“Yeah, I really do,” I answered truthfully. “Um, I’m not sure if my friend’s even here yet, I don’t see a car in her spot, but would you like to come in for a few minutes?” I looked at him. He nodded.
“Sure, I was going to ask if I could get your number, if that’s okay with you.”
“Sure.” I felt strangely adamant about wanting to see him again. I walked with him and my bag to the front of the house and left him there while I went around back to find the key. It had been moved since my last visit. I unlocked the glass door, sliding it open. Heading for the front door, I quickly inventoried the front room. Everything was exactly the way it had been when I visited last time. It felt familiar and safe, and I felt at home. I finally opened the door and invited Irish into the house. I took my bag and left him standing in the front room. I headed for my room and threw my bag on my bed, along with my purse. It wasn’t really my bed, but it always was while I stayed at Judy’s.
Chapter Two
Judy often teased me, by saying, “If that bed could only talk....” But we both knew it wouldn’t be talking about me. Unless it said that I snore, really loud. I grabbed my phone and cigarettes and headed back into the front room. The glass door was still wide open and Irish was sitting in a patio chair.
“Hey, can I get you something to drink?” I yelled, while hustling to the kitchen to see what we had to offer.
“Just a glass of water for me, thanks,” I heard him answer.
Hmm, Judy, what do we have? I nosed around in the fridge and found an open bottle of wine. Okay, wine and water coming up. With both hands full, I headed to the patio. Irish stood up and took both glasses from me and set them on the small round table between our chairs. I plopped down with a heavy sigh.
“Is the time difference catching up to you yet?” he asked in a whisper. I stifled a yawn, quickly covering my mouth before answering.
“Yes, I believe it is.” I set the phone down next to my glass and banged my pack until a cigarette popped out. Irish stood, retrieving a lighter from his front pocket, and offered me a light. “Oh, thank you,” I said as I exhaled. I crossed my legs, Indian-style, in my chair and suddenly felt the effects of my six-hour flight, completely taking over my body. I was sure that if Irish wasn’t here, I’d be curled up in my queen-size bed right now. That thought produced a vivid picture of me, with Irish, curled up in my queen-sized bed, naked. Whoa girl, pull back on those reigns. Before I could go any further with my indecent thoughts, I made myself snap out of it. I suddenly felt warm and secretly giggled to myself.
“Oh,” I reached my arm out toward him, “let me see your phone.” He looked surprised, or maybe I just caught him off guard, but he said, “Sure” and stood up to retrieve it from his pocket. While he stood there, I couldn’t help ogling his physique. Yes, inviting Mr. Irish blue eyes in was a great choice.
He handed me his phone...reluctantly. “You’re just adding your number, right?” and he paused, “Pepper,” finishing with a hint of laughter as he sat back down. I gave him an eye-roll and cupped his phone to my chest with one hand. He laughed again, appreciating my feistiness, and I noticed for the first time what a pleasant, attractive, almost come-hither laugh he had. I punched in my number and handed the phone back.
“So, Irish, tell me, do you often save stranded women at the airport?” I avoided eye contact and reached for my glass, smiling devilishly. I enjoyed the feel of his eyes on me.
“No, actually you’re my first.” And I felt my heart flip flop, just hearing this man say I was his first anything. Twisting a strand of my hair around my finger, I continued my selfish interrogation. My eyes shot straight to his deliciously tanned arms and slowly made a trail that ended at his long, sexy fingers.
“So what are you doing when you’re not coming to the aid of marooned maidens?”
“Well I like to play around with different types of music, and hike, and um, just about anything outdoors.” he paused a moment and reached for his glass. “I’m 25, single, although I’ve just met this really beautiful woman, so I’ll have to check with her before I can say for sure whether I’m available,” he said calmly, placing his glass on the table.
Wow, that came out of nowhere. I could only stare at him. It was becoming a frequent occurrence with me today. I took a sip of my wine, and he sat there smiling at me. My heart was melting as I mentally replayed his words.
He reached for his water and now we were staring at each other. Not the same intense stare we shared at the airport. Not my crazy, dumbfounded ogle; this was more of a sexual stare. I could actually feel the heat floating from my face, surrounding me. What I was feeling now wasn’t normal for me; in fact, it was actually scaring the hell out of me. He took another sip from his glass and quickly set it back on the table. We continued to stare, both of us almost seeing inside the other, taking our own private inventory. I made myself break our stare, oddly pleased with the way this was playing out between us.
“Do you know how beautiful you really are?” he asked in a low, sensuous voice. My eyes flew back to his.
W-w-what the flipping hell, I thought. I wasn’t sure what picture the look on my face was painting, but I was sure it wasn’t the picture I wanted him to see. If I hadn’t been the only other person here, and he hadn’t been staring directly into my eyes, I might have been tempted to look behind me. “Wow, Irish, thank you. That’s really very sweet of you,” and my eyes dropped to my lap without my permission. My insides were screaming and my heartbeat was beginning to speed up like a motorboat with too much horsepower. I only hoped my exterior wasn’t radiating my feelings in big bold letters across my very red face.
“Well it’s the truth; probably why I couldn’t help staring at you when I saw you sitting out front at the airport,” he said in a velvet-sounding whisper.
I looked at my glass, feeling an uncomfortable embarrassment. I’d been called cute before, but was only told I was beautiful by one other man in my life, my dad. I took another gulp and reached for my cigarette pack, but I watched him from the corner of my eye.
“I know you took a huge risk coming with me today,” and he inhaled slowly before continuing, “And you have no idea how happy I am that you did,” and he paused as he moved forward in his chair. I watched as his fingers intertwined, and with his forearms resting on his thighs, he became quiet, as if he were selecting his words. We stared down at his hands in silence. I felt myself inhale deeply and the blood rush back to my face.
I finally looked up at him and he was smiling sweetly, contentedly, and seemed strangely confident. For me, the world had stopped completely. No one else existed except us. He suddenly stood up and shoved his hand into his front pocket. As he pulled out his lighter and reached over the table toward me, I also stood...only I moved around the table, to him. I placed my glass and cigarette on the table, watching his face and saw one eyebrow rise. I gave him my sexiest smile. He reciprocated, only I’m sure his smile was far sexier than mine. He was in the big leagues and I was still in t-ball. He dropped the lighter on the table. I stepped in as close as I could and took in his beautiful full lips. My lips parted and my tongue rested patiently between my lips. I felt his strong arms encircle my waist and his hands gently but firmly hold my hips. I followed his lead and I slipped my hands deeply into his back pockets and gave his butt cheek a gentle squeeze. I closed my eyes and leaned slowly into him.
At first, our kiss was butterfly soft, our lips barely brushed against the others; I was tingling in places I’d never tingled before. As the seconds ticked by, the momentum picked up and I knew that stopping was not in the equation. Not in my equation. This was way better than any article in Cosmos magazine had said it would be, and this gal just might make it all the way to home plate. We slowly pressed even harder into each other, touching everywhere, until I could actually feel the heat radiating from his body. My knees weakened at the sudden sensation that was pulsing through my body with the same rhythm of a forgotten turn signal. I tasted his tongue in
my mouth. I tried to slow myself down, to savor each new feeling. I felt myself shifting my body against him side to side, the combined heat seemed to almost melt us together. God, he felt so good; this felt so electric that my heart began racing. Every inch of my body was on fire as his hands moved up and down my back. Just when I felt I might pass out, I opened my eyes and gently pushed away, breaking our passionate embrace.
I wasn’t sure if it was the wine, or just him. I grabbed my shirt and while he held my hips firmly, I lifted it over my head and tossed it into the air. He quickly followed suit, nimbly lifting his shirt off and tossing it on the ground. He kissed me again, but this time he stopped, took my face in his hands, searching my eyes, almost asking me if I was sure I wanted something more. I nodded and quickly found his lips.
I felt his hands slide up and down my back, and then while unfastening my bra, he gently whispered in my ear, “Let’s go in the house and do everything that we’ve thought about doing to each other since we met,” his hot, sweet breath blanketed my ear. My mouth dropped open as I felt him breathing me in. He kissed my naked chest while I ran my fingers slowly up and down his rock-hard bulge, deliberately teasing him through his jeans. He groaned but suddenly pulled away slightly, his hands dropped from my body instantly, and our eyes locked.
“Hello, J.C., I’m back, anyone home?”
Irish and I froze. Then we scattered in different directions, collecting our shirts, and my heart was pounding out of my chest. When we had our shirts back on, I headed for the front room, leaving Irish standing on the patio. When I glanced back, I saw him stuffing my bra down the front of his pants, making me giggle.
With my arms open wide, I started my ridiculous squealing, like a girl. “Judy, finally we meet!”
We hugged like we hadn’t seen each other in years although it had been only four months. I grabbed the grocery bag from her and followed her to the kitchen. We both stopped and smiled at each other. “I’ve really missed you,” I sang. She smacked me on the shoulder and took the bag from me. When our eyes met again, I gave her my crazy, googly eyes and began silently bopping and nodding my head toward the patio. She gave me a kind of blank stare and then peeked out the kitchen window when she finally realized what I was doing.
With big eyes and a bigger smile she whispered, “Who’s that?”
I smiled, putting on my best silent, crazy-girl face. “That’s Irish…like the whiskey,” I whispered. We both laughed. I helped her put the groceries away and pulled her arm toward the patio door. Poor Irish was still standing where I’d left him holding his glass of water.
“Judy, this is Irish. I met him at the airport and he was kind enough to give me a ride home.” Judy reached for his hand. Irish met her hand and they shook politely.
“Thanks so much, Irish, for rescuing my friend.”
He replied, “It was no problem really.”
We stood there for the next several moments just looking at Irish. It was becoming a bit awkward.
“May I use the restroom?” he asked, looking at Judy.
“Sure, follow me. I’ll point you in the right direction,” and Irish disappeared down the hallway.
I eased over to the chair and reached for my cigarette and lighter. I saw Judy through the kitchen window, so I stood by the pane to talk to her, “So what happened to your car?” When I got no response, I peeked in the window, cupping my hand to the glass to see if she was still there.
“Boo!” I jumped. She laughed at me and headed for a patio chair. I followed her and sat down. “Irish huh?” she said, smiling ear to ear. When Judy smiles, it’s big and slides across her entire face. It’s infectious and makes everyone smile.
I smirked and then smiled. “Yeah, but with my luck, it’s going to end up being just like a country song with a bad ending.”
She laughed. “Well when God was handing out good looks, Irish was definitely at the front of the line.”
I sat up in my chair. “You really think so?” I grabbed my glass and tipped it toward hers. I drank my last swallow of wine. “He reminds me of one of those rugged, outdoor male model dudes, you know, the ones pictured on a magazine cover with a bike, no shirt, and a bottle of some new sports drink or energy bar.” We laughed.
Just then we looked up to see Irish standing at the patio door. How long had he been there?
He was grinning handsomely.
“Hey, I was just getting ready to come looking for you.” I smiled, watching his face for any indication that he overheard us. He didn’t move. It was clear he’d heard some of our conversation. I stood up.
“I’m going to take off now. I need to get home and take my dog for a run. And I also need to do some laundry.” His eyes moved from mine to Judy’s. “It was really nice meeting you. I hope to see you again soon.”
Did he say soon? That sounded good to me. Judy also stood up. “That sounds great, Irish. Thanks again.”
I walked with him to the door, and gave his hand a squeeze as he stepped outside. “Thanks again, Irish, for everything.” He gave me a sexy little wink, turned and walked away.
Before he was five feet away from the door, he turned half his body around and said with that big beautiful smile, “Your bra is under your pillow.”
I laughed as I watched him walk to his car. I closed the door and plastered myself to the back of it, my arms straight out against the wood. I had a wide grin on my face. I knew it was the biggest I’d had in a long time.
I headed back to the patio and before I could make it through the doorway, Judy asked, “What would a guy named Irish name his dog?” We both cracked up laughing.
“More wine?” I asked.
While I was in the kitchen pouring our wine, I heard Judy yell, “Your phone’s beeping.”
I walked out, sat down, and picked up my cell. It was a text: Your real name is almost as beautiful as you are. I closed the phone.
“What a day,” I whispered to myself.
* * *
Irish and I sat on a blanket on the grassy bank and we could see the moon shining over the calm water. He was strumming his guitar, singing Ambrosia’s “Biggest Part of Me.” I stared at his beautiful face, letting myself melt deeply into his eyes, taking in every word, as if he’d written them just for me. “Well make a wish, baby, and I’ll make it come true,” he sang softly. I leaned forward slowly, searching for his lips. He stopped playing and set his guitar behind him, then leaned in to kiss me. He whispered, “Tell me what you wish for, Jurnee.” I smiled at him and leaned back slowly, then swiftly pulled my shirt over my head, quickly unclasping my bra, I could hear his breathing speed up. He sat there staring at me, watching for my next move.
“Is there something I can do for you, Jurnee?” he smiled devilishly, giving me the slightest hint of a wink, and then focused on my breasts. I pointed to my nipple, and before I could move my finger away, he was there consuming, and kissing it as I moaned softly.
“Your every wish is my pleasure, girl,” he said, and pressed his lips on mine. His skin was warm and silky against me; a sudden warm wave of arousal pulsed through my entire body. I arched my back a little, allowing his soft butterfly kisses to move back and forth between my neck and chest. His hair tickled my nipples as his soft warm lips continued to move up and down my body. I was a beautiful, desirable princess and he was my accommodating prince. I didn’t want my fairytale to end.
“Please don’t stop. Kiss me, baby,” I moaned. I said it again, only now I was begging, “Kiss me, Irish....”
“Where do you want me to kiss you, Jurnee?” he asked sweetly.
* * *
“J.C., you awake?” A soft voice asked.
My eyes popped open. Are you serious? It was all a dream, I thought. “Well isn’t that a real dog’s dinner?” I whispered under my breath. “Yeppers, I’m awake,” I answered my dear friend.
We made breakfast together as we had since we were teenagers. I sat on the counter popping English muffins into the toaster as she made our hot ch
ocolate. We then moved to the couch, sharing a blanket while we watched a taped episode of True Blood. It felt good to be here. Out of nowhere, a loud thump came from the front door. We jumped.
“Do you think it could be Igor the vampire or a werewolf coming for us?” I laughed.
Judy put the program on pause and headed for the front door. “No. I think we’re safe. It’s only the paper boy and he’s late again, third time this month.”
I took my last bite of muffin and said, “Maybe someone isn’t tipping enough?” giving her my best googly eyes.
I stood up to take my plate to the kitchen when I heard Judy yell, “We have flowers.” She smiled at me as she walked through the doorway, carrying the paper and a beautiful floral arrangement.
“Wow. Those are pretty. Who’s sweet on you now, Jude?” I asked, following her to the kitchen. She set the arrangement down and opened the card. I hopped up on the counter anticipating a really juicy story.
“Hmm, they’re for you, and he’d like to continue whatever it was you started.” She smiled with curiosity in her eyes, handing me the card.
What time was it anyway? I searched the room. Seven o’clock? Someone was up early.
I finally looked at the card. Jurnee, my dreams were filled with everything about you last night. Thank you for that. I hope we can pick up where we left off.
Okay, now I could feel myself blushing.
“Are those from Irish?” Judy asked with narrowed eyes.
“Yes, it seems they are,” I smiled.
Judy left me sitting on the counter to go take her shower, and for some odd reason, I couldn’t take my eyes off the flowers. Normally I was less than thrilled with any kind of arrangement. They’d always stirred up bad memories. But these flowers...well, I couldn’t stop staring at them. I held the card to my chest and whispered, “I guess these are okay.”
I Made You My First Page 2