by Jo Leigh
But right now she was trying to figure out how to make Skype and her laptop work together, which was using up all her grooming time. She’d done some things this morning, like iron her hair and pluck her eyebrows, but for this liaison? She wanted to go bold. Not Fifty Shades bold. Just smoky-eyed makeup and matching-underwear bold...but which underwear?
The black lace? The v-tini with the longline push-up? Or should she switch it up and wear the thigh-high stockings she’d bought for a costume... No. There was the peach-colored bra that made her boobs look bigger. But she’d be taking it off, so the illusion would end right there. And he’d already seen her naked so what the hell was wrong with her?
She did the deep-breathing thing that was supposed to instantly relax her, but it didn’t work for beans. So she opened a bottle of Moscato and had a pull before she poured it into a glass.
She had enough time to do her makeup and fix Skype, or do her makeup and change but not fix the problem. It was like a nightmarish game of date/screw/marry. Skype first. Makeup next. Underwear...
Oh, hell.
She was supposed to call it lingerie.
* * *
THE THING RICK couldn’t help noticing as he fixed the sheets on his bed at 8:30 p.m. was that his extreme level of excitement could only be attributed to one of two things: his abstinence since Boston, or the Skype sex that was supposed to happen in thirty minutes.
But it was probably both. Definitely both.
It felt odd, though. His feverish anticipation reminded him of earlier days. He certainly wasn’t a kid anymore, or even a horny college student. And while there was no question he liked sex—more than liked it—he hadn’t been a big fan of phone sex or any of its offshoots.
Until tonight.
Now that the sheets were nice and tucked instead of just thrown on the bed, he checked the room. Unopened moving boxes lined the right wall, which was fine. But not his coffee mug from this morning, his pants draped over the chair, or the kettlebell in the corner.
There were no pictures on the walls, nothing that said this was his bedroom, but Jenna probably didn’t care. He wouldn’t give a damn what her place looked like. Still, women noticed stuff. Thankfully, the fact that he’d just moved in should excuse him. This weekend, though, rather than working, he would get every box unpacked, everything put away and all the boxes broken down. No excuses.
It was still too early to call Jenna. Time to get a drink to leave on the nightstand. He wouldn’t need anything else but his hand, so should he strip now? Be in bed when he called? Naked?
Yes. Naked. In bed. Under the covers. Definitely.
He stripped very quickly for a man wearing Doc Martens. But just as he dumped all his clothes in the closet and out of view from the newly installed Samsung, he felt a different kind of rush. Adrenaline made his pulse pound and when he got under the covers he spent so much time adjusting his pillows that the next time he checked, it was a couple of minutes to nine.
He got Skype going in two shakes. Luckily, his new TV came Skype-equipped, complete with a built-in camera above the big screen. He knew Jenna had had to download the program and that he would be her first encounter.
Suddenly, she was there. At least her midsection was. Covered by black material with bright flowers on it.
She stepped back and soon enough he saw her from her knees up. If he’d known this was going to happen, he’d have paid twice the exorbitant price for his huge TV because she looked amazing. The wide angle showed off her legs, especially when she walked back far enough that he could see her high heels.
She tilted her head. “You’re undressed.”
His gut clenched so tight it took a second to say “Yeah. I thought we were going to...”
She blushed. He watched the pink fill her cheeks bigger than life. He also saw that she was wearing black fuck-me heels, and that did a whole other number on his body, mostly south of the waist. “You wear those shoes to teach in?” he asked.
She looked at him as if he was crazy. “Are you nuts? I wouldn’t last past first period.”
“It wouldn’t matter what you wore. But damn, I wouldn’t want to be a boy in your classroom.”
“Why not? I have a lot of male students who enjoy my classes.”
“Bet they all walk out of the room with their books in front of their flies.”
“Actually, I teach mostly eleven-and twelve-year-olds. They’re not at the hot-for-teacher stage yet.”
“Uh, yeah, they are. Trust me.” He couldn’t help smiling at what he was watching, but he didn’t want to say anything to make her self-conscious. The laptop was clearly at the foot of her bed, and she wasn’t using a separate camera. But she obviously didn’t know the range of the camera or she’d never have reached under her kimono to move some part of something—he assumed it was underwear.
Well, great, now he was already half-hard. Maybe more.
She smiled at him. “Well, thanks for the implied compliment and the extra worry that my students could be... I’m never wearing anything but oversize mom jeans and sweatshirts again.”
Rick laughed. “Sorry. I’m exaggerating because I think you’re amazingly hot.”
“I’m choosing to believe you,” she said, sounding a little nervous. “About exaggerating and boys that age...”
He had to step things up before they chickened out. “Okay, I can’t stand the suspense. What’s under that robe of yours?”
“It’s a kimono, but that doesn’t matter, I guess. Okay, well...” She didn’t move for a minute. Just tilted her head to the side again, but this time she put her hands on her hips. “This is weird.”
“What, me wanting to see you in what I imagine is sexy lingerie? Or me already being naked?”
“Both. Because I know you’ve got nothing on under those covers. And that you’re already, um—” she pointed toward the general vicinity of his penis “—participating.”
He looked down and, yes, the tenting was really obvious.
“And, I forgot, this is your new bedroom. Congratulations!”
He laughed. “Thanks.”
“What?”
He let out a deep breath. “You know we don’t have to do this. It’s just for fun. So...”
She dropped her kimono.
He lost his ability to speak.
She wore a bra that had some kind of gold hardware between her uplifted breasts. He’d give anything to be the one who took it off her. Anything.
Then there were her panties. That same lace decorated the peach material above her silk-covered V. There were straps on the sides, too, so maybe it wasn’t a thong?
Had to be a thong.
Please, God, he thought. Let it be a thong.
Add the high heels?
He’d never once come without some kind of stimulation, but he might just blow if she turned around.
Forcing himself to move his gaze up, past her bra, he saw that she’d just let her hair down, and it fell perfectly over her shoulders. The blush on her cheeks matched her bra. The way she was nibbling on her bottom lip was the last straw.
His tent was now so hard that the head was touching his lower stomach. If he didn’t give it a hand soon, he couldn’t guarantee his sanity. “You’re gorgeous,” he said, knowing his whisper would get to her. “I haven’t seen anything this beautiful since you were naked in my bed.”
“Oh,” she said, but it was more of a relieved sigh than a word. “I miss that bedroom.”
“Me, too. It’s hell having to paint the walls every time my mood changes.”
* * *
JENNA LAUGHED, LETTING go of all the nerves that she’d been holding so tightly. There wasn’t any reason to be nervous, not with Rick. He’d seen her sad and miserable, sobbing until her face was red and puffy. But he’d also seen her happy and laughin
g so hard she couldn’t stop. Mostly because he’d been the one to make her laugh when she’d thought her life was over.
“I was hoping—” Rick’s cell phone rang and scowling at it across the room didn’t make it stop. “I forgot to turn it off,” he said. “No way I’m taking a call. Even if the warning sirens come on.”
When he threw his covers off to get up, she moved closer to her laptop screen for a quick peek at his very sizable erection before hurrying back to the bed. Maybe she should move the laptop? Bring it closer to the middle of the... No. She needed all the distance she could get.
“Wait!”
She spun around to face him, unsure whether he was telling her to wait or talking to the person on the phone. Then it rang again, so...
But then she caught on to what Rick was doing and threw her head back with a laugh that would have made her boobs jiggle if they weren’t so tightly packed.
He had a pillow held over his penis as he made his way to stop the calls.
“What are you doing?” she said when she could speak again. “I’ve seen you naked, you absolute nutcase. What, did you get a Prince Albert since Boston? A lurid tattoo? Oh, maybe you shaved.” She stopped. “Did you shave?”
He wasn’t even in sight anymore, and for all she knew he was in some other room. The ringing had come to an end, so where was he?
“Rick, you know I’m teasing, right?”
He stepped into the frame of her poor little laptop. If a man ever deserved to be on an IMAX screen, it was Rick. He didn’t say anything about the teasing, just headed back to his bed, the pillow gripped in his left hand.
“Hey, slow down,” she said. “Where’s the fire?”
“What? You want me to give you a show?”
“Uh, well, yeah.” She crossed her arms and waited. “Extra points if you come at me like you’re going to do something unspeakably naughty.”
At first, all she noticed was his smile. She’d been joking, but the game evidently had changed because she went all over goose bumps and anticipation.
His cock, which hadn’t remained in the upright position, was once again rising to the occasion. When he got to the head of his bed, he turned toward his camera and took himself in his hand. She’d never thought much about penis esthetics, but his was perfect. Not too big to hurt, thick where it should be, and oh, God, he was stroking himself very slowly.
By the time she remembered to look up, they were both breathing hard. He didn’t get under the covers again, or, for that matter, in the bed. He just stared through any coquettish teasing right down to the desire that had plagued her since they’d parted.
“Your turn,” he said. “But you have to repeat the whole thing. Quid pro quo.”
“Uh...no.”
“Uh...yes.” Rick smiled. “Come on, gorgeous. It’s a thong, isn’t it? What you’re wearing. I doubt any woman wears a thong for any other reason than to be seen wearing a thong.”
“For heaven’s sake. Observable panty lines?” she said. “No front wedgies? Comfort? Feeling sexier? Should I go on?”
“No. Not unless you’re walking toward your screen very slowly. I stopped caring about why you were wearing them a while ago.”
She sighed. “Fine. Wait. How big is your laptop?”
“Seventeen inches.”
The way he looked at her, as if he’d never lied in his life, told her he was hiding something. “Are you watching me on that laptop?”
He hesitated. So that was a no.
“Oh, my God, you’re looking at me on your television. Which I know is huge.”
“Yes, I am. I was going to teach you how to hook up your laptop to your TV, but I ran out of time with the moving and stuff.”
“Hmm. Most people would have their big TV in the living room. But you aren’t most people. You would want to see the weather report bigger than big and as clearly as possible. Which means you want to see my naked behind on your, what, sixty-inch, 3-D, supersonic Smart TV from the future?”
He laughed. “It’s not that big. Or clear. But you’re very astute. That really is why I have big, very high-def TVs in three rooms.”
“To see my behind?”
“Now it is. It used to be about weather, and the channel that runs from the lab, and I do not want to talk about my job.”
“Oh, come on. Not even you can expect me to willfully show my butt on a huge screen.”
“Well, how big is yours?”
“Seventeen inches.”
“Well, you need a bigger screen. Jeez. That’s like seeing my...me as if I’d just gotten out of a cold shower.”
She laughed, really laughed. And then he was laughing, too. When she sat on the bed, honestly not giving a damn about how it made her tummy look, the laughs softened and so did the mood. “I miss you,” she said.
He nodded. “It isn’t so bad when it’s just your voice,” he said. “But seeing you? All I can think about is how much I want to touch you. Every inch. I don’t need a show. I need you. In person. In my arms.”
She sighed, understanding completely. They’d agreed on a weekend to meet but two weeks seemed so far away. “Chicago is just around the corner.”
“Definitely not soon enough. But, and I don’t mean to be rude, you’re still wearing a lot of things. Any chance you’d show me how you take off that very pretty bra of yours?
Blushing wildly, she almost said no. But it was Rick, and he was holding little Rick, so she could damn well share something of hers. She thought about being flirty about it, but quickly realized it could be flirty or sexy, not both. She unclasped the front hook and flashed him like a stripper. Just wham, bam, here they are, boys.
He liked it. Words weren’t needed. The flush on his chest, the pearls of pre-come on his penis. His whole body stiffened into the very picture of want. It was...thrilling. She knew right then she had to go all in.
All in.
She turned around, put her thumbs under the straps on the sides of her panties and pulled them down to the floor, not bending her knees at all.
His groan was pretty damn spectacular. She rose slowly, thanking her years of yoga for the flexibility, and then turned her head toward him. “How’s that, sweetie?”
“If you don’t get started pretty quickly, this is going to be embarrassing.”
“No, it’s fine. It’s good.” She turned her whole body this time, mesmerized by how he was pumping his penis with his right hand and doing a little ball massage with the left.
She found it amazingly sexy. “Come for me?” she asked.
“No. You first,” he said, but the words were strangled. He must have been very close.
“Uh-uh. Nope. I want to see it. You.” She touched her breasts and then pulled at her nipples.
“Shit,” he said, but in a good way, because he came.
It made her blush, but it was also very hot, and looking at his face like this...it was more intimate than she ever could have imagined.
She ended up slipping into bed. Arranging the pillows so she could sit up and see her little screen Rick, she wasn’t surprised that he was off-camera for a bit. When he came back she said, “Do you mind terribly if I don’t do the sexy stuff this time?”
“No. I don’t mind.” When he got into his bed, it was as close to being with him as they’d ever been. “I vote for leaving our options open.”
“Right. We’ll just carry on, as usual.”
“But maybe once,” he said, “before we say good-night, you’ll let the covers drop to your lap?”
She smiled at him, and felt something shift in her heart. “I think we can work something out.”
14
LOGAN INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT was chock-full of business people trying to get home for the weekend and, for an ordinary Friday, a surprisin
g number of families traveling with children. Jenna switched her carry-on to her other hand just as she spotted the Legal C Bar. Good. She needed a drink. The noisy kids didn’t help, but the real reason she was looking for a nice glass of wine had everything to do with the weather.
Not in Boston. Things there were fine. But that wasn’t true for the good people of northeast South Dakota. They were facing an unusually strong group of storms. Storms that, according to the National Weather Service, could and would turn into tornadoes. The state had a lot of them, but mostly they were small, and mostly, no one got hurt.
But this storm system was doing strange things. Jenna knew all this because now that she understood more about extreme weather, she was able to guess the times when she wouldn’t hear from Rick. Sometimes not for days. Except for the quick texts telling her he was out chasing storms or too busy messing with the data to take breaks, let alone go home.
There was a seat open at the bar, and she ordered a Pinot Gris. Her flight wasn’t due to take off for over an hour. She probably shouldn’t have gotten to the airport so early, but she was too nervous.
She and Rick were supposed to meet in Chicago in a few hours. She understood he might have to cancel at the last minute. She hoped with every ounce of her body and soul that he wouldn’t. God, how she wanted to see him. On the flat screen in the corner of the bar was a weather map. Her heart thumped as the news showed the destruction of homes and farms in South Dakota. The tornado was the first category-four they’d had in years.
Jenna sighed. She felt awful for all the poor people who’d been affected. And she was willing to admit that she felt awful for her and Rick, too. She’d only allow herself one glass of wine. It was pretty likely she’d be driving back home tonight.
* * *
RICK WENT TO the men’s room to look at his texts. He’d known they were from Jenna. And he’d also known she’d tell him to take care of business. That they’d reschedule if need be.
Damn it, he didn’t want to reschedule. Yes, he was taking more days off this year. But since he’d only taken three vacation days in the previous four years, he had no qualms about getting away for a weekend.