Do Not Disturb

by Lisa Ballenger

  Snatching the newspaper from the table, she folded it to the movie listings, shoved it in her purse and strolled toward Brett.

  Funny, when you're young enough to develop relationships without baggage, you don't have enough experience to know what to do. And then when you're old enough to do what you want, you have too many other people and responsibilities to devote the time needed to develop the relationship.

  She touched his arm. "We'd better go."

  Ten minutes later, Brett steered out of her neighborhood and onto the main highway.

  "What movie do you want to see?" He placed a hand on her neck, rubbing it gently.

  "I don't care, what about you?"

  She didn't want to see any movie.

  "What time do the movies start?"

  "Seven-thirty and eight."

  She wanted to make love to Brett.

  "What time did you tell your parents we'd be back?"

  "Ten-thirty or eleven."

  "Hmmmm." His hand slipped down to her wrist. Dragging her arm across the seat, he rested her hand, palm down on the top of his thigh. He moved it in circular motions, massaging his leg.

  A gasp escaped from her mouth. The heat from his body radiated through his cotton trouser leg, his muscles shifting as he pressed and released the accelerator.

  She wanted to make love soon.

  "My mother offered to let the girls spend the night sometime so we could spend more time together."

  His head snapped to the right. "She did?"

  Nodding, she tried to remember what that exact spot on his leg looked like naked.

  "Did I ever tell you how much I like your mother?"

  "She told me how much she and dad like you."

  "Well how about that?" Brett laughed. "I'm going to have give her a big hug when we get back tonight." He moved her hand up his leg until it rested only an inch or so from...

  "When are we going to take her up on the offer?"

  "I...I don't know," she whispered.

  Suddenly Brett moved her hand into his lap. His very hard lap.

  "So what movie do you want to see?"

  Quit talking about the movie.

  Slowly, she ran her fingers up and down the bulge under her fingers.

  "Tell me, Allison,” he said through a strained voice. “What do you want to do?"

  The tension grew in her lower body, intensifying with each brush across Brett's erection.

  "Please, Allison."

  "I want to go to your house."

  He pressed her hand down harder as the car sped up. Within five minutes he parked in his driveway.

  The driver's door flew open and Allison jumped out of her side of the car before he raced around the front. He towed her up the walk. At the door, he cupped her face with both hands and captured her mouth in a deep kiss.

  "I really want you, Allison."

  "Open the door, Brett."

  As the door slammed shut, he shoved her against the entry wall, grinding his body into hers. The intensity of his need propelled her passion and she thrust her hips upward.

  "This way." Holding her close, he edged her around the wall and into the empty living room. He knelt down on the carpet, dragging her with him, then tumbled with her until she lay flat, him over her chest.

  "Tell me if I'm too rough," he said, his voice raspy.

  He crushed his mouth into hers while unbuttoning her blouse.

  She reached for his shirt, tugging at it. Sitting up, he jerked it over his head and threw it to the side, then raised her up into a sitting position.

  Kissing her, he shoved her blouse off her shoulders, then unhooked her bra. He lay her back down on the rug and knelt beside her, running a hand down her chest while gazing at her body.

  Leaning back down, he kissed her neck, the smooth area above her breast, then greedily captured her nipple in his mouth.

  She reached for him, but he pulled back. He unzipped her slacks and drew them off quickly. He kissed her stomach and then moved to her thighs.

  She began to tremble at his rapid movements, him keeping her off balance anticipating his next stop.

  He kissed the edge of her panties where they rested on her thigh, caught them in his teeth, then yanked them down her body.

  She reached for him again, but his head had snaked down her legs, panties in his mouth, to her ankles.

  She was naked and he still was half-dressed.

  As his tongue worked its way back up her legs, she reached another time.

  “No. Not yet.” He gently held her wrists at her side.

  “But I want to see you. Touch you.”

  He hesitated.

  “Please.”

  He sat back and peeled off his clothes. “Only if you keep your hands off certain parts,” he warned.

  “I’ll try to...” She gasped as his tongue reached the top of her thigh and his hands pushed her legs apart. Where was he going?

  “Brett.”

  “Relax, darling. Trust me.”

  He backed off with his mouth and massaged the sides of her legs, moving down her legs and back up.

  “You are so...”

  His mouth was back. Her leg jerked at the sensation. Yes right there.

  Suddenly his hands slid under her thighs and he lifted her. She looked down.

  “Brett...you want to?”

  He moved back to her mouth, smothering it with an urgent kiss. “Yes, I do.”

  He moved down to her breast, sucking gently then harder, then back down her stomach, back toward...

  “Allison?” He stopped, his eyes questioning.

  Don’t stop. She gently touched the top of his head, encouraging him down.

  His tongue was soft at first, then more insistent. He lifted her higher and kissed her more intimately.

  “Tell me. Show me what you need.”

  He waited, his lips inches from her. She slowly moved her body against his mouth. “Here.” He followed her movements, learning her body, her needs.

  She felt the coiling. It was closer. If she could just...

  “Relax, Allison. Just let it happen. We have plenty of time.”

  His breath was warm, but felt cool against her burning skin.

  “But what about you. It’s not fair.”

  He slid up her body, placing her hand on his erection.

  He was so hard. Throbbing. Hot.

  “Feel this. What’s not fair?” He braced her face. “Allison, I’m not suffering. Now enjoy.”

  He kissed his way back down her body and the excitement grew again, getting closer. Then he was touching her with his fingers. He grabbed her hand and placed it on his.

  “Show me. Where it feels best. Move my hand.”

  She couldn’t do this. But it did feel so good and she was so close and...Her hand began moving his.

  Just there. He understood. Taking over the motion that felt so...

  She arched as the shudders took over her body.

  “Brett.” Intensity. More than she ever imagined. And then suddenly, just as she was slowing down, he plunged inside. Oh god, it kept going.

  He moved rapidly. Shoving her up the carpet with his quick thrusts. Over and over.

  “Ahhh.” One last shove and he collapsed, rolled to the side and gulped for air. “I think...we did it.”

  She laughed.

  He raised his head and arched a brow. “It was funny?”

  She shook her head. “It was glorious.”

  “Thank god.” He dropped his head on her shoulder, his arm draped over her chest. "Sorry we didn't make it to the bed. But I was so ready and I thought if I just kept going and didn’t give you time to think it might be better." He rolled over to his side and lay a hand on her stomach. "You okay?"

  "Eveything's fine, except..." She wiggled her butt. "I may have a few red marks."

  "Oh no, baby." Turning her over on her stomach, Brett gently touched her. "Rug burn?"

  She laughed. "Do you know this is the first time this has ever happen
ed to me?”

  “I know. What do you think I was working so hard for?”

  “Not that.” She laughed again. “I mean I'm thirty-two years old and have never made love on the living room floot before. On any floor."

  "Well, well." Laying flat again, Brett dragged her on top. "Are there other places you haven't made love?"

  "The list is endless. It'd be easier to say the places I have. Not very exciting, huh?"

  "Another quest. I guess we can say we succeeded at this first challenge. Now it looks like we have a new one. Creating a long list of places you've made love with me." He kissed her forehead and jumped up. "Starting with the shower."

  "It's too hot." The water pummeled Allison's back.

  Brett reached around her to adjust the temperature. "I like it that way, but I'll compromise."

  Taking the soap in her hands, she rubbed it over his chest. "You are toooo good to me." The pine scent she had smelled so often on Brett’s skin filled the shower.

  "Give me a few minutes to recover from our little jaunt in the living room and I'll be even nicer to you."

  "What did you have in mind next?"

  He turned her around to face away from the water and pulled her back against his chest. Slowly, very slowly, he ran his hands down her front, pausing to run circles around her nipples before slipping his finger across her stomach and inside her body.

  "I think there are a few spots I haven't kissed yet.” He pulled his finger back and forth slowly. “And I don't want any part of you to feel neglected."

  The pressure caused her body to ache and she jerked forward in his hands seeking more.

  "If you don't stop that," she croaked out, "I'm going to crumble into a heap on the bottom of the shower."

  "It may be easier if we finish this on the bed, but I thought it might come in handy to know how to make love in the shower."

  What was he talking about? It was hard to think when he was, oh god that felt good.

  "Why?"

  "We have so much trouble finding privacy, we may need the shower in the future when other people are around."

  His words sunk in for a second, but his fingers kept moving. And now he twisted her back around to face him. And he kneeled. Oh my, he was...

  "Again?" She clutched his hair as he spread her legs and kissed her gently. He sure had a good memory of exactly the right spot.

  When she screamed, he stood, twirled her, leaned her against the shower wall and thrust inside her again and again, slowly, luxuriously, drawing out the ecstasy. Her body was weak, held up only by Brett’s hands on her shoulders.

  His chest heaving, Brett leaned his head on the tiles behind her head. "I can't believe this." Feeling for the faucet, he turned off the water. "I need to rest."

  They lay on the bed, their legs hanging off the edge, their towels thrown on the bathroom floor.

  "Incredible. Absolutely incredible." Brett laughed. "You are some kind of aphrodisiac, Allison."

  "It is amazing." She paused. "But wonderful."

  Brett's head fell toward her on the sheet. "You like it, too huh?"

  The blush was immediate. Time to change the subject.

  “Where did you get this scar?” She sat up and trailed a finger down the vicious white line on his knee. “It looks like it really hurt.”

  “Football injury.”

  “What the heck was the football made of?”

  “We’re very witty aren’t we?” He smiled. “I tore my knee up when I played football in high school.”

  “Ouch.” She touched it again. “Surgery?”

  “Oh yeah.” He eyes squeezed shut as he shuttered.

  “Were you any good? Before the surgery?”

  “Yeah.”

  He picked at a loose thread on the spread. She could see she was losing him.

  “How good?”

  “I had a scholarship to the University of Virginia.”

  “Wow. I didn’t know you played football at UVA. I remember when we played them when I was at Duke.”

  “I didn’t.”

  She glanced back at the scar and back to his face. “No more after this?”

  He nodded.

  “I’m sorry.” She reached out to touch his face. “It was important to you.”

  “At the time, I thought it was the end of my world.”

  He captured her hand. "Come on down here." He pressed her head to his chest.

  While he stroked her damp hair, she felt his breathing. What was he thinking?”

  “I’d played football all my life. Obviously my size helped, but they said I was good. A jock all the way through school. Hardly ever studied. Terrible grades.” He stopped. “Didn’t even know where to turn when the injury ended all chances of me playing again. I always thought I’d go to the pros. Never even planned on anything else.”

  “Your parents approved of you playing football?”

  “Funny about that. It was okay to be an athlete, as long as I was successful and of course as long as I went to UVA. All Tylers go to UVA you know.”

  “But you did go to UVA anyway didn’t you?”

  “Yeah.” His fingers settled at the bottom of her back, rubbing gently.

  “If you didn’t study and you lost your scholarship, how did you get into school?”

  His fingers stopped moving.

  “I told you. Tylers always go to UVA. My family wasn’t going to let a little thing like bad grades and a pathetic SAT score keep me out. A quick call to one of the board members and, bingo, I’m a freshman.”

  Tylers sound handy to have around when a family member is in a pinch, she thought.

  “But you graduated, so must have studied. I’m sure your family didn’t do that for you.”

  He chuckled. “No. I spent the first semester partying, angry that my world had been turned upside down.” His hand moved down to her butt.

  “Went to every football game drunk, furious at my bad luck. Then my dad sat me down and set me straight. I had an opportunity, the brains and I’d better not screw up. Grow up and graduate he told me in his favorite father tone.”

  “Tylers don’t screw up either I guess.”

  “You got it.” He patted her arm. “Even though his methods may have been wrong, he was right that I needed to get over the fact that my life wasn’t working out the way I’d dreamed. So I buckled down, got a finance degree and then went on to get my MBA. And, well you know the rest.”

  “Hmmm.” She smoothed the hair on his chest.

  “What?”

  “I guess we both had dreams that didn’t quite work out the way we planned.”

  “Yeah.”

  They lay silently, his legs swinging back and forth against the edge of the bed.

  Suddenly she sat up. "What did you mean about making love with other people around?"

  "So you did hear me?"

  Twisting around, she placed a hand on the bed to brace her body as she looked down at Brett.

  “It just seems so hard to find time to be alone that we need to learn to be creative. Never know when there might be a crowd around and we want to be alone.”

  “But, Brett I can’t imagine...“

  “Oh I bet you can.”

  She plopped back on the bed. Oh my. Sneaking into the shower to make love while the family was in the other room. She shivered at the thought of all the places they could make love...and the circumstances.

  This could get interesting.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  The adrenaline raced through Allison's veins, causing her whole body to shake. "Oh my god. Oh my god," she whispered, her knuckles turning white as she grasped the steering wheel. "Concentrate, Allison, or you're going to have an accident."

  Five minutes later she flung open her car door and stumbled toward the concrete drive in front of Brett's house. Her purse strap caught on the seat belt jerking her arm back. "Damnation. You stupid piece of..." The strap slipped free and she slammed the door shut.

  She raced up the step
s and pressed the doorbell. Once. Twice. "Brett, where are you?" She peeked in the window next to the door and saw him strolling up the hall, smiling when he saw her face.

  "Allison?" His smile changed to a frown as she staggered into the entry. "What happened? You're shaking."

  "Oh, Brett.” She seized his shirt with both fists. “It's awful."

  "What's awful? You're scaring me. Did something happen to Kelly?"

  "No. No." She shook her head violently. "It's her father."

  He ushered her into the family room, guiding her down on the couch. Turning her to face him, he captured her hands. "What is it?"

  "He’s dead." Her stomach churned. She was going to throw up.

  “James is dead?”

  "I got a call at work.” Pulling her hands free, she rubbed her face in anguish. "How am I ever going to tell Kelly?”

  “What happened?” He gently drew her hands away from her face. “Did his parents call?”

  She snapped her head around. “No. A lawyer. Their lawyer called. Can you believe that?”

  “A lawyer?” His eyebrows furrowed. “To tell you about the funeral?”

  “He’s already buried.” She closed her eyes. “He died two weeks ago, some kind of jeep accident at the remote location where he was working and they couldn’t get him to a decent hospital in time. His parents had him flown home and buried him without even letting Kelly know.”

  She jumped off the couch. "And that’s not all.” Clutching her stomach, trying to stop the rolling, she faced Brett. “There’s a trust fund James set up for Kelly before he left. He wanted her taken care of...just in case something happened. His parents were handling it. And now...” She wrung her hands. “They’re contesting the will and the trust and they want proof of his paternity.”

  "Come here, darling." He removed her arms from digging into her mid-section.

  “What am I going to do?” She sank to the floor in front of him. “I don’t want the money, but I won’t let them say James wasn’t her father. He loved her. She loved him.” Tears rolled down her face. “He was her father.”

  “They can’t just say he’s not her father, Allison. Just because they want to.”

  “But, Brett. You don’t know what they’re like. They’re very rich and powerful and the attorney said they could do this.” She shook in disgust. “They’re monsters.””