Making Over Maris

by Sabrina York

  But damn, it was hard.

  In fact, lots of things were hard.

  The moment shattered when the waiter burst in on them with dessert menus. Sara didn’t want dessert but she ordered some—tiramisu, with espresso—because she didn’t want this date to end, not yet. It had become far too interesting.

  Jack’s attention was completely, utterly and incontrovertibly on her. He wasn’t thinking about Jenny at all. She was fairly certain of that.

  Jack ordered nothing for dessert, patting his belly and murmuring something about watching his carbs.

  His roving foot had stilled while the waiter took her order. It rested there, warm against hers, and big. Sara quivered. She was stunned at the reaction she’d felt to his touch. Or…maybe not.

  She’d been thinking about him all afternoon.

  It was weird, thinking about Jack in that way. She’d known him for so long and he’d always been her incredibly smart, slightly dopey friend. But he seemed so different now. He was so different now. And it wasn’t only his appearance.

  He acted differently. And it was…kinda hot.

  The expressions on his face were steamy and sultry—although they could always have been like that; she’d simply never been able to see them before through all the fur. He listened to her. He fixed his attention on her as though he was totally into her.

  And that was a fucking balm to her ego. Something she needed like she needed air.

  That scene with Todd—and his subsequent desertion—had destroyed her confidence. Destroyed a piece of herself.

  But being here like this, with Jack, swept all that heartache away like a tsunami. He made her feel special. Beautiful. Important. He needed her help, wanted her in his life, which was wonderful.

  Also wonderful? The heat curling in her pussy as he teased her beneath the table.

  What a surprise that had been.

  Never in a million years would she ever have visualized herself taking Jack home for a ride on the Sara Express. Never. In a million years.

  How bizarre that she was contemplating it now. And actually drooling a bit.

  Yeah, it was a shocking realization but she wanted Jack Maris.

  Sure, the guy had the hots for Jenny, but Jenny had a boyfriend. And a girlfriend. Maybe even a tribe. She didn’t need Jack too.

  Would it be so wrong to turn his head? To seduce him?

  She was a big girl. She knew what she was getting into. She knew it wouldn’t be a relationship. A one-night stand. Maybe two.

  She’d think of it as training. Training for Jack.

  And fun for her.

  Because after all, he was astoundingly hot.

  Yes. She would. She would seduce Jack Maris and give him the night of his nerdy little life.

  It was time to kick this date into high gear.

  So when their waiter brought her dessert in and set it down in front of her with a flourish, she asked for a second fork.

  “Why do you need another fork?” Jack asked after the exceedingly attentive waiter scampered off. Seriously. When she ate out she usually had to wave her napkin and bellow to get service. It must be Jack. He exuded…something tonight. Something that demanded attention.

  He certainly demanded her attention.

  She stroked his instep with her toe. “We’re going to share this.”

  He blanched. “S-share it?”

  “Mmm hmm.” She stuck her fork into the pastry and murmured as it crumbled. Then she brought a bite to her mouth. His attention was locked on her. Every movement. Every breath. His Adam’s apple bobbed as she parted her lips and slowly slipped the fork inside. Drew it out even more slowly.

  He gulped.

  She repeated the action but this time put the fork to his lips. His nostrils flared as he took in the cake. He seemed to have trouble swallowing.

  Probably because he forgot to chew.

  “Good?” she asked in a purr.

  “Very good.” He took a sip of her espresso. “Although I don’t see why we need another fork.”

  She narrowed her eyes and nearly hissed at him, so great was her annoyance. Here she was, trying to create a steamy, sexy mood between them, to hand-feed him a luscious dessert, and then he went and ruined it with some stupid logical comment.

  But then he scooted closer and whispered, “Because it’s so much more fun to share…”

  And all her annoyance evaporated.

  Chapter Six

  After dinner he took her home. Sara’s body hummed with excitement the whole way.

  She’d been on a lot of dates with a lot of guys. Some of them she’d slept with. But she’d never felt this kind of tension.

  Maybe it was because she wasn’t really sure if he wanted her.

  Oh, she knew he would fuck her. She knew if she crooked her finger toward the bedroom, he’d be naked in her bed in a flash. Jack had the reputation around the office for being a regular horndog, a guy who would mate with anything that moved—if it would hold still long enough.

  But did he want her?

  On the other hand, did it matter?

  She’d already resigned herself to abject spinsterhood. She was never going to find that guy. The one who would love her and cherish her and complete her.

  That left only this.

  And she wanted him.

  And he was horny.

  She would seduce him.

  Tonight.

  Strictly for training purposes.

  He pulled up in front of her house and cut the engine. She turned to ask him to come in but he was already out of the car and heading around to open her door. His hand was warm as he helped her from the low seat, his gaze warmer. He walked her up on to the porch and stopped.

  He glanced at her and ran a finger around his collar. “So. Sara. I have a question.”

  “Yes?” She stepped closer.

  “I’ve been thinking about this all night. You know. How to handle this. I found a website online that said open communication was the best approach when—”

  “Jack.”

  He blinked. “Yes, Sara?”

  “What’s your question?”

  “Do-do I kiss you good night?”

  A thrill danced through her. “Do you want to?”

  “Yes.”

  “All right then.”

  “It won’t be a fake kiss though.”

  “A what?”

  “Well…” He shuffled his feet. “This is a fake date. I wasn’t sure what kind of kiss you give on a fake date. But I don’t want to give you a fake kiss.”

  Why, oh why, did that melt her heart? It was a stupid, goofy, dorky thing to say. But also unbearably sweet.

  “A real kiss would be fine, Jack. But no lip mashing.”

  He frowned. “Lip mashing?”

  “Or teeth. Don’t bang teeth. Oh, and—”

  “I know how to kiss,” he huffed.

  “Take it slow and easy.”

  “I know how to kiss.”

  “Slow and—”

  And dear God, he did it. Slow and easy.

  And God…

  His lips touched hers, merely brushed them. Back and forth. Back and forth, teasing. And then he pressed a bit more. Sucked her bottom lip, nibbled. A tad.

  She moaned, maybe. Maybe a little.

  The kiss ended far too soon.

  It left her panting.

  When she sidled up against him, he didn’t back away. Probably because she had a hold of his lapel. “Do it again,” she demanded.

  “Again?”

  “It wasn’t quite right.”

  “Not quite right?” He frowned. “What did I do wrong?”

  “Just do it again.” She tugged him closer. Kissed him. Ah yes. His mouth was firm and strong. Delicious. He tasted like tiramisu and coffee and Jack. She nudged her tongue between his lips, licked him. His groan reverberated through her body. She stepped closer still, pressing herself against him from chest to—oh God.

  Was that…?

  It w
as!

  She nearly chortled. One kiss and he was hard for her.

  Yes. He was definitely a balm to her ego.

  He was so getting laid tonight.

  But then he pulled away, stormed to the other side of her postage-stamp porch. He raked his fingers through what was left of his hair. “Whoa, Sara. I think we’d better stop.”

  “Stop?” Seriously? Was he rejecting her? Maybe that rigid bulge hadn’t been what she thought it was.

  “I’m not…I can’t…I’m trying to…” He sputtered into silence.

  “What?”

  “Damn it, Sara. I’m trying to be a gentleman.”

  Shit. Where had he gotten that ridiculous idea? At any rate she wasn’t ready to let him go. “Come in.”

  “I don’t think I should.”

  “You have to. Come on. We need to do a postmortem.”

  He blinked. “A postmortem?”

  “Yes.” She took him by the sleeve and tugged him inside. Shut the door. Spun on him. “We need to go over the whole evening and discuss where you could have done better.”

  “Done better?”

  “Yes. Come on. I have a great bottle of Moscato.”

  “I don’t think I should drink any more.” He glanced over his shoulder, toward his car. As though he wanted to escape.

  “One glass. You barely had any at the restaurant.”

  “I know. I have to drive.”

  “Come on, Jack.” She forced herself to glare at him. Schooled her voice into a pedantic tone. “We have a lot to go over.”

  His face fell. “Did I do that bad?”

  “No. Honestly. You did great. But there are some things we should cover while the memory’s fresh. Not the least of which is taking cues.”

  “Taking cues?”

  “Yeah. How to tell when a woman is willing. For one.”

  That got his attention. He cleared his throat. “Did I…miss any cues?”

  She frowned. “You missed plenty.”

  “I did?”

  “Yes.”

  “For instance?”

  “Well, the foot thing.”

  “I figured that out.”

  “Sharing a dessert.”

  “Okay…”

  “A woman never shares her dessert with a man she’s not…into.”

  “Into?” His eyes glazed over for a minute. “Are you into me, Sara?”

  She ignored him. He was an idiot. “And that kiss? How could you not tell from that kiss?”

  “It was a nice kiss.”

  “It was a fantastic kiss!”

  He preened. “Did you really think so?”

  “Yes! Damn it, Jack!” She spun away and crossed her arms over her chest. Hell. She’d sent him cues all night long and he’d ignored them. Every one. Bloody he—

  He came up behind her. His warmth touched her first. Then his hand on her shoulder. He turned her. He tipped her chin with two fingers. “Look at me, Sara.” She did. She tried to glower but failed. “I liked that kiss. A lot. But I agree. I don’t think we got it quite right.”

  What the fuck? She gaped at him.

  His lips, framed by his tightly manicured beard, twitched. “I’d like to try it again.”

  Oh. She liked that idea.

  He didn’t wait for her permission. She liked that as well.

  “Let’s see…” He put his palms on each cheek, held her still as he edged in. And his lips, on hers, not tentative or soft at all. She liked that a lot.

  He kissed her and her pulse raced, her body trembled, her arousal flared. Her nipples tightened. Her pussy wept. He wrapped his arms around her and deepened the kiss. He practically consumed her. And she melted.

  “I was trying to be a gentleman,” he repeated as his hand drifted from her waist to her ribs then up over her breasts. When his fingers made contact with her nipple, she gasped. “I was trying to take it slow.” She clutched at him, panting in his ear as his other hand slipped down over the globes of her ass and onto her bare thigh. It drifted up, under her skirt.

  Her belly flipped, her heart scudded as she realized where he was heading. Slowly, imperceptibly, she spread her legs.

  He chuckled.

  Perhaps it had not been so imperceptible…

  He raised his head to look at her as his skating palm closed in on the bundle of nerves at her center. She stared at him, drowned in his blue eyes as he came closer and closer and then…and then…skated right on over.

  She groaned in frustration and collapsed against him. “Jack!”

  He smiled. “Did I do that wrong?”

  “Yes!”

  “Hmm.” He kissed her again, a gentle buss. “Should I try again?”

  “Yes. Yes, goddamn it.”

  And he did. He brought his fingers back to her throbbing pussy and gently, oh so gently, traced her slit through the cotton of her panties.

  The breath hitched in her throat.

  “Again?”

  “Yes. Again.”

  Thrills shot up from her clit to her nipples as he stroked her. She tried not to lean into the caress. But she failed.

  His body stiffened as he found the heat, the dampness, soaking through her panties. “Oh God, Sara.”

  “Yes, Jack. More.”

  She nearly wailed when his touch slipped away, up to her belly, but then he eased under the elastic of her panties and down over her thatch. Her muscles locked as he stroked her swollen lips, skin to skin, and then nudged in.

  “Ah!” A jolt like raw, unfettered electricity shot through her as his fingertip scraped her aching nub. She sucked in a breath.

  He was breathless as well. His body was tight, his muscles bunched as he rubbed her slick, taut clit. He circled her slowly, teasingly. He plucked her nipple and she cried out as twin sensations lashed through her.

  “Do you like that?” he asked.

  How could he not know? “Yes. Yes, Jack.”

  When he withdrew, leaving her cold, she wanted to cry. He studied her with a thoughtful expression. “No. I still don’t think I’m doing it right.”

  “Oh, you’re doing it right.” She grabbed his hand and put it back where it belonged.

  He laughed and stepped away. “I don’t think so. Sit down, Sara.”

  “What?”

  “Sit down.” He led her to the sofa and pressed on her shoulder until she sat and then—dear God—he knelt before her and walked himself between her legs. His palms slipped up her thighs, dragging her hem with them. His skin was warm as he drew tantalizing circles on her. And all the while, he held her gaze…

  Until her skirt reached her waist, exposing her panties. Then his attention dropped. He swallowed. Licked his lips. She couldn’t help parting her thighs just a bit more. It was a tiny movement but he noticed. His eyes snapped back to hers. Then with one smooth motion, he hooked his thumbs in the elastic of her panties and slowly drew them down.

  Sara shuddered and arched up her hips, helping him bare her pussy.

  “God, you’re gorgeous,” he said, a soft whisper. “I want to kiss you, Sara.”

  He waited until she nodded, until she put a hand to his head, ran her fingers through his hair and tugged him down.

  He showed remarkable restraint, beginning at her knees as he did. He kissed her languorously, up one thigh and then up the other, letting his fingers drift over her flesh, along the sides of her legs, down to her ankles, up to her hips, teasing her, tormenting her until she wanted to smash her cunt in his face.

  “Please, Jack.”

  He shot her an evil, handsome, delicious smile. “Are you begging for it, Sara?”

  Dear God, she was. This would probably be all over the office on Monday but she didn’t care. “Not a request.” She spread her legs farther. “An order. Do it.”

  His nostrils flared and he lowered his head. She felt his breath first, warm on her open slit. She tightened the muscles in her belly, tried not to squirm. Because she was aching for him. Aching for his touch.

  And a
h.

  He licked her. Set his tongue to the tip of her slit and licked, swirling around her clit. She hissed and lurched and cream oozed out. He nuzzled her, took her clit between his lips. And sucked.

  Sara cried out as pleasure shot through her body. His mouth was so sweet on her, nibbling and nuzzling and nipping. She spread her legs even wider.

  His fingers had stilled their torturous movements, digging into the curve of her ass to keep her still. But then apparently he remembered he had them and brought them into action. She nearly howled as one long finger edged into her cunt. She clenched around it and a shiver coursed through her. He responded with a suck, another lick, a swirl.

  She could feel her orgasm coming closer. When he slipped in two, it took her.

  It surprised her because it usually took so much more to make her come. But Jack’s mouth, his fingers, his tongue, drove her to madness. She exploded, pinching a nipple with one hand and holding his head with the other.

  He kept her going, kept stoking the pleasure long after the first wave had crested and, to her surprise, he coaxed another. And another, until she was sitting in a puddle, in a boneless mass, on her sofa.

  When she was done, when she was utterly drained, he kissed his way back down her legs, finally finishing with a sweet nibble on her toes. And through it all, she twitched and moaned.

  Damn, if her arousal wasn’t rising again.

  But he leaned back and knelt there between her legs and stared at her solemnly. “Did I do that right, Sara?”

  And how. “That was wonderful, Jack.”

  He found her panties somewhere on the carpet and slipped them back on her, one leg at a time. Then he brought her hem back down, arranging her skirt, very meticulously, over her privates.

  Sara watched with something akin to confusion.

  Why was he dressing her? He’d just licked and sucked and finger-fucked her to completion. She was wet and ready and, damn it all, she wanted him. She wanted his cock.

  He wanted her.

  Didn’t he?

  She glanced down. Yes. It was there. Rigid. Throbbing. She rubbed it with her toe. He allowed it but not for long. He caught her foot and held it on his thigh, stroking it softly.

  “Jack?”

  “Sara?”

  She blinked. “Don’t you…want me?”

  He blew out a laugh, dragged his fingers through his hair. “Yes, Sara. You have no idea how bad.”