Show and Tell (26 page)
Speaking of hot, it started raining again just before Scott arrived, and he shook water droplets off his hair. Oh my God. He was magnificent. Her heart beat faster against her red suit jacket as his eyes roamed her body.
Handing him the tickets, she took his arm. “When I was younger, I used to punish a man for looking at me that way.”
He smiled, all devil-may-care white teeth. “And how did you punish them?”
She laughed. “I spanked them.” She wouldn’t have dreamed of spanking a man. Besides, she adored the way Scott looked at her as if she were a candy he had to unwrap and devour.
He kissed the tip of her nose. “I’d prefer spanking you.”
“You wish. No one spanks me, buster.” She tugged him inside the lobby. She’d never been spanked. The thought of his hand on her bare bottom set butterflies loose in her tummy.
“We better get in,” she quipped to mask his effect on her, “or we won’t get a seat at all.” Right. There wasn’t another moviegoer in the large, lushly decorated lobby.
The carpet was swirls of bright, exotic flowers, the walls covered with murals of jungle scenery, and the floor in front of the candy counter the same green, gold, and black speckles as out front. The scent of fresh buttery popcorn perfumed the air, and the teenage countergirl wore a jaunty burgundy jacket with gold buttons and braided trim.
“Don’t you want some candy, little girl? Or shall I eat
you
?” His voice low, the joke for her ears only, yet Trinity blushed as he led her to the glass-fronted counter stocked with assorted boxed and bagged candies.
you
?” His voice low, the joke for her ears only, yet Trinity blushed as he led her to the glass-fronted counter stocked with assorted boxed and bagged candies.
The pretty brunette took their tickets, ripped them, and returned one half. “If you buy an extra large popcorn and drink, you get free refills all night.”
Scott squeezed Trinity’s hand. “What would you like, honey?”
She almost laughed at the endearment. “Malted milk balls.”
He gave her a look. She leaned in to nip his ear and whispered, “I want to lick the chocolate off your lips and taste the malt ball when I suck your tongue.”
He laughed, choked, and pushed a bill across the glass. “A box of malted milk balls, please.”
Doling out his change, the girl slid over the candy. “Thank you, sir.” Her voice was as jaunty as her jacket.
“Does that lead up to the balcony?” Scott pointed to a curving, carpeted stairway.
“Yes, and we have new comfy seats, too.”
The place must have cost a mint to restore. As they mounted the stairs, Trinity could almost imagine movie stars of old decked out in fine evening dress attending a grand premiere.
With the rainy evening, she would have expected more people, yet few patrons dotted the lower section of the nine-hundred-fifty-seat theater, and the balcony was empty. The movie house was a gorgeous sample from the Hollywood heyday, with faux columns jutting out from the walls painted to look like marble and murals of Greek gods, nymphs, and mythic creatures cavorting about Mount Olympus.
Scott held her hand as they negotiated the steep balcony steps to the top row, then guided her into the corner seat.
“I can’t see the screen it’s so far away,” she murmured.
Tossing his suit jacket next to him, he loosened his tie before taking his seat. “I’ll tell you what happens.” He placed her hand on his cock. He was already hard.
“Mr. Sinclair,
what
do you have planned for a dark theater?”
what
do you have planned for a dark theater?”
He shook the box of malted candy. “I think you should suck one of my balls.”
Her mouth watered, yet she couldn’t help laughing. “You’re a very bad boy.”
He spilled two pieces of chocolate onto his palm, his eyes sparkling in the house lights. “But you’re a very good girl, and you’ll do exactly what I tell you, won’t you?”
Her heart skipped, then raced. Just like on the phone when he’d directed her, right down to the moment
he
allowed her to orgasm. She loved his teasing.
he
allowed her to orgasm. She loved his teasing.
“Give me one of your balls.” She held out her hand, then popped a chocolate bite in her mouth at the same time he did.
“You like?”
“Mmm.” She adored malted milk balls, but she hadn’t had one in years. “They’re very yummy.”
He leaned in, cupped the back of her head, and tasted her. Everything was chocolate and malt, his tongue, his breath, his lips. Light, flavored kisses she wished could go on forever.
Then the house lights dimmed, and the curtain rose. “Shh, the movie’s starting.” He felt too good. She wanted too much. For a moment, it was terrifying. Trinity tried to pull away.
Instead he held her palm fast to his cock, using her touch to massage himself. “Don’t talk, just do whatever I tell you.”
The game was too good to spoil with silly emotions. “Yes, sir,” she murmured.
“Shh.”
She zipped her lips, then shifted to get comfortable as she curled her fingers around him.
The opening credits rolled. He leaned close, his breath against her hair. “You picked a good one, my dear. This is a very hot movie.”
“Don’t tell me anything. I want to be surprised.”
He kissed her openmouthed, hard and fast, to shut her up.
When the sultry Kathleen Turner dropped her shaved ice down her low-cut blouse, Scott unzipped his pants and wrapped her hand around his cock. She smoothed droplets of pre-come over his crown. Turning to him, she slowly raised her fingers and sucked his taste clean.
Scott went up in smoke. “You are so damn nasty.”
She simply smiled.
Tugging her close, he devoured her mouth, slipping his hand inside her jacket to pinch her nipple. Christ, she wasn’t wearing a damn thing under there. She hissed under his lips, and he pinched harder until she moaned.
Pulling back, he sagged against his seat, fighting for breath. He wanted to come, now, but they hadn’t even gotten to the really sexy movie scenes.
“Stroke me.” He didn’t beg, he demanded.
She closed him inside her fist, caressed him, her gaze on his face, making him wild with the intensity in her dark blue eyes and the heat of her grip.
“What if there was a guy sitting right over there watching you jerk me?” He nodded down the empty aisle, his voice a whisper in the dark.
Keeping her silence the way he’d instructed, she merely smiled, then blinked, slow, lazy, boiling, the movie lights glimmering across her face as the scenes changed. She pumped his cock harder. She held him tight, no limp girlie grip.
“That’d be fucking hot,” he went on, wrapping his own hand around hers. “He’d want you. But he’d see you were mine.”
She shook her hair out, licked her glossy red lips.
“I’d want you to suck me, show him how fucking good you are, how goddamn perfect.” He cupped her chin, stroked her lips with his tongue, then backed off. “I’d want him to see you take my come down your throat.” It was primal, the lion fighting all comers for his mate. “Take my cock,” he seduced her with his own desire and need.
His Jezebel didn’t hesitate. Bending to his lap, she licked away his pre-come, then took him all the way, down her throat. He bucked up against her, almost coming with that first deep swallow. She had him on the edge. Simply being with her made him crazy. Holding her head down, he pumped his hips, begging her to take him. It was so damn fucking good, the heat of her mouth, her hair falling over him, the movie on the screen.
He craved passion, yet somehow she gave him something infinitely better. She’d given him back his youth and aliveness.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he whispered, head back, eyes closed.
Until he heard the upstairs door.
An usher trolled the front aisle of the balcony, picking up a few bits of trash. Cupping his hand to her forehead, Scott lifted her, then zipped his pants. He couldn’t breathe. He could barely focus his gaze. Yet he leaned into his perfect, gorgeous, sensual Jezebel. “Lift your skirt.”
She tugged the sexy red skirt up her thighs, barely revealing her pretty bush. He wanted to taste her.
The usher disappeared out the doors, and on screen, William Hurt picked up Kathleen in a neighborhood bar. The actress was sexy, but Jezebel was more of everything. No woman’s mouth had taken him that quickly to orgasm. If not for the interruption, he’d have blown sky-high. And he wasn’t ready. He wanted to ride that sweet knife edge awhile longer.
“Touch your clit.” He licked the rim of her ear. She shivered with her whole body, sucked in a labored breath, and shoved her hand between her thighs.
Slouching in the seat, she plumbed her depths. Without taking his eyes off the movie screen, Scott pulled her leg up to the armrest, draping her calf over his knee, and stroked her thigh. Her sexy, aroused scent filled his head, and the barely there sound of her slick pussy enthralled him.
Kathleen took William home, and she was wearing the same damn red skirt as Jezebel. He played with her leg, her calf, caressed, dragged his nails along her skin, the soft sounds of pleasure she made driving him nuts.
It was like lying on the other side of the wall that first night, listening to her. His cock ached to slide inside her.
“I want your fingers in my mouth.”
Closing his eyes, he sucked her sweet, tangy, delicious juice from them. He opened his lids once more to the crash of breaking glass and good old William tearing at Kathleen’s red skirt. Scott turned in his seat and slid a hand along her thigh as he covered her mouth. After one deep kiss, he backed off and whispered, “Watch the movie.”
She shuddered as he licked her ear, then blew on her. Her skin was warm, her pussy wet, her clit a hard nub beneath his fingers. He circled and swirled, using her own moisture to tantalize. Biting her earlobe, he worked his way to her cheek and licked, then her throat, mimicking the movements of his fingers with his tongue. She squirmed, her breathing rapid, her nails digging into his shoulder. He could almost hear the beat of her heart. Glancing up, he found her gaze glued to the screen, her bottom lip between her teeth.
“I’m going to make you come.” He pushed a finger deep inside her. Her throat worked, and he sucked her skin. He took her clit with his thumb and her pussy with two fingers. Her body undulated with his rhythm. “Don’t make a sound,” he ordered.
She moved with him, let him fuck her with his hand, her breath harsh, her lips parted. His mind was steeped in her scent, her taste still sweet on his tongue. She slipped her hand inside her jacket, played with her own nipples. The sight of her, the feel of her pussy, made his balls tighten and pre-come dampen his trousers. The music crescendoed, and the couple did the nasty on screen while Jezebel convulsed around his fingers, and when she came, he swallowed her cries in his mouth.
SHE came to herself tucked securely against his shoulder, his arm around her. God, he smelled good. The light scent of laundry detergent on his shirt, soap on his skin, all mingled with the aroma of warm body and come. She could still taste him.
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