling of his cock inside her. She imagined falling asleep like this when they finally got around to sex in a bed.

  “Heavens, no. I’ve messed around after choral practice. Teenage stuff.” She wished she could tell someone. He might understand. “There was another time that…”

  “Hmm?” His hands cupped her ass and pulled her closer. He nuzzled on her neck. “What did you do?”

  The tenderness of his caresses had her throat constricting. She shook her head to stop the tears that threatened to mar this glorious moment. This was a man who would protect her. If he knew about how broken she was after that time long ago, he’d treat her differently. All the people who knew, like some of the aldermen, did. They questioned her judgment and tried to take over. The one man she dated who heard of the bankruptcy from h
er brother-in-law viewed her as a child who needed constant direction.

  She didn’t want Drew to treat her like a porcelain vase. She wanted him ramming into her from behind and fucking her on a table in a dressing room. Wild abandon. She craved it. She hated being treated like a child. She’d recovered. She’d learned. She didn’t need coddling.

  “Nothing near as wonderful as this.”

  “I’m a beast. You’re naked, and I’m fully dressed.”

  She looked at him and smiled. Her hand touched just above where they were still joined. “Not fully.”

  He kissed his way down her face to her lips as he pulled out. He continued his trail of kisses until he reached her breasts. “I’m going to miss seeing these. It’s a shame to button them up.”

  She reached for her bra. “You’ll still be able to see them when I’m dressed.”

  He picked up her thong and her dress from the floor. “One day, I want to have you stretched out on a bed so I can spend a long time touching you.”

  She practically purred. A quickie in a dressing room was great, but an afternoon spent lying around enjoying each other’s company would be a complete luxury. “I’d like that.” She turned her back to him and shook her shoulders.

  He fastened the hooks of the bra. “Do you have any idea how distracting you are with these beauties and this beauty up on the stage?” He touched the back of his hand to her cheek. “I could only see you.” He dangled the thong from his finger.

  She took it and shoved it into his pocket. “No need to put those back on, and thank you. I count myself lucky that I couldn’t see you out in the audience or I would have forgotten the words.” She spread her hands on his chest. “Although, I might have to make it a requirement that you wait for me after each performance.”

  He slipped her dress over her head. “Let me button it for you. Then we can get dessert or something.”

  She sighed. “I’d love to, but family commitments.” Her sister hadn’t forgiven her for missing church last Sunday, and as penance had made her promise to serve at the soup kitchen for breakfast. She always did the midweek version during lunchtime, but the Saturday breakfast required her to wake very early.

  “Okay. Let me drive you home, then.”

  “That offer I will take.”

  “One condition, though.”

  She raised an eyebrow. She wouldn’t let him into her apartment. That required another level of trust. He hadn’t quite gained that.

  “A real date. On Thursday night. Dinner, drinks, the whole works. Except, I won’t make you drink, since you don’t.”

  “Sure. Not too late because of work.”

  “You got it. I have a special request. Dress like you do during the day.”

  “Really?” She chose her work outfits so that they didn’t make her alluring. This man amazed her.

  “Honey, you looked so good all covered up that I wanted to take you right there on the desk.”

  She laughed and felt a blush spread over her face. She touched her traitorous cheeks. She’d sat naked on a table with her legs spread and the idea of having a go on the church desk made her turn red?

  Drew moved a hand and kissed her cheek. “You like that idea. It’s a shame we can’t sneak in there tonight. Maybe later.”

  Desire raged through her. “Are you this bad all the time?”

  “Only when I feel this good.”

  Chapter Eight

  Drew checked his appearance in the mirror. His beard was closely trimmed. His shirt was loose. He preferred the ones that fit snugly, but he wanted to look less a muscle-bound playboy and more like a church-going guy. So, the oversized college shirt made its way out of the bottom of his drawer.

  He called Ward before he left for the early morning soup kitchen. He smirked. Jess would be very surprised to see him.

  Ward’s voice grumbled through the small speaker. “What the hell are you doing calling me at this hour?”

  “Development in the case.”

  “I thought you went to get your jollies last night. What did you learn?”

  “There’s a soup kitchen this morning. I can meet the preacher’s wife.” Jess had said her sister’s name was Teresa as he shared a cab with her home. “According to the secretary, Mrs. Townsend runs everything there, including getting the donations and acquiring the food.”

  “Which means plenty of wiggle room for sloughing off the top. Got this from your informant?” Ward sounded satisfied.

  Drew chuckled at that description, although his comfort level with bedding a woman possibly involved in embezzlement was no laughing matter. Yet, he’d learned during his time as an undercover detective that sometimes you had to get dirty to find the truth. “Yes. I’m being an ass, using her like this.”

  “You’re doing the job, which is sometimes ugly.”

  He rubbed his forehead. “I’d hoped to get out of that when I left the force.”

  “Well, once you’re done with this, you shouldn’t have too much that will rub you the wrong way. Except,” Ward snorted, “I think you’re getting rubbed particularly well if the blonde is the sister.”

  “Shut up.”

  “Fine. You have to decide if she’s involved. It could be a family operation. Be ready to turn her in, too. Don’t let your dick do the thinking.”

  “Yeah.” He didn’t look forward to discovering if Jess had a hand in the scheme, but Ward had a point. She certainly could, since she handled some of the money and kept the books. He’d glimpsed the spreadsheet on her computer that tallied the tithes. “The reverend has to be involved. He quizzed me about my past, and asked all kinds of questions about the type of investigations that I did. He’s as paranoid as some of those drug bosses in Baltimore. There could be some elders involved, too, but that might take some more time.”

  “Dig as much as you can.”

  “Certainly will.”

  “Are you going to woo the sister, too?”

  “No.” From what Jess shared, Teresa lived a strictly pious life, volunteering most hours of her day.

  “Well, go soothe your tortured soul a bit by doling out some food.”

  “I’m not so sure that this will do much good for me. I’m pretty far gone. I think my spot in hell is already reserved.”

  “You’ll have good company.”

  ****

  Jess hauled a box of strawberries into the church kitchen for the regular Saturday breakfast. Fresh from a fabulous performance, a connection with that TV guy about singing for the soundtrack, and the quickie with Drew, she bounced her way from place to place. Things were on a definite upswing. “These are pretty, Teresa. I bet we’ll get plenty of servings out of it.”

  “Wonderful to hear.” Teresa shoved her brown hair away from her face with a tight headband. “Get those cut up. Do we have enough sugar to put on them?”

  “Haven’t checked, but I don’t think it will be necessary.” She pulled out the plastic quart boxes and turned each one over. “They’ve just got that dry looking skin from being out too long. There isn’t much mold.”

  “Still, I like them to taste good. We didn’t get many sausages or bacon, so it’s a lot of pancakes and fruit today.”

  Jess nodded and went to work, not wanting to annoy her sister with questions or suggestions. Teresa had that frazzled look, like she hadn’t taken a shower. From her time living with them, she knew that only happened when Bill and Teresa argued. She never heard the words, though. The two of them shut themselves in their room, and neither of them yelled.

  As she chopped strawberries and very brown bananas, Jess greeted the three other volunteers for the morning. When she turned from her task to find the box of powdered sugar on the shelves, her mouth went dry. Drew, dressed in faded jeans and a red shirt that had seen too many washings, talked to her sister. She squared her shoulders and went to where they stood.

  “Jess,” her sister crooned, “I believe you’ve met Mr. Favreau.”

  She could tell by her sister’s eyes tha
t Drew interested her as well. Even with the concealing shirt, the man had women drooling. “I have. Nice to see you again.”

  “You, too.” He held out his hand to her. To Teresa, he said, “And, call me Drew. Mr. Favreau is my father.”

  She waved him off by showing her berry-stained fingers to him. She had visions of him licking off the juice as she drizzled it down her bare breasts. She’d let him do that later. “Sure.”

  Teresa cleared her throat. “I was just asking Drew if he would cook the pancakes.”

  Drew nodded. The sister showed all the signs of jealousy. She’d even sidled closer to him. “I’m good at it. Used to be my job at family gatherings. Show me the griddle, and I’ll do nothing but crank out the food.”

  “Just over here.” Teresa narrowed her eyes at Jess. “Don’t you need to finish that fruit and get the plates set up?”

  “I thought…”

  “No. It’s your job today. Get the fellowship hall ready for dining.” The woman dismissed her sister with a wave.

  Yep, Drew thought, definitely jealous and getting the sexy sister out of the way. “I’m good at moving tables, too.” He didn’t want to appear too eager to be with the preacher’s wife.

  “Jess knows how to do it very quickly. She helps out with the preschool.” She took Drew by the elbow. “Honestly, I don’t want Mr. Snyder cooking. He burned too many of them last weekend. These people might be hungry and willing to eat anything, but I like them to have something that tastes how it should.”

  Drew saw this as his opening. “So, you use volunteers for the work, but how to do you get the food?”

  Teresa beamed at him. “Well, it has taken time, but we’ve gotten a good network in place.”

  Drew shot Jessica a look as she watched them walk away. It wouldn’t be a bad thing to make her jealous. He could use that to his advantage in two ways. She might spill some information on the preacher’s wife to make her look bad.