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Love Is the Drug

Page 11

by K. E. Saxon


  She was sore. She suppressed a giggle. He was sore. But they couldn’t seem to keep their hands off of each other. Everything about this adventure was new to her—and yet, every woman who’d ever loved—or at least really, really liked—must have felt the same way at one time. After their first time.

  She couldn’t help it. She looked over at him again. She was totally in his thrall—in his possession. He’d been inside her—multiple times. She was his woman now. A shiver of excitement shot up her spine. The whole thing was so primal. No one—not even Connie, who’d talked a lot about sex—had ever told her about this part—this connection that happened. Afterward. Well—maybe during, too. It was strange. And scary. But she was determined to ride the wave of it, not to fight it, as was her usual M.O.

  It was thrilling—this being able to touch him whenever she liked thing, this living out her fantasies with the gorgeous sex god next to her. She supposed, if she was going to lower her expectations for her future, she’d chosen the exact right guy to lower them with. Because, even though he didn’t love her, he’d provided for her any girl’s fantasy first time—and wasn’t that at least some compensation? Okay, maybe more than some, maybe a whole lot? Seriously, to be wanted as much as he seemed to want her—what a bang! What a boost! What a blast!

  * * *

  Gabe nearly jumped out of his skin when the phone rang as he was just slathering another huge glob of full-fat mayo on the other piece of Wonder bread. He set the taboo snack back on the plate and walked into the living room to find the cordless, but the answering machine had already picked up.

  “Hey, Jase—I tried you on your cell but I didn’t get an answer, so I thought I’d try you at this second number you left.”

  It was Adam Taylor, Jason’s college buddy. Gabe recognized the voice.

  “Did you get the annulment processing paperwork in the mail yet? My legal assistant said she’d sent it a couple of days ago. I know you want a speedy annulment, so get’em back in the mail to me A.S.A.P.”

  Gabe’s knees felt a little watery, so he sat in the nearest chair.

  “Oh—and I got to Vegas two nights ago and have been looking for that Lou Davis guy. You did say you hooked up with him at the Hard Rock, right? He’s not checked in here, and yesterday I trolled quite a few of the other hotels looking for him—but no go. Hopefully, I’ll find him today and get that sworn affidavit stating that you and Julie were wonked out of your minds when you got married. I’m still convinced that with that, the judge should annul the marriage, no problem.”

  Gabe sat forward. Wonked?—they were drunk when they got married?

  “And one more thing: Thanks for the free trip to Vegas, man! I won two grand at blackjack last night. Well, gotta go—call me when you get this.”

  The phone line disconnected and the answering machine clicked. On its smoky black display, a ‘1’ blinked big and red.

  * * *

  Julie tightened the oversized bath towel that encased her torso and then picked up her fork again and took another bite of tortellini.

  “Are you sure you don’t want some of this steak?” Jason asked.

  She glanced up, still chewing and shook her head, then swallowed. “Nope. This is enough for me.”

  He reached over and trailed his hand down her upper arm. “Even after the workout you’ve had this morning? You need more protein.”

  She rolled her eyes at him. “Oh, all right,” she said, leaning forward and opening her mouth. He filled it with a huge bite of steak, which almost made her choke, so she grabbed her napkin and covered her mouth while she chewed it. “Mmm. It’s good,” she said around the meat.

  He lifted her hand and kissed her palm, then slowly, deliberately, began sucking the tips of each one of her fingers in turn. She swallowed the half-chewed glob of steak. His eyes sparkled with mischief as he watched her reaction. Her breathing grew jagged, her clitoris tingled, and her vagina throbbed, filling with blood. When he ran his tongue along the junction between her middle and forefinger, goosebumps jumped to attention all the way up her arm, ending at her tender nipples. She shivered.

  “We’re out of condoms, but I would love to tongue fuck you until you come,” he said. And then he tugged the towel loose from her breasts and cupped the left one in his hand. Leaning forward, he opened his mouth wide over her nipple and suckled her.

  “Oh, God!” she gasped. The suction was light, but her whole being stiffened. Already. She was nearly there, already. Then she was in his arms and being transported to the bed. She’d barely had time to take a breath before he was between her thighs, tormenting her with his lips and teeth, readying her for his invasion. And then he did as he’d said, jamming his tongue deep inside her in a quick, hard, in-and-out rhythm that had her arching and twisting, moaning and begging, pushing and grating, until with one final deep jab and lick, she fractured, a hoarse cry exploding from her throat.

  He rose up on his knees and kissed his way up her body until he reached her mouth. She lifted her hands to his shoulders and pushed and rolled him onto his back. “Your turn,” she said. She hadn’t had much experience at this, but she’d had some. Hopefully, she’d do it right.

  “Man, Julie”—he craned his head up and kissed her—“we’ve got to get back to Dad”—he kissed her again, harder—“but, Jesus! I can’t say no to a BJ. It’s a weakness.”

  She cocked her head to the side, eyed him speculatively and grinned. “Really?”

  He tucked his arms behind his head and smiled until that dimple of his showed. “Yep.”

  She opened the bath towel he had around his hips, looked down and wrapped her hand around his erection. He was bigger than the other two guys she’d done this with—but, honestly, he was bigger everywhere. “Okay. Tell me if you don’t like it.”

  He laughed pretty hard at that one. “Yeah. Sure. No problem.”

  Julie scooted down his body, trailing her nipples down his chest and over his stomach as she moved, all the time lightly running her hand over his scrotum and erection. His breathing grew ragged. Finally, at her destination, she positioned one hand around his penis and the other over his scrotum, then she lowered her head, opened her mouth and took as much of him into it as she was able.

  * * *

  “AAAHHH!” Jason’s eyes closed tight then opened again. He nearly came out of his skin. “Oh, God, Julie, that feels good.” He groaned, positioning his hands on her head and lightly holding it. He dragged her hair back so he could watch what she was doing to him. Everything about her was taking him by surprise. He was scared. Scared shitless. But he couldn’t seem to keep his hands off of her. Couldn’t stop wanting to be with her—even when they weren’t fucking—although, God knew, he’d enjoyed that activity with her multiple times already. To the point where his dick was raw. A thing that hadn’t happened to him since his freshman year in college.

  When she increased her rhythm and began to moan, taking him in deeper each time, he lost all control. He lifted his hips and pushed her head down, ramming the head of his cock hard against the back of her throat. In the next instant, his cum spewed into the warm recesses of her hot, suctioning mouth.

  * * *

  A quarter hour later, Jason hugged Julie tight against his chest and tugged a little on the hair at the back of her head to get her to look up at him. “We’d better go.”

  She smiled dreamily and nodded. “Okay.” Then she lifted up slightly and ran her hand down his torso to the jagged, raised white scar on his thigh near his groin. “Angry lover’s mark?” she asked with a grin.

  Jason stiffened. “No.”

  Her face sobered and her brows came together. “Sorry,” she said and began to sit up. “I didn’t mean—”

  Jason pulled her back down onto his chest. “No—I’m sorry. I’m just not used to talking about it.”

  “You don’t have to—I shouldn’t have pried.”

  “It’s a scar from a car accident.”

  She lifted up slightly. “A car accide
nt? You were speeding?”

  He scrubbed his knuckles over the crown of her head. “Nooo, smarty pants.”

  She batted his hand away, but her expression remained intent as she continued to wait quietly for more from him. He shifted his gaze to the dark strands of hair that rested against her cheek and brushed them back with his fingers as he took a deep breath and released it on a huff. “My dad was driving. We wrecked when he had a heart attack and lost control of the car—we slammed into a light pole.”

  She tensed in his embrace.

  He returned his gaze to hers and inwardly cringed at the pain reflected in her eyes.

  Her throat muscles contracted as she swallowed. “So…that was after my sister lied about you?”

  He stroked his thumb across her cheek. “Yes,” he said gently. “We were on our way back to the office after losing our contract with Joyride.”

  “Thank God you both survived. Did Gabe have any injuries?”

  Jason shrugged. “Just a few cuts and bruises.” He glanced down at her. “The airbags,” he said in explanation.

  She nodded. “And this?” She indicated his scar with a tip of her head “How’d it happen exactly?”

  “A piece of glass.”

  “Oh.” She dropped her gaze and studied it. “Did you lose a lot of blood?”

  Blood. It was the axle on which his entire world had rotated out of his control. He gave her a peck on the nose and started to rise. “Quite a bit, yeah. Time to go.”

  * * *

  Julie blinked at Jason and sat up. It took her another second to mentally switch gears—and then she leapt to her feet and scurried into her clothes. But Jason was still light years ahead of her, because by the time she was dressed, he was standing at the door jangling his keys in one hand and jiggling the knob with the other.

  “Ready?” he barked.

  She bristled, but nodded, and he swung the door wide. She nearly vaulted across the room and out into the hall.

  Clearly, she’d stepped on a nerve.

  * * *

  Gabe sat in the overstuffed recliner after supper that evening dividing his attention between the flirtatious banter and laughter going on in the kitchen and the pink-papered news headlines on the front page of the Financial Times.

  Ever since he’d heard that message from Adam, he’d been thinking up a plan. It wasn’t his normal way to meddle to this degree—but he had to do something before his son made the biggest mistake of his life. It was clear as the simultaneous reflection in the paired green-glass towers of the old Enron Center that Julie was the perfect mate for his son—not just the perfect wife, but the perfect person for him, period. If anyone could settle his son down, give him the confidence and courage to be a father, it was Julie.

  And after the ruckus he heard coming from their bedroom the night before, he figured he knew just the means by which to force the issue.

  After taking a long look in the direction of the doorway leading into the kitchen, he set his reading glasses on the end table, folded the paper up and got to his feet. He tossed the thing onto his abandoned chair and strode toward the master bedroom. His son had come in with the paper and a gift shop bag with “Grand Hyatt” on the outside. It hadn’t taken much of a mental leap to figure out where Jason and Julie had been most of the day, nor what Jason probably had in the bag: condoms. And that's when a plan of action had finally gelled in his mind.

  Once he was in the master bathroom, it didn’t take him long to find his son’s stash.

  Six boxes? Yep, he’d made the right decision, alright.

  He took the small tube of instant glue he’d found in one of the kitchen drawers from his pocket and set it on the shelf next to the condoms.

  Okay, now all he needed was a straight pin.

  His wife had always had a sewing kit, but she’d also had a sewing room to keep all that kind of stuff in.

  Julie didn’t have a sewing room.

  But a sewing kit?

  He peered at each shelf. On the third one down, his eye was caught by a pink and gray, rectangular wicker container.

  He drew it out.

  He felt a little guilty for going through his daughter-in-law’s things without her permission—his son’s, he had no qualms about—but this was for both of their own good.

  He lifted the lid.

  Bingo.

  Sweating and darting glances toward the door, Gabe sliced the bottom end of the first box open with his pocket knife and then pulled the strip of condoms out, put six holes apiece in all of them, smoothed out the foil so that the holes didn’t show through, and carefully folded them back into their cardboard container. It took him a good ten minutes, and by that time his hands were shaking like leaves in a storm, but when he was finally done with the last box, he huffed a sigh of relief, grabbed a bar of soap off the second shelf and hurried back out of the room.

  He’d only managed a couple of steps into the hall before his son appeared. “Did you need something, Dad?” Jason asked.

  Gabe held up the soap. “Thought I’d take a quick shower—I took a walk earlier and it was hot as blazes outside—but—out of soap. Hope you don’t mind—I grabbed a bar from your bathroom.”

  “You went on a walk by yourself—in hundred degree heat!” Jason reached his side in three long strides. He gripped Gabe’s upper arm. “How far did you go? Did your cardiologist say it was okay?”

  Even though Gabe really hadn’t done any such thing—he just thought he needed an excuse for why he wanted a bar of soap—he still took offense to his son’s imperious tone. After all, he might have wanted to take a walk. “Jason, you really don’t need to worry. I’m perfectly capable of making adult decisions regarding my own health.”

  “Except your doctor told me that the angioplasty could have been avoided had you stuck to the diet and regime he’d laid out for you.”

  Gabe stepped around Jason and walked toward the door to the guest bathroom. “Well as far as I’m concerned, it’s just as much about quality of life as it is about longevity—and I don’t want to eat oats and groats for the rest of my friggin’ life, like I was some goddamned horse put out to pasture!”

  “Dad—”

  Gabe slammed the door shut and leaned against it. Some of that diatribe had been for effect, but a majority was the bald truth. He liked good food, even if it meant a shorter life. But with this last surgery, he’d come to terms with just how little time he might have to get his son happily settled first.

  * * *

  Jason strode back toward the kitchen. He’d delayed the little ‘treasure hunt’ Julie had enticed him with so that he could check on his dad. The man had been acting very peculiarly since they’d gotten back a few hours ago and Jason was worried that he might be having the onset of another heart episode without telling anyone. Just like the last time.

  Why wouldn’t his dad take better care of himself? It seemed to Jason to be just one more piece of hard evidence that Gabe Jörgensen’s feelings toward him had changed since learning that Jason wasn’t his real son. Otherwise, wouldn’t he want to do whatever he had to do in order to stay in this world and be with Jason?

  Jason’s gut knotted into a cold, hard fist.

  He needed a distraction—and he knew just where to get it. He rushed through the doorway of the kitchen and said, “He’s taking a shower.” Then he unzipped his pants and took a condom out of his pocket. “Bend over the stove—we have time for a quickie.”

  Julie grinned at him. Shaking her head, she slid several feet away, saying “No way. At least not until you find the prize—remember our agreement?”

  It surprised him, the power her smile had on him. The fist in his gut unfurled. He felt good now. Real good. “Yeah. But that’s the main course—this would only be a snack.”

  She shook her head again. “Nope—you promised to play my family’s cleanup game with me first and I’m holding you to it.”

  Jason released a loud huff and jammed the condom back in his pocket. “Oh, a
ll right,” he said, zipping up his pants, “but it’s just as much your loss as mine, little lady. I can guaran-DAMN-tee you that.”

  Julie’s cheeks flushed with color as she giggled, shrugged, and moved back to the sink. “The list is on the island—you can choose any one of the items to do first,” she said over her shoulder. “We stop cleaning when you find the prize.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  “Then I’m going to have one super-clean kitchen!”

  Jason growled and shook his head as he strode to the island and picked up the piece of paper. Fuck! There were at least twenty things on this list! She was out of her mind if she thought he was going to do all this stuff. Out. Of. Her. Mind.

  He looked up and watched her for a minute. Watched the swing and sway of her hips as she hummed softly, watched the graceful arc of her tanned arm as she placed a dish in the drainer. But, damn, she was just so effin’ sexy. And tasty as hell.

  And if he wanted any of that tonight, he’d best find that damned treasure. PDQ.

  He took another quick glance down at the list. Where would she have hidden it?

  Probably the last place most people would think—or want—to look. Like the trash.

  His lip curled as he stared at the gooey-topped mess in the can, then he flicked his gaze back to Julie and that sweet little derrière.

  Okay. Trash it is.

  * * *

  Thirty minutes later, Julie stored the remaining two pieces of angel food cake in a plastic container. “C’mon Jason—you still haven’t found the prize?” She peeked over her shoulder and saw him rummaging around in the pantry. “You’re cold—Arctic cold.” When he growled under his breath, grabbed the broom and dust pan, and looked over at her, she gave him the most obnoxious smart-ass grin she could muster.

  He returned it with an irritated one of his own and narrowed his eyes at her. “Hey, I never said I was an ace detective, lady.” With the broom and dustpan in one hand and the other on his hip, he grumbled, “Tell me again why you thought this was fun as a kid?”

  Julie put her hand to her mouth and giggled before she answered, “I guess because I was a lot better at it than you!” She sobered and shrugged one shoulder. “Also, it was nice having my dad all to myself for awhile.”

 

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