by Sahara Kelly
“Jack…” It was a whisper of sound and yet he heard it and it rocketed through his gut like lightning.
His hips pounded into her, beyond his control, and her cunt clung to him, releasing only to tighten around him once more.
They found a natural rhythm, a dance à deux that was older than time but seemed brand new to both of them. It certainly was for Jack.
His balls had tightened to rocks between his legs, slapping against Daphne as he thrust again and again. He knew he was going to come, knew he had to come, and yet he wanted to wait…to explore these new sensations…this new feeling of…what?
It was a losing battle. Nature was about to triumph.
Shifting his weight, Jack slipped one hand between their bodies and found Daphne’s clit. All it took was a slight caress and she was choking, gasping for air and a scream boiling up in her throat.
“Jaaaack…”
She came around him, through him, clamping down on him ferociously and with such a total lack of control that he surrendered and fell with her.
Life, as he’d known it up to that moment, had ended.
Something new had begun.
* * * * *
Daphne heard music.
At first she wondered if it was the aftereffects of the most incredibly gut-clenching orgasm she’d ever had. Then she realized it was the soundtrack to the movie they’d never watched.
She snorted to herself. Who needed to watch it when you could do it?
And, darn it, they’d done it. Oh boy had they done it.
Jack eased himself away from her, and she repressed the urge to hold him tight and beg him not to move for a couple of thousand years.
She sighed. It was over. A fabulous…fuck…yes. That was the word. Four letters, social unacceptability and all. They’d fucked. Like minks or whatever rodent it was that apparently fucked its little brains out.
She cast a glance around her in case there were any bits of her brain that had shaken loose during the whole experience.
Nope. Nothing but a tumbled pile of clothes.
Jack disappeared through a doorway and she heard water running. Stiffly, she reached for her underwear, wrinkling her nose at its sodden state. Ugh. Still, it had been worth it.
She slipped her feet into her panties and tugged them up, wincing as the cool damp cotton met hot sticky flesh. She shivered, and grabbed her bra and shirt.
“You’re dressing.”
She blinked. Jack stood watching her, splendidly naked, cock nestled softly between his legs, but the rest of him beautifully hard and sculpted. Oh lord, he was a true work of art in the classical sense.
Her nipples hardened once more. Okay. Not just in the classical sense.
“Yes…I…” Oh dear. Now what? “I…um…”
He grinned at her. Damn him.
“Sweetheart.” Jack unselfconsciously stepped into his briefs. “You’re embarrassed now, aren’t you?”
She gulped. “A little. I don’t know what to say…what I should do… I’m not used to… I don’t do…um…”
He sat down next to her and grabbed her hand. The one that was waving helplessly in the air as she sought for words.
“Well, you could tell me that it was as good for you as it was for me. You could tell me your world rocked. You could ask me for a cigarette…”
“I don’t smoke.” She stared at him, trying to read his eyes. “But yes to everything else, Jack. It was beyond awesome. You rocked my world.”
She could swear she felt a slight tremor in the hand that held hers. “Honestly, Jack. I’m not very experienced at all this stuff, it’s true. But that…what we just did? I…don’t know what to say.” She looked away. “Thank you seems a little inadequate.”
“How about ‘can we do it again’?”
“Now?” Daphne’s brain spun off into orbit once more.
His laugh was warm. “Well, darlin’, I could probably go for a double-header, but something tells me you’re going to be a bit sore, if you’re not already.”
She felt the color rise in her cheeks at his words.
“I…um…”
He pulled her into his arms, and she sighed at the touch of his bare skin to hers. “So how long has it been?”
“Since I did…this?”
“Mmm hmm.”
Daphne thought. And thought.
“That long, huh?” Jack’s voice was amused.
“Honestly?” She glanced at him. “Never.”
“Jesus.” He sucked in a breath. “You’re not saying you were a virgin?”
She chuckled. “No. But I’ve never done it like that before. That was a first for me, Jack.”
He hugged her tightly. “I’m glad. It was kind of a first for me too.”
“It was?”
He looked oddly self-conscious. “Yeah. Well. Kinda. It was…um…wild, you know?”
“For the record, I don’t attack men like that. Don’t know what came over me.”
“I’d like to think I did.”
His voice was low and sensual, and Daphne got goose bumps all over again thinking of Jack coming over her. “Oh you did.”
He raised his hand and gently stroked her cheek. “You all right, babe?”
Well darn. Why did he have to do things like that? It made it hard for her to think. She closed her eyes and enjoyed his touch. “Mmm.”
“Daph?”
“Mmm?”
“Want to go out on a date?”
Her eyes snapped open. “What?”
“A date. You know. Dinner, maybe a movie. A date.”
“Good lord. Isn’t that putting the cart before the horse? Or bolting the barn door…or something?” Now she was mixing her metaphors. Daphne never mixed her metaphors.
He simply smiled, that devastating, make-my-thighs-sweat smile. “I don’t care. We’ll do things our way. Make new rules. A date.”
He shrugged a little, rubbing Daphne’s flesh with his own. Okay hormones. Cut it out. I need to be able to walk tomorrow.
“Unless you don’t want to—”
“No, no! I mean yes. I mean…” She blew air through her teeth. “I mean, yes—I’d love to go out with you, Jack. Really.” She let her fingers drift to his chest and play in the soft whorls of hair. “Really.”
He laughed. “Cool. It’s a date.” He put his hand over hers and held it tight against him. “I’d love to ask you to spend the night Daph, but it’s probably too soon, huh?”
Nope. It’s just right thanks. “Um, yes. It probably is.” Daphne sighed and withdrew her hand from his. Oh…oh…darn.
“C’mon, sweetheart. I’ll take you home. We’ll make plans for our date. A real date, Daph. Think about it.”
She struggled into her clothes, a little confused. A date? Jack Foster, super-handsome, obviously rich guy, who drove a red Corvette yet, was excited about a date? With her?
Well, it looked like there was a herd of cows about to come home. Or the moon was blue. Or something. It really was Daphne’s day for miracles to happen. She made a mental note to mix her metaphors more often.
* * * * *
Jack unbuckled his seat belt, leaned over and kissed Daphne. She was warm and willing and her lips met his with an innocent enthusiasm that was now fueled by a knowledge of the passion that lay between them.
It was arousing, heady and made Jack’s senses swim. His cock was hard again, and he wondered what the fuck was the matter with him. He should have her in his bed, smothered in silk sheets, and sticky from more loving. Lots more loving. In every way he could think of. And right now, he could think of plenty.
But instead, he was kissing her goodnight like some horny teenager after the prom.
“Goodnight, Jack.” She peeled her lips from his, eyes shadowed with tiredness and a soft smile curving her lips.
“So it’s a date for Friday, right?”
Shit. Push her, why don’t you? Jack mentally kicked himself in the balls. They were hard enough so that it barely hurt.
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“You bet.” She smiled and brushed his mouth with hers once more before sliding from the leather seat. “Goodnight.”
He’d gotten her phone number, found out where she lived and where she worked. They’d made plans for Friday. All was as it should be.
And yet…and yet…he didn’t want to let her go.
He watched her cute ass swaying up the walkway.. He watched her turn back and wave as she unlocked the apartment doors and let herself inside. He watched her wait for the elevator and give him a final wave as she stepped out of his sight.
And then she was gone.
Jack drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. This was so…weird.
His apartment seemed strangely empty when he let himself back in. Instead of his haven, his sanctuary, it was now lacking something.
And he knew what that something was. It was Daphne.
The little librarian with the awful taste in colors and the eyes that lit up like fire when she—oh fuck.
He ignored the hard-on that sprang to life at his memories, and went about his usual routine. But he couldn’t keep his thoughts in check and she intruded everywhere.
He brushed his teeth—and thought about Daphne.
He turned out the lights and checked the locks. And thought about Daphne.
He put the coffee into the pot and set the timer. And thought about Daphne.
He finally slipped between the sheets of his own bed. And…
Sheeeeiiittt.
She was there too. All curvy body, hair flying, smile lighting up her face. Jack groaned as his cock made sleep impossible.
There was so much he didn’t know about her. Did she like flowers? What kind of music did she like?
Was she a football fan? Was she allergic to peanuts?
He wanted to know everything about her. Everything. Right down to the last little detail.
They had a date. For Friday, if he could last that long. He’d have made it sooner if he hadn’t had work to finish, a shoot to complete that he knew would last long into the nights ahead. But by Friday it would be done. Had to be done, since the contracts had specified the date, and Big John Johnson had never gone over contract.
A thought intruded.
Somehow, sometime, someplace, he was going to have to tell Daphne who he really was. And what he really did.
And the consequent thought sent a chill down his spine and deflated his cock almost instantaneously.
How would she take it? How would she react to knowing that she was dating one of the biggest names in the porn industry? Would she still want to see him? Would she dump him? Or worse…
Would she turn into someone like the rest of the women he’d dated? Hungry for what he could give her, what he could do for her? What he had?
Not who he was?
Oh fuuuuuuuck.
Chapter Seven
For one of the few times she could remember, Daphne wished she had a close girlfriend. Someone she could talk to about her incredible experience with Jack Foster.
Instead, she spent the next morning doing her job, efficiently handling the day-to-day business of the library, and doing it all with only half her mind.
The other half—well, that was still on Jack’s red couch, writhing in pleasure.
Was this normal? Was she developing some weird complex about the man? He intruded on her every waking moment, and she sighed as she tried for the third time to alphabetize the returns on the cart.
G comes before J. And I came—but not before J. We came together. Just about.
No. Bad mind. Forget about it for now. Focus on work.
The sound of the phone ringing in her tiny office was a welcome distraction. Dr. Jane was out of town for the day, so it couldn’t be her. Probably just someone wanting to reserve a book.
How dare they interrupt her thought processes? What the hell did they think this was, a library or something? She closed her door with a sigh and went around to sit at her desk.
And do her job, dammit, not think about Jack Foster.
Daphne chuckled at her own stupidity and picked up the phone. “Hello. City Library. Daphne Littlewood speaking. May I help you?”
“Oh I sure hope so, babe.”
Ohmigod. It was Jack.
He’d called!
Daphne resisted the urge to squeal and dance around the room. But it wasn’t easy. She swallowed. “Jack?”
“Yeah, it’s me, sweetheart. I just wanted to make sure you were okay today?” His voice dropped and her panties damn near fell off with it. “Not too sore or anything?”
“No, no. Not at all.” Okay. Breathy sighs weren’t good. “I’m fine. Really. Thanks for asking.” Sounding pathetic wasn’t good either. And begging him to come over right now and check things out for himself probably was inappropriate behavior for a librarian.
“I’m glad.” He paused. “No regrets? We still on for Friday?”
“Absolutely. No regrets at all. I’m looking forward to it.” And so is my crotch to judge by the state of my underwear from just thinking about it.
“Great. I just heard that the Wildwood Theater is showing Casablanca. Want to come see it with me?”
Daphne smiled. “Jack, I’m forced to point out that you have the DVD in your collection, you know.”
“Yeah. But there’s something about the theater experience. You know, popcorn, candies, soda. Necking with your girlfriend in the dark…” His voice trailed off suggestively.
Daphne’s thighs responded to the suggestion by tingling. She fidgeted. “Well, I do love that movie. And the Wildwood is a great old theater.”
Jack sighed. “It is. And I don’t know how long it will last, either. It would be a shame to see it torn down.”
Daphne sat up. “They’re going to tear it down? I didn’t hear that?”
“They’re making noises about it. Some developer wants to put a strip mall in on that site. And the Wildwood isn’t doing very well, business-wise.”
Daphne bit her lip. “Damn. I hate that bottom line thing. The Wildwood’s been around forever. My parents used to see shows there before they made it into a cinema. Great architecture too.”
“So what do you say, babe? Friday night at the Wildwood? Casablanca? Bogey and Bergman? ‘We’ll always have Paris’?”
“Yes. Oh yes, Jack. It sounds like so much fun.”
He paused. “Daphne?”
“Yes?”
“You alone right now?”
“Um…yes?”
Jack’s voice was soft over the phone. “I can smell you on my fingers, sweetheart.”
Ohmigod. Daphne gulped.
“I can still smell that sweetness I touched. If I close my eyes I can still feel you.”
“You…you can?”
His voice got even softer. “Oh yeah. Can’t you? Can’t you remember how it felt when I was touching you? Sucking those luscious nipples of yours? Licking them and tugging them ‘til they got so hard in my mouth?”
“Jaaaack…”
“I get so hard just thinking about it, Daph. And you’re not even here. But I’m still hard. I still want you. I want to be inside you right now…right this minute. Buried deep inside you.”
“Jaaaaaaaaack…”
“Do you want that too, sweetheart?”
Daphne moaned. “Dear lord, Jack. What are you doing to me?”
“I can’t tell from here, babe. You’ll have to tell me. Am I making you wet?”
“God yes…” The confession was wrung from her before she could stop herself.
“Daphne? Do something for me?” He paused. “Touch yourself.”
Ohmigod.
“Just slip your hand into your panties and tell me what you feel.”
“I…I can’t…”
“Yes you can. Do it, babe. Talk to me while you’re doing it. Give me something to help me make it ‘til Friday. Please…”
It was the growled “please” that got to Daphne. Something in his voice, some need, touched a chord inside h
er that responded with a fierce surge of arousal.
Blessing her quiet office and the closed door, Daphne surreptitiously slipped her hand into her pants, blushing like crazy but unable to stop herself.
“Okay, Jack.”
“Okay what, babe? Talk to me. Tell me what you’re feeling. Describe it.”
“Jaaaaaaack….” Daphne’s flesh tingled as she slid her hand further down, finding heat and moisture at the junction of her thighs. No kidding. She was so turned on, and this was midday. In her office, for goodness sake.
She’d heard the expression “inner slut” before, but figured it had gotten left out of her genetic makeup. Well guess what, Daphne? I’m here.
“Daphne…” Jack whispered low into the phone. Even her ear was sweating. “Talk to me, baby.”
“I’m…I’m feeling heat, Jack.”
“Me too. What else, sweetheart? You reach that soft hair of yours yet? You reach your pussy?”
She swallowed. “Yes…I feel it. Yes Jack.”
“Go on, honey. Lower. Keep going. Find that sweet spot, that place I found last night. And that place I want to taste. I want to bury my face there, sweetheart.”
Daphne’s heartbeat accelerated as she slid her hand lower, finding hot and wet folds of flesh tingling beneath her fingertips. She gasped as she found her clit, swollen and anxious to be touched.
“You found it, didn’t you? I can hear you breathing…”
“Oh my God.”
“Move your fingers, Daph. Around, up and down, the way you like…tell me.”
“I…I’m rubbing, Jack. Gently. I’m so wet…dear heavens…” Her throat closed on a choke as her breasts began to ache.
“Does it feel good? Would it feel good if it were my fingers rubbing you? Sliding through your honey? Pretend it’s me, Daph. My hand…or even better…my mouth…”
Daphne gasped at the pleasure of his words combined with her touch. She closed her eyes, letting her mind see Jack between her thighs. Oh God. If he ever put his mouth there, she’d die…of ecstasy.
“You’re getting near, aren’t you Daph?” His voice was strained now, the phone crackling slightly, as if he was moving too. “I can hear your breathing. You’re panting. You’re seeing me with my tongue on your clit. Sucking it. Loving it. Watching your eyes as I do it…”