Jane Shoup (8 page)

She closed her eyes, and
concentrated on giving him pleasure. She kept her mouth moving, the pressure
constant. She swirled her tongue around the head as she cupped and gently
squeezed his balls. She opened her throat as she drew him in, taking him
further and further back with each stoke, which he was beginning to strain
into. She reached around and felt his tight ass. She hadn’t seen it yet but she
knew it was as beautiful as the rest of him.

“Jen,” he moaned. “You have
to stop or
—
”

She didn’t stop, but
increased the pressure and speed. She’d recently gained some confidence in this
area.

“Jenny,” he bit out
gutturally. “Baby, I’m going to come.”

His body jerked and he
cried out. She swallowed, kept a hold on his hips, sucked and swallowed again.
She didn’t stop until he began relaxing, having fully spent himself.

“Oh, my God,” he breathed
out as he collapsed on the bed. “That was great.” He reached for her and pulled
her to him.

She laid her head on his
chest and listened to the pounding of his heart. She’d never felt so pleased
with herself following oral sex. Oral had been one of the only things Mitch had
frequently wanted, although she’d had to be taught to swallow. When she
couldn’t at first, he had pulled back and ejaculated in her face or on her
chest, depending on how much choice she had in the matter, how much he had her
physically constrained at the time. She’d hated that. It had made her feel
dirty and used.

Funny, she hadn’t been any
good at oral sex with Mitch. Yet, all the sudden
—

“Thank you,” Ryan muttered,
kissing the top of her head.

“You’re welcome,” she whispered.

The irony of her whisper
was not lost on him. “You’re next.”

“You don’t have to
—
”

He laughed. “She says I
don’t have to. Do you not know how much I want to taste you? I want to know every
inch of you, inside and out. I want to learn all your reactions. I want to be
able to make you heat up until you explode. I want to make you happy.”

She stroked his chest hair
and circled a nipple. “I think you’re wonderful,” she murmured.

“I love that you think
that,” he said. “That we think that about each other.” He paused. “Tell me what
you like, anything you like, and I’ll do it.”

She made a small sound of
objection.

“Jen,” he said in a low
voice. “Look at me.”

She did.

“Keep watching me.” He slid
down her body and in between her legs, pulling them apart. He studied her
pussy. “So pretty,” he breathed. He stroked with one finger and she jumped
slightly. He steadied her legs and touched again, probing deeper this time. He
looked back up at her flushed face. “So many folds,” he said huskily. “It’s
such a deep, mysterious place. Men are just out there. No mystery. But a woman
—
”
She muffled a cry as he shifted his hand, probing deep and low.“Is that good?”
he asked, “Or is this better?” He shifted his fingers.

She couldn’t answer, her
mind was too fuzzy, her senses too full.

He extracted his fingers
and lowered his mouth onto her. He wondered for a moment if she’d recognize the
feeling of him going down on her, but then he pushed the thought away. He parted
her legs further apart to get his tongue deeper inside her. Her breathing came
fast and her legs were shaking. Good signs.

He lifted her legs and
licked lower around her anus and her body jumped and quivered. It lent
encouragement. He pushed inside her anal opening with his tongue and the same
time he massaged her clit. It didn’t take long before her body to begin
spasming. He pulled back and watched her ecstasy. It filled him with the utter
certainty that she was meant for him. He had never felt power and control like
he felt with her. He moved back to her side and, when she could handle it, he
pulled her on top of him. She was sensitive and his swollen cock was anything
but, so he told her to move as she wanted. Her movements were tentative and
slow, and he couldn’t help shoving her further down on himself.

“Ryan,” she said, squeezing
her eyes shut.

It was so good to have her
call his name. He lifted his hips and his fingertips dug into the soft flesh of
her ass. Was it still sore from their adventure on Saturday? The thought of it
made him crazed with desire.

“Ryan,” she screamed. And
she came again.

He couldn’t stop. He kept
pumping, all the while watching her. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. His
second orgasm wasn’t as mind-blowing as the first, but it was as satisfying.

It was nearly one a.m.
before they fell asleep, curled up together like seasoned lovers.

* * * *

Ryan was gone by the time
the alarm woke Jenny. She looked around, momentarily confused by the deep
sleep, and saw a hand-written note on the bed beside her.

Jen,

The first best night of my
life was just followed by the first best morning. You are so beautiful when you
sleep. It’s damned hard to leave for work. I can’t wait to see you tonight.
I’ll grill salmon.

Love,

Ryan

She settled back on the
pillows, smiling and hugging herself. The bedroom door began opening and she
sat back up, expecting to see Ryan. Instead a sheepish looking Jimbo stood
there with his tail wagging. “Good morning,” she said in a low, raspy voice.

She got up to pee, brush
her teeth and shower. There was no time to run home if she were going to be on
time to work. All she could hope is that no one would notice she wore the same
clothes two days in a row. Her work jacket tended to make everything look
generic. For once, she was grateful for that.

* * * *

There was an enormous
flower arrangement waiting for her when she arrived at work, which meant
everyone noticed her and her clothes. It was hard to care too much as she
opened the small envelope and read,
To my girl with love, Ryan.

“I knew it,” Megan
chortled. “I knew there was a guy!”

“He was supposed to be my
patient,” Zoe said sadly, shaking her head. “If I hadn’t been so hung-over, it
might have been me standing here glowing all over the place.”

Jenny wasn’t going to even
bother denying it. She was so happy; it had to show on the surface.

“So,” Zoe said later when
they were alone. “Tell me everything. Is he good in bed? Is he well hung?”

“You are so crude!”

“And I have no social life.
No main squeeze. No kicks, no jollies. So, tell me,” she begged.

Jenny looked around to make
sure their conversation wouldn’t be overheard. Myra had a way of accidentally
overhearing private conversations. “He’s wonderful in every single way,” she
said. “He is.”

“Yeah, but I want to hear
about sex,” Zoe complained.

“He’s considerate, he
cooks,” Jenny continued.

“He loves eating pussy?”
Zoe chimed in. “Actually, tell me he hates it. At least that would make the
world a more fair place.”

Jenny laughed.“But the
world isn’t fair,” she said with as much mock seriousness as she could manage.

Zoe squealed. “I’m jealous,
but I’m so glad for you, kiddo. You deserve it.”

* * * *

Ryan called in the
afternoon and Jenny spent the first few minutes going on about the flowers.
“They’re beautiful,” she gushed. “Thank you.”

She’d already said it three
times. “You’re welcome,” he said yet again.

“When did you have the time
to order them?”

“When you were in the
shower, I got online.”

“Well, they’re beautiful.”

Four times. “I’m glad you
like them. Are we on for tonight?”

She bit her bottom lip. “I
think I’d better get some sleep tonight,” she said slowly.

“Okay.”

“No, I mean...at home.”

Silence. “You don’t want to
see me?”

There was so much dread in
the question, she hurt all over. “I want to see you so much, it’s hard to think
about anything else,” she admitted.

“I don’t get it.”

“No, that’s why,” she
explained. “Ryan, I haven’t felt this much, this fast, ever. Ever in my life. I
just
—
” Her voice faltered. How did she explain? How did she protect
herself without hurting him?

“Is this about your last
relationship? Because he hurt you?”

“I don’t know. In part,
maybe. I just think we need to go slow.”

“I’m not him, Jenny.”

“I know that. You’re
nothing like him.”

Ryan’s face and neck grew
hot. He knew what a heavy-hitter Mitch Crow was—an athlete, a restaurateur,
good looking and charming, but it hurt to have her say it.

Jenny shook her head,
struggling to come up with the right words. There was so much to say, but it all
seemed pathetic.
But after him, I can’t take any more hurt and humiliation
at all. I just can’t.

“Okay, it’s fine,” Ryan
said curtly.

She
could tell she’d made him angry, and it surprised her. He hadn’t seemed that
childish. “Besides,” she said. “It’ll be my turn to cook next.”

So you can kick me out when
you want to,
he thought bitterly. She was pushing him away, allowing for another mercy date
or two to ease him on his way. Was that what he’d been? A mercy date?

“Tomorrow night?” she
asked. “Seven?”

He swallowed. If it was a
mercy date, he wanted no part of it.

“Ryan, you’re not...”

“Yeah, tomorrow is fine,”
he interrupted.

He was pissed. It was
unbelievable.

“Can I bring anything?” he
asked.

His tone was cool, when it
had been so warm and loving.
God, have I totally blown it? How is that
possible just from not wanting to see him for one night? Especially when I
do
want to see him…and I told him so!
“No.”

“I’ll see you then,” he
said.

And he was gone, the call
disconnected. Jenny stared at the phone in her hand for a minute, unable to
process exactly what had happened.

Chapter Seven

Ryan, sitting at one end of
the bar, tried to be discreet as he watched Mitch. The man was a natural for
the restaurant business. Easy-going, a conversationalist, Mitch had a great
memory for people, calling customers by name. A couple of times, Mitch
sauntered close by, but they never made eye contact. He was simply making his
rounds, making sure everything functioned smoothly.

It was an upscale place and
Crow wore a rich, charcoal gray custom-made suit with a light gray mock
turtleneck shirt that suited him. He’s a playboy, Ryan thought, probably a
closet bi-sexual who had regular manicures. Just watching the guy and his
polished ways was pissing him off. How could Jenny have gone for a man like
that? She was so real and he was
gloss
. All shine and glamour and no
substance.

The middle-aged couple
sitting nearest him got up to leave and it was all the push he needed. Ryan
reached for his cell phone. He dialed Jenny’s number and waited, glancing
around to make sure no one was in earshot.

“Hello?” she answered.

“Be ready for me in one
hour,” he whispered.

“Wha
—
” she broke
off. “No. No, I can’t do that.”

Mitch Crow headed back
toward him, moving as if he knew every eye in the building was on him.
Can I
have your autograph, Mr. Crow
, his fans would clamor.
I saw you play
once. I can’t believe you have all your teeth with the hits you took.

“One hour,” Ryan hissed, ending
the call.

Mitch worked his way behind
him and around the front of the bar.“Doing okay?” he asked Ryan in passing,
flashing him a brief, very white smile.

“Yeah,” Ryan replied.
“Fine.”

Mitch went over to the
bartender, a young man named Tim, and showed him a note with what looked like
pride and amusement. Tim read and shook his head in amazement. “How do you do
it, man?”

Mitch laughed and shoved
the note in his pocket. “Guess I better go make a phone call,” he said, exiting
the opposite end of the bar.

Ryan downed the last of his
beer with the express purpose of getting the bartender over.

Tim noticed at once.
“Another?” he asked.

Ryan nodded.

“Here you go,” Tim said a
minute later, sliding a fresh bottle and fresh, frosted glass in front of him.

Ryan slid another
five-dollar bill across the bar. “Quiet in here tonight.”

“Tuesday,” Tim shrugged.
“You want a good night for picking up ladies, Thursday and Friday. Those are
the best.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. Definitely. You’ll
have some luck.”

“That guy,” Ryan said. “The
manager
—
”

“Mitch Crow. Okay, you’re
probably not going to have
that
much luck,” Tim laughed.

Ryan smiled easily.

“I’m telling you, women
throw themselves at him,” Tim said, leaning forward to rest his elbow on the
bar. “I’ve never seen anything like it. He can get them to do anything he
wants.”

“How do you know that?”
Ryan was careful to keep his tone light, like it was all a great joke.

“He just showed me this
note. It was from one of our hoes—hostesses,” he clarified. “They’ve been
flirting back and forth for a couple of weeks.” He leaned his head forward. “He
told her what he really wanted was a threesome with her and this other really
hot babe,” he said confidentially. He laughed. “She was all put off at first,
offended and shit, but that note said she’d arranged it. Going to be a par-taay
tonight, lucky bastard.”

Ryan suddenly wondered what
Mitch had coerced Jenny into doing. The thought set his teeth on edge.

“Keep them off balance,”
Tim said, straightening up.

Ryan jerked his head up. “Excuse
me?”

“That’s his philosophy,”
Tim replied. “Find out what they want, get it close enough to get a good whiff
of it, then always keep them wanting. That and keep them off balance.”

“Not my style,” Ryan said
dryly.

“You’d be surprised how
well it works, though.” Tim shrugged and walked off. “At least, for him.”

Ryan took a sip of his
beer, but it tasted flat to him now. He got up and left. A lot of agitation ran
through his system, but he knew the perfect way of working it out. He could
have been home cooking for her–rubbing her back, making love to her, but, no,
she hadn’t wanted that.

He climbed in his car and
slammed the door. “So, let’s see what she does want,” he muttered to himself.

* * * *

He tried the doorknob
slowly, found it locked, then moved off to the stairwell to call her.

“Hello?” she said after
several rings. There was a strain to her voice.

“It’s time,” he whispered.

“I can’t do this anymore.
I’ve met someone.”

“Put on your blindfold and
unlock that door.”

Jenny pressed on her
stomach. It was tight with nerves.

“Put on your blindfold and
unlock the door,” he repeated slowly, enunciating each word precisely.

Jenny folded her phone,
cutting it off. It was a childish way of dealing with a problem, but she didn’t
know what else to do. A knock at the door a moment later startled her. It
couldn’t be him. He wouldn’t be knocking...would he? She went forward in jerky
movements and looked through the peephole. There was no one in the hall. It
was
him. Where was he? He had to be in the stairwell or in another apartment near
her. Was that possible? She turned and flattened her back against the door.

Her phone rang again and
she jumped. She picked it up, but didn’t answer.

“Get that blindfold on,” he
warned.

Or what? What would he do?
Break down the door? She breathed out, realizing she was getting wet from the
thought. “All right. Yes.” She felt strange and slightly dizzy. She walked
toward her bedroom.
What is wrong with me? I’m going to mess up and
completely ruin it with Ryan…if I already haven’t.
She grabbed the scarf
and started back to the door.“But it’s the last time.”

“I’m not going to discuss
that now. Do you have it?”

She clutched her scarf to
her thumping heart. “Yes.”

“Do you have it on?”

“No.”

“Unlock the door and put it
on.”

“All right.” She hit the
end button and did as he’d instructed. She was probably mentally ill, doing
this. She had to stop–but he was there and…

She heard the doorknob
turn.

“Turn around,” he
whispered, shutting the door behind her. The apartment smelled of food—beef.
She’d been cooking. He checked the blindfold to make sure it was secure enough,
then grabbed her arms and leaned close to whisper, “I couldn’t wait for
Thursday. Not when you need discipline tonight.” He heard her breathe out in a
little, surprised huff. “I want your ass sore all week. When you sit, I want
you to think of me. And you deserve pain, don’t you, baby?”

She did deserve it. What
kind of woman got excited from this kind of thing? It was wrong, but he’d
turned something on in her
—
some sexual deviant switch.

In the bedroom, he wrapped
his arms around her and manhandled her breasts. He wanted tenderness yesterday.
He’d wanted to suckle and to please. Not today. Today he would make her hurt.
“You didn’t answer me. I asked if you deserved another spanking.”

“I don’t know,” she said
weakly.

He pinched her nipples hard
enough to cause pain. “I think you know.”

She shook her head, but her
lips were pursed and she breathed fast, her chest rising and falling with it.
He took off her clothes and reached between her legs roughly. “Why is your
pussy so wet?”

He walked around her,
watching her reactions. She was so lovely and so vulnerable. What had Mitch
made her do? He had to know. “I gave you an assignment. Did you do it?”

She swallowed. “You weren’t
supposed to be here until Thursday,” she reminded him.

“Then I’ll use my hand. It
will cause me some discomfort, but not as much as you.” He took hold of her and
led her to the bed. “Assume the position.”

She climbed up on all
fours, facing sideways on the end of the bed.

“Now put one hand behind
your back.”

She did, but it left her
somewhat off balance, having only one hand to hold herself up with.

He took hold of her wrist
with his left hand and began an assault on her buttocks with his right,
slapping hard and fast.

She managed to muffle any
sound for the first fifteen or eighteen strikes, she’d lost count, but after
that she cried out with each stinging blow.

“Pussy, now,” he announced.
“Spread those legs apart.”

She whimpered, shaking
badly as she attempted to do it, balanced on only one hand.

“Further,” he insisted.
“Make that pussy accessible to me.” He waited until she managed it. “Now, stick
it out.” He watched her arch her back, barely restraining a growl. He reached
inside her and satisfied himself that she was soaking wet. “Everything will be
nice and hot when I fuck you.” He withdrew his hand and slapped her pussy. “The
hair protects you,” he noted, pulling it slightly. “I want it shaved so I can
really make it sting. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” Her reply came out
forceful, guttural.

He slapped again and again.
Finally, he freed her hand and massaged her red behind. “Will it be sore enough
tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

“Will you think of this
when you sit down?”

“If I sit down.”

“Tell me what Mitch did to
you.”

The demand so shocked her,
her mind went blank.

“That vibrator of yours,”
he whispered. “Have you used it on your ass?”

“No!”

“Do you want me to?”

“N-no,” she implored,
shaking her head.

“Then answer me when I ask you
something.” He continued stroking her ass. It would be sore tomorrow, maybe
even slightly bruised. He pulled her ass cheeks apart, licked his finger and
ran the moistened tip around her tight hole. “I am going to fuck this sweet
thing eventually.”

Fear and excitement gripped
hard at her belly.

“I think about it a lot,”
he continued. He slipped his hand lower and began stroking her valley,
distributing her sweet cream from clit to ass. “Tell me.”

“We had sex,” she said
haltingly. “It was never very good. He blamed me. It was like he cursed me.”

“How?”

“He called me dried up,
sexless. And
—
”

“And what?”

“It’s what I became.” Her
voice was thick and strained.

“If you were ever dried
up…” He plunged two fingers deep into her wet well. “Then it was him. He was
the one who was cursed. You’re so sexual, you don’t know what to do with it
all.” He unzipped his pants and released his swollen cock, rubbing it up and
down her valley, moistening his head. He reached in his pocket for the condom
he’d brought and rolled it on. “Do you still love him?”

“No.” The answer was flat
and emotionless.

“Did you?”

“No, I don’t think so.” She
paused. “I wasn’t sure then.”

“But you’re sure now?”

“Yes,” she replied quietly.
“When you have a moment of the real thing
—
”

He felt uplifted by a surge
of hope. “Are you talking about our time together?”

There was a solid beat of
silence. “No.”

He hesitated, but finally
made himself ask the question. “This new man
—
”

“Yes,” she said quietly,
sparing him the need to finish the question.

His anger diminished. He
pushed inside her slowly, determined to give her sweet pleasure after the pain
he’d inflicted. He would pace himself and come only after she did. “Tell me
what you want,” he breathed. He purposely moved slowly, withdrawing before he’d
completely submerged himself.

“More,” she cried.

He gripped her hips and
gave her more, but still kept the movement slow. She rocked back against him,
and it made it hard to restrain himself.

“More,” she begged. “More!”

He acquiesced, filling her
completely. Her breasts joggled and her skin glistened with sweat. It took
willpower and withdrawing a few times, but he managed to outlast her.

“What if I want to come
back tomorrow?” he asked when they’d collapsed on the bed.

“I have plans,” she replied
quietly.

“Break them.”

“I can’t. I...don’t want
to.”

“Tell me about him.”

“I’d rather not,” she said
in a small voice.