Irresistible You

by Celeste O. Norfleet

Juliet closed her eyes willing his hands as they scorched her body. His mouth lowered to her tight abdomen. He tenderly nibbled and licked firm muscles as he gradually moved closer. Juliet gasped and moaned feeling his hands drift closer and closer to the core of her pleasure. She pulled away grasping his tortuous hand and holding it, but his relentless focus found his treasure again. His fingers stroked her inner thigh upwards drawing a quick gasp, as he grazed the tiny hair covering her opening.

  “J.T.,” Juliet moaned as she rubbed his neck and arm.

  “Umm,” he groaned inaudibly, too intent on pleasing her to answer.

  “J.T.…” she gasped unexpectedly as his fingers found her tender treasure and began stroking her gently. She reached for his hand again but he captured her and intertwined his finger with hers.

  “Shhh,” he muttered, “let me love you.” He heard the sizzle of her quick breath and felt the moisture of her readiness.

  She opened her eyes and found him staring at her just inches away. He hovered over her preparing to enter. She reached down and found his hardness. Gripping solidly she guided him to the entrance of her treasure. He lowered his body easing himself into her drawing a gasp of exquisite pleasure.

  Juliet’s body shuddered and arched upwards taking him in fully and instantly felt the full force of his passion. Tight and taut her body accepted him. Her nails bit into his shoulder and her thighs wrapped around his waist.

  His lips fastened to hers as his body pulled back then thrust again. He sank deep into her as the next thrust joined them again. Juliet bit at her lower lip and J.T. took and held her hands on either side of her shoulders and suckled sending her over the edge of elation.

  He rocked his hips to her rhythm as the ancient dance continued. The swelling of rapture filled them as their bodies moved as one joined in a single goal in furious abandon. The frantic pace continued until the ultimate crescendo took them like a tsunami over the edge in a climatic explosion.

  Their bodies tensed then released as the last remnants of passion drained from his body. He gathered her into his arms and tucked her to his side as he rolled from her body pulling her with him.

  Later after her breathing returned and her heart stopped pounding, she opened her eyes. She assumed that she had fallen asleep because the room had changed. She was under the covers and J.T.’s arm was protectively over her waist.

  With gentle ease she removed his arm and sat up. It was time to leave. She found her clothes draped neatly on the back of a chair assuming that J.T. had placed them there. Dressing quickly, she slipped into her shoes, grabbed her shawl and purse and silently closed the door behind her.

  An hour later she lay in her own bed with the images of their first night indelibly imprinted on her memory. A satisfied sigh coursed through Juliet as she smiled slyly remembering that night. Never had a man made her feel the way he had. She chuckled silently then snuggled deeper under the sheets cocooned and bathed in the warmth of her memory of their last time together. As thousands suffered the endless ramifications of the blackout, she had been blissfully content in the arms of J.T. Evans.

  That was until morning came and she rolled over leisurely to the coolness of an empty bed. With her eyes still closed, she’d reached out to feel if he was still there. He wasn’t. She sat up suddenly and looked around. The desk and the lamp in the corner were on, along with the laptop computer, but the room was very certainly empty.

  “J.T.,” she had called out then waited for a response. The silence told her that she was definitely alone. She gathered the sheet around her body and stood. Walking to the bathroom, she glanced in. Shiny black marble and polished chrome sparkled. She went back into the bedroom and checked out a half hour later.

  It was as if fate had thrown them together, sending them to the hotel at exactly the same time. It was fate that led them into each other’s arms, and it was fate that let her wake up alone.

  Everything added up to one big coincidence after another, the blackout, the hotel room and now finally, the biggest coincidence of them all, J.T. had come back into her life.

  Chapter Eight

  J.T. glanced at his watch as he sat in the meeting for over an hour listening to the best and brightest minds in the company discuss strategy for the launch of their latest software. Months had gone into its conception, production and implementation. This was the exciting part, marketing the release of a new product. Unfortunately, J.T. didn’t have the slightest clue what was going on at the moment. For the first time in months his thoughts were miles away.

  Like so many of his dreams and fantasies, Juliet had come to him and they had made love. The memory of the red dress in his hand brought a knowing smile. When he picked it up off the floor he brought it to his face and inhaled the sweet perfume of her body. Sweet and sexy, his body yearned for her again. But he had decided to wait and let her rest. The morning would be soon enough.

  Then he would take her into his shower and they would make love again. Afterwards, he’d dry her body with his hands, lay her back down on the bed and make love to her again, the perfect start to his day. But it didn’t happen that way. Instead, he woke up alone to an empty bed. The fantasy of making love again to Juliet had vanished like a thief in the night.

  J.T. picked up the computer tablet in front of him and refocused his attention back on the employees surrounding him at the conference table. They were all capable and proficient, yet no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t grasp the simplest ideas they presented. This was ridiculous, he thought to himself as he picked up and shuffled the papers again.

  He had never been so distracted by anything or anyone in his life. Except, he thought knowingly, months ago when he’d actually gone so far as to hire a private investigator to find his elusive New York City dancer. Thinking that it was business, Trey had suggested it after realizing the change in him. At that time he had been completely distracted and totally preoccupied with a single thought, finding Juliet.

  Now, here he was again with Juliet on his mind. But this time he knew exactly where to find her. The question was what was he going to do about it? He mulled over the question in his mind as he impatiently tapped his pen on the table drawing several eyes in his direction. There was only one way to find out the answer to his question. That was to go directly to the source, Juliet Bridges.

  He looked at his watch again, impatient for time to move. But it only served to frustrate him further. “Why don’t we take a break and pick this up again tomorrow, same time,” he suggested, instantly ending the meeting and dismissing everyone. Amid nods, closing folders and glances of concern the key marketing and sales teams began leaving the conference room.

  He stayed seated as the others returned to their respective offices. Within minutes the conference room was empty except for J.T. and his father seated on opposite ends of the long mahogany conference table.

  J.T. ventured a glance into the gripping eyes that mirrored his own. The family resemblance was obvious. After all, he was his father’s son. Unfortunately, the last thing he needed to see right now was his conscious reflected back at him through his father’s eyes.

  Jace gathered the meeting notes into the folder. “You want to tell me what that was all about?” he asked as the door closed soundly behind the last person to leave.

  J.T. didn’t bother to look away. “Nothing,” he said and looked at his watch for effect. “I have another appointment across town and I just wanted more time to consider our options.”

  Jace looked at his son skeptically. He’d noticed all morning that J.T. was behaving oddly. He wasn’t his usual single-mindedly focused self. This, the product launch, was always his favorite part. He usually had dozens of brilliant promotional and marketing ideas. Yet this morning he barely opened his mouth. And the statement, considering his options, was completely out of character.

  Jace seldom concerned himself with the day-to-day operations of Evans Corporation, having recently appointed J.T. as CEO. He was now free to leave the bulk of
the management of the business to his son.

  J.T. was an expert when it came to developing computer software. He was considered one of the few computer geniuses and always been passionate about his work. So, to see him disinterested in the launch of a new product that he himself had designed and developed, and lose focus in the middle of an important meeting was more than just a little troubling.

  Jace stood and walked over to J.T. “Now, you want to tell me what’s really going on?” He laid his computer tablet down on the table and took a seat at his son’s side.

  J.T. shrugged easily as he hit a few key strokes and waited a few seconds for an image to appear. He spun the laptop computer in his father’s direction. “The product is perfect.” He smiled as he glanced at the computer simulation, proud of his latest achievement. “We’re going to revolutionize software with this one. We just need to develop the perfect launch. After that it will practically sell itself.”

  “That’s not what I’m talking about,” Jace said then pressed a key making the monitor go black.

  J.T. looked at his father, surprised by his father’s intuition. “What do you mean?”

  Jace arched his brow but remained silent. J.T. looked at his father’s impatient expression. There was no getting around it. When it came to willful and stubborn, Jace Evans was the epitome.

  “I had lunch with Mom yesterday. She told me about her latest venture.”

  “And?” Jace prompted.

  “And? Dad, aren’t you the least bit concerned that she’s being taken advantage of with this arts center thing?”

  Jace smiled and shook his head remembering his reaction all too well. He had felt the same way years ago when it came to the Taylor’s love for the arts. At the time, as far as he was concerned, it was a waste of time and energy. But that was a long time ago before Taylor had opened his eyes to a new world of art. "Arts center thing?” he said sternly.

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Don’t underestimate your mother. I learned a long time ago not to make that mistake.” He shook his head and chuckled. “I suggest you not do the same.” Jace stood and picked up the computer tablet.

  “A million dollars…” J.T. followed his father’s lead. He picking up his computer and walked to the conference room door.

  Jace turned to his son. “Is it the money that concerns you?”

  “No, of course, not.”

  Jace continued walking down the hallway, smiling knowingly. “You never did develop a passion for the arts, did you?”

  “You need to talk to her about this,” J.T. said.

  “And what exactly do you want me to say?” Jace asked.

  “Anything, tell her how dangerous a venture like this can be.”

  Jace shook his head. “You’ve obviously been on the road too long.”

  “There’s no way she’s prepared to undertake something like this. With something this big every bogus artists and arts group will be trying to get in on it. She’s making a mistake by being so trusting.”

  “Believe me,” Jace said, opening the door, “your mother seldom makes mistakes. As a matter of fact,” he thought for a moment then smiled broadly, “in all these years she’s never made one.” The two men walked down the hall towards the executive wing, side by side. “And as for trust,” Jace continued, “she’s a better judge of character than anyone I know. I’m sure Taylor knows exactly what she’s doing.”

  They rounded the corner nearing J.T.’s corner office. “That’s precisely what concerns me. Why exactly is she doing this?”

  “Believe me your mother knows exactly what she’s doing. The property she’s interested in is appraised for one point four million dollars. She’s getting it for a bargain at one million—an excellent price considering the neighborhood is up-and-coming.”

  “What up-and-coming, she told me herself that it’s an old condemned building.”

  “Diamond in the rough,” Jace reminded him. “It’s not the building, it’s the land. The entire area is primed for a renaissance and your mother is the person to make that happen. Since her art gallery opened, there have been a number of companies attracted to the waterfront location. The tourists love the nearby historic sites and the neighborhood feel. It’s a goldmine.

  “Mark my words, in five years that area will be the next Georgetown. So your mother’s million dollar rundown building will quadruple in less than five years without touching a single brick.”

  J.T. was impressed. He had no idea that his mother was so real estate savvy.

  “You need to have a bit more faith son. Open your eyes. There’s a lot more to life than computer software. I learned that the hard way.” Jace looked at his son’s still troubled brow. “You’re still not convinced?”

  “My gut tells me that there’s something’s not right.”

  “You think there’s more to this?”

  “I’d bet that million dollars on it.”

  Jace knew that look well. When Taylor painted, her eyes would sparkle and shine as the creative juices flowed. J.T. was just like Taylor in that respect. Whenever he felt that he was on to something, he’d get that same glimmer in his eyes.

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know yet.”

  “You must have some idea. What are your thoughts?”

  “Nothing yet, I’m just curious about some things, one being Mamma Lou,” he said warily.

  “Louise Gates? She’ll be visiting for a few days to keep your mother company while Otis Wheeler and I go on that fishing trip.”

  “I know and that’s what concerns me.”

  Jace chuckled. “That’s it, isn’t it? It’s not Taylor you’re trying to save, it’s yourself—from a nice old lady.” He shook his head still chuckling. “You think Louise is trying to set you up with someone, don’t you?”

  “The thought has crossed my mind.”

  “So, not only will Taylor, Louise and Lena be altering the landscape of DC’s cultural landscape, but Louise is using Taylor and their new venture as a way of getting you down the aisle?”

  It sounded ridiculous, silly and paranoid. Even J.T. had to admit to that. “As I said before, I don’t know anything, yet.”

  Jace nodded. “You’ll let me know when you do,” he offered obviously answered.

  “Mom invited me to the ballet last night,” J.T. said as they approached his outer office.

  “Yes, she told me. I couldn’t make it and your sisters are both away. So as CEO, the responsibility now falls to you.” Knowing J.T. considered the arts as a waste of time, Jace was surprised that he even agreed to go. “What did you think of it?” Jace asked as J.T.’s secretary handed him his messages.

  J.T. nodded absently. “Interesting,” he said as he smiled slyly, remembering the private dance in the dark studio and the passionate kiss he and Juliet shared in her dressing room.

  “That’s an odd way to describe the evening, particularly Carmen. I understood the performance was supposed to be extremely moving. And the lead dancer, what was her name,” he pondered thoughtfully.

  “Juliet, Juliet Bridges,” J.T. responded quickly, maybe a bit too quickly.

  “Yes, that’s it, Juliet Bridges. She’s supposed to be breathtaking.”

  “She is that,” J.T. muttered, just loud enough for his father to hear. His smile broadened. Juliet Bridges had certainly taken his breath away on more than one occasion.

  J.T. opened the door of his office allowing his father to enter first. Jace stepped inside and looked around at the newly redecorated office. He frowned at seeing the lack of warmth and personality around him. The office had a minimalist design, sparsely decorated with ultra-slick modern furniture and a bank of monitors lining the desk. It was, given J.T.’s personality, functional and impersonal—exactly what he’d expected to see.

  J.T. walked over and stood behind his desk. He punched a few keys accessing the multi-screened control system. He touched a button and all of the monitors booted up. A final access code was keyed
in and he was automatically logged in.

  J.T. shuffled through the messages his secretary had given him, putting them in order of importance. He read through the notes focusing on two in particular. One from Trey and the other was a request to join Phillip Waverly at the theater later that afternoon. “Tell me about the Arts Commission?”

  “It’s your mother’s pet project. She and a few friends of hers conceived, developed and organized the Commission as a way to generate interest in the arts.”

  “Have you met Phillip Waverly?”

  “Yes, he’s the president of the Washington Cultural Center.”

  “What exactly does he do?”

  “Money,” Jace stated plainly. “His main objective is always to raise, as much money as possible, as often as possible and as quickly as possible. He has an uncanny knack for attracting funds from wealthy patrons and forging lucrative corporate sponsorships. He’s also a very talented man when it comes to developing arts programs and performances for the center, but his primary objective is money.”

  “This is DC. Money is everybody’s focus.”

  “True, but Phillip is an enigma of sorts. Unlike a great number of fundraisers in this area, personal recognition has never been his primary ambition. He is, in my opinion, a passionate advocate for the arts—ballet, opera and the symphony, and has always put funding the arts above everything else.”

  J.T. nodded understanding.

  “Occasionally your cousin Trey does an investigation of the organization for your mother, just to make sure everything is still copasetic.”

  “What’s his relationship with Mom and her new venture? Wouldn’t that be considered a conflict of interest and taking money from his programs since she won’t be as active with the Cultural Center?”

  “Not at all. As a matter of fact, Phillip was delighted when Taylor told him about the idea.” J.T. looked at him oddly. “Remember, Phillip is foremost a lover of the arts, another program to advance the arts in the community only enhances his agenda. His main mission in life is to bring the arts to the world anyway he can,” Jace said noticing the orchid on the desk for the first time.