by Linda Wisdom
Greg couldn’t keep his eyes off Jill. He found himself wanting her so much he ached.
When the number was finished he jumped up, applauding loudly until Evelyne pulled him back down in his seat.
“I see you didn’t fall asleep,” she said with a smirk.
“Evelyne, with you around, a statue wouldn’t be able to sleep,” he retorted.
“I’ll ignore that,” Evelyne said loftily, standing up and grabbing his hand. “Come on, let’s greet the star.”
Backstage, Jill stood in one corner talking to some of the women she had danced with. She had put leg warmers and a ragged sweatshirt on for warmth. Her hair, which had been caught back by red barrettes, gleamed under the hot lights. A sheen of perspiration glistened on her brow and around her mouth. Just then Jill turned and saw Greg. Her lips moved in a heart-stopping smile as she sprinted across the area and leaped into his arms.
“You came, you came,” she murmured over and over, hugging him tightly. Her face and eyes were alive with the happiness she felt. “Oh, Greg, I’m so glad you’re here.” She grasped his face and kissed him.
Shame clung to his conscience as he recalled all his arguments for not wanting to attend. He hadn’t realized until then how important his presence was to her.
“You look great,” he said once he’d regained use of his mouth. âYou were fantastic out there.â
“I did her makeup,” Evelyne piped up proudly.
Greg shot her a look filled with exasperation. “Actually I was talking about her dancing,” he shot back.
“Okay, you two.” Jill took Greg’s arm, pressing it against her side. “I’m glad you came,” she said happily, leading him to a group of people. “There are some people I want you to meet.”
For the next hour Jill led Greg from one group to another, introducing him to fellow students and the instructors.
“So you’re Jill’s writing partner.” A tall, voluptuous brunette edged Greg away from the group. Her green almond-shaped eyes were as hard as gemstones. “Funny, you don’t look like a children’s book author.” The tip of her tongue appeared to bathe her lower lip. If Greg had seen Jill do that, he would have been aroused immediately. From this woman the action only left him cold. “I could see you writing men’s adventure books or those steamy detective novels instead of books for kids. You’d be good.” She spoke in a calculated purr. “At a lot of things.”
One kind of woman Greg didn’t like was the shark; they were the women who hunted their prey, snapped them up and swam on to snare a new victim. No matter how lovely she was, he didn’t intend to be the bait for the evening.
“I’ll see you at the party.” The woman smiled, showing small but slightly sharp teeth. She glided away, but not without brushing her hand across the front of his slacks.
“She eats her men alive, love.” Jill appeared at Greg’s side, her hand hooking his arm in a possessive grip. “You wouldn’t have a chance.”
“Give me the benefit of the doubt that my taste is much better than Madame Guillotine.” He smiled, snaking his arm around her waist. “You look sexy in that outfit.” He lowered his voice. “Good enough to eat.”
“The flattery won’t work until you tell me what that she-wolf said to you.” She couldn’t quite carry off her stern expression.
“She said she’d see me at the party. What party is she talking about?” he asked. “And where’s Evelyne?”
“The party is for the dancers and crew, and Evelyne left a few minutes ago, figuring I’d give you a ride home.” Jill looked across the room at the dark-haired temptress. “We don’t need to go to the party,” she said softly, stroking his arm with the tips of her fingers.
“My thought exactly,” Greg murmured.
An hour later Jill sat oohing and ahhing in the hot tub as the water jets massaged her sore muscles. Greg was just content to sprawl on the opposite bench and watch the enticing sight of Jill’s bare breasts just below the bubbling water level.
“You’re one sexy lady, Jill Blake.” His lazy drawl floated in the air. “How can anyone who looks as sexy as you write children’s books when you should be starring in a porno movie?”
“A porno film?” She snapped her hand against the top of the water, sending a small wave into his face. “You’re really asking for it now!”
“Hey!” His retort was garbled under the splash. “That’s playing dirty.” He reached out and pulled her to him.
“I’ve only just begun,” she gurgled, sliding her arms around his neck and her legs around his hips.
“Sounds good to me.” Greg’s respiration grew shallow.
“Same here,” Jill replied.
Greg put his hands under her arms and drew her up until her navel was level with his face. “Hm, you’ve got an innie.” He touched his tongue to the delicate indentation. “And I’ve got an outie. Appropriate, isn’t it?” He looked up at her with a wicked arch of the eyebrows.
“Greg!” She couldn’t hold back her blush.
He was otherwise occupied brushing his open mouth over her stomach and up to tug on an impudent nipple.
“Did you know that your blush and the color of your nipples is the same?” he mumbled, lapping beads of moisture from the pink nub. “It’s not only very enchanting but very tasty, too.”
Jill threw back her head, her eyes closed so she could savor the emotions running through her more fully. Soft whimpers sounded from her slightly parted lips, and the stream surrounding her body left tiny incandescent beads on her skin. Her hands gripped his damp shoulders in order to keep her balance as Greg’s marauding tongue threatened to send her into another world.
“You do that so well, my love,” she breathed, flexing her fingers on his taut skin.
“Did I ever tell you that your skin’s as soft as a duck’s bottom?” He nibbled along the perimeter of her belly.
“No one can give a compliment to a woman like you can.” The last word came out as a low moan.
He kept on tormenting her until the heat of the glass-enclosed room seeped through her pores to create an even greater fever within her. Greg took his time mapping out every inch of sensitive skin before slowly moving up to her breasts. His lips closed over one nipple and pulled on it almost roughly. As before, his patience could last only so long when he loved her. He suckled as eagerly as a newborn infant would to sustain life.
Jill whimpered, whispering entreaties for Greg to end this torture. She bent her head, nipping his ear in punishment for the torment she suffered. “No more,” she ordered hoarsely.
Greg bent his head back. “More?”
“Oh!” She pounded him with her fists and managed to drop back into his lap with satisfying ease. With a twist and wiggle of her hips, she welcomed him into herself, creating another whirlpool that battled the one circling them.
Greg gripped Jill’s hips and thrust upward. Their eyes met and held, binding them in an enchanted world. Jill’s lips were slightly parted as she panted with each forceful thrust. She wrapped her legs around his waist and clung even tighter.
“You’re mine, Jill,” Greg told her in a rough voice, clasping the sides of her head with his hands and kissing her forcefully. “All mine.”
“Yes,” she whispered in return. “Yes!”
Greg’s movements quickened as the exquisite pain caught up with them until they shuddered with release. They remained in each other’s arms, unwilling to part just yet.
“Making it in a hot tub may be considered sexy, but I think I’m of the conservative school, when a bed has all the comforts.” Greg stood up, still hugging Jill tightly to him. “Come on, let’s find that bed.”
Jill hooked her heels at the base of his spine. “Sounds good to me.” She yawned, resting her chin on his shoulders.
Greg chuckled. “Lazy witch. Okay, babe, let’s head for bed.” He carried her upstairs to his apartment and into his bedroom. If he had had any other ideas for the balance of the night, a now sound asleep Jill banished them.
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Greg was drinking his third cup of coffee and working busily in his office by the time a heavy-eyed Jill staggered downstairs the next morning.
“Good afternoon,” he teased, giving her a warm smile.
“Ugh.” She picked up his cup and sipped the hot brew.
“Very good, you’re getting more into Harry’s role every day.”
Jill ran her fingers through her hair. “It’s mornings such as this that I can’t find myself liking you very much.” She dug into the kangaroo pockets of her lilac sweatshirt for her pack of cigarettes and lighter. “Do you have any pages for me to look over?” The small amount of caffeine had helped clear her brain.
Greg nodded, lacing his fingers together and stretching his arms over his head for a much-needed backache relief. “Why don’t you get your coffee first?”
Jill agreed as she lit a cigarette and pushed her lighter back into her pocket. She ignored Greg’s exaggerated coughs and waves of the arms to banish the imaginary clouds of smoke. She looked out the window but saw only gray mist covering the glass. A soft sigh escaped her lips. “Wouldn’t you rather go for a walk in that lovely fog?” she wheedled.
“Wouldn’t you rather bank that lovely check we’ll receive once this equally lovely book is finished?”
“I’ll get my coffee and be right back.”
“This can’t work,” she argued later that day.
“Why not?” Greg looked up from his typing.
“The transition isn’t smooth enough,” Jill explained, pushing him out of his chair and moving the material backward to the scene she was referring to. “If he’s visiting the beach, there has to be more reason for going than just appearing there.” She quickly typed in the commands so that she could insert her idea. When she finished, she looked up to where Greg stood behind her. “See, doesn’t that make more sense?”
Greg leaned over, one hand on the back of her chair and the other braced on the desk next to the computer terminal. With a mere shift of his weight he could brush his lips across her temple, but he resisted the urge, mainly because he knew one kiss would only lead to another and from there they would end up upstairs in no time.
“Here.” He gestured to the flickering amber letters on the black screen. “That sentence needs more punch.” He proceeded to show what he meant.
The couple were so engrossed in their work that they didn’t pause until the light outside dimmed and they were forced to turn on a lamp in order to see.
“So far, so good.” Greg programmed the printer to spew out the chapter they had just finished. “How about dinner and a movie?”
“Sounds fine to me.” Jill looked down at her casual clothing. “Give me a half-hour so I can look properly seductive.” She lowered her voice to a sultry croon.
“Just as long as you don’t look too seductive, or we’ll never get out of here.” He brushed his fingers across her cheek and followed the caress with his lips, which soon slid down to her mouth.
“Greg?”
“Hmm?”
“If we remain here any longer, we’ll have to eat after the movie.” She bent her head so he could reach the tender spot where her shoulder met her neck. “And I’m pretty hungry.”
“I’ll buy you some popcorn at the movies.” He inhaled the strawberry scent of her shampoo. He drew back, breathing hard just from that brief caress. “While I’d rather take you upstairs to bed, I’m going to go take a cold shower instead. I’ll meet you down here in a half-hour.” With one last kiss, he left her.
Jill also took a quick shower, pinned her hair back and applied makeup lightly before dressing in a red sweater and charcoal wool slacks. She grabbed her gray pea coat and ran downstairs to find Greg already waiting for her.
“Maybe I should ravish you instead.” He grabbed hold of her hand.
She wrinkled her nose. “I’ll hold you to that promise later.” She lightly jabbed her finger against his forest’ green sweater. “Did you find a movie?”
Greg nodded. “We’ll just make it if you don’t mind eating afterward.”
“Not as long as you keep me sated with popcorn,” she answered.
The movie was a comedy that left them with sides aching from laughter. What delighted Jill even more were Greg’s erotic comments murmured in her ear about how he planned to recreate the love scenes when they returned home. That was one promise she intended to have him keep!
After the film they walked down the street to a restaurant known for every kind of hamburger imaginable.
“Good evening.” The hostess greeted them with a smile. “Would you prefer the smoking or nonsmoking section?”
“Smoking,” Jill requested swiftly, without bothering with their usual toss of the coin.
“Nonsmoking,” Greg said at the same time.
The waitress was confused by the conflicting replies. “Aren’t you two together?” she finally asked.
“Of course,” Jill said impatiently, turning to Greg. “Give me a break. I wasn’t able to smoke at the movies.”
“Then refraining during the meal shouldn’t kill you, should it?” he countered pleasantly, then turned back to the hostess. “We’d like nonsmoking, please.” He glanced down at Jill. “Show some willpower, will you?”
Her eyes blazed at this slur to her self-control. “Fine.” Her reply hung icicles over her head as she swept past him to follow the hostess. She’d show him more willpower than he could ever imagine.
They were seated in a burnt-orange vinyl booth and handed menus before Jill spoke again. “I gather you’re paying?”
Greg counted to ten under his breath. “I think I can afford it.” The lady makes me crazy, he thought to himself. If I didn’t love her so much I’d probably kill her.
During the short time before the waitress appeared, Jill hummed the movie theme under her breath and fiddled with the small red plastic container holding the sugar and artificial sweetener packets. After they were rearranged to her satisfaction, she played with the salt and pepper shakers. She looked up and smiled when the waitress appeared asking if they were ready to order. Harrison
“Yes, I’d like a full order of potato skins with extra bacon and cheese, the guacamole burger, onion rings and a large iced tea.” She wrinkled her brows in concentration. “I guess I’ll decide on dessert later.” She flashed a bright smile at Greg, daring him to say one word about her large order.
“I’ll have the Gold Coast burger, fries, and coffee.” He sighed. After the waitress left, he leaned across the table and caught one of Jill’s hands. “Have I ever told you how exasperating you are?”
“Why, suh, I do declare you’re funnin’ me,” she cooed in a sugary Southern drawl, batting her lashes in true Scarlett O’Hara fashion.
“And it can’t be due to sexual frustration,” he continued, keeping his voice low.
“That’s trueâwe’ve certainly taken care of that problem,” Jill said pertly, looking up when the waitress set their drinks in front of them and left.
When their food arrived they tucked in with hungry gusto. Jill ended up not only finishing all her food but also ordering lemon meringue pie for dessert.
“Good thing we’re walking back to the house.” Greg pulled several bills out of his pocket to pay. “Of course, I may have to roll you back to the house.”
“Then you’ll have all that much more of me to love.” She slid her arm around his waist under his corduroy jacket. “Why don’t we stop off for a drink at Mahoney’s?”
“Sounds good to me. I’ll even let you pay.” He curved a hand over her hip. “You may be able to out-eat me, but I can certainly drink you under the table,” he informed her, looking down at her face illuminated by the Bickering lights on the buildings. She was stubborn, willful, endearing, warm, passionate, crazy and, most important, all his.
No, not all his, Greg silently amended. For a while she would be his, and if he worked it right, she just might be around when Hairy Harry lost his popularity and Tilly Cook would have to
come up with a new idea. He knew if he was smart he’d work on cementing their relationship as soon as possible.
Mahoney’s was crowded and smoke-filled as usual. Tank lifted a beefy arm in greeting and waved them in the direction of a rear table.
“Hi, want your usual?” Cari, one of the regular waitresses, asked.
“I think I’d like an Irish coffee instead,” Jill decided.
“Same here,” Greg agreed, slanting a wide grin in Jill’s direction.
Two minutes later Tank stood in front of their table, his tattooed arms crossed in front of his brawny chest.
“What the hell is going on that you have to order a broad’s drink?” he demanded of Greg. “A bourbon drinker doesn’t order something that has whipped cream on it.” He scowled at Jill as if it had to be all her fault.
“Tank, you deserve the top MCP award of the year.” Jill took her cigarette and lighter out of her purse. “Tank doesn’t mind if I smoke, do you?” She looked up at the hulk of a man who was never seen without a cigar jutting out of the corner of his mouth.
“Hey, sweetheart, they’re your lungs,” he grunted, moving away. “Your drinks will be on the way.”
True to his word, Jill’s Irish coffee arrived, but Greg received a bourbon and water.
“The man never listens,” Greg grumbled, amid Jill’s soft laughter.
Once when Greg excused himself and another man approached Jill asking her to dance, Tank showed up gruffly ordering the man to shove off.
“When’re you going to put the poor slob out of his misery?” Tank asked as he pulled up a chair, spun it around and straddled the seat, his arms resting along the back.
“I didn’t realize I was acting so mean to Greg.” She had no trouble knowing who he was talking about.
“Come on, Jill, I’m not some idiot who just fell off the turnip truck,” he retorted. “Anybody with half-assed sense can see how you two feel for each other.”
Jill’s rose-tinted fingernails slowly circled the rim of her mug as she looked down into the rich brown contents with the fancy mound of whipped cream dotting the top. “We’re not looking for declarations of undying love from each other.” The statement sent a spasm through her vitals in punishment. But wasn’t that exactly what they wantedâno commitments?
