Now and Forever--Let's Make Love

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Now and Forever--Let's Make Love Page 19

by Joan Elizabeth Lloyd


  “That’s wonderful,” Lisa said. “The best I ever did was two point five.”

  “I’m sure you did just fine,” Adam said, desperately wanting to continue the conversation but unable to think of anything more to say. He watched Lisa shift her position, revealing more of the soft skin on the inside of her thigh.

  “Any girlfriends?” Lisa asked.

  “A few.” But no one like you, he wanted to say.

  “Umm, I’ll bet. A gorgeous guy like you must have dozens. I’ll bet your Saturday nights are works of art.”

  Works of art indeed, Adam thought. If she only knew that his Saturday nights usually consisted of little more than frustration. A sexual flop, that’s what he was.

  “Adam?” Lisa said after a long silence. “Come here.” She tapped the chair next to her.

  Adam put his tennis racket down, crossed the floral border between the two back lawns, and sat in the chair she had indicated.

  “Tell me. Aren’t those college girls good enough for you? Don’t they make you happy?” She placed her warm palm on his bare thigh. “Don’t they give you what you want?” Ever so slowly, she moved her hand higher up his thigh.

  Adam stared at the hand, and the contrast between her long red nails and the light tan of his skin. “S-s-sometimes,” he stammered.

  “But not always?” The hand moved down again, the fingernails brushing the inside of his thigh.

  “Not always,” he managed to say.

  The hand moved upward again, closer to the painful erection he was trying unsuccessfully to hide. “Sometimes you want something more, right? Someone more experienced, a woman who can give you all that you’re entitled to.”

  “Sometimes.”

  “You know, of course, that you’re a very attractive boy. No, make that man now.” The hand squeezed his upper thigh. “Oh yes, definitely a man now.” Her index finger brushed his hard penis. “A man whom I’ve been watching for years.”

  “Watching?” Adam could barely breathe.

  ldquo;Oh yes. I’ve been watching you grow and mature. And I’ve been wondering about you, too. Whether you were happy. Whether you were learning all the things they teach at college. Whether you were engaging in the right extracurricular activities.” The hand squeezed and her knuckle massaged his shaft. “There’s so much to learn.”

  He swallowed again. “Yes, there is.”

  “I can help you if there are any courses you’re having trouble with.” Somehow, she maneuvered his zipper down about an inch and her finger insinuated its way inside. Now she was rubbing his cock through only the soft fabric of his undershorts. “We could go inside and study together right now, if you like. Everyone’s away for the weekend and we would have no distractions from our lessons.”

  “We could do that, I guess.”

  She withdrew her finger, then took his hand. She stood and pulled him up beside her. “So tall. Have I told you I like tall men?”

  Adam took her hand and they walked through the back door and into the darkened playroom.

  The Secret Formula

  Joel knew that the secret of his company’s newly developed high-powered explosive was finally in good hands. So far, three people were dead and one was in the hospital in a coma as a result of trying to protect the information from those who would misuse it. He had suspected several times that he was being followed, but now, in his hotel room near the airport, he felt relatively safe. He had stashed the folder with the complex formulas in a carefully selected place. Just before flight time, he would retrieve it. And in less than a day, it would be safely at the lab.

  He heard the knock at the door and reached for his handgun. “Yes?” he called, the gun ready should he need it.

  “The company sent me.” The voice was soft and melodious—a woman in her twenties, he suspected. No trace of an accent, but she had to be up to no good. His company had told him nothing about sending anyone for him.

  “What company?’ he called.

  “Listen,” the voice said, “I don’t want to yell all this through the door. Who knows who might be listening?”

  Joel made his way across the room and looked through the peephole. The woman was a knockout: long red hair that curled over her bosom, green eyes, and clear white skin. She held up a picture ID card so he could see it through the tiny opening. It looked genuine, but he knew it couldn’t be. A very good forgery maybe. He knew everyone at the company, but he didn’t know her. “The bad guys must know me well,” he muttered, a reluctant smile spreading across his face. “God, I love that colleen look.” He reached for the door-knob and turned it.

  “You certainly took your time,” the woman said, stalking into the room on long, shapely legs. Her skirt was short and tight, her blouse loose and sexy.

  As Joel closed the door, he could feel his body react. He really didn’t have time for this. “Okay, you’re in,” he snapped. “What do you want?”

  “My name’s Maureen and I’m supposed to go to the States with you.” She pulled a plane ticket from her purse and showed it to Joel.

  The ticket was for the same flight, and, if he remembered his seat assignment correctly, she would be sitting next to him. “Why?”

  “The company thought you’d be less conspicuous if we traveled as a tourist couple returning from our wedding trip.”

  “Really?” he said, his eyebrow raised in disbelief.

  “Really.” She looked at his expression, then continued. “Look, this wasn’t my idea. I just joined this ridiculous company three weeks ago and suddenly they shove a ticket in my face and give me this cock-and-bull story. I have no idea who the hell you are, or why you’re here, for that matter.”

  “Really,” he said again. “Three weeks. That’s a good story. It covers why I don’t know you.” He lifted one bright red lock of hair from her chest and rubbed it between his fingers. “And I wouldn’t have forgotten you. You can be sure of that.”

  He watched Maureen tremble. “Look, I’m new at this and I want this job very badly,” she said, her voice quavering as Joel’s knuckles grazed her breast. “But I don’t think …”

  “You don’t think what?” He grinned and released her hair.

  She took a quavering breath. “Let’s just try to make the best of this till flight time.” She crossed the room and sat on the only chair in the small room.

  “Sure,” Joel said, settling on the bed opposite her, “we can do that. But the flight’s not until tomorrow, and we have all of tonight to kill.” His eyes roamed her body as she shifted position. He watched her take another deep breath, which forced her breasts against the soft fabric of her blouse. “Anyway, isn’t that your job?”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I don’t believe a word of that ridiculous story you just handed me. I think you want some information from me and you’ll do anything to get it.”

  She gave him a “who me?” look and said, “That’s crazy.”

  “Whether it is or not, we have to spend the night together in this room while you try to convince me that you work for the company, or whatever your assignment is. I won’t tell you anything, but you can try.” He reached out and stroked her breast with the palm of his hand. “You can use any means you like.”

  Suddenly, Maureen laughed. “You’re just like they said you’d be, a flirt and a lecher. You really think we’ll spend the night in your bed.”

  Joel cocked his head to one side and again looked Maureen over. Instead of replying, he grinned, a grin that had usually gotten him anything he wanted.

  “Well,” Maureen said, crossing her long legs, “we’ll see, won’t we?”

  The Returning Hero

  Annie hadn’t seen Evan Chambers since high school. He had been the toughest kid in school, and due to a few scrapes with the law, he had been given the option of joining the military after graduation or going to jail. The Monday after commencement, he had swaggered through town in his fatigues, saying goodbye to all his friends. She had watched from the
top of the library steps.

  Now, almost twenty years later, Evan was back, a colonel in the army and a real hero. During a training exercise, something had gone wrong with a test missile, and it was Evan’s quick thinking that saved several men from death. There had been long articles about his heroics week after week in the local paper and, hungering for more details, she had read every one several times.

  Annie now sat in the local diner, nibbling at her chicken potpie, gazing at Evan’s picture on the front page of the local paper. LOCAL HERO MAKES GOOD AND RETURNS TO BIRTHPLACE. She gazed at the picture. He looked so handsome in his uniform, silver at his temples. Suddenly, a ripple went through the crowd. She looked up, and there he was, tall, clean-shaven. It was as though she had just seen him a few days before. He was just as gorgeous as she had thought he was in their senior year, but different—much more mature.

  “Evan Chambers,” a booming voice said, “good to see you back.”

  “Good to be back, Mr. Willoughby.”

  “How long has it been?”

  “Almost twenty years.”

  “Twenty years,” Mr. Willoughby mumbled. Then the man lifted his three-hundred-pound frame from a small chair and walked over to Evan. “Are you back to stay or just passing through?” He draped his arm around the uniformed man’s shoulders.

  “I’m not really sure yet,” Evan said, his voice deep and exciting. “I’m thinking of retiring from the military, but I’m not sure what I want to do yet.”

  Annie felt her heart pound in her chest. Evan was looking around the small diner, trying to find a place to sit, and attempting to move out from under Mr. Willoughby’s beefy arm. Since it was the height of the dinner hour, Annie knew that there were no empty tables.

  “Full up, isn’t it?” Mr. Willoughby said. “Well, boy, why don’t you join the wife and me?”

  “Just a moment,” Evan said, crossing the room and heading toward Annie’s table, his back to the Willoughbys. He placed the palms of his hands on her table and leaned toward her. Under his breath, he said, “I don’t think we’ve met, but save me. I can’t stand that loud-mouth. Let me sit with you. Please.”

  Annie smiled. She could refuse him nothing. “Of course, Evan. Join me if you like.”

  Without letting anyone else overhear, he whispered, “What’s your name?”

  “Annie.”

  “Hey, Mr. Willoughby, I’m sure you’ll understand if I eat with Annie.”

  “Sure, Colonel,” Mr. Willoughby boomed. “I’d eat with a lovely thing like that if I could, too. Just be nice to her, you heartbreaker. She’s only been divorced for two years.”

  “Harvey,” Mrs. Willoughby yelled. “Leave those two alone and sit back down and feed your face.”

  “Yes, Celia.”

  As Mr. Willoughby returned to his table, Evan leaned forward. “Gee, thanks, Annie.”

  His grin was infectious, and Annie found herself smiling, too. “It’s nothing. It’s so good to see you back, and a colonel at that.”

  “You know, you look familiar. Do we know each other?”

  “Have I changed that much? I’m Annie Flynn. It was Annie McGovern. From high school. We were in Mr. Cabbott’s homeroom together, senior year.” Annie knew from his gaze that he thought she had changed a lot—for the better, she hoped.

  Evan’s eyes widened as he gazed at the woman who sat across from him. “Annie McGovern? Long straight hair and braces?”

  “Yup. That was me.” She was suddenly glad she had worn her best teal blue dress. She played with her fork as he looked her over, obviously liking what he saw. “You’ve changed, too.”

  The waitress arrived at the table. “Welcome back, Colonel Chambers.”

  “Thanks. I’d just like what she’s having,” he said, motioning toward Annie’s potpie.

  “Coming up,” the waitress said.

  Evan’s appreciative gaze returned to the woman across the table. “Annie McGovern. You’re divorced, Mr. Willoughby said. I can’t believe someone let you get away. Wow. Listen, let’s finish dinner and go out dancing. We can catch up on old times and such. Does the old Melrose Inn still have dancing on Saturday nights?”

  As he spoke, his knee brushed hers beneath the table. “I really should get home,” Annie said.

  Evan reached across the table and took her hand. “Please. I’ve just gotten here, and I’d like to sit with you so we can get to know each other much better.” As he stared directly into Annie’s eyes, she felt heat building in her belly.

  “Well, the inn does still have music.”

  He winked, the danger obvious in the way he rubbed her knee with his. Clearly, there was still some of the bad boy left in him. “Good. I’d really like to be with you.”

  Unable or unwilling to resist, Annie whispered, “Yes.”

  The First Visit

  Kevin walked through the ordinary-looking doors of the four-story brownstone and looked around. He was astonished. It looked like an ordinary hallway, with a small mahogany table holding a crystal vase filled with fresh flowers. He walked forward, into what he assumed was the living room. The tremendous room was tastefully decorated in an eclectic mélange of overstuffed chairs, side tables, standing lamps, and two cream-colored leather sofas. Several couples and a few individual women sat talking quietly, drinks in hand.

  “Good evening,” a voice said from behind him.

  Kevin turned and gazed at the beautifully dressed woman who stood there, her right hand extended toward him. The woman was a knockout: tall, slender, and perfectly made-up, with huge brown eyes and carefully cut medium brown hair that fell to just below the line of her jaw. She was dressed in a soft wool suit in a muted raspberry, with a gray silk blouse beneath. “Good evening,” he said when he realized he’d been staring. He took her hand and marveled at her strong, sure grip.

  “You must be Kevin,” she said. “I’m Heather, and I’m not what you expected, am I?”

  Kevin tried not to be rude, but he found himself tongue-tied, unable to respond at all.

  “It’s all right,” Heather said. “I’m not what anyone expects. I gather you’re from California?”

  “Yes,” Kevin managed to mumble.

  “Well, Mark Cantor recommended you without reservation, and any friend of Mark’s is, of course, a friend of mine. Welcome.”

  “Thank you,” Kevin said softly. He had no clue as to what to do or say next.

  “You know what we do here. We’re kind of a dating service. Cantor Enterprises has a standing account with us, so there’s no problem on that score. We’re having a sort of party tonight. Would you like a drink?”

  “Sure. Gin and tonic?”

  “Right away.” The woman walked toward one corner of the large room, where a white-jacketed man was making drinks.

  Kevin tried to keep his jaw from hanging open. When Mark had suggested that he take a night off from the meetings they had been attending all week, Kevin had readily agreed. It had taken more convincing, however, before he agreed to visit what Mark had described as “the most amazing escort service in New York.”

  Mark had continued, “It has to be seen to be believed, that I can assure you.”

  Kevin had finally been convinced, but he hadn’t expected anything like this.

  “You expected something like the Chicken Ranch,” Heather said, returning from the bar with Kevin’s drink. “From Best Little Whorehouse.”

  Kevin looked at her ruefully. “I guess I did,” he said.

  “We’re not like that at all,” Heather said, leading Kevin to one of the leather sofas. “We’re here to fill a need that many lonely men from out of town have. We have women of all kinds to suit all interests. You can take one of them out to dinner and see what develops, or you can sit here and talk to several women before you decide. You can go upstairs to one of our suites of rooms for however long you like, or you can leave and come back another time. You can even entertain several women, if that’s your interest, or one or more men. We’re v
ery low-key, very friendly, and very accommodating.”

  Heather discussed the house rules about condoms and explained that many of the girls had a specialty. “Is there any fantasy you’ve always had but never had a chance to explore?”

  Kevin felt Heather’s hand rest on his knee. His mind raced. Fantasy? There were so many things he had read about in magazines. He looked around the room at the gorgeous women, any one of whom was his for the asking.

  “Well,” he said, “there is one thing I’d like.”

  AGELESS FANTASIES

  Get out your bookmark, because here are the last three ageless fantasies.

  MELISSA’S FANTASY

  It had been a long, hard day at the office, and Melissa was glad it was over. All day, the air conditioning in the building had been switching on and off, mostly off, and by late afternoon, her office was like a sauna. She couldn’t wait to get home and strip off her hot, sweaty clothes. God, I’d strip naked right here if I thought I could get away with it, she thought as she stood waiting for the elevator.

  Three other people stood at the closed elevator doors, all looking as rumpled as she knew she did. As she glanced to her left, she saw the cute new guy from Accounting. He had black hair and blue eyes and was tall and well built. “Terrible day,” she said to him.

  “Oh yeah,” he said. “I thought I’d melt.”

  “I’m Melissa. From Shipping.”

  “Doug.” He looked at his watch, then at the elevator indicator, having already dismissed her.

  Melissa sighed as the elevator doors slid open and she entered. As the express elevator dropped from the twenty-fourth floor, she turned and wiggled into the small amount of space between Doug and the closed doors. She could feel his briefcase pressing against the backs of her thighs. She closed her eyes.

  Suddenly, halfway between 21 and 20, there was a clunking sound and a bump. Then the lights went out and everything stopped.

  “Hey, what’s this?” a man’s gravelly voice said.

 

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