by Jewel E. Ann
He dragged his tongue along her back while massaging her clit.
“Oh God … I need this,” she groaned as she came apart under his touch. Her body sagged into his hold and he relished the fleeting moment of vulnerability—surrender.
He pulled out and slid two fingers inside her. Jillian responded to his touch with renewed vigor. She wasn’t done and AJ knew one thing … neither was he.
*
“Why are we on the floor?” AJ mumbled with Jillian’s body draped over his chest.
She’d been tracing random things on his chest with her fingernail. After the wall, he lifted her onto the kitchen counter and spread her wide, and then a third time, on the floor, with her on top. Every time he tried to lead them to his bedroom he was met with adamant refusal. Sex had never felt like such a power struggle. It aroused him and frustrated him in equal parts. Jillian took control then relinquished it only to take again, like putting something in a shopping cart and then back on the shelf over and over. Indecisive. It wasn’t a word AJ ever imagined using to describe sex, but that’s exactly what it was with Jillian.
“I only brought over three condoms, but if you have some we could test out the stairs.”
He closed his eyes and rolled his head side to side. “You can’t makeup for a six month dry spell all at once. And I hate to play the age card, but dammit, woman, I’m exhausted and my back is killing me. What do you have against beds?”
“It’s getting late. I need to head home.”
AJ grabbed her ass and she grinned. “What in the hell is a vibrating pleasure pocket?”
“Think of it as a dildo for men. Would you like to give one a try?”
“Fuck, no! Why do you sell that shit?”
Her lips pressed to the dried blood where she’d bit his chest. “If I told you, you wouldn’t believe me.”
“You’re probably right,” he mumbled in exhaustion.
She eased off him and grabbed her clothes, opting to wear her undergarments too instead of carrying them home. AJ peeked open his heavy eyelids, admiring her body, remembering the salty taste of her sweat-glistened skin and the feel of her muscled legs clamped around his waist as he rocked into her. She was dangerous, unforgettable, and lethally addictive.
“Thought you were too tired, or are you just saluting me goodbye.” She fastened her jeans.
AJ was fully erect again. Just the thought of her played havoc on his control. “I might need an extra leg to help drag my tired ass into bed.”
She laughed at AJ’s rare moment of humor that he still managed to deliver without a smile. “Good night, AJ … best sex I’ve had in over six months.”
He waited until she shut the door and then he grinned.
“I see you smiling, you grumpy bastard!” she yelled while banging her palm against the sidelight window.
Chapter Seventeen
The loving chime of “ass up, shoes on” woke Jillian three hours before her usual time. She took refuge under her pillow and comforter, a symbolic bug off! Jackson snagged the covers then yanked Jillian’s pillow from her grasp before taking them hostage in the living room.
“Asshole!”
“You’ve been slacking, so I’m taking you for a run this morning,” he called.
Jillian reached in every direction for something, a sheet or blanket, but Jackson took them all.
“Why?” she asked with the most aggravated tone turned up one hundred percent as she plopped down in the chair to tie her running shoes.
“You need exercise like other humans need food and water. This past week you’ve been skipping your evening run and avoiding me every time I mention sparring.”
“Not the same, dickface. I won’t die without exercise.”
Jackson walked toward the door. “No, but I might kill you if you get too bitchy, which is inevitable when you go too long without expending some of that energy.”
Jillian shut the door behind her and raced out in front of him. “For your information, I exercised yesterday while you were on your date.”
“Doing what?”
“Things … like … stretching and endurance type stuff.” Screwing the neighbor. “How was your date?”
“Fine.”
“Fine? Well you’ve seen her three times in the past week, so fine must be code for she’s boring but good in bed.”
“We haven’t had sex.”
Jillian nearly stumbled over her own feet. “You what?”
“She’s younger than me.”
“That is a surprise, still doesn’t explain anything.”
“She’s an easy eleven out of ten.”
“Yada yada …”
“And she’s … a virgin.”
Jillian grabbed onto Jackson’s arm to keep from falling over. “No way … how young is young?”
“That’s just it, she’s twenty-two and her body is …”
“Pig!”
“No, she’s not fat at all.”
She rolled her eyes and shoved him off the sidewalk.
He recovered with a grin plastered across his face. “It’s not my fault. I honestly had no intention of sleeping with her anytime soon. I was serious when I said this Jackson guy is going to take it slow. But on our second date when I leaned over the front seat to kiss her good night she attacked me. The next thing I knew she was straddling my lap and dry humping the hell out of me like a bitch in heat. I actually came in my jeans! What thirty-year-old guy gets dry humped in his car?”
Jillian’s legs couldn’t keep up. Her laughter zapped all her energy, so she bent over resting her hands on her knees. “I can’t … b-breathe.” She hackled out of control.
Jackson rested his hands on his hips and walked in circles around her. “That’s not the worst part.”
She shook her head. “No more … my sides hurt.”
“I have to say it. I mean … I don’t think this girl’s normal, but maybe they’re just bred different here in the Midwest because last night’s date could never be outdone. Apparently she’s a big Sesame Street fan so she wore this tight-fitting Big Bird shirt to the bar. She only had one glass of wine but by the time we got to her apartment she was seriously horny.”
Jillian glanced up, wiping tears from her eyes. “Big Bird makes her horny?”
Jackson grimaced. “Not exactly.” He dug his teeth into his bottom lip and looked around for unsuspecting ears. “Mr. Snuffleupagus makes her horny.”
Jillian’s brows knitted and then it hit her. “Oh my god. Your…” she motioned toward his shorts “…is Mr. Snuffleupagus?”
Jackson nodded.
She fell to her knees in the grass—laughing, crying, and hugging her stomach.
“There’s more.”
She shook her head. “No … no way.”
“You know my glasses that you love so much? Well, she wanted to give me, or Mr. Snuffleupagus, head while he wore those glasses.”
Jillian collapsed onto her side and not a single word made it past her laughter that was nearly silent because she couldn’t catch her breath.
“The chick’s messed up, right?”
“Y-you … l-l-let her?”
“She had on the tightest damn shirt I’d ever seen! And she wanted to suck my dick and it’s been a long time since I’ve had a woman’s mouth on me like that, so … yeah, I let her. I was so fucking hard by the time she asked, I think I would have let her add a wig, lipstick, and clip-on earrings to Mr. Snuffleupagus.”
“Stop! Pee … I’m going to pee my pants …”
“The worst part … I’m seeing her again tonight.”
Jillian wiped her swollen eyes and exhaled several slow breaths. “Never and I mean ever have I heard anything so flat-out hysterical. The sad part…” she fought back more giggles “…is I will never be able to do that to a man without thinking about my brother’s penis dressed up like Mr. Potato Head. You’ve completely ruined that for me.”
Jackson held out his hand and helped her off the ground. “Just as w
ell. I don’t like to think about my sister giving some dude a blow job.”
“Way to make it sound completely random, like I’m a total slut.” Jillian jogged to catch up on the run Jackson decided to resume.
“You’re not a slut.” He paused before his next statement. “Have you had any more moments with AJ?”
She pushed out in front a few steps. “Uh, well, I don’t know what your definition of moment is so—”
“Have you had sex with him?”
“Sex? With AJ? I mean we’ve done … stuff, and we sort of … yes. We did it yesterday three times in a row, just … bang, bang, bang and it was so good and the most incredible release and—”
“No, no, no, no, no! Jesus, Jillian! It was a yes or no question.”
“Are you kidding me, Mr. Snuffleupagus? You get dry hump and penis dress-up, but all I get to share is yes or no?”
“So what’s the damage?” Jackson’s voice began to sound labored.
“Bite mark on his pec.” Jillian knew the question and she refused to lie to her brother. First of all, he knew when she was lying, and second, she never wanted to lie to him. Jackson had always been her truth, a litmus test of her sanity. Luke took over that role for a while, but he wasn’t there anymore so she needed Jackson.
“Why?”
“I’m trying to figure out who I am.”
“Then start with who you’re not, which is Jessica Day. She was fucked-up. You don’t have to be. Jillian Knight can be whomever you want her to be.”
Jillian chuckled. “As long as she sells sex toys.”
“Exactly.”
The conversation died when they became too winded to talk.
“Knights.”
Jillian glanced ahead as they neared the entrance to Peaceful Woods. The familiar voice was her uniformed lover jogging toward the entrance from the opposite direction.
“Hey, AJ.” Jackson nodded.
Jillian hadn’t prepared for the awkward-next-day moment, but at that point she knew there was no way around it. She had only a few seconds to react.
“Neighbor.” Brilliant reply.
Jillian had a half dozen names for him, but neighbor wasn’t one. Maybe her subconscious was reminding her the man she’d been very intimate with was in fact her neighbor and that nothing good could come of their admittedly volatile relationship.
“So … I have a lesson in an hour. I’ll…” Jackson played his part as cool as the ninety-degree day “…see you two … uh … crazy kids later.” He continued jogging home.
Jillian and AJ were too enthralled in each other’s reaction to give Jackson’s gibberish much attention.
“I thought you jogged at night.”
She shrugged. “I do. This wasn’t a jog. It was one sibling dragging the other around the block a few times by her hair.”
AJ nodded with his usual stoic expression. Jillian’s sarcastic personality was always received with rotten tomatoes when AJ was her audience.
“I’m off work for a week.”
“Oh …” It was hard for her to process the meaning behind his statement. It could have been an offer for more sex, but that was too risky of an assumption to make without more to go on. “Well, what are your plans for your time off?”
He stepped closer until she was forced to strain her neck to look at him. “I haven’t decided yet.”
“You might as well know, I suck at beat around the bush. So where are you at with this this morning? Are you wanting to pretend that nothing happened? Are you getting ready to have the ‘it was a mistake’ speech? Or are you entertaining the idea of doing it again, in which case the answer would be no because …” Jillian hated herself for not having a good reason and for wanting to tackle him right then and there.
“Because?”
“Because … because you don’t even like me! You’re always so damn grumpy and implying that I’m a whore because I’m confident in my own skin and I sell PPDs for a living and not even by choice. And I’m trying to be happy and feel settled here, and I know you’re going to screw that up for me—”
She didn’t even realize what had happened. Her face was in his hands and his lips were pressed to hers. He tasted like mint gum while she couldn’t even remember if she’d brushed her teeth, but he didn’t seem to mind.
“I apologize for being grumpy,” he whispered over her lips.
Jillian covered his hands that were still framing her face, just to keep her balance before he literally swept her off her feet. She knew she’d never remember the words he said, but she’d never forget the way he said them. The heart never forgets skipping a beat.
She smiled. “I apologize for being too sexy for this neighborhood.”
AJ hugged her to his chest so she couldn’t see his face, but Jillian knew he was smiling. She just … knew.
*
Jillian was infuriating. She was also strong, sexy, playful, and compassionate. AJ thought of her as Wonder Woman, Judge Judy, Mother Teresa, and Ellen Degeneres molded into a wet dream. She was seriously flawed and had a fucking larger-than-life attitude. But what drew him in was her vulnerability; it was fleeting like a shooting star. It was there and gone in a blink, but he’d caught a glimpse of it and he recognized it—it was his reflection.
“You are too sexy for this neighborhood … any neighborhood, really.” He started walking toward home, chastising himself for making what was a true compliment sound like a grumpy complaint.
“But …” Jillian followed a step behind.
“But what?”
“Compliments like that usually come with a but.”
“No but, it’s just a fact.”
“Oh.”
Jillian at a loss for words wasn’t something AJ ever imagined he’d witness. The irony was her silence left him speechless too.
“Can I make you breakfast?” AJ spoke the first words that popped into his head as they neared his house. He hadn’t set out to shock her, but the wide-eyed look she gave him made it clear that’s what he had done, yet again.
“I’m a veg—”
“I know. I’ll keep my big sausage to myself. Oatmeal fine?”
She laughed. He made an attempt to smile, but it was difficult. Anger, pain, and resentment had hardened him over the years. He felt undeserving of those rare moments of pleasure and happiness. They felt stolen, as if around the corner someone was waiting with their hand out demanding he give them back.
“Oatmeal sounds perfect.” She followed him inside.
“I’m going to take a quick shower first.”
“Want some company?” Jillian offered before she gulped down the glass of water he’d handed her.
Confusion impaired his ability to find actual words, so he just stared at her. “Uh—”
“I’m kidding. Go do your thing, but hurry up because I’m starving.”
After a slow nod, he pivoted and walked toward his bathroom, hands fisted while he released the breath he’d been holding. Of course he wanted to shower with Jillian. The aching need he had to feel her body against his was almost unbearable. But whatever was going on between them had not been defined and was the anti-normal of any relationship he’d ever imagined, possibly of any relationship that had ever existed.
In a blink he was showered and back in the kitchen.
“That was fast. Were you afraid I might rob your hidden treasures?”
AJ pulled a sauce pan out of the cabinet. “No, just kill my fish. Oh, that’s right … you already did that.”
Jillian smirked. His attempt at humor was borderline pathetic, but she didn’t seem to notice.
“Where did you and Jackson move here from?”
“The East Coast,” she answered almost before he finished asking the question.
“The East Coast, huh? Why not just say North America?”
She laughed. “New York.”
“Is that where you’re originally from?”
“Yes.”
“And what brought you to Omaha?” AJ
continued as he stirred the oatmeal.
“We’ve just always dreamed of living in a more mature community but everything out east is too expensive.”
He shook his head. “I’m serious. Do your parents live in New York?”
“They died.”
AJ grimaced. “I’m sorry.”
Jillian shrugged, casting her gaze out the window. “Me too.”
“It’s a little odd that at your age you decided to relocate with your brother. Were neither of you in a serious relationship?”
“Jackson doesn’t know what a serious relationship is.”
“And you?”
Jillian’s brow set with firm lines. “You’ve met me … been with me, what do you think?”
“I think you ran out of submissives and had to move because of your reputation.”
She laughed, even though he wasn’t smiling. “Bingo!”
“How did your parents die?”
Jillian’s face drained of all color as she cleared her throat. “Car accident.”
“Jillian … I’m—”
She shook her head. “It happens. People die every day. What about you? Are you originally from here?”
AJ placed a bowl of oatmeal, maple syrup, spices, and milk in front of her. “No, I was born in Portland, but my father was in the service so we were never in one place for all that long. My father is retired now and he and my mother live in Portland again. Actually, Dodge was in the service with my father and he and Lilith were neighbors for a while until Dodge transferred a few years before he retired and moved to Omaha to be closer to their daughter.”
“Really? Funny, Dodge never mentioned that to me. Then again, he has a way of talking about a whole bunch of absolutely nothing.”
“They’re good people.”
“The best. This looks great. You’re quite the cook.”
“Oatmeal and water doesn’t qualify me as ‘quite the cook.’”
“Yeah, well you haven’t seen me cook.”
“Did your mom not cook much?”
“She was an amazing cook.” Jillian grabbed her spoon and stared at it for a moment. “Do you want to talk about last night?”
The popping sizzle of bacon AJ tossed on the griddle bought him a few extra moments of time while he gathered the courage to answer her. “Sure. You start.”