She gulped at his use of the words ‘our future’ but didn’t want hope to get the best of her. Maybe he hadn’t meant to say it like it was a foregone conclusion that they would be together in the future. “But no more wives, right?”
“No more wives, though I should probably tell you that the one you were so unfortunate to meet the other night is still around and looking to extort some money from me.”
Jessie raised a speculative eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“Well, now that I want a divorce, she thinks it’s time to negotiate for my release. She wants me to pay her a huge amount of money to sign the papers.”
“How much is a huge amount?”
“Ten million dollars.”
“You’re kidding me!” Jessie choked out. “You don’t have that kind of money, do you?” She seemed more horrified by the thought rather than excited.
“Me personally, no, but Kerry knows how much my grandmother is worth, and wants me to hit the old girl up for the mother of all loans.”
“You’re not going to pay her off, are you? That seems ridiculous.”
“If I want to get rid of her, I have no choice.”
“There must be another way.”
“Hey, I’m open to suggestions. It doesn’t do much for my ego to hear that my wife feels entitled to ten million dollars for putting up with me for ten years.”
“You’re right, she should have asked for more,” Jessie said, smiling teasingly at him.
“If you’re making fun of me, that must mean we’re okay. Are we, Jess?” He asked, pulling her toward him with a wicked smile.
Instead of answering she sighed against his mouth as he leaned down to kiss her. His lips were more than okay as she kissed him back.
“Answer me,” he said after a minute, tickling her ribs a bit as he lifted her onto his lap. She attempted to squirm away, but he held her tightly, nuzzling his rough evening beard against her soft cheek. She squealed, but still wouldn’t answer, so he leaned her back until she was about to fall straight back onto the rust-colored cobblestones behind her.
“Okay,” she screamed, oblivious to the startled old lady walking her Pomeranian a few feet away. “We’re okay, just don’t drop me,” she said, breathlessly.
“Never,” he said, pulling her back up to him. He kissed her until she was squirming in his lap again, but this time in desire. He looked at her for a moment very seriously. “I won’t ever drop you, Jessie. I swear.”
Hypnotized by the intense look in his eyes, Jessie touched his face, and said, “I know you won’t.”
He nodded and then reached down to squeeze one of Jessie’s denim-clad buttocks playfully. “I seem to recall saying something to you about what would happen if you ever wore jeans in front of me again. Do you happen to remember what that was?” He asked, mock seriously, raising one thick black eyebrow suggestively as he lifted her into his arms and carried her toward his apartment building.
Chapter 25
An hour later, Jessie was in heaven. Not literally, but close enough. She was stretched out lengthwise on Duncan’s huge bed, with just a sheet over her bottom half, while Duncan sat on the edge and massaged some kind of silky, sweet-smelling lotion into the tight muscles of her back and neck. He’d borrowed the bottle from Theresa’s bathroom, and it smelled like apricots and freshly-cut grass. Jessie thought about asking what the name of the lotion was, but she couldn’t summon up the energy. His large hands felt so good kneading her flesh, all she could do was sigh and moan occasionally. Actual words were completely beyond her.
Their flight to his bed was interrupted by the fact that Duncan had run out of the apartment without his keys. They’d been forced to track down the nosy superintendent, Ted, to be let in. Duncan had wanted to try to break in through the roof, but Jessie had talked him into trying the less insane approach first, and he’d actually given in despite his misgivings. He didn’t want the gossip-mongering superintendent to report to the rest of the building that Duncan was being visited by two very different women just a week apart.
He didn’t relish the idea of his neighbors whispering about his visitors. He could just see the disdainful look of the old ladies in the elevator if it got around that he had both a blonde and a red-head sleeping in his apartment, with a brunette claiming to be his wife, making the occasional midnight house calls. He’d be facing the cold shoulder ever time he stuck his head out of his apartment in no time.
Under his hands, Jessie muscles eventually began to loosen and become pliable. She was a very tense person—her back incredibly stiff and unyielding. She didn’t cringe from his impersonal touch, but she seemed confused by it, like she couldn’t understand why he’d want to touch her unless it was sexual. At first, she had been very reluctant to let him massage her, preferring instead to return his caresses, but he’d been insistent, and eventually she’d allowed him to stroke her neck while she sat in front of him with her hands firmly in her lap. From there it hadn’t taken long to convince her to strip and let him continue his ministrations on her shoulders and back.
Duncan had discovered massage a year ago when he’d dislocated his shoulder in a tussle with an extremely obese, suspected child molester. After the initial injury had healed, he’d still experienced some stiffness in the joint and Kevin had recommended a massage therapist. Duncan had been reluctant, unsure what to expect, especially knowing Kevin’s taste for women.
In Duncan’s line of work, he’d encountered some rather sleazy ‘full-release’ massage parlors, and despite his two years of abstinence he had no desire to visit an establishment like that. Kevin had reassured him with a laugh that a massage therapist was something very different from the girls who worked in the parlors. Massage Therapists were licensed for one thing, he’d said, and required at least two years of training for another. Still, Duncan imagined some tiny oriental girl walking on his back or a giant blond man pounding on his naked flesh enthusiastically with ham-fists.
As the tenderness in his shoulder persisted, he’d finally taken Kevin’s advice and visited the office of the woman he’d recommended. Gladys, the Massage Therapist, was hardly what he’d imagined. She was in her late forties with a loud laugh and short salt and pepper hair, and she’d quickly had him sending Kevin a case of champagne in gratitude. Six months later, his shoulder was healed, but he still visited Gladys weekly. Until meeting Jessie, massage had been pretty much his only recreation, and he wanted to share it with her.
He’d never been aroused by Gladys, not even remotely, but ever since his first massage he’d secretly thought about how great it would be to explore massage with a woman. Not just as foreplay, but as a way of giving pleasure to one another, and enjoying each other. Since he’d met Jessie, he’d been dying to try it out on her.
Looking down at the pale, smooth flesh of her back he thought he might have made a mistake. Her skin was so fair, even this late in the summer; he could see the faint tracing of veins under her skin and the elegant bones of her shoulders and ribcage. She was so delicate and feminine. He ran both hands down her back, and found that he could easily span her waist with his dark hands. The temptation to slip those hands downward under the sheet and cup her curvy ass was almost more than he could stand.
He’d planned to do this for at least a half-hour, until she was completely relaxed and tranquil from the pleasure, but ten minutes into the massage he was aching with desire for her. Knowing that she was naked under the sheet was driving him wild to possess her, despite his pure intentions. Worst of all, her small sighs and moans of pleasure seemed to be whispering along his nerves directly to his cock, which was already hard and twitching with eagerness to proceed to some serious foreplay.
“Oh God.” Oblivious to Duncan’s struggle, Jessie sighed into the pillow as he dug his blunt fingers into her lower back again. “That is so good.” Her voice was muffled, but very husky, just like when they’d made love.
Duncan closed his eyes and swallowed. He couldn’t take much more
of this. He kept his eyes closed and tried to concentrate on his hands, finding the spots on her back and neck that were tight with tension.
Drops of perspiration broke out on his forehead as he tried to keep his mind clear of lascivious thoughts. Breathing deeply to calm himself, he opened his eyes and noticed that the sheet had eased down her body to expose one of the perfect, round cheeks of Jessie’s ass. He hadn’t moved the sheet. Had Jessie done it? He closed his eyes tightly, but the image of her sweet bottom seemed to be imprinted on the inside of his eyelids. He opened one eye. Nope, he hadn’t imagined it. There was a large, black beauty mark the size of his smallest fingernail on the fullest portion of her bottom. He was completely charmed by that small imperfection, hypnotized by it.
“Jess, are you aware that you have what appears to be a bull’s eye on your ass?” he asked with a grin, gliding his slick fingers down to her bottom until he touched the mark.
Roused from euphoria, it took Jessie a second to realize what he was talking about. “Bull’s eye?” She asked in a puzzled voice, raising her head slightly to look down over her shoulder. Then her entire body went stiff, and she jerked her arm down to pull the covers up to cover the offending mark. “I forgot about it,” she mumbled into the pillow. “Don’t be grossed out, okay?”
Duncan laughed, but stopped immediately when she turned to glare at him. “What kind of moron would be grossed out by something like that?” He tried to pull down the sheet to take another look but she had a death grip on it.
“Elvin Preston,” she said through gritted teeth, looking straight ahead.
“Who the hell is Elvin Preston?” He asked, trying not to let his amusement leak into his voice.
“Elvin Preston is the boy who told everyone in our swimming class that I had a dead fly on my butt,” she said, turning her head to look at him reproachfully.
Duncan couldn’t help it; he started laughing. “When was this exactly?” He asked between chuckles.
Careful to keep her sheet in place, Jessie got up on her knees, and punched him hard in the shoulder.
“Ouch,” he said, but continued to laugh.
“Grade three, and it’s not funny,” she said, exasperated with him. “I’ve worn shorts over my bathing suit ever since, just in case my bottoms ride up.”
Duncan stopped laughing, but the smile never completely left his face. “Jess, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have laughed, but it’s just ridiculous that you’d feel embarrassed about it. You’re hardly the elephant man.” She looked at him doubtfully. “C’mon,” he said, trying to look innocent. “Lie back down and I’ll finish your massage.”
Jessie was torn between wanting to continue the bliss of feeling his hands on her, and leaving her most embarrassing physical imperfection somewhat vulnerable to his perusal. The bliss won out and she laid back down on her front, carefully arranging the sheet to cover her bottom. She’d exposed it in the first place, trying to entice him, but had somehow managed to forget about the mark. She hadn’t looked at it in so long, it had completely slipped her mind until Duncan had mentioned it.
She sighed as Duncan began kneading her back again. Within minutes she was oblivious to everything but the slide of his hands. She felt the shift of the bed as he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss on her shoulder.
“Your skin is so soft,” he murmured huskily against her back, sliding his mouth lower to the top of one shoulder blade. “Like warm silk.” His lips were feather soft as he kissed his way slowly down her back, tracing the knobs of her spine with his tongue while sliding his hands up and down her back. She’d had no idea that her back was so sensitive, but she quickly found herself breathing heavily and pressing her aroused nipples into the comforter to ease some of the tension the touch of his mouth was causing.
Jessie groaned throatily when he kissed the small of her back and tried to roll over but Duncan wouldn’t let her. He continued his journey downward, pushing the sheet ahead of him with one hand. Jessie began to stiffen when she realized his plan, but he just soothed her with his hands and pressed a kiss to the beauty mark that had caused her so much embarrassment.
“See,” he said softly, kissing it again, “there’s nothing to be ashamed of. I love this beauty mark. In fact, it’s a beauty of a beauty mark.” She grinned at his corniness, but didn’t try to move away. She just turned her head so she could look at him as he rested his chin on her bottom. He smiled back at her and traced a little pattern on her bottom. “Tomorrow we’re going to go out and buy you a thong bikini.”
Jessie shook her head. There was no way she was wearing anything like that publicly.
Duncan continued. “And just as an experiment you should wear it to the beach. In a week, I’ll bet the tattoo parlors will be overrun with women wanting this exact mark.”
Jessie couldn’t help it, she laughed. He was so ridiculous. As if women would want to have a bull’s eye on their bottoms. “You’re crazy,” she said, shaking her head at him in amusement.
He almost said, ‘Crazy about you,’ but he caught himself before the words were out. He just couldn’t put his emotions out there yet. She needed more time to trust him before he revealed his true feelings for her. So instead he went for the light approach. Schooling his features into a leer, he ripped off the sheet completely and said, “Or you could just wear the bikini out on the balcony, and just give the pigeons, Hannibal and myself a private showing.”
Jessie giggled as he kissed his way up her back until he was lying on top of her, still completely clothed, and gently bit the back of her neck. He was just reaching underneath her to cup her breasts when the cell phone rang from the night table.
“Don’t answer it,” she groaned into the pillow, wiggling her bottom against the prominent ridge in his jeans.
He kissed her back one last time and lifted his body away from hers regretfully. “I have to,” he said with a sigh. “It might be Theresa. I told her to call if she couldn’t find a cab right away.” He sat on the far edge of the bed, and picked up the phone, wrapping one strong hand around Jessie’s ankle to keep her from escaping. He turned to grin at Jessie, but his playful expression changed to one of horror as he heard the voice of his grandmother come from the phone.
“Duncan,” Evelyn said imperiously, “where have you been? I’ve been trying to speak to you directly for the past two weeks.”
Damn, Duncan thought loosening his hold on Jessie’s ankle and turning his back to her. He’d been expecting Theresa’s call, so hadn’t checked the caller I.D when he’d picked up. “I’m sorry, grandmother. Didn’t you get my messages?”
“Yes, I received your messages,” she snapped. “All thirteen monumentally unenlightening reports, conveniently placed after midnight, when you know I’ve gone to bed and instructed the servants not to disturb me.”
“Oh. That’s right. I must have forgotten about the time zone difference.”
Evelyn’s voice was as sharp as shards of broken glass. “Duncan. I am not an idiot, and neither are you, despite your actions that would seem to indicate otherwise. It is quite apparent that you have been avoiding me.” Before Duncan could protest, she continued, “Now, why don’t you tell me exactly why you haven’t found Theresa yet? You are a detective, aren’t you? This is your job, I believe, detecting things, isn’t it?”
Inwardly, Duncan seethed. Now would be the ideal time to tell his grandmother about Theresa, but her condescending tone stopped him. “It’s like I said in my messages: no sign of her. Maybe she’s still in Calgary,” he said slowly.
There was silence on the other end. Idly, Duncan was aware of Jessie moving around behind him, but he was too focused on his phone conversation to really pay attention to what she was doing.
Finally, Evelyn said, “I see. So you haven’t seen her? At all?”
Relieved, Duncan answered quickly. “Nope, like I said, I’ve shown her picture everywhere and no one has seen her. A few weeks ago I thought I had a lead, but it went nowhere.” Duncan was a poor liar, b
ut he knew enough to add some truthful details. As an afterthought, he added. “I’ll keep looking though.”
“See that you do,” Evelyn said briskly. “I’ll expect a personal account of your search every three days from now on, until you find her.”
“Fine,” he said shortly, “I’ll talk to you in three days then.” The line went dead and Duncan stared at the phone in his hand. Nothing had changed. His grandmother still had the power to reduce him to feeling like a child, a rather disappointing one at that.
Setting down the phone, he turned back to Jessie. He’d expected her to be lounging Cleopatra-style on his bed, listening to his conversation, and waiting impatiently for him to return his attention to her, but she wasn’t. Instead she was urgently doing up the buttons of her white, mannish blouse and glaring at him like he was vermin.
“Jessie, what’s wrong? Where are you going?” He asked, shocked at the disgusted look in her eyes.
“I’m leaving.” She said through clenched teeth, leaning over the bed to search for the tortoishell barrette he’d taken out of her hair earlier. Snatching it up, she turned and walked to the bedroom doors.
“Jessie, wait. What are you pissed off about now?” Duncan asked impatiently, jumping off the bed and following her to the door.
She swung around with blazing cinnamon eyes. “Why am I pissed off? How can you ask me that? Didn’t you say just an hour ago that you were going to be honest with me from now on?”
Duncan quickly replayed the past five minutes over in his head. He hadn’t lied to Jessie, but his grandmother was another story entirely. Was that it? Jessie was mad because he’d lied to his grandmother? Then it hit him. Man, how could he have been so stupid? He’d spoken softly, but Jessie couldn’t have avoided cluing together the fact that he was hiding Theresa from their grandmother. Shit, why hadn’t he checked the caller I.D. or taken the call in the bathroom?
“Jess, please don’t leave. You promised you wouldn’t be so quick to believe the worst about me, remember?”
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