Opal Carew

by Twin Fantasies

  “Secluded Hideaway?”

  “It’s a store.” He turned off the vibrator. The spiraling motion stopped. “They specialize in women’s sexual items.”

  He’d actually discussed this device with a woman in a store? Jenna would never do such a thing. She rather admired that about him. If only she were so relaxed about sexuality.

  “They have a full line of sex toys, lingerie, even women’s erotica. I bought a couple of books so you could try them out. On the side table.”

  She noticed three books on the table beside the couch. She picked up the top one. “Virtual Love?”

  “You work with computers so I thought you’d like the virtual reality theme.” He smiled. “And in the first scene the woman is captured by a pirate. I remember you mentioned something about a pirate that first day.”

  Oh, man, this stranger knew way too much about her. More even than Ryan, at least in this area.

  “I figure you can read the book to get interested, then use this while I’m at work and I’ll never know.” He winked. “Unless you tell me about it.”

  “For not wanting to pressure me into sex, you certainly want me to keep thinking about it.”

  “Jenna, sex is healthy. I want you to have an outlet for sexual release. I can certainly be that outlet, but, as I said, I don’t want you coming to me just for that reason. If you and I make love, I want it to be because you want to make love with me. Do you understand?”

  She nodded.

  “Don’t you realize that if I wanted to hurry you into my bed . . .” He picked up the device as he talked and waved it in front of her. “I wouldn’t provide something like this. I’d give you the books and hope you’d get all hot and bothered, letting it build up good and strong, with no other way to release it.

  “Now, that said . . .” He stepped closer to her. “I am a man and I do want you, so don’t let embarrassment keep you away.”

  . . .

  AFTER JAKE LEFT for work, Jenna put the books and the thing in the drawer in her bedside table and forgot about it.

  Actually, she tried to forget about it, but over the next few days, she opened the drawer and just stared at it several times a day. She actually pulled it out once and considered trying it, but what if Jake came home early for some reason? She’d be too embarrassed if he came in while she was using it, even if her door was closed. He’d probably be able to hear it.

  Five days after arriving at Jake’s, she sat on the living room side of the eating counter, her elbow on the counter and her face resting on her hand as she watched Jake prepare a fabulous dinner.

  Oh, man, he was sooo sexy in his gray shirt with the top three buttons open, revealing the slight sprinkling of hair across well-defined pecs. He’d discarded his tie within moments of entering the house after his day at work. His pleated charcoal dress pants accentuated his trim waist.

  He wouldn’t let her help prepare dinner, using her pregnancy as an excuse to make her sit down and relax, though he did let her sip cranberry cocktail from a wineglass and watch.

  Over the past few days, she’d found herself staring at him often, a stranger with a familiar face. Now, however, she found herself noticing the differences between Jake and Ryan rather than the similarities. Ryan hated to cook and when he did, he followed a recipe to the letter, or prepared something from a box. Jake seemed to fling in spices at random with a quick sprinkle or two from various hand-labeled bottles. He had a stand in the kitchen window with a variety of fresh herbs growing in small pots.

  Jake glanced up at her as she stared at the plants.

  “Do you like to cook, Jenna?”

  She grimaced, her gaze gliding around his gourmet kitchen, with the brass-bottomed pots hanging from the ceiling, the complicated-looking appliances on the marble countertop, and the fancy utensils in a ceramic stand by the six-burner stove and double oven.

  “Not like you obviously do. I cook because I have to eat, that’s all. I love to bake, but the results are too tempting, so I don’t do it very often. Just for the holidays.”

  Baking Christmas cookies was one of the rare childhood traditions she remembered that included Shane. Whenever he had visited Jenna and their mom over the holidays, the three of them baked fancy-shaped cookies and decorated them with colorful sugar, icing, and sprinkles. Shane had particularly liked the silver balls made of sugar and Jenna had loved the glittery red and green sugar.

  Jake smiled, his eyes twinkling. “I can just see you in this kitchen, your face smudged with flour, as you help our son or daughter cut shapes out of cookie dough.”

  Her hand slid to her stomach. She sensed the life growing inside her and maternal warmth washed through her. She longed for that day.

  “And what would you be doing?” she asked.

  “Basting the turkey, of course.”

  She grew misty at the lovely family image that triggered in her mind. Their child laughing as flour plumed in the air after the bag dropped to the floor. Jake laughing as he swept the little one into his arms and twirled him around. Just like her daddy had done with her—before he’d left.

  A happy family. Christmastime together.

  Her heart ached. She wanted that so much. From everything she knew of Jake, she was sure he’d be a fabulous father.

  And a wonderful husband.

  “Why don’t you pick a movie for us to watch after dinner?” he suggested.

  “Okay.” She shifted off the stool and strolled to the shelves along the wall beside the huge high-def TV on the main wall. She dragged her finger along the spines of the DVD cases.

  Judging from his collection, he liked different movies than Ryan, or rather a wider variety. Ryan liked sci-fi thrillers and movies with military espionage as the theme. Jake seemed to like those, too, but he also had comedies, mysteries, fantasy, drama, and some offbeat flicks. Her finger stopped on Run, Lola, Run, a fast-paced character-driven German film where a young woman repeated the same forty-five minutes trying to save her boyfriend’s life several times, allowing her to learn more about herself and the people around her. She skimmed along farther and stopped at the old movie Bell, Book, and Candle with Kim Novak and James Stewart, a movie about a witch in New York who casts a spell on a man but accidentally falls in love with him, losing her powers. It was one of her absolute favorites.

  Also among his collection was Paternity with Burt Reynolds. Her cheeks heated as she remembered that this movie was the one that had given her the idea of wanting to act out the fantasy of having sex with a stranger. There was a funny scene in the movie where Burt Reynolds did exactly that with the heroine to make sex between them more exciting.

  Jenna’s fantasy had never been about having sex with an actual stranger, but about spicing up her sex life with Ryan by pretending to be strangers.

  She pulled out the movie and stared at the back, not really seeing it. Now she thought about sex with an actual stranger. A stranger who was becoming very familiar.

  Well, why not? Jake had explained to her that Ryan was giving her this chance to get to know Jake. Ryan knew there was a high probability of Jenna having sex with Jake. She knew that because she’d drilled Ryan on the question. He had been reluctant, but had agreed when she’d said to be fair she should be able to explore that side of her and Jake’s relationship.

  She hadn’t really intended to do it. After all, she and Jake already knew they were compatible sexually.

  As she stared at the movie in her hand, she thought about the fact that she was already getting to know Jake. Soon, he wouldn’t be a stranger at all. That was good, but a little devil voice inside her screamed that her opportunity to try sex with a real stranger, in the only way she would ever consider it, was fast slipping away.

  “How did I know you’d be a fan of that movie?”

  Jenna’s gaze slashed to Jake, standing in the doorway from the kitchen with a steaming casserole dish in his oven mitt–covered hands. God, how did the man manage to look so sexy in kitchen attire? She jabbed th
e movie back onto the shelf. He raised an eyebrow and smiled knowingly.

  The beef stroganoff he’d made was absolutely delicious. After the meal, they settled on the couch to watch a comedy she quickly selected from the shelf, not paying much attention to anything about it except that it wasn’t Paternity. Sam curled up on the couch beside her.

  Unfortunately, she’d selected American Pie 2, which she’d vaguely mistaken for American Beauty. The movie turned out to be a sexy teen movie about college friends looking for sex.

  During the scene where two young women pretended to be lesbians to tease the guys, Jenna found herself surreptitiously glancing in Jake’s direction, wondering if this was one of his fantasies. Didn’t all men want girl-on-girl action? Certainly the moviemaker seemed to think so; one character hiding at the window accidentally transmitted his description of what he saw across the radio waves and every man in the county seemed to be drooling over the situation the main characters found themselves in.

  Although there was no actual sex during the movie, by the end, Jenna found herself thinking about sex. A lot. Her body thrummed with need, her aching nipples pushed outward.

  She really wanted sex. She wanted sex with Jake. She wanted to experience sex with a stranger, but a safe stranger like Jake. Damn, she wanted sex with Jake, stranger or not. She sucked in a breath, trying to reel in her hormones.

  As the closing credits rolled by, Jake grabbed the remote control and turned off the DVD, then turned on a Diana Krall CD. The sultry jazz curled around her. She took her last sip of cranberry and orange juice and settled back into the cushions of the couch, distractedly petting Sam, who purred happily.

  “Here, let me refresh that for you.”

  “Just water this time, please.”

  Jake retrieved her stemmed glass and headed for the kitchen. She picked up her knitting and inspected the three inches of soft turquoise yarn worked into a delicate lace pattern. Jake and she had chosen the yarn and pattern yesterday and she’d begun the sweater this morning. She couldn’t see any obvious mistakes, so she read the next instruction and began knitting again. Jake returned a moment later with a tall icy glass of water and a dark fizzy soft drink. He sat down beside her.

  “Jake, you know a lot more about me than I know about you.”

  He tucked his hands behind his head. “What would you like to know? What I do for a living? Where I went to school?” He took a sip of his soft drink.

  “I’d like to know about your sexual fantasies.”

  He almost choked on his drink. He set his glass on the table in front of them and twisted to face her. “My sexual fantasies?”

  She finished the row of knitting and placed her project on the side table. “Well, sure. You know mine. Some of them, anyway.”

  He raised an eyebrow and his lips turned up in a heartstopping grin. “You have others? What are they?”

  “You first.”

  “Well, there’s this one on an elevator I’m quite partial to.”

  She smiled. “Yeah, I like that one, too.” She leaned closer to him. “But I’m serious. What kind of guy fantasies do you have? For instance, I bet you’d like to have two women.”

  He gazed at her with a warmth she found unnerving.

  “Only if they were both you.”

  “Oh, come on. You’re just sucking up.”

  “Yes, sucking would have something to do with it. So would coming.”

  She batted his shoulder. “You’re terrible.” She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “Are you trying to tell me if two gorgeous women with boobs out to here—” she gestured six inches in front of her chest “—got naked in front of you and started kissing and stroking each other’s breasts, you wouldn’t get turned on.”

  “Of course I would. I’m not dead. What about you?”

  “Would I get turned on watching two women?” She blushed. “I don’t know.”

  “I bet you would, but that’s not what I meant. Would you get turned on with two guys?”

  “You mean watching them . . .” She flicked her finger back and forth. “Together?”

  “No, I mean, with you. Touching you. Kissing your breasts, one on each. Or one stroking here . . .” His hand slid up her stomach and circled around her breast. Her already hard nipples tightened even more. His other hand slid down her stomach and cupped her mound. “. . . while the other performs oral sex on you.”

  Her lower muscles pulsed, longing for him to touch her inside.

  “Well, that sounds pretty exciting.” She took the hand from her lower region and placed it on the side of her waist. He now leaned over her, looking down into her face. “But you’re avoiding telling me about your fantasy.”

  He tipped down and brushed his lips against hers. The gentle contact triggered a wild rush of sensations through her.

  “My one and only fantasy is when a beautiful woman named Jenna, a woman I care for very deeply, gazes into my eyes and says, ‘Jake, I want you to make love with me.’ ” He removed his hand from her breast to stroke her cheek with the tip of his finger. “And this woman would assure me she knows I’m not someone else playacting. She would know it’s me.”

  His lips found hers again and he caressed her mouth with his own. Tingles rippled through her. Her breasts swelled, demanding his touch again, but more thoroughly this time.

  “Jake, I. . .”

  “Jenna, I’m not my brother. We’re two totally different people.”

  “Yes, I know.” She stroked the side of his face, loving the feel of his wavy hair sliding between her fingers, loving the depth of longing in his eyes. “I knew that the first time we were together, though I thought it was an act then. Now I know that it was because you are a very different and very exciting man.”

  She tipped up her mouth for a kiss. His lips brushed hers sweetly.

  “Jake, I want you to make love to me.”

  His eyes smoldered and he tucked his hands under her legs and lifted her off the couch with him. As he carried her down the hall toward his bedroom, her nerves started to jitter.

  “Jake, I hope . . .” She hesitated.

  “What is it, sweetheart?”

  “I hope you won’t be disappointed with me.”

  He stopped dead in his tracks.

  “What are you talking about? How could you even suggest I might be disappointed with you?”

  “I was playing the part of a stranger, too. That’s not what I’m really like.”

  He smiled. “I bet that’s more like you than you think. In fact, I bet that’s the real you when you let down your barriers.”

  “But if it’s not?”

  He kissed her, a delicate pressure on her lips that built to a hard, insistent urging. His tongue swept inside her mouth and joined with hers in a pulsing dance. He drew back, leaving her breathless.

  “You could never disappoint me. In fact, why don’t you just lie back and let me do all the work.”

  CHAPTER 12

  JAKE CARRIED HER into his bedroom. The king-sized sleigh bed made of dark-stained oak dominated the masculine navy and burgundy room. He laid her down and sat on the edge of the bed beside her, gazing down at her with a tender smile. She reached for the buttons of his shirt, but he wrapped his hand around her fingers and drew her hands away.

  “I told you I want you to lie back and let me do all the work.”

  He stood up and unfastened his top button, then the second. He ran his fingers upward, parting the edges of the fabric, revealing the hard angles of his chest. Moving downward again, he unfastened another, then another, moving with painful slowness, the shirt parting, revealing his washboard abs a little at a time. He started to rock his hips from side to side. He unfastened his belt and tugged it from the belt loops, then tossed it aside.

  “Have you ever had a man strip for you, Jenna?”

  “Uh, well. . .”

  He grinned. “Why, you naughty girl.”

  “It wasn’t for me, exactly. It was for the bride-to
-be. And we were at a club.” Not in an intimate setting like Jake’s bedroom.

  “Well, sweetheart, this is all for you.” He dropped his pants, then kicked them aside. He discarded his socks, then turned around and lifted his shirttail to expose his gyrating butt. The muscles, tensing and releasing, formed the hardest, firmest ass she’d ever seen. She itched to walk up behind him and wrap her hands around his buttocks, to feel the movement of those hard muscles against her palms.

  But he’d told her to lie back, so that’s what she was doing.

  He turned around again and dropped his shirt off one shoulder, then the other. He pulled back one side, revealing half of his long, lean torso. Her gaze drifted to his nipple, which she longed to take into her mouth. He pulled back the other side of his shirt, then shrugged it off entirely. Holding the right sleeve with one hand in front of him and the other sleeve behind him, he drew the shirt between his legs and pulled it back and forth so that it rubbed over his crotch, and his growing cock, while thrusting his pelvis forward and back.

  Her own crotch had become uncomfortably tight. She wanted to touch him. Even more, she wanted him to touch her. He tossed the shirt to the floor. It landed on Sam, who had been sitting on the floor watching Jake. The cat murmured a complaint and stalked off.

  Jake stepped close to the bed and leaned in to kiss her. Her tongue flashed out, wanting to be inside his mouth. He allowed her one taste, then drew back and turned around. He reached down to pick up his shirt, giving her a great view of his tight butt only inches away. She reached out and touched the firm muscle. After permitting one brief squeeze, he stepped forward, out of reach, then glanced back at her with a devilish grin. He reached behind and drew down one side of his briefs, exposing half of one butt cheek, tantalizing her, then he drew down the other side. She licked her lips. Suddenly, he shoved his briefs all the way down to his ankles. He stayed bent over for a second or two while he stepped out of them, allowing her an eyeful of his tight, hard flesh. He stood up and turned slowly with his hands tucked in front, his briefs blocking her view of his cock. He stepped close to the bed.