by Jewel E. Ann
Luke set his beer down on the table. “And you call me OCD?”
“I’m disciplined, not obsessed.”
“Okay, I’ve failed to impress you with my piss beer or triathlon training. What do you have?”
Jessica’s eyes grew wide. “You want me to try and impress you?”
“Yes.”
“And what I just said didn’t do it?”
“It only explained why you have too much muscle, too little fat, and a personality stuck in overdrive.”
“Overdrive? Hmm … I’ll take that as a compliment.”
Luke shrugged while smothering his smirk that confirmed it was not a compliment.
“Fine, let’s see … when I’m not wearing a skirt or dress, I’m wearing jeans, black boots, a helmet, and riding around town on my motorcycle.”
Jessica had learned that Luke wasn’t easily surprised and rarely impressed, but she had captured his attention.
“Surprised? Impressed?”
The doorbell rang. “Yes and a little. I’ll be right back.”
He returned with the pizza and plates. “A motorcycle girl, huh?” The glimmer of curiosity in his eyes compounded everything else she already found irresistibly sexy about him.
“Anything with a motor really. My dad likes to work on cars and motorcycles in his rare moments of free time. He says it’s de-stressing and therapeutic. So at a young age I learned that if I wanted to spend time with my dad, it was going to be under the hood or beneath a car, handing him greasy tools.”
“Your brother too?”
“Jude? No way. Jude didn’t even care to get his driver’s license at sixteen. He’s a computer geek or ‘genius’ in his words. The first car he bought himself was a Jetta … a Jetta! Can you believe that?”
“I hear they’re reliable cars.” Luke took a bite of pizza.
“Oh my gosh! You have one, don’t you?”
He shook his head, dabbing his mouth with a napkin. “No, I’m just making an observation.”
“Well, don’t.” Jessica rolled her eyes at her brother, knowing that he was somewhere sensing her disapproval.
After a dinner that felt a galaxy away from their doctor-patient relationship, Jessica looked at her watch that read a quarter to eleven.
“Oh crap! I’ve kept you up way too late.” She stood, grabbing her plate and wine glass.
“I’ve got it.” Luke took them from her. “And it’s fine. I’ve …” His face tensed into his signature contemplative look that Jessica had come to recognize.
“You’ve?”
He smiled, but it was almost painful looking. “I’ve had a nice evening … with you.”
Jessica opened the balcony door for him and risked a quick glance. “Me too. Thanks for dinner and everything.”
“You’re welcome.” He set the plates on the counter and walked her to the door.
“I’ll see you in a few days.”
Luke nodded, shoving his hands into his back pockets. “Good night, Jessica.”
She stopped before shutting the door. “I gotta know … the socks … that was a game or lesson right? You don’t really iron your socks do you?”
He smirked, but just barely. Leaning down next to her ear until his lips gently brushed it, he whispered, “Good night.” Then he pushed the door the rest of the way closed.
The deadbolt clicked as she stood in the hall, eyes closed, skin tingling with goosebumps, fingers ghosting over her lips that curled into the most smitten smile ever.
Chapter Sixteen
Knight
In the spirit of why-the-hell-not, Jillian accepted a working lunch date with Rick Willey, the boss of her most recent Lascivo party hostess. Rick, by any other woman’s standards, was a handsome, successful bachelor. He had a good-ol’-boy look with his ten-dollar haircut, Lee jeans, and boyish smile. Rick ran a multi-million dollar construction business by day and immersed himself in the world of kinky sex toys by night. Enter Jillian.
“Thanks for lunch. I have to admit, I’ve never had a picnic in the back of a pickup before.”
Rick nodded with ignorant pride. “I had to keep an eye on my crew, but I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to have lunch with you. Gina said you’re my soulmate. Thought you might like seeing me in action, you know … dominant and in control of my crew.”
The poor attempt at sexual innuendo brought a mini-vomit up Jillian’s throat. She swallowed it back down and held open her front door.
“Uh, yeah … there’s nothing sexier than a guy that knows his way around a walkie-talkie.” She rolled her eyes as he followed her into the house.
“So … how does this work?” He bit his lower lip and nodded slowly.
Jillian fought the grimace that pulled at her face as his eyes roved her body. “Eww …”
“Excuse me?” He leaned closer.
She cleared her throat. “I said you need to try the new vibrating pleasure pocket.”
“Oh yeah?” He strutted his neck like a bird.
“Yeah, just a second.” She retrieved the pleasure pocket from her box of toys.
“What if it doesn’t fit?”
Jillian made a quick inspection of his scrawny body. “Sorry, it doesn’t come in a smaller size.”
He smirked, wiggling his eyebrows. “I’m not talking about it being small … if you know what I mean.”
More bile crept up her throat. “I’m sure it will be fine.”
“Maybe I should try it first. Maybe you could demonstrate it on me.”
There were indeed a lot of maybes, but Jillian’s were more like: Maybe I should be selling you a strap on penis or a magnifying glass to find yours, or maybe I should shove my thumb into your jugular and put us both out of our misery.
Jillian held up a finger and ran back to the bedroom, returning a few seconds later with a condom. Rick’s eyes lit up. Another eww escaped Jillian’s mouth. “Here, go to the bathroom and try it out.”
His brow furrowed. “With a condom?”
“Yes. If you don’t like it I can’t very well sell it to someone else after you’ve shot your spunk into it.”
He took it with a reluctant look on his face. “Okay. Are you going to wait out here?”
“Yes.”
“Will you talk to me while I’m in there trying it out?”
“No.”
His shoulders slumped as he went into the bathroom.
A shivering jolt of heebie jeebies wracked her body.
“I’m removing my pants,” he called.
“I don’t need to know that.” She cursed Jackson and his stupid job choice for her.
“I’m sheathed and slipping it on my big guy,” he continued his commentary.
She stuck her fingers in her ears and squeezed her eyes shut.
“Oh fu-fu-fuck! This is g-good!”
“Yoo-hoo?” Greta called though the screen door.
“Shit! Who’s that?” Rick yelled.
“My neighbor. Just … finish up.”
“What? I can’t. What do I do? Oh God! It’s going f-faster. Shit, fuck, shit! I-it won’t sh-shut off! Help!”
“Jillian?” Greta called as the screen door opened. “Is that you?”
“I’ll be right there, Greta.”
“My dick’s going to break off!”
“Shh! Calm down and open the door.”
The door flung open and a panicked Rick shuffled toward Jillian with his pants at his ankles and his hands gripping the pleasure pocket like a fireman with a hose.
“Don’t come out—”
“Get it off!” Rick charged toward her and Jillian stepped to the side. He tripped and flew forward into the newel post. “Ahh … fuck.”
“Jesus! Are you all right?”
“What’s going on in there?” Greta’s voice drew closer. “Is everything okay?”
“Don’t touch me!” Rick grabbed his pants, pulling them up his legs with one hand while the other covered his bloodied nose, shoving past Jillian and nearly bo
wling over Greta as he shot past her and straight out the front door.
Jillian smiled at Greta as if nothing happened. “Hey, Greta. What’s up?”
*
Sergeant Monaghan slept in his office for three nights, worked out with punishing intensity, and snapped at everyone around him until his superior sent him home for a mandatory week’s vacation. Exactly what he did not need: close proximity to his neighbor. Cage started daily practice which meant AJ did not see him very often. As much as his son pushed his buttons, he also knew how to handle AJ’s episodes of anger and pain.
“Yoo-hoo … Sergeant?” Greta waved at AJ the moment he got out of his Jeep.
He forced a smile. “Hi, Greta.”
“Oh my, I just feel terrible. I made a complete inaccurate assumption and now I feel obligated to set the record straight before any rumors get started around here. Not that we’re a bunch of gossipy people or anything.”
“No, of course not.” AJ choked out the words lacking any sort of sincerity.
“Any hoo … I know this is going to come as a shock to you, it’s been for everyone else, but the Knights … they’re not married. They’re actually brother and sister.”
“No!”
“Yes, I know. Who would have thought, right?”
“Yeah, who would have thought? So how did this get brought to your attention?”
“Well, it’s rather embarrassing but Stan’s wife, Lynette, saw Jackson kissing some woman in the driveway that was not Jillian. So she told Stan, Stan told Dodge, Dodge told Marvin, and when Marvin told me … well, my heart just broke for poor Jillian. In spite of her questionable attire and well … evening profession, we’ve come to adore her. She’s done so much for Lilith, you know. So I gathered up my courage, made a batch of fudge, grabbed a box of tissues, and paid Jillian a visit when Jackson’s car was gone.”
“And what did she say?” AJ widened his stance and crossed his arms over his chest.
“Funny thing, actually. The front door was open so I hollered through the screen door and the next thing I knew there was this big commotion and this strange guy came running out, tugging up his trousers and blood was dripping from his face. Then Jillian came to the door looking as calm and collected as ever.”
“Who was he?”
“Well, at first she told me he was an interior designer and he had a seizure on the toilet, felt utterly embarrassed, and then ran out.”
“What?”
“I know, Jillian has exceptional taste why would she need an interior designer? It just didn’t add up. Then she saw the fudge and box of tissues, so I decided to forge ahead with my original mission. And when I finally worked up the nerve to tell her, she fell into a fit of laughter and proceeded to tell me that Jackson’s her brother. Then she told me on the, and I quote, ‘down low’ that the guy I saw running out of the house was actually her date and he injured himself…” Greta looked around then lowered her voice “…with a PPD.”
AJ cleared his throat. “Excuse me?”
Greta made another visual sweep of the area. “Personal Pleasure Device,” she whispered closer to his ear. “But you didn’t hear it from me. I’d hate to start any rumors.”
AJ’s jaw clenched while the silent pulse of a headache grew with each passing second. “Thanks for clearing all that up, Greta.”
“Don’t mention it, dear. I’d better get back to Marvin. He’s trying to shove a beer can up a chicken’s ass for dinner tonight.”
AJ nodded. As soon as Greta crossed the street, Jackson pulled out of their garage in Woody. He shot AJ a smile and waved as he drove out of the development. AJ needed to start doping-up on pain meds, but his urge to pay Jillian a visit hijacked all commonsense and urgency for self-preservation.
“Coming!” Jillian called when AJ rang her doorbell.
“Sarge.” She glanced at her watch. “You’re home early. But then again it’s been days since I’ve seen you around at all. Did you take a trip or have you been avoiding me?” She opened the door to let him inside.
“Someone witnessed a bloodied victim of yours fleeing the scene of the crime.”
Jillian smiled as she leaned against the piano. “Good news travels fast around here. I thought it would. Yes, I had a date. The hostess from my Lascivio party last week fixed me up with her boss. No need to be jealous, AJ. I made him take me to lunch before he got to second base. I also made him ask for permission, which you didn’t do.”
AJ stared at her through slit eyes. “Greta said he ran out with his pants down!”
She chuckled. “So you are jealous. I told you, all you had to do was take me on a date.”
AJ shook his head in disgust and walked toward the door. “If that’s all it takes, then you’re a cheap fuck.”
*
AJ gulped down two pills with a tall glass of water before his doorbell rang. He hated his temper and the sharp words that sliced through his mouth. Even more, he hated that his neighbor robbed all his control.
“What?” he groaned, seeing Jillian on the other side of his screen door.
“You are such a stubborn ass!” She threw open the screen door and shoved his chest, forcing him back a few feet.
“What the hell?”
“It was a vibrating pleasure pocket. Rick Willey loves two things: softball and sex toys. That’s why he got fixed up with me. We went to lunch and then I offered to show him a few things. He was interested in the masturbation aids so I sent him into the bathroom with it and a condom. A few minutes later Greta hollered into the house, Rick flew out of the bathroom door with his pants still around his ankles, thinking the pleasure pocket was malfunctioning, then he face-planted into the newel post. Before I could help him with his bloodied face, he ran out the door.”
AJ shook his head and stepped farther away from Jillian. “I don’t care.”
“Well I do! I’m so sick of you going from hot to cold with me. Like I’m some snow white virgin with you but the moment you think I’m with some other guy I become the neighborhood whore. It’s been well over six months since I’ve had sex, AJ. So stop with your narcissistic bullshit because I’m sure you’ve planted your dick in plenty of women over the past six months.”
“Shut up.”
“Don’t tell me to shut up!” Jillian stepped closer.
“Shut. Up!”
The most inevitable explosion happened in that moment. Their lips collided and the pain was stronger than the pleasure, but the undeniable need trumped everything else. AJ slammed Jillian into the wall and removed her shirt with brute force. She fought back, shoving him against the opposing wall sending a framed picture crashing to the ground. Their bodies pinballed from wall to wall as each vied for control. AJ’s pants were yanked down with expert hands that clawed at his briefs until they too were tangled at his ankles.
AJ fisted her hair with both hands as she licked a trail up his leg, tracing his line of muscles while a dark predatory look burned in her eyes. An involuntary jerk of his hips pushed his strained erection closer to her as she dragged her tongue along his hip bone. He wanted, he needed her mouth sheathed around him, but she wrapped her hands around his wrists as he tried to bring her head to the place he wanted her mouth.
Jillian shook her head. “Not yet.” She pushed up his shirt and traced his flat, dark nipple with the tip of her tongue before sinking her teeth into the taut skin of his pectoral muscle.
“Fuck!” he groaned against the burn, yanking her hair until his mouth was on hers again.
She stroked his erection then cupped his balls with a firm grip.
“Shit! N-not yet …” He broke their kiss and rested his forehead against hers, whispering his plea through labored breaths. “Not. Yet.”
“Now.” She narrowed her eyes and slid her hand up his shaft, circling the pad of her thumb over the bead of cum on the head.
“Dammit!” He pumped himself into her hand over and over thinking each time would be the last. Thinking he’d find the control to stop.
Jillian shoved him away, leaving both of them breathless. “Take your shirt off,” she demanded as she removed a condom from the pocket of her jeans.
The swollen tip of AJ’s erection thickened even more when he saw confirmation of Jillian’s intentions. Leaving her gaze fixed to his, she held the foil square between her teeth and removed the rest of her clothes. AJ shrugged off his shirt and stepped out of his boots and pants. He reached for the condom. Jillian shook her head, grabbing one end and ripping it open with her teeth.
She stepped forward and stroked him over and over until he began to feel weak in the knees, then she rolled the condom onto his hard length.
“Bedroom.”
She shook her head and turned, planting the palms of her hands on the wall, legs spread wide. AJ stepped closer and began to fist her hair.
“No. You can grip my hips, touch my clit, or massage my breasts. No hair, and don’t touch my hands or arms. Got it?”
AJ didn’t answer. He bent his knees and guided his erection between her legs where she grabbed it and rubbed it along her wet folds until the firm tip grazed her clit. She moaned, dropping her chin to her chest. She watched them and it nearly sent him over the edge. The deep hum of her pleasure quickened his pace. He was losing control. Every time he angled his pelvis to gain entry she denied him, taking her own pleasure as he slid across her swollen sex.
AJ rested his left hand flat on the wall above hers without touching it and squeezed her breast with his other hand. His legs burned from squatting behind her, his back ached from bending over her.
“Shit!” She cried out as he pinched her nipple, tugging at it with firm pressure. Jillian slid her hand along his erection until she had him literally by the balls.
“Fuck! Right. Now!” he growled, sliding his hand down from her breast.
On his next thrust he engaged the tip into her opening and impaled her with such desperate force that the moment her tight muscles gripped him he released. He continued pumping his hips into her as she milked his orgasm. It wasn’t his proudest moment, but her words had been licking his dick for weeks.