by Dawn Atkins
It was kind of worshipful and that was dangerous, but it was so Tom and so nice, she just let it be. She locked her fingers into his dear hair and let him desire her.
Then his fingers slid under the bottom edge of her panties and gently touched her. Flames flew along her nerves and seemed to shoot out her fingertips.
Oh. She rubbed against his hand, really getting into it, until she remembered her purpose was to give him pleasure first. She pushed him onto his back on the bed and slithered down so she could tug at his belt. He lifted his butt so she could push off his pants and briefs. Then she took his swollen penis—as big and beautiful as the rest of him—into her hand and slid her fingers up and down its length, cupping his testicles with her other hand.
He quivered and exhaled in a whoosh. She tightened her fingers and kept moving up and down, feeling his flesh slide the way it soon would inside her body. He groaned, pushing into her hand. Then he found his way under her panties again. He surprised her with a finger inside her.
Electricity shot through her. She lost awareness. Focus, she told herself. She had a goal here, but Tom kept sidetracking her with amazingly perfect things. While his forefinger performed magic, his mouth found her nipple and his teeth closed on its edges with a gentle tightness that was perfect. She was pinned by sensation—a wire from where he tantalized her nipple to where his fingers explored her most intimate spot.
Her vision faded again. He was so sure and so good with his fingers and mouth. Her self-control was shot and she jerked and quivered and moaned like a teen with her first experienced lover.
“Is that good?” he breathed. “I want you to like it.”
“Oh, yes. I like it. Like it lots,” she said. “It’s good…good…good-good.” She didn’t know what she was saying anymore.
“I can’t believe I’m touching you like this,” he said. “You are so perfect.”
She looked into his eyes and saw danger. Lust and desire and yearning and caring. She wanted to melt into that look, but she knew its dark side—demands and expectations and inevitable disappointment. With all her might, she pulled herself away from his pleasuring hand and mouth, yanked her panties off, and deliberately impaled herself on his uplifted penis.
“Wait,” he gasped, trying to stop her hips. “I have…condoms.”
“I’m on the Pill. No diseases. You?”
“None,” he groaned out.
She shoved past his resistance until her parts reached his belly, glorying in the wonder of being filled by him. His delicious length reached all the way to her cervix and tried to push beyond. Let me in. I want in, it seemed to say. He looked up at her in wonder and his hands grasped her hips possessively.
She lifted and lowered herself rapidly several times, knowing he would love the friction. He did. His eyes closed and his face contorted with pleasure.
She arched herself at him. Her breasts ached for his mouth, her clit begged for his touch.
As if he’d read her mind, he pulled a nipple deeply into his mouth. More electricity, like a line of lightning to her throbbing sex, which his other thumb abruptly and perfectly found.
And, then, despite all her efforts to put his pleasure first, she held still while, with a few gentle strokes, he propelled her into an orgasm that rocked her to her soul. Impaled on his penis, she writhed and twisted, shuddered and bucked helplessly, all the while making choked sounds.
She vaguely heard him breathe, “Yes. That’s right. Come on, baby. Go, beautiful.”
As the orgasm began to fade, she became aware that Tom’s penis was pounding into her. He gripped her hips as if to squeeze the life from her, then climaxed with a great surge. He’d waited to see her safely to her release before he allowed himself his own. The chivalry of that gesture electrified her, shoving her up the hill and over, catching the tail end of his orgasm with a powerful one of her own.
What a dear man. She felt strange, almost homesick. As if she’d been missing something all her life that this old-fashioned guy had just offered up as sweet and easy as breathing. She clutched him, feeling their hearts pound out messages to each other, their lungs expand and contract for air they couldn’t seem to get enough of, and tried not to scare herself. The first time was always special, she told herself. And she’d worked hard for this one. That had to explain this power, this amazing connection.
The night passed in a blur of sensations—strokes and kisses, gasps and cries, rocking and sweating and groaning out loud. A whirl of pleasure and passion.
Late, late into the night, when Tina was still panting from the orgasm Tom had brought her to from behind, she felt his body go heavy, and his hardworking penis twitch lazily inside her. He’d fallen asleep.
She liked men to leave when the action was over for the night. She liked the bed to herself for sleep. But she knew she couldn’t ask Tom to go. It would hurt his feelings. And she didn’t want to do anything that would keep her from more sex with him. A lot more sex. The rest of it she wouldn’t think about.
Tom’s heavy arm found its way to her breast, and even though she felt smothered and crowded and nervous as hell, his steady breath soothed her fears. For now.
11
“I DID IT,” Tina crowed, standing on Kara’s porch on Sunday morning with a McDonald’s sack—another breakfast Kara wouldn’t get to eat, she was sure. Luckily, she’d already had some yogurt and granola.
“Did what?” Kara asked wearily. She’d gotten home late from the arrest fantasy with Ross, which had been more erotic than either of them had expected. Ross had found some toy handcuffs and they’d sort of added some elements of the Love Thief to remarkable effect. The end result was sore muscles, sated body and a very late night.
“I slept with Tom,” Tina said, marching into the apartment. She dropped the sack on the table. “Food.”
“You’ve sunk to McDonald’s? What happened to Karsh’s Bakery?” She’d rather almost get to eat quality pastries than fast-food ones.
Tina shrugged and pulled out two orange juices and three plastic-wrapped Danishes. “I was distracted and drove past the bakery.”
To pass up her pastry shrine, she must have been in a trance. “So, you slept with Tom. You make it sound like you just climbed Mt. Everest.”
“Oh, yeah. He was huge.”
“You don’t mean that.” The light in Tina’s eyes was too strong to be based only on Tom’s physical prowess. There was more to this than a Tina sexploit. She was actually blushing.
“So what happened?”
Tina dished the details of her seduction by shoulder rub and erotic Popsicle licking, and Tom’s caving in on his ultimatum. When she finished, Kara said, “But it was more than sex, right?”
“What?” Tina gave her a sharp look.
“I can tell by your face. You’re involved.” Tina hadn’t even cracked an orange juice and the Danish rested untouched on the table.
“No.” Tina shook her head violently.
Kara picked up a Danish. “Mind if I have one?”
“No, no. Help yourself,” she said distractedly.
Too bad it wasn’t the usual fabulous baked goods, since Kara was actually going to get to taste some this time. She peeled the wrapping from one and handed it to Tina before opening her own.
Tina held the Danish but didn’t take a bite. “I did let him spend the night. You think he’ll think that means I’m giving in?”
The pastry wasn’t half-bad, Kara noticed, finishing it in quick bites. She took the one she’d given Tina and bit off a chunk before she answered. “Would that be so terrible? You like him, he likes you. Maybe you’re ready to settle down.”
“No way. I take care of myself. I’m not like my mom, tiptoeing around an awful man because I’m afraid to be alone.”
“You’re not that much like your mother.”
“I work at it, too.” Tina stared into space, scared to death, Kara could tell. “Even if I wanted to get serious—and I’m not saying I do, because I don’t—it woul
d never be with Tom. He’s studying to be an engineer, for God’s sake. His idea of an exciting evening is watching a PBS special on the insect world. That’s not me. That’s boring.”
“You didn’t seem bored when you were scheming to snare him.”
“That’s the point. Now that I have him, I’ll lose interest. After a while anyway. After a lot of fabulous, mind-bending sex.”
“Maybe you’re just afraid to be hurt. Maybe you’re rejecting him before he can reject you.”
Tina’s face went stony. “Don’t psychoanalyze me, Kara. You’re my friend, not my shrink.”
“Sorry. I just want you to be happy.”
“I am happy. For now. And that’s all anyone gets—right now. Beyond that it’s wishful thinking. And I made that clear to Tom before we went at it.” She looked more worried than happy, Kara saw.
Kara opened another Danish and dug in. “You know, this isn’t half-bad. How are their apple pies?”
Tina drummed her polished nails on the table. “Could I get some focus here.”
“Sure, sure,” she said, chagrined. She’d been so busy eating, she’d forgotten Tina’s problem for a second. Plus she saw she was eating the last Danish. She was turning into Tina.
“I just want things to stay like this for a while, you know?” Tina said.
“Maybe it will work out,” she said, pressing her fingertip to a large crumb of Danish and eating it.
“Why does this have to be so hard?” Tina sighed. “Tell me about you and Ross. At least that’s working out.”
“Working out?” Kara’s Danish-filled stomach lurched at the thought. “I’m kind of worried actually. The other night I fell asleep at his place and he put me to bed.”
“Really?” She leaned forward. “What was the fantasy? Midnight intruder?”
“That’s the problem. It was no fantasy. It was very real. And I woke up at three in the morning feeling so happy to be in his bedroom with all his junk. He was sleeping on the sofa, being a gentleman, and he looked so sweet I just wanted to drag him into bed and cuddle all night.”
“You wanted to cuddle? Uh-uh-uh. That’s a bad sign.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” she said sharply. Tina’s alarm confirmed her own fears. She couldn’t shake the comfort of being around Ross, the pleasure of his company, even watching stupid basketball. “I’m afraid I’m doing it again, Tina. Confusing lust with love.”
“But Ross is completely wrong for you.”
“But he doesn’t seem quite so wrong anymore. He’s sweet and loyal and loving and responsible.”
“And an overgrown kid with a million women on a string and no intention of changing that.”
“I know,” she almost sobbed. “That’s what’s killing me.”
“Damn. This was supposed to cure you of falling in love, not send you over the cliff.”
“What should I do?”
But Tina was frowning at the pile of torn cellophane and empty juice containers on the table. “You ate everything.”
“Sorry. I’ve got granola and yogurt.”
She scrunched up her nose. “Any Ho-Hos or Twinkies?”
Kara just looked at her.
“Right. No junk food here.” She made a cross with her fingers. “I just thought with Ross around you might have branched out into some red dye and preservatives.” She got up and started rummaging in Kara’s refrigerator, emerging with the aerosol can of whipped cream, bottle of chocolate syrup, and bowl of strawberries left over from Ross and Kara’s body-dessert fantasy.
Tina sat down with her bounty. “Are you sure you’re screwing up?” she asked, lacing a strawberry with syrup. She topped the berry with whipped cream and bit it from its stem.
“Pretty sure. Baylor Jones asked me out and I had no interest.”
“Baylor Jones? He’s cute. And not a tight-ass like Scott. He’d be perfect for you. That is bad.” Tina leaned her head back and squirted whipped cream into her mouth.
“And I’ve been kind of fixing up Ross’s apartment like I’m thinking about living there.” She swallowed hard. “I had a fleeting thought of him in a tux and me in a wedding dress.”
“Whaa—?” Tina’s head snapped forward, her mouth wide with fluffy cream before she slowly closed down on it.
“We were talking about a virgin bride fantasy, but still…”
“It’s obvious what you have to do,” Tina said firmly, squirting cream into her mouth from the side.
“What?”
Tina gulped down the cloud of foam. “Go out with Baylor.”
“What?”
“The only cure for a bad man is a new man. Trust me, I know these things. Quit with Ross and start with Baylor.”
She did like Baylor. She had to do something to break the bad cycle. And he’d said he’d be around. “Okay,” she said slowly. “I’ll, um, do that. One of these days.”
“Not one of these days. This Saturday.” Tina pointed a strawberry at Kara for emphasis before slathering it with whipped cream.
“This Saturday? But Ross has something set up and—”
“Kara,” Tina thrust the white-topped strawberry under her nose. “Tell Ross it’s over.”
Tina was right. She’d been fooling herself that things weren’t so bad. “All right,” she said, accepting the lush fruit, inhaling its sweet smell. Mmm. Ross had fed her these as part of their body tasting.
“Kara,” Tina said, seeming to read her mind. “Do it. You have to.”
“I know,” she said, and put down the tempting strawberry. If only Ross were as easy to resist.
ON SATURDAY NIGHT, Kara stood on the corner in drizzling rain waiting for Ross. He was late, which was nothing new, but the rain made it annoying. Plus it gave her time to regret not breaking things off on Thursday.
She’d had every opportunity during dinner at his apartment, but he’d been so excited about an antique blues album he’d spent a fortune on, she couldn’t bring it up. That very purchase was an example of why she had no business thinking of a relationship with the man. He didn’t even own a car, but he spent thousands of dollars on old music. Lately, for every thing she dug up that they had in common—a sense of humor, a good imagination—she tripped over three more they disagreed about. Big ones, too, like finances, work, the future.
Then he’d brought out a Victoria’s Secret catalogue and showed her what he’d ordered for her, so she couldn’t bring herself to ruin the moment by telling him it was over.
She had managed to keep him from adding new fantasies to the list he’d insisted they make by starting a debate about his algae-laden Charlie’s Angels’ shower curtain. She wanted to replace it for the sake of science—there were probably cures for six diseases growing there—and he insisted on keeping it for sentimental reasons. He’d bought it in mint condition at a nostalgia shop and it was exactly like the one he’d lusted over during the onset of puberty.
In the end, she just left with everything unsaid. The taxi fantasy was too exciting, anyway. Now she was waiting for Ross and the taxi and worrying about breaking it off. Water dripped off her nose. Why did he have to be late all the time?
Finally she spotted a beat-up white car with a taxi sign on top approaching. It rattled up to her, some metal part scraping the road and rumbling so loudly the muffler must be gone, then squealed to a halt.
Ross lunged out and loped to her side of the car. “Sorry I’m late,” he said. He even wore a chauffeur’s cap. “The thing was junked up inside so I took it to a car wash, but the vacuum wasn’t working, so I had to go to another one.” He paused, zeroed in on her chest. “The stuff came,” he said in a dazed Ross voice.
She looked down and saw the new Victoria’s Secret teddy was visible through her soaked silk blouse.
“Yes, it did,” she whispered, loving the lust on his face. If they quit now, Ross wouldn’t see the rest of the new lingerie. That gave her heart a pang. Maybe they’d keep on long enough to sample the new outfits—plus, she still had
the body paints from the Naughty and Nice lingerie store. No, no. This has to stop.
“Hop in,” Ross said, doffing his cap. “I know just the place to take you.”
“I’m sure you do,” she said. And she was sure, from oh, so many nights with him. She sat, keeping her legs apart so her skirt rode high on her thigh to tantalize him.
Ross made an appreciative noise, then leaned in to help her with the seat belt, deliberately sliding the back of his hands across her breasts and stomach as he adjusted the strap. The sensation set her on fire, as she knew he knew it would.
Ross closed his eyes, obviously trying to gather himself to keep from falling on her.
“I know,” she whispered. She wanted to grab him by his T-shirt and pull him onto her. Why waste time driving when he’d only borrowed the cab for three hours?
But Ross stood with a sigh. “Hang on. We’ll get there soon enough, miss.” He tipped his hat again and went to the driver’s seat.
She noticed that the dusty, musty, motor-oil smell of most cabs had been masked by car freshener. Ross had been late trying to make their fantasy lovelier. See how thoughtful he is.
But it has to stop, she reminded herself. No more after this.
They set off, the rain tapping cozily on the roof of the cab, the wipers swishing rhythmically—at least they worked. Ross pointed out landmarks and historical places, giving everything a colorful flair.
She recognized the information from an ad campaign they’d done for the city’s visitors’ bureau, though she was surprised at how much Ross had retained. He acted as if he didn’t care about anything but the art of a project, but he absorbed all the nuances. She’d been right to put the bug in Siegel’s ear about him taking over the creative department manager’s job.
She’d done that yesterday over Tina’s objections. What are you doing? Giving Ross a makeover? Turning him into someone you could fall in love with? If only Tina would pull her punches a little. Kara was just helping Ross. The fact she was about to end their game proved it.
