Keeping Victoria's Secret

by Melinda Peters

  Jack leaned in and gently brushed her lips with his. “Victoria, take off your bra,” he whispered.

  The lust she saw in Jack’s eyes gave her the courage to reveal herself to him. Slowly, she pulled the straps from her shoulders. She looked down at her nipples, stiff and erect.

  Jack began to kiss and suckle her breasts as they filled his hands. There came a sharp intake of breath, as he worked his magic. She leaned back resting on her elbows, with eyes closed.

  Knowing instinctively what he wanted, she thrust out a breast to meet his hungry mouth. As he stroked and kissed her, she began to writhe with anticipation.

  With his free hand, he began removing his own clothing as quickly as he could.

  Her eyes popped open, and she launched herself forward into his arms. She was kissing him with a passion neither of them had expected. Together they peeled off the rest of Jack’s clothes until they lay naked in each other’s arms. The little peach panties were all that was between them. Jack continued exploring her breasts and thighs with his lips and hands, stroking and tasting.

  With one curious small hand she reached down and took hold of him. “Oh my God, Jack,” she murmured. “I want you so much. You need to know that I’ve never, oh God. I’ve never done this before.” Fascinated, her warm hand moved up and over, holding him, making him mad with desire.

  “Oh Victoria, my love.”

  "Oh, God please love me Jack," she murmured. "Let's do this please." Her head dropped back onto the pillow. Shivering, she wriggled under his touch, as he lightly ran his fingers down over her stomach and onto the silky peach material. He tickled and toyed with the creamy softness at the top of her thighs.

  “Jack, please, please! I want you to make love to me. I want you inside me. Please!”

  “Victoria,” Jack leaned over her, panting. “If you’re really sure, take your panties off for me. I want to watch you.”

  She slipped off the bed as Jack stared. Looking over her shoulder at him, she took hold of the fabric with both hands and bent over, sliding the panties down in one fluid motion over her bottom, and down her legs, pulling off the last remaining garment. When she bent over, her legs parted and Jack began to moan.

  She turned to face him asking, “Is this what you want? I’ll do anything you want. Just please make love to me now. Jack, I’m so ready. I’ve waited so long….”

  “Oh God,” moaned Jack. He grabbed her, rolled over placing himself between those beautiful legs, and began to kiss her thighs and beyond. Moving to his knees, he gently opened her, caressing, feeling her warm wetness.

  At the last moment Jack slowed and his movements became ever so gentle. Then, their whole world was searing hot and wild motion, faster and faster grinding into one another, until they both subsided with small purring sounds from deep within. From the open window, the morning breeze cooled their skin, as they lay close together, with hearts pounding.

  Chapter 13

  The sun tried to burn through the morning fog that afforded Gwendolyn a small measure of privacy. At any other time, she would find the view of the sea, from up here on the mountain spectacular, but for now, it was obscured by gray cloud and salty mist.

  She splashed happily in a pool that formed in a hollow where the clear stream was interrupted in its tumbling course down the hillside. Imprisoned on board the ship, she’d had only the occasional sponge bath of harsh salt water. It was so long since she’d had the luxury to bathe, the water felt wonderful, though the chill made her nipples ache and stiffen. In the pirate’s booty, she’d discovered some fine lavender soaps that she lathered her hair and body with freely.

  Finally feeling clean, she pulled herself up onto the mossy bank, water streaming from her pink glowing skin. Shivering with cold and wet in the cool morning air, she dashed for her clothes, dressing quickly before the Captain could return and catch a glimpse of her naked. She struggled into the drab shirt and trousers in which Captain Jack had her masquerading as one of his crew.

  Captain Jack rose silently like a wraith from the undergrowth around the pool. Suddenly he was there beside her. The ferocity of his flashing dark eyes was tempered by the grin splitting his face. She tried to step back, but he grasped her arm to draw her close. In that instant, their eyes locked and something passed between the two that sent shivers of a different nature coursing through her. Jack’s grip tightened, and then moved upwards ever so slowly. She was on her feet, but he was much taller. He gazed down at her before gently lowering his mouth to hers. His kisses made her knees grow weak as she trembled in his strong arms. Her head swam. She was instantly alive with both desire and fear.

  Unaware of how it happened, she found herself sitting on the gentle rise of a grassy dune. Sweet tropical grasses were fragrant, crushed beneath them. The air was filled with the scent of damp earth and the sea. As the morning fog came rolling in, it enveloped them.

  Jack’s probing kisses deepened as her lips parted for him. His arms held her tightly as his hands moved over her. Helplessly she watched, eyes lowered, as he undid the buttons of her damp shirt one by one, moving downward until it was gone, tossed aside, exposing her full breasts. She lay back submissively, as he stared at her aching nipples. Something strong and vibrant stirred deep within her. Overwhelmed by the realization that she wanted him, wanted this to happen, she was filled with horror. It was as though she didn’t know her own mind.

  “Get to your feet and remove the rest of your clothing; I want to look at you.” he said.

  Rising slowly like a woman in a trance, she was afraid to disobey him but equally afraid because she knew that she would willingly obey his every wish.

  From "Caribbean Fire", By Tori Baxter

  * * *

  Vicky’s fingers flew over the keys and words sprang onto the screen before her. She was on a roll. Some days, the ideas and the words just flowed and writing seemed almost effortless. As she typed, she hummed along with the music coming softly from the CD player on top of the bookshelf behind her. Memories of making love with Jack, and the brilliant sunshine streaming through her office window, crowded worries of losing the farm out of her mind entirely.

  So absorbed in her work was she, that the clearing of a throat coming from the doorway into her office made her jump. Emitting a high-pitched squeak she swiveled in her chair. A grinning Jack Conner was right behind her.

  “I guess you didn’t hear me knocking? I heard you on the computer and the music, so I just came on in. Sorry if I scared you.”

  “No, no, it’s okay. Guess I was kind of pre-occupied. Sorry!”

  His gaze settled on the laptop screen. Immediately she turned, hands flew over the keyboard and the text disappeared. She reached up and closed the lid.

  “Sorry, I should have heard you. Come in. Would you like some coffee? I’m ready for a cup.”

  “I’m good, but you go ahead.”

  Embarrassed, she picked up her coffee mug and slipped past him into the kitchen. Pouring coffee, she called over her shoulder, “Maybe some breakfast? I was just about to have something.”

  Jack took her cup, set it down, and turned her to face him. He paused, studying her. Their eyes met and locked for a long moment.

  “Yesterday was wonderful,” he said.

  “Yes,” was all she could manage. It had been wonderful. Eventually they’d even found time to look through the contents of the old trunk.

  She hadn’t any idea just how wonderful and enjoyable sex could be. All her detailed writing about making love was simply recycled material from other authors. This new experience could only enhance her ability to put it into words. That in fact, was precisely what she’d been doing when interrupted by Jack.

  In the clear light of a new day, they were both hesitant, unsure of how to begin.

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to make something?”

  “No, Victoria. Listen, about yesterday,” his words trailing away.

  “You were… Well you were very nice, very gentle. Jack, I had
no idea…it could be so fantastic.”

  “Victoria, don’t get me wrong. It was great. Really great. What I’m trying to say is that I’m not ready to make what you’d call a commitment.”

  Icy fingers of dread crept along her spine as she froze, digesting his meaning. Jack was trying to let her down easy. She was falling in love with him, but the feeling apparently wasn’t reciprocated.

  “Jack, come on. Did you really think I was expecting a marriage proposal this morning?” Turning away she sipped her coffee.

  He shifted, unsure of how to reply. “Vicky, I’m sure you feel...,”

  “What?” She smiled, unwilling to let him see her pain. “We’re both adults. You don’t owe me anything. We’re going to stay out of each other’s way, remember? You take care of the farm and I’ll take care of the house. No problem. Really, Jack”

  “I don’t want you to think that I don’t like you, Victoria. I do. I like you very much, and yesterday….”

  She sat down at the table with her coffee. “Listen. Yesterday was wonderful Jack, but now I’m so ready to just move on. It’s history. Please don’t try to sugar coat the fact that it was just a one-night stand. I realize that. You did poor little Vicky a favor. Well thanks, Jack. Now let’s just forget it.” She continued to go through the motions of drinking coffee.

  She hadn’t intended to become angry but she couldn’t help it. I was a fool to let him into my life. I knew what he was. Why did he have to go and ruin everything this morning? With regret, she realized that she was falling in love with him, but none of that mattered now. Jack didn’t want her and she might lose the farm. I could just cry. My morning started out so nicely and now....

  The old rotary dial telephone on the kitchen wall rang, startling them both. They stared at it, neither moving to answer.

  “Not many people even have that number. Doc and Fred, maybe a couple of other people. Who’d be calling so early? Want me to get it?” asked Jack.

  “No, this is my house, I’ll answer the phone.” She strode to the other side of the kitchen and yanked the receiver from its cradle. “Hello?” she barked and then listened in silence.

  “All right Fred, I’ll tell him, and thanks for everything.” She hung up the phone, turned and walked stiffly to the sink, staring toward the apple trees in the distance.

  “Fred?” he asked. Frowning she glanced over at him. Jack thought her expression strange, as though she were seeing him for the first time after waking from a bad dream.

  “Yes, it was Fred. I’m afraid it’s bad news. Last night Van Winkle’s lawyer in Albany faxed Fred some documents. There’s a copy of the original will from my great-grandparents, Alexander Willet’s military records, birth records for Van Winkle and his father…. Fred says it’s ironclad. Van Winkle is the rightful heir, legally. He says we can still contest it but there’s not much chance. He wants to see me later today. Oh, and he wants you there too.”

  He nodded, his face darkening and hands balled into tight fists at his side. “I told you Victoria, I’m not going to roll over and give up. I’ll fight this one way or another. Van Winkle will only get this place over my dead body. We’ll talk to Fred later about our options. Why don’t you come over to my apartment and I’ll fix you something to eat? I’m sorry I got off on the wrong foot with you this morning. I didn’t mean to sound like yesterday meant nothing to me. That’s not it. Please let’s start over, okay?”

  “All right.” Vicky nodded and started for the door. He followed her as she marched through the back porch and down the steps, screen door banging behind them. Neither spoke a word until they’d climbed the flight of stairs to the apartment over the garage.

  Vicky looked around the big room, which was surprisingly neat and uncluttered.

  “What do you think? Kind of nice, isn’t it? How about I make you some eggs, bacon, toast and coffee? Don’t think of it as a late breakfast, but an early lunch instead.”

  “I’m not very hungry, toast would be fine.” Vicky looked for a place to sit, choosing a chair at his small table.

  “I guess you’ve never been over here, have you?” he said.

  “No, of course I haven’t. Well I was never invited, was I?”

  “No, I guess you weren’t.” Her face had gone ghostly pale. “Victoria, I’ll make you the best breakfast you’ve ever tasted. Please stop worrying. Things will be okay, you’ll see.”

  “I know Jack. That’s what you keep saying, but I’m having a hard time believing it.”

  As he busied himself in the kitchen area in one corner, she made a slow circuit of the room.

  “You have quite a library going on here. Lots of poetry, a complete works of Shakespeare, and some of the classics,” she said

  From the corner came a sizzle as he tossed bacon into a large skillet. Buttering English muffins, he slipped them under a broiler.

  “You’re very domestic.”

  “Yeah, well.” He lifted his shoulder. “I try.”

  While he worked, she continued her circuit of the room, reading the spines of books on his shelf. In spite of her barely contained emotions, she was still curious about Jack Conner.

  “Oh Jack, you’ve got the “Freddy the Pig” series by Walter Brooks. Have you read all these?”

  He looked over his shoulder at her for a moment and shrugged. “The Freddy books were what got me started reading as a kid. I kept them because I figured someday my own kids might like them.”

  Ignoring his remark about children she asked, “Have you read all that poetry?”

  “Yeah, I read a little poetry now and again, but don’t tell anybody.”

  “My lips are sealed. Won’t tell a soul,” she said reading more titles.

  When the bacon and eggs were done, Jack removed the muffins from the broiler and filled their plates. The bacon smelled delicious and she realized that she was hungry after all. Arranging everything, Jack brought it to the table. “Get ‘em while they’re hot,” he said motioning for her to join him.

  She looked down at her plate and began to nibble a slice of bacon. “Now I know your little secret and I guess you know mine.”

  “What secret is that?” he asked.

  “The fact that I’m, or I was…. I had no experience with men. Not until yesterday.”

  “Victoria, I am really sorry about the way I approached everything earlier. I just didn’t want you to get the idea that I was....” He ducked his head and studied his plate. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  They ate in silence for a few minutes.

  She got up and brought her empty plate to the sink. “I’m sorry; I’ve got to go. I’ll see you at Fred’s office and we’ll figure out just what we’re up against. Thanks for breakfast."

  “I’d like to take you to Fred’s office, I mean; I'll drive if that's all right.”

  She didn't seem to hear him, but stared out the window. “I guess if I’m going to… If we’re going to lose the property, I can always go back to Jersey. I have family there, my dad's family. I thought about New York too. I have a few friends in the city. This whole experience was like a dream. It seems like a nightmare right now, but yesterday it was a sweet dream. Some dreams are just like that I guess.”

  She stood looking out the window at the flowerbeds Jack had tilled for her, waiting for the flowers that would never be planted. She fought back tears as the back of Nanna’s farmhouse filled her vision, taunting her. Looking into her bedroom window, she saw the patchwork quilt on her new sleigh bed, and into her bathroom. She could see it all quite clearly.

  “Jack, I can see right into my room from here. Did you know that? If the curtains are open, like they are now… Jack?”

  He looked up at her startled, wide eyed, like a little boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Really?”

  “You pig! You’ve been watching me, haven’t you?”

  “Well, I…,” he began.

  “You were spying on me like some pervert voyeur, weren’t you? I can’t belie
ve you did that”

  Jack shrugged helplessly.

  Just the thought of him watching her from his apartment, during her most private moments, caused her to cringe. Striding to the door she opened it turned and said, “Just be at Fred’s office at one o’clock.”

  The door slammed behind her and her footsteps receded down the stairs. He didn’t get up. A moment later, he heard the screen door at the house slam shut. When he did look at Vicky’s window, he saw that the curtains were drawn and shades pulled down.

  He sighed heavily. Damn, some days you just can’t win.

  * * *

  “Oh, Dear me,” Elvira said aloud as she sat back, contemplating what she’d read in the diary. Alone in her room while reading her mother’s thoughts, she’d found exactly what she’d hoped to discover. It concerned Alexander Willet, his marriage to Betsy, and Theodore’s birth.

  Would this information assist Fred in his efforts to help Jack and Victoria? It was all so long ago. She wasn’t a lawyer, but doubted that the words written in a diary sixty-five years before carried much weight legally. Uncertain if she should divulge all she’d learned, she considered her options, and then decided. We’ll talk with Fred. He’ll know what to do.

  Chapter 14

  When Vicky arrived at his office, Fred rose and smiled. “Thank you for coming Victoria. Please make yourself comfortable,” he said motioning her toward the chair next to Jack.

  She tugged at the large chair moving it farther away. Giving him a frosty glare, she sat down stiffly.

  Jack rolled his eyes. “I guess I’m not forgiven,” he mumbled into his hand.

  She glanced his way, glaring.

  “What?” asked Fred.

  “Nothing.” Jack smiled. “Thanks, I’m good.”

  “Well. If we’re ready....” The lawyer cleared his throat, eyeing them, as he carefully arranged papers neatly before him on a large antique desk. This was an unpleasant business. Sometimes in the course of practicing law, Fred had to impart bad news to his clients. Unfortunately, this was one of those times. He didn’t want to tell these young people that the probability of Vicky retaining ownership of the Willet property was tenuous at best.