One More Kiss (Affair Without End Book 2) (6 page)

Fudge, top shelf. Grrr, Mr. Hyatt, there are women under five-foot-eight in Southern California. Lots of women that are five-foot-three and brunette just like me.

I struggle and finally get the blanket.  I look at the room. Where to have my picnic? I go into the living room and push back the coffee table until it’s beneath the window. I spread out the blanket.

I gather the things I brought from home—containers of cut cheese and fruit, olives, salami, fancy crackers, a baguette, some pretty plates, an abalone shell, and a box of those short, one inch scented candles.

I sink on the blanket and start to set out food. It’s one of the quirks I have. I can artfully arrange anything and make it look good, even a strange collection of this and that, brought from home for a picnic. The abalone shell, what do I put in the shell? I fill it with strawberries and put a candle in the center. I light the candle. Nicely done, if I do say so myself.

From the sofa I take the throw cushions and carefully toss them down on the blanket. Strategically, I place the box of candles around the room. After they are lit, I turn off the lights.

I smile. Jack will like this. I’ve never met anyone who likes simple things more than Jack. Now, where is that man?

CHAPTER FIVE

I hear voices in the hotel hallway and I sit up on the blanket. Pushing my curls from face, I arrange my body in a posture I hope conveys
I’m done with fighting. I just want to love you.

The door opens and Jack steps in. His eyes take in the room and then fix on me. He hangs back, staring at me. Now that he’s here, I’m feeling a little nervous about this. God, what if he thinks I’m being lame? What if this looks desperate and pathetic? Too late now, Linda. He’s here and this is the move you’ve made.

He doesn’t speak for a very long time. Then, “Hi, beautiful,” he says. He doesn’t move.

The tension leaves my body. Two words. His tones says it all. I’ve surprised him. He’s thrilled at being surprised, and just a hint relieved. We are in the same place physically and emotionally again.

I smile. “I thought an apology picnic was in order. I know you’re probably tired from being on stage and small talk and full of crappy, catered, fancy-smancy food, but some apologies can’t wait.”

He laughs, and his magnificent blue eyes are warm and filled with light. He sinks on his knees in front of me. He takes my face in his hands. “I’m the one who should apologize, Linda.”

I make a face. “Then apologize already.”

He makes a face back at me. He changes in a blink, serious again. “We’re going to be OK. You do know that, don’t you?”

“I know it now.”

Lightly, his kisses start to roam my face. In between touches of lips, he whispers, “I missed you tonight, baby. I was miserable without you.”

I arch a brow. “You must have been miserable. You called me twice.” I grow frustrated with myself. A little less joking from time to time would be a good thing. His soft lips move on my temple, filling me with sweet, swelling sensations. Quietly, I say, “I was miserable too.”

He eases back from me, sitting half reclined on a hip, close to me. “When did you find time to do all this?”

“I brought it with me from home. I get restless the last few hours before we’re together. I’ve got to keep myself occupied somehow.”

He runs a thumb along the line of my cheek. “Me too.” He smiles again. “I love that you thought of this and did it.”

I hand him a glass of sparkling water. “So how’d it go tonight? You knock them dead?”

He shakes his head, and there is something a tad discontent about him. “Nope. I was off.”

I frown. “So how was the after party? I bet it was crazy. Meet anyone interesting there?”

Shit.
That last part sounded like what it was. Just a touch of jealousy and smidge of bitchy.

Jack shakes his head. “That was off too. I felt like something was missing.” For a moment he’s perplexed. “I don’t know what… maybe…” and then his eyes start to glow. In a fast move, he’s rummaging around on my body, tickling me as his fingers move from my sides to my stomach to my thigh. “I was missing my Linda. Where is she?”

Gasping and laughing, I try to evade his hands as I fall back onto the blanket. “Stop that. Stop tickling me or your Linda is going to...”

His fingers move up from my thigh, his eyes round, and there’s a flutter across the opening of my sex. His face lowers into me and he trails kisses up my neck, whispering, “Oh, and Yolanda missed me and is happy to see me. Not even wearing panties.  I definitely missed Yolanda.”

I laugh. “You are such a weird man. Why do you call my vagina Yolanda?”

He nibbles my ear and then balances on an arm to stare down at me. “I don’t know. You just make me happy. And Yolanda definitely makes me happy.”

I relax into his touch. There’s a pleasant, heavy kind of seriousness between us now in spite of the silliness of our talk. “How’s Pedro?” I touch the front of his jeans.

“Better now that he’s with Yolanda.”

“How’s Jack?”

“Better now that I’m with you.”

I place a hand on his cheek, fingers spread wide. “Why don’t we go to bed. You’re not hungry. I can tell. It was pretty lame for me to do this tonight, wasn’t it?”

Jack slowly shakes his head. “Hell no. I want my picnic. I want all of it.”

Without warning, I’m flattened onto the pillow behind my head and surrounded by his body. I moan into his mouth, my lips parting and his tongue instantly scatters my senses. He gently teases his lower body against mine, making me ache and grind in return into what is definitely a fully aroused male. Jack continues to move against me, his breathing harsh, his hands and lips in an endless stirring assault. My body is on overdrive, quickening to each contact. My hands stray to his pants. He eases back from me.

“Oh, Linda. We’ve forgotten your picnic,” he groans, and my name on his husky voice nearly makes me come. The tie to my sarong is tugged open and the sides fall to the floor.  Jack nuzzles my breast and his mouth closes over the shirt covering my hardened nipple.

“We should eat,” he says softly as a finger plunges into me and his thumb titillates my clit. My insides shudder as he sucks harder at my breast and I arch upward into him.

I feel something again my lips. My eyes must have drifted closed and I open them. It’s a wedge of cantaloupe brushing me and the slightly chilled smooth texture feels…indescribably sensual. He teases my mouth with it and pushes in just the tip, while his finger goes deeper into me.

“Eat,” he whispers.

Slowly, tantalizingly, inch by inch, he feeds it to me, his fingers unrelenting in their enticing play on my inner nerves and clit. My muscles are clenching and pulsing, bathed in wetness. I’ve had men do a lot of things to me… I groan as his tongue follows the last of the fruit into my mouth...but who would have thought being fed while being finger fucked to be such a turn-on?

He kisses the juice from my chin, and lifts his face while his glorious fingers retreat from me.

“So wet. So ready,” he whispers and I hear the raspy passion in his voice. “This is not going to be quick. I want to savor every minute, every bite…”

His words stop as I arch up and moan. Something has slipped inside of me, cool and juicy and molding to my pulsing inner lining. It slips out. It slips in. Around my clit and then back again as his lips makes a slow descent from my breasts to my abdomen.

The melon is at my mouth. His finger go back inside me as he glides the tip of the wedge between my lips. I can smell me, taste me on the cantaloupe. I begin to pulse even stronger. He puts the remainder in his mouth, his finger going deep, his palm cupping my sex.

I grip the blanket, panting and quaking as he continues his merciless onslaught of fingers and fruit, tastes of me, and nips and kisses along upper body. My arms are shaking. My legs are shaking. My scalp is hot and prickly. To the edge and then back, and even in his retreat it continues gathering deep inside me. Oh please… the orgasm coming is so strong, stirred to ferocity.

Jack puts a piece of melon in my hand and then guides me there. He starts to remove his jeans, breathing heavily.

“Come on, Linda. Make it perfect for me,” he groans, and I plunge it inside of me. My eyes widen. It feels so glorious sliding in and out, warmed by flesh, juicy and softly teasing. The wedge is surprisingly firm and surprisingly pleasurable. I didn’t expect this. How deliciously it rubs my inner self. He grabs my wrist and bring it to his lips. As he takes it in his mouth, his fully engorged cock jerks and I reach out to fill my hand with him, but he stops me.

“Don’t touch me,” he says softly. “If you touch me I will cum too soon. I owe you a memorable orgasm after the shower. I can make you come really hard. But you have to trust me and be patient.”

He is on his knees above me and my body is aching for him to plunge that magnificent erection into me. Instead, he bends down, kissing me along my stomach. His mouth closes over my cunt, his breath heating me as he licks at the blend of sticky juice and me there, his fingers closing on my nipple, tugging on it gently.

The quaking intensifies.

“I’m so hard for you, baby. Do you want to come so intensely it will be unlike any time you’ve ever come before?” His tongue moves inside me, stirring that spot just beyond my entry, and my legs quake stronger.

I want him so badly I am not even conscious of what he’s doing to my body, that he’s flipped me over onto all fours. My breathing catches as he slams his flesh into me. He grabs my hips, plunging into me. I feel his lips on my back. My nipples are painfully hard.  The feel of him exudes through my limbs, my arousal so intense that I’m there on the edge, frenzied and hovering, without relief.

My need for release is blinding. His breathing is hard, matching mine, his pelvis driving a rhythm… I feel like I’m about to collapse and I haven’t even come yet.  My head starts to sway, side to side, with the motions of his body slamming into me.

I roll my hips, stroking my insides with his cock, knowing how to take him inside myself to get quickly to my orgasm, but he stills my hips and stop the race.

“No, lovely Linda.” He eases back until only the tip of him is in me and his withdraw is painful and glorious at once. Even that makes the shaking of my muscles intensified.

“We can make this so good for you,” he whispers. He plunges deeply within me. He stills. “Do you trust me, Linda? There are ways to do some of the things you don’t like to make them good for you. It can be gentle and erotic if it’s done with just the right touch. In just the right way.”

Things I don’t like?
I feel his thumb teasing the skin and nerves around my ass. I shudder, even while a distant voice is my head protests and wants to stop him, but I am consumed by need of him, the need of relief to my body, the blood pulsing in my veins and the heat running my flesh.

I don’t care what he does. My head sways around. I want this raging need in me satisfied. Panting I try to move on him, but he takes control and stops me again.

Then I feel something teasing my other orifice. It’s not his finger. It’s not his tongue. It’s not his cock. His cock is pulsing within my vagina. Whatever it is goes slowly, barely into me, and my wall there tightens, surprising me in pleasure not pain.  It’s velvety smooth and giving to the sensitive tightness of my body there. Just slightly in. Out. Then in again. I groan and he starts slamming his penis into me again, altering the flow, moving side to side, then back deep within me. Fucking me in both ends. Hard in my cunt. Gentle in my ass with whatever he’s slipped into my backside.

The wall of my vagina seems to melt and cling desperately to his erection in a way I’ve never known before. I tighten so overwhelmingly that it rends my center. I’m so close, so weak and alive simultaneously from the buildup. I can’t take much more.

“Oh, Linda, you are so wet and tight,” he breathes and I become nothing but a collection of tissue and sensation, completely mindless and trapped in a stormy eruption of a violent chain reaction.

Every cell in my body explodes in heat and shudders, and the insides of my vagina tighten in a pulsing vice grip around him. I’m plunging to earth, but there is no ground. The second it starts to ebb he penetrates me faster in the ass with the enticing probe he’s put within me, as his cock continues to pound in my cunt. My body is bursting with heat, so hot and prickly, running in currents along my flesh, and he continues. I can’t calm my body. I can’t calm my breathing. All strength is dripping from my limbs with the bludgeoning climax taking over my body.

My arms are so shaky I can’t support my own weight and I sink to the floor, my lower body still in the air, his hand holding me up and his body still raging inside of him.

“Linda,” he moans and I am huddled on the floor, trembling and absorbing the gush of his own orgasm.

When my senses return, I’m still curled in a ball on my arms and knees on the floor, fighting to just to breathe. Jack is still behind me, but his body has slipped from mine, and he is kissing his way up my back, his hands moving in comfort instead of stirring.

He gently lifts me from the floor and turns me in his arms to cuddle me against his chest. I wish I was in control of myself enough to say something, to say anything. I’ve never been consumed by pleasure so intensely before. I’ve never loved or trusted a man enough to let him take me anyway he chooses. To lie pliant in his hands while he consumes me. I’ve never known a man before Jack who I
could
trust not to take from my body what I don’t want to give.

He sets me on the bed and eases my tank top over my head, then tucks me beneath the sheets. I laugh silently in my head. He’s still got his shirt on. I haven’t the strength to laugh out loud.

He slips into bed, turning me on my side and easing me into the spoon of his body. I am exhausted and, yet, my body so alert I’m not ready to sleep. There is an unreal wakefulness about me, an unreal contentment in my languid limbs.

He kisses me gently on the back of my neck, in that spot I love. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”