Body Heat (19 page)
Authors: Susan Fox
Moving on to another sense, she touched her leg, smooth and slippery from the milk bath. What else did her sense of touch tell her? That the tub was hard under her bottom and the angle of the back put a strain on her neck. She pulled a towel off the rack and folded it under her neck, which felt much better.
Stretching back, she closed her eyes and felt her muscles relax. The air smelled flowery in a way that made her think of Elizabeth Taylor with a creamy gardenia tucked into her dark hair, sultry and, yes, sensual.
With her eyes closed, she could almost imagine she was in a swimming pool with gardenias floating on the top. Mmm-hmm . . .
Floating in silky smooth water, with that exotic scent making her feel all sultry and feminine . . .
A pity she was all alone in this pool . . .
But wait, the flowers were bobbing up and down, stirred by some kind of activity in the water. “Maura Mahoney,” Jesse’s voice drawled in that sexy way of his.
And then he was there in front of her, his face illuminated by moonlight. Drops of water gleamed on his bare shoulders.
She should have felt embarrassed because she was naked, but somehow it didn’t matter. Maybe it was because, under the water, she was invisible. As was he.
She was treading water, and so was Jesse. His leg brushed hers and slipped away. Then his hands clasped her waist, tugging her body close to his. Those hands were so strong, yet so gentle against her bare skin. Stunned by sensation, she lost her sense of balance and reached out for him. One arm grazed his hip. A naked hip.
Heavens, he was as naked as she was.
He pulled her closer, and her breasts pressed against his chest. Their legs, as they treaded water, touched and then moved away, touched again, and still he pulled her closer. Her hips were gliding through the water toward his, and any moment now, she would be pressed against—
“Aagh!” Maura made a quick grab for the library book as it began to slip from her fingers, catching it just before it hit the water.
She shook her head impatiently. Must Jesse Blue distract her from everything she tried to do? She couldn’t even conduct this experiment without drifting off into thoughts of him. But, hmm . . . She squeezed her thighs together, feeling an ache between them. Maybe the experiment was working.
She straightened her glasses and stared at the book. Where was she? Oh, yes, concentrating on each sense. She’d done sight, touch, and smell, which left hearing and taste.
The jazz, muted as it drifted in from the living room, was as sultry as the scent of the moist, warm air. As for taste, she picked up her glass and took a sip, then another. A generalized fruity taste, kind of tropical, a little citrusy. Delicious, and definitely one of her favorite wines. She remembered that this was her last bottle, so picked up her notebook, turned to the page with her current shopping list, and added wine.
A yawn snuck up on her. The tingle between her thighs had faded, and soon the water would cool off. She’d better hurry up.
She ran a finger down the page of the library book. Then she wrinkled her nose. Of course she’d known this part was coming. She was supposed to touch her own body, all over. Run her hands across her breasts, tease the nipples between finger and thumb, experiment to find the kind of touch that caused the most pleasant sensations.
She gazed down at her breasts, partially submerged in water. It wasn’t that she never touched them. She did a thorough self-exam once a month. She shouldn’t be squeamish about this.
Chapter 11
H
olding the book in one hand, Maura ran the other cautiously over a breast. Nothing happened except that she felt silly. She tweaked a nipple. Ouch. Too hard. She tried it more gently, repeating the motion until her nipple began to bead up. This was odd. Her breast was reacting but she felt nothing that she’d label arousal. Nothing like she felt just looking at Jesse Blue . . .
olding the book in one hand, Maura ran the other cautiously over a breast. Nothing happened except that she felt silly. She tweaked a nipple. Ouch. Too hard. She tried it more gently, repeating the motion until her nipple began to bead up. This was odd. Her breast was reacting but she felt nothing that she’d label arousal. Nothing like she felt just looking at Jesse Blue . . .
“Concentrate,” she chastised herself.
She was supposed to caress her arms very slowly, feeling the softness of the skin and the firmness underneath. Then go back to her breasts. Then slide her hands down her rib cage, marveling at the structure of the bones beneath the skin. Then to her waist and hips, reveling in the feminine curves.
She obeyed the instructions, though she had some trouble with the idea of “reveling.” She just wasn’t getting the hang of this. Her body felt fine, there was nothing wrong with it, but it wasn’t exactly responding to all these caressing touches. She persisted, stroking her legs, her thighs. And now came the part she felt especially squirmy about. After a hearty slug of wine, she blew out the candles.
Remembering what the book had suggested, she gingerly pressed a palm between her legs, which at least had the virtue of feeling warm. But the sensation wasn’t one she’d call arousal. She tried long, slow strokes with one finger, varying the pressure. Her finger got tired but that was all that happened. She went exploring for the famed clitoris that was supposed to be the center of sensation. She knew the darned thing was small, but hers must be absolutely minuscule. Hmm. Maybe that was the problem. She was anatomically deficient and that’s why she’d never been aroused during sex.
Men could have penile implants. Was there a comparable procedure for a woman?
Now she was supposed to insert a finger inside her body. She tried, but her opening was tight. She poked, maneuvered. How did her doctor get a speculum in there? How had her lovers ever . . . As for a man built like Jesse, would it even be possible?
Drat, she was freezing to death and this whole experiment was horrible. She’d proven that she was frigid, just as she’d suspected. Resolution was supposed to be a good feeling, but she felt rotten.
She sat up, pulling the towel from behind her head. But wait a minute. If she was frigid, why had she been having those weird steamy thoughts about Jesse Blue? The book said sex was a complex thing, relying on mental and emotional factors as well as physical ones. So it seemed her mind could get aroused, and sometimes her body would even tingle and ache in a needy, pleasant way . . .
She flipped to the next page in the book. And now they told her that for a lot of women, the masturbation experiment wouldn’t work the first time. Their recommendation was to have fun with it, and keep trying.
Fun. No, it didn’t compare to a good novel or movie.
She put on fresh pajamas, tidied the bathroom, and brushed her teeth. It had been a stressful day, and she was exhausted.
Yawning, Maura slid under the covers and turned out the light. The sheets felt smooth and slippery, like the water in her last little fantasy. She could even smell gardenias. She lifted an arm and sniffed languidly, then closed her eyes and yawned again . . .
Lazily, she stroked a hand down her arm. Her skin felt silky, soft . . .
Just as it had in the gardenia pool . . .
That seductive scent teased her nostrils . . .
She and Jesse were still languidly treading water, his hands at her waist.
He let go with one hand and reached out to touch her shoulder, then he slid his hand down her arm in a long, lingering caress that ended at her fingers. He entwined his hand with hers and held them together, looking down at them.
She gazed down, too, and saw how pretty they looked in the moonlight, his large brown fingers alternating with her slender pale ones.
He released her hand and began his journey back up her arm, moving on across her collarbone, framing her throat for a moment, then slipping down the center of her body.
She sucked in a breath when he cupped one breast, lifting it, pressing it upward. He ran his palm back and forth, his touch gentle, yet provocative.
Her nipple tightened. A lick of heat raced down her body in an arrow from her breast to the place where her legs came together.
It was an odd, achy, enticing feeling, one she’d never felt before. She wanted to concentrate on it, but now he’d taken her nipple between his thumb and one of his fingers. He squeezed and released, squeezed and released, and more of those flames sparked through her body.
She heard a moan and realized it had come from her.
Jesse leaned forward to capture her lips. First he nipped the bottom one, then he ran his tongue around the edge of her mouth, first her top lip and then her bottom one. Her lips were parted slightly, but he didn’t invade them; he just ran his tongue sideways across the space between them, stroking top and bottom lip at the same time. Back and forth. Mesmerizing her . . .
His hand was moving from her breast, gliding down her body. Across her stomach, down farther into her wet tangle of curls, and down even farther.
She gasped, and his finger began to take up the same movement as his tongue, stroking back and forth at the opening to those other lips. His finger glided slickly, easily. Her body quivered with sensation, all centering around that amazing finger dancing over her intimate flesh.
“Maura,” he groaned, “you drive me wild.”
He was driving her wild, too, though she barely had the ability to form the thought, much less say the words. His finger, that daring finger, was flirting with the opening of her body, dipping in and retreating, then dipping back, farther each time. Stroking inside her, exploring secret places she’d never before been aware of, teasing and tantalizing her.
This was all so delicious and so new. Instinct told her to tighten around him, and her body began to move rhythmically, matching its tempo to his as he slid in and out of her. There were two fingers now, she realized. And his thumb was joining in, rubbing gently against the place where all that fiery sensation was pooling. Her clitoris.
“Oh, Jesse.” She was begging for something and didn’t even know what it was. She’d never experienced this overload of sensation, this agony of expectation. She couldn’t take it any longer. Something had to happen.
It was like being so happy that you’d burst if you couldn’t laugh out loud. And Jesse wasn’t letting her laugh.
“Now?” he asked.
“Oh, yes,” she answered, not knowing what he was offering.
His hand went away and she moaned her displeasure. This wasn’t what she’d meant.
But then he was back, probing at the entrance to her body, where she wanted him, but not with his fingers this time. My heaven, he was so big she could never . . .
But she did. He eased inside and her body opened itself to him.
“You feel so amazing,” he told her.
“So do you.”
Again he created a rhythm for them, and her body followed willingly, knowing he was leading her somewhere she very much wanted to go.
His lips sealed themselves to hers, kissing her the way those gorgeous actors and actresses did in movie love scenes. Romantic, passionate.
As he kissed her, he began to move more quickly and she squirmed, pressing harder against him, the tension within her almost unbearable—yet, oh, so pleasurable.
He pulled back slightly and slid his hand between them. Unerringly he found that little nub, her magic button, and began to rub it.
Her back arched and she cried out, feeling something inside her begin to come apart. He thrust harder, faster, taking her, possessing her, as she dissolved in surging waves all around him. Tremors rocked her body, and she almost sobbed from the sheer joy of the experience.
And Jesse, he . . .
He . . .
Where was Jesse?
Maura woke, one arm wrapped tight around the spare pillow. Her other arm stretched down her body, and her hand was deep inside her twisted pj’s, buried between her thighs. Her whole body was limp, pulsing with satisfaction, throbbing as if . . . as if the dream had been real.
Had she really . . . ? My gosh, could you bring yourself to orgasm in your sleep?
Good heavens, she really had learned how to do it. The M word. She pressed her palm gently against the damp folds of flesh, feeling her body begin to settle. Then she giggled, as a realization hit her. All those techniques in the book were wrong, at least for her. The trigger that loosened her inhibitions and freed her sexuality was the thought of Jesse Blue.
She grinned. Whatever the trigger, she wasn’t frigid. Definitely not. In fact, she might even be . . . hot. She giggled. A hot babe. Who’d have ever known that meek and mild Maura Mahoney had this astonishing capability for great sex?
What had she learned from this? Should she turn on the light and make notes?
No, she just wanted to fall back asleep and dream.
Maura woke up feeling almost aglow. She might be a late bloomer, but she was a sensual woman and one day she’d find the right man. Maybe, now that she’d awakened her sexual side, she’d discover new feelings for Edward on Friday night. Perhaps those exquisite tingles of arousal would dart through her. A girl could hope.
In her robe, she had breakfast at the kitchen table with the balcony door open to a fresh morning, and made her list for the day. Normally, she had Sundays and Mondays off, spending them on chores, reading, and enjoying her afternoon tea with Virginia Canfield. She’d lost her Sunday free time, what with Jesse Blue and the budget, and today she had a pile of chores to catch up on.
After showering and dressing, she got a load of laundry going, then she cleaned the week’s accumulation of odds and ends out of her purse.
The receipt from Sunnyside Nursery was there. She glanced at the total again, and it did seem amazingly low. Her accountant’s brain had taken note of the prices of several of the plants, and she remembered them as being more expensive than shown here.
She dialed the number shown on the receipt.
“Top of the morning,” a cheery female voice said.
“I was in yesterday and just reviewed my bill. Is there someone I could talk to?”
“Oops, did I mess up? It was busy yesterday.”
“Oh, are you . . .” Maura broke off before she said “Blondie.” Remembering the name Jesse had called her on the phone, she finished, “Chris?”
“That’s me.”
“Well, my bill looks a bit low.”
“Low? You’re calling because your bill’s too
low
?”
low
?”
Maura shrugged. It was a pity if honesty was such a rare occurrence. “Yes. I’m Maura Mahoney from Cherry Lane and . . .”
“Oh, yes, Jesse’s friend.”
Maura opened her mouth, then closed it again. It would be pointless to explain. “I was in with Jesse Blue, yes.”
“I gave you a deep discount. Same on that quote for the pool.”
Maura frowned. Why on earth would she have done that? Unless . . . “Because of Jesse?”
“Uh-huh.”
Aagh!
Maura—Cherry Lane—got a deal because a middle-aged blonde had the hots for Jesse Blue. She ground her teeth. “Did you get that approved by your employer?”
Maura—Cherry Lane—got a deal because a middle-aged blonde had the hots for Jesse Blue. She ground her teeth. “Did you get that approved by your employer?”
Chris chuckled. “I
am
the employer. My husband and I own this place. As for the discount, Jesse’s helped our boy a lot and we’re happy to pass on the favor.”
am
the employer. My husband and I own this place. As for the discount, Jesse’s helped our boy a lot and we’re happy to pass on the favor.”
“Helped your boy?”
“Danny’s sixteen, kind of wild. The first day Jesse was in here—he came in with a landscape designer he was working with—Danny and his dad were getting into it. Shouldn’t have had the argument here at work, but you know how stuff happens. Danny, who never has time to work here, comes in asking for some money, and his dad lights into him over how he’s spending his time, hanging out with a bad bunch of kids to all hours.
“It’s getting pretty heated,” she went on, “and then Jesse asks Danny, all casual, if he’s interested in basketball. Suggests Danny drop by these Monday and Friday evening pickup games at Delancey Secondary.”
“Really?” Maura asked, fascinated. So that was why Jesse couldn’t work at Cherry Lane those nights.
“Yeah, and Danny thinks Jesse’s cool so he goes. Since then, he’s cleaned up his act. He’s working here on weekends—he’s one of the guys who delivered your order. He doesn’t see his old gang nearly so often and has some new friends we actually approve of though we don’t let on. You know how that goes.”
“I guess.” Not that she had experience with kids, or with friends for that matter.
“So, anyhow, we owe Jesse. He said your seniors place doesn’t have a lot of money and the old folks would really appreciate a nice garden, so I figured I could do my bit to help.”
“That’s very kind of you. Jesse didn’t tell me.”
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