by C. J. Duggan
Without taking my eyes from him, I lowered my lips to brush against his, so close but not touching, as I moved to his earlobe to whisper,
‘What kind of things?’ I rocked a little, feeling his chest expand, giving me a surge of power, knowing that I had incited an almost painful pleasure in him.
Hmm, this was fun.
I lifted my head and saw the rawness in his eyes, felt it in the way his hands gripped harder at my skin. Jack went to answer, but instead I placed my finger over his lips and shook my head.
‘Don’t tell me,’ I said. Lowering my hands, I reached for his, sliding them up my thighs, under my skirt and to the edge of my dampened panties. ‘Show me.’
And with those two simple words Jack sat upright in his chair so fast the legs scraped against the floor, his mouth on me like a brand, his hands digging into my hip bones, drawing me closer to grind against the hard length of him. All inhibitions were gone. It was like the fantasy had become a reality, except so much hotter, feeling Jack’s tongue in my mouth and his eager hands peeling my panties aside, sinking one finger, then another, inside me and capturing my gasps with his mouth. My body demanded his touch, encouraging him as I rocked against his hand. There was nothing innocent about me now, nipping at his mouth and encouraging him with words I couldn’t quite believe were coming from my mouth.
Who was I? What wanton soul had taken over me? I couldn’t get enough of him, and thankfully he was eager to please.
He pushed deeper inside me, his rhythm faster; I had to grip his shoulders to anchor myself, begging for him not to stop, to go faster, deeper. And Jack obliged, looking up into my face and drawing me down to him, stifling my cries with his mouth as I came hard against his hand. My body went limp and I draped my arms over Jack’s shoulders as I panted against the dampness of his neck. The only thing that I was truly aware of was the throbbing between my thighs and the beating of our hearts.
If foreplay was that good with this man, what would sex be like? A breeze blew across my sweat-dampened skin and despite the warmth of Jack against me, I shivered. Jack pulled his hands from between my legs and wrapped his arms around me, cocooning me in his embrace. I sighed, completely contented by the after-orgasm glow and the buzz of a few beers. I had found a new happy place, and it wasn’t locked behind a secret door filled with pretty things.
I closed my eyes and nuzzled against Jack’s neck.
‘Kate?’ My name sounded deep, and vibrated against my cheek.
‘Hmm?’ I managed with a smile.
‘I’ve got to go.’ And just like that the record of birdsong in my head scratched and came to a complete stop.
I lifted my head, looking into his eyes. ‘Why?’ What was it with this man and running off? Was this whole evening some kind of elaborate booty call? Cop a feel and then go off into the night, with a don’t-call-me-I’ll-call-you? Was he really just one of the lads after all? I tried to stay calm, even while my insides twisted.
Jack smiled. ‘Because if I go back into that room with you, it’s not sleep that I’m going to want.’
My insides unravelled a little. I played the innocent card, although I don’t think he bought it. ‘Why, what do you want to do?’ I teased, and as I shifted a little I could feel the hardness underneath me. I bit my lip and waited for him to reply.
He breathed out a laugh, gritting his teeth as I moved again. ‘Oh, the things I want to do to you,’ he confessed. ‘So either I go or stay.’ He swallowed hard. ‘The choice is yours.’
I tilted my head and looked down at him. He was so desperately trying to control himself, to make out that he would be cool one way or another and, as much as it was fun torturing him, I couldn’t deny what I wanted, nor what I knew he wanted. I felt it pressed between my legs. So as I got up from his lap, watching him wince as if in pain. I didn’t say a word; I simply grabbed his hand and pulled him up, leading him through the balcony doors and over to my bed.
Keeping quiet was an impossible task. I could only pray that Nana had taken her hearing aids out. There was no way I was able to control what was coming from my mouth, or the sound of my bed. Just when I would begin to worry about the noise we were making, Jack would do something wicked to my body and the ability to care was lost in my own cries.
‘Shh,’ Jack whispered against my thigh.
I lifted my head from my pillow. ‘Well, if you’re going to put your tongue there, there is no way I am going to be silent.’
I felt Jack laugh against my leg, before crawling up my body, his arms caging me in with his hands resting on either side of me. ‘How about we change tactics?’
‘What, you think you can do a better job at keeping quiet?’
‘Oh, I know I can,’ he said cockily.
‘Right, we’ll see about that,’ I said, pushing against his chest so he rolled onto his back. Giving him no chance to adjust, I took him into my mouth, deep.
‘Holy shit!’ he cried out, his hands fisting in my hair, his chest heaving in shock as he looked down on me taking in the long, hard length of him.
‘Oh Christ, Kate, I’m going to come if you keep doing that,’ he said, pushing at me to stop before he did. I smiled, feeling rather victorious at just how much he couldn’t keep it together.
‘Wow, that was so weak,’ I said, laughing at his ‘efforts’ to be quiet.
Jack shook his head. ‘Is that so?’ he said, snaring me around the wrist and pulling me down the mattress, tickling at my rib cage and making me squirm and kick.
‘Jack, please, no no, stop it, stop it!’ I cried, now more fearful that my begging and cries could be heard back in Australia, let alone downstairs.
Jack’s laughter died down as he caught his breath and stopped tickling me. He lay between my legs, the rise and fall of my breasts pressing against his bare chest, pushing my hair away from my flushed face as I looked back up at him. A silence fell between us but, unlike our evening on the steps, this time it wasn’t awkward and I didn’t want to fill the space with distractions. I was happy to let it linger, to look into those brown eyes and be lost in them. Aside from our laboured breaths and pounding hearts we lay there, unmoving, until Jack slid his hand down my rib cage in a touch that was slow, tender. His hand traced the curve of my breast, squeezing the bud, and watched me as I pressed up into his fingers, wanting more, needing more. He pulled away quickly, reaching for his pants, and before I could wonder at his departure, Jack pulled out his wallet from the crumpled trousers, retrieving the square foil tucked inside.
He wasted no time tearing it open with his teeth, glancing up at me briefly before he sheathed himself with the condom. Jack came back to his previous position on top of me, staring down at me, studying my face, making me feel so wanted just with a single look. And then he kissed me, softly, delicately, like he was committing the curve of my mouth to memory, before exploring deeper. My fingers combed through the waves of his hair, losing myself in the kiss, until I felt him press between my thighs, pushing ever so gently. He edged his way deeper, inch by inch, causing my breath to hitch, before, in one smooth glide, he thrust inside me. He captured my cry with his mouth, as he stilled his hips to let me adjust to the size of him as my nails embedded half-moon crescents in his hips.
Jack rested his forehead against mine, seemingly overwhelmed by the connection, adjusting as much as I was; he slowly slid out of me, all the way to the tip before thrusting gently back. Looking into my eyes as he fucked me, so deeply. I felt it build deep in the pit of my stomach as his pace slowly built to a faster rhythm. He tore his eyes from me only so he could watch where we were connected, the slickness of our bodies, the way he looked inside me as I rocked my hips up into him, wanting it harder, faster, and begging for him to not stop as I felt myself move close to the edge. I knew he was close too, the veins in his neck bulging as he pistoned his hips faster, crying out and grabbing onto my breast, squeezing and fucking me into oblivion. The bed head thumped loudly against the plaster, and I came so hard I didn’t think I
could take it, his satisfaction tipping me over to my own. In his final frenzied pumps I bit into his shoulder, stifling the cries, crashing, falling so deeply into a chasm of sensation that I didn’t think I would ever get myself out. Any ability to think, talk, move was all but lost to me as the weight of Jack’s body anchored me, still connected in the most delicious way, thinking I could so easily come to love a man like this.
And just as quickly as the thought came I brushed it aside, instead choosing to live in the moment, lying in the arms of Jack. Tomorrow, and whatever might come with it, seemed a whole world away, so for now I would stay right here and breathe.
Just. Breathe.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
I awoke with a kink in my neck and a smile on my face. The sun had decided to shine today and a small strip of light illuminated my bed covers. I rolled over to touch it, feel the warmth of it against my skin and on my bed … my very empty bed.
I sat bolt upright, clutching the blankets over my breasts, half-asleep, the sunbeam hitting me right in the eyes.
‘Shit.’
The only clothes that were strewn over the floor were my own, there was no rose on my pillow, or note on my bedside, nothing except an empty feeling in my heart and soreness between my thighs, the only evidence of Jack being here. I edged out of bed, struggling to twist the sheet around my naked body, tripping and swearing and generally hating on the world as I went to the balcony, ripping open the curtains, and flinging open the doors to find … nothing.
No empty beer bottles, no burnt-out candles, no snacks. Surely last night wasn’t a dream? There was no way a dream could be that real, with so many multiple orgasms. I checked underneath the table to see if maybe a note had blown there – nothing. Maybe there was something on my desk that I hadn’t seen, or on my dresser; there was just no way Jack would have left without saying goodbye. We had even had dawn sex, the memory of him all the more vivid for the presence of daylight. The recollections of our night together only deepened my despair as I collapsed on the edge of my bed, feeling numb and hollow. He had got what he wanted, and left. My hopes raised a little, thinking maybe he’d just left for work and didn’t want to wake me. But then I remembered that, after our third round, he’d said he was grateful he didn’t have to work tomorrow, because he wouldn’t be able to function. Well, he functioned all right, up and out of my room, and I had never felt so stupid. He was just another bloody typical lad, probably made all the girls feel special until daylight came. I pulled my sheet tighter, taking comfort in the pain of the edges digging into my skin; it distracted me from the pain that burned deep within me. I fell back into bed, lifting the covers over my head, curling into a ball. I was fine until I smelt Jack on my sheets, then my eyes went misty as I thought about how utterly stupid I had allowed myself to be.
I wanted to wallow in self-pity for all eternity, but then I heard the doorbell ring. Oh God, maybe I could suffocate myself with the same pillow I had dragged over my face to muffle my cries. Today was crossword day, and if that was Cybil and her thesaurus, I didn’t think I could take it, knowing that I no longer had means to escape, no source to uplift me when I felt trapped or hopeless. I think that’s what got to me most of all, that the person I thought Jack was didn’t actually exist, and my only ray of hope in this miserable place had turned out to be an illusion. It felt like all the air had been knocked out of my lungs.
I heard the familiar thud of Vera’s footsteps on the stairs and I knew things were about to go from bad to worse as she knocked on my door and announced Nana’s request for an audience.
‘Kate, are you awake?’
I pulled the pillow from my face. ‘No!’ I called out like a moody teen.
‘Well, best get dressed and come downstairs, I’ve just boiled the kettle.’ As if I could possibly be lured down by a hot cup of tea.
‘It’s crossword day, isn’t it?’ I said, waiting for her confirmation that would be the final nail in the coffin.
Vera paused. ‘Well, yes, but that’s not the reason you should come downstairs.’
‘Give me five good reasons why I should.’
‘No, but I’ll give you one: Jack Baker’s here to see you.’
I sat up so fast that I rolled out of bed, falling to the floor with a thud. I scrambled and tripped, trying to unlock the bedroom door but only scratching at it like a wild animal; the commotion from the other side must have entertained Vera no end. I whipped the bedroom door open, dressed in a sheet with bloodshot eyes and severely matted bed hair.
‘What?’
‘Didn’t you hear the doorbell? Jack’s downstairs in the parlour, so I suggest you get down there quick smart before Nana starts telling him stories of when you got your first period – you know what she’s like.’
‘Oh God.’ She was right. ‘Give me two minutes,’ I said, closing the door and letting the sheets fall to the ground, doing a nudey run to the wardrobe. With no time to agonise over my outfit choice, I chucked on a fitted grey T-shirt and some jeans; the one luxury I allowed was brushing my hair.
‘Ow, ow, ow, ow.’ Sex hair was the worst! Though admittedly I had never had a night quite like last night.
I sprayed some perfume into the air and spun into it on the way to the door, where I took a moment to gather myself, taking in a deep breath. I walked onto the landing, squaring my shoulders as the sound of Jack’s deep voice and Nana’s answering laugh floated up the stairs.
What are you playing at, Jack Baker?
I tried to put a bounce in my step, as if I hadn’t a care in the world. I did a quick run through in my head, practising how I would handle this utterly unexpected situation.
Oh, hey, Jack. How are you doing? Thanks for the mind-blowing sex last night. Nana, would you be so kind as to pass the sugar?
Yeah, maybe not.
I spun around the banister at the bottom of the stairs, bracing myself to enter the parlour where Jack sat opposite Nana on the couch. They both turned to me, Jack standing as I entered the room. I made a particular effort not to make eye contact with him.
‘Morning,’ I said to the room.
‘Oh, there you are, Katherine – I told you she was most likely sleeping her life away.’
‘Rough night, Kate?’ Jack asked, causing my attention to snap to his smug face.
‘No, rather forgettable, really.’ I watched something flash in his eyes as I sat in the armchair. Jack sat once more, looking anxious. He never looked anxious, not even in the presence of Nana.
‘Jack has something he wants to say, but said he would wait for you. Sorry you had to wait so long, Jack, my granddaughter’s punctuality leaves something to be desired.’
Already on high alert, her words grated even more than usual and it took considerable effort to maintain my composure.
Jack cleared his throat. ‘There’s been something I’ve been meaning to ask. Kate, remember the other day I was going to ask you something but didn’t?’
I thought back to the sunken garden at Kensington Palace: he’d been mulling over something, something that it seemed he’d wanted to share with me but then decided to keep to himself. It had played on my mind since then.
‘Yes, I remember.’
‘Well, the reason I didn’t ask was because I know you wanted to spend more time with your nan since the fall, and I know you’ve not been feeling the greatest.’ He glanced at Vera, who was nodding her head like she was watching her child perform at a beauty pageant.
I narrowed my eyes as I watched Jack lie so effortlessly. What was he up to?
‘You see, Joy, I know this is your house and I want to respect that, and I didn’t want to step on anyone’s toes, and I know you care and worry for Kate, but you see there’s this thing and I—’
‘Oh, for God’s sake, spit it out, man!’ Nana snapped. I was on the edge of the overstuffed armchair.
Jack laughed. ‘There’s a fundraising ball in a few weeks, and I would very much like to take Kate as my date. If she would like t
o, of course.’
For the first time I met Jack’s eyes; was he asking my nana’s permission to take me on a date? My heart squeezed; this was better than any rose on a pillow.
Nana slumped back in her seat. ‘Oh, is that all?’ She sniffed. ‘A silly little ball. Really, Jack, I seriously doubt that Katherine—’
‘I’d love to!’ I cut off Nana’s words, ignoring her scowl and seeing only the warmth in Jack’s eyes. I broke away from them reluctantly, moving to sit by Nana.
‘Do you think you could handle me going out in the big city for one night, Nana?’
Nana lifted her chin like she was mulling over the thought. ‘Well, what would you wear, Katherine? All your clothes are hideous.’
I smiled, not from the insult but the fact she seemed to be warming to the idea.
‘Well, I’m sure I could come up with something.’
‘No,’ she said quite adamantly, causing Jack and I to look at each other. Of course, the lack of Nana’s blessing meant little; I would be going to this ball, come hell or high water, even if it meant tying bed sheets together and climbing down off my balcony. It would, however, be easier with her agreement, which was obviously why Jack had undertaken this ruse; you had to give him an A for effort.
‘No, it just won’t do,’ she said. ‘No granddaughter of mine is going to a ball wearing a sack of potatoes; what’s the dress code for this event, Jack?’
‘Evening formal.’
Nana nodded. ‘Well, in that case, I will have to lend you something of mine. I have a few evening gowns swimming around the house, I am sure we could find you something.’
My chest tightened, knowing damn well she had some gowns ‘around the house’ – she had Aladdin’s bloody cave! But more exciting than the chance to wear vintage couture was the fact she’d said yes! No sneaking around, no lying. I was going out with Jack, to a ball, in London. Eat your heart out, Jane Austen!
