by Jianne Carlo
Steam billowed around them, warming and caressing every tingling pore. Her lips left his, and she traced a hot, moist path up to his earlobe. His hands dropped to her waist. She wriggled.
“Uh-uh, darling.” She twirled her tongue into the whorls of his ear and whispered, “That night, when I went back to Greenbriar, I slept naked for the first time ever.”
His whole body tightened in response to her words.
“Hell, Tee.” He cupped her chin and turned her face to his.
“I closed my eyes and imagined you touching me.” She glided his hand across her belly and pressed his thumb against the pulsing pearl center cradled by slick folds. “Here. I touched myself here and pretended it was you, your fingers.”
His penis pulsed against her navel.
“Hell, I was in my hotel room,” he moaned and circled the pad of his thumb on her nubbin, pressing firmly. “Fantasizing about you, consumed with shame because I wanted my partner’s fiancée.”
“I felt so guilty because you excited me, and Tony didn’t.” She brushed her lips against his and cradled his face in her hands. “Tony never, ever made me feel the way I did that night. Then, the next day, you virtually ignored me.”
“Try to understand, my reaction to you was so violent, so out of control, I had to find some distance.”
Jake’s swirling thumb sent her eyelids down, leaving a narrow slit. She took his hand away, interlocked their fingers, and held it to the tiles by his head.
“My turn, remember.” She explored his mouth again. Her slow, drugged kisses sent sparks bursting through his veins. Climbing off his legs, Tee sat on her haunches, nipped her way down his neck, and then lathered soap onto his skin. Leaning across his body to massage his shoulders, her taut nipples brushed against the fine spray of black hair on his chest. Each scrape fed the fever between his legs.
“Did you ever touch yourself again?” He rested his head against the warm tiles, enjoying the pressure of her firm fingers on his sore muscles.
“Hmmm.” She licked her lips. Her eyes strayed to his erect nipples. Flicking hers to prancing attention, she rose off her heels and squirmed, aiming the turgid tips at each other. “Oh my.”
She did it again. “Do you like that?” Her voice came out as a croak.
“Do it a few more times so I can decide.” He grinned at her and scraped his thumb over the tight point of her other breast. “Tell me. Did you?”
The flush on her face crept down her body.
“No.” She bit her lip. “I couldn’t. Not while Tony and I were married. But after he died…” Her voice trailed off.
“I want to watch you.” He ducked his head and captured her lips. He fed on her mouth, his greed growing with every plunge of his tongue, every light bite of her lower lip. His free hand slid to her breast, and he pinched her nipple softly. “Play with this for me,” he whispered. “I want to see you.”
“I think I need a few glasses of wine before I try that.” She wouldn’t look him in the eye.
“Witchy woman, you’re still too shy.” His eyes were half-open. “We can do it together.”
She shook her head. “No. Don’t distract me. This is my turn.”
“Your show, babe.” He placed his free hand next to his ear. “Look, no hands, just don’t torture me too much longer.”
She rubbed a large bar of powder blue, musky scented soap between her hands and massaged large circles of foam onto his chest. Tracing a circle around his dark areolas with her forefinger, she mimicked his actions with her, pinching his nipples and using her fingernails, lightly abrading the stiff points.
His pectoral muscles rippled in response. She glanced up at him and flashed him a gleeful, triumphant smile.
“Your eyes are smoldering,” she said and nipped his earlobe. “They’re making me burn inside.”
Paralytic desire thrummed every nerve; his rapt gaze fused on her every motion. She dribbled water over his chest. The creamy froth ran down his taut, bronzed stomach. Taking his nipple between her teeth, she sawed the erect tip and peeked up at him.
His eyes met hers. “Bite harder.” Jake groaned and arched off the wall when she complied. “That goes straight to my cock.”
She moved over and nipped and grazed until his hips bucked against hers. Licking the water off his belly, she placed her hand underneath his shaft, and used it to elevate his engorged erection. The musky scent of his arousal strained through the soap she rubbed into his pelvis.
Tee turned her attention to his pulsing organ and snuck a look up at him. She knelt between his legs and elbowed the insides of his knees.
Jake obliged and spread his legs wider. He reached down and stroked a finger across her lower lip. For a long moment, they looked into each other’s eyes, a poignant tenderness captured in a fragment of time.
“I love you, Tee Inglefield,” he whispered.
“Oh Jake. I love you too. I’ve never felt so close to anyone, ever.” She laid her cheek against his cock and swiped her tongue along the head. “I read chapter one three times.”
He moaned. “Taste, the Long and Hard of It”?
“Have you read The Perfect Blow Job too?” Her brown eyes threatened to drown her face, guileless delight shining at him.
“No, babe, I found it on the chair at Claridge’s and read the chapter titles. The first one intrigued me, but I had more important things on my mind that night.”
His penis twitched against her cheek. The slick head flicked across her skin, leaving a trail of sticky moisture. She trailed her fingernail along the purple-pink tip showing through his foreskin and slid the skin down, exposing the thick length of him. Her tongue snaked out and twirled around the top of his shaft. She dropped her hands and picked up the soap from the bench, moistened the blue bar in the shower spray, and worked up a mound of creamy foam between her palms. Holding him tightly at the base of his cock, she spread the soap up, down, and over his smooth member.
When she lightly scraped her long fingernail under the head of his aching organ, he arched off the bench, the sensation so exciting it hurt, a poignant pain-pleasure. A thin sheen of perspiration swathed his entire body, and he groaned out her name.
He opened his eyes when he felt the soothing stream of water dripping over him. Tee wet her lips and licked the water off the top of his penis as if she were slurping ice cream off a cone. Her breathy whimpers sounded as if she thought he tasted like silken dark chocolate Häagen-Dazs.
Her enjoyment showed in the rapt expression on her face, in the glow on her cheeks, the swift swirl of her tongue every time a creamy bead appeared at the tip, and the hunger with which she swept it into her mouth.
Her glazed amber eyes flitted up to his for a brief moment. “You taste scrumptious, darling Jake.” She spread his legs apart and pulled his thighs forward.
He slid down to the edge of the bench, his eyes glued to her lips brushing down his groin.
She cradled his bollocks in her hands. When they contracted in her palms, she grinned. “They move,” she whispered and rolled them experimentally.
Jake moaned and shifted lower on the seat, giving her more access. She leaned forward and gently sucked one into her mouth. Her tongue lingered around the circumference. His testicle grew hot and heavy and tightened immediately.
“No more, babe,” he growled and tangled his hands in her hair. “No more.”
She let it slide out of her mouth and murmured, “Have to do the other one.”
Shaking his hands off her head, she repeated the process on the other testicle. Her thumb pressed against the flat, hard skin behind his balls.
“Tee, stop. Now!” He barked out the command.
She reluctantly allowed his flesh to slip away, but her eyes remained fixed on his groin.
“Come here, Tee mine.” He pulled her up his body and spread her legs on either side of his. “Let’s go for a ride, witchy woman. Mount me.”
She positioned her center over the throbbing ruby head of his cock. T
he first inch of penetration triggered a wild, orgasmic wave of ecstasy. She leaned her hands on his belly and collapsed down his shaft.
Jake watched her come, knowing he would succumb to her contracting heat within seconds. Her eyelids descended slowly, her breasts heaved with each shuddering internal convulsion, and her hair curled around the undersides of her firm, flushed bosom. The erotic sight drove him off the chart.
He grabbed her hips in his hands and showed her the rhythm he craved, lifting her up and down his length, plunging into her hot, tight silk. In, out, withdraw, retreat, over and over again, his pace intensified furiously as his climax exploded through every vein, every pore.
Her inner muscles spasmed, clenching him. Quivers strung through her, and she collapsed against his chest. Jake drew her closer, and her breasts slipped along his slick skin. He hugged her loosely, too drained to do anything else.
Sometime later, he awoke, surprised to find them still on the shower bench, and snickered at their position. A bed seemed too normal for them. The shower stall smelled of intercourse, an erotic, arousing, yet languid aroma. His prick didn’t seem to recognize orgasm as satiation and thickened as he inhaled the musky smell of sex, stretching her and signaling her awake. She looked up at him and mewled. No other word could describe her breathy purr.
Tracing a forefinger around the outline of her mouth, he forced his expression to remain neutral although his heart leapfrogged in his chest, and his pulse stammered a wild tattoo in his ears.
“Tee,” he whispered.
She folded her hands on his torso and rested her chin on them. “Jake?” she whispered back.
“Marry me?” His breath caught in his throat.
“What?” She pushed against him. Her startled, wide eyes overwhelmed every other feature. “What did you say?”
He felt the rigidity of her stiff arms on his chest.
“Will you marry me, Tee Inglefield?” He drowned in the glistening pool of her misty, tawny eyes.
A slow, sultry smile crept over her mouth. The light in her face shone more brilliantly than the brightest star on a pitch-black, crisp, clear country night.
“Oh yes, Jake. Yes, yes, yes.” Tee scrambled up his body and threw her arms around his neck. She nipped a blur of kisses on his neck, his face, and his eyelids.
Jake managed to breathe again. He whispered, “Thank God,” and leaned his forehead against hers for a split second. He scooped her up and wobbled over to the bed, drunk as a skunk on her, on their future, on love.
Love was never supposed to happen to him, but it had. He felt young again, the thrill of new beginnings coursed, brimming hope, excitement, delight, utter joy. And she returned the emotions threefold in eyes so luminous they could light the darkest gloom.
He slid her down his body, wrapped the conjured fluffy green towels around her, and set her on the bed.
“The towels?” He arched one eyebrow.
“I remembered somewhere along the line.” She dipped her chin.
“My sweet witch, conjure anything you like. I’ll never complain, but be forewarned, I can get used to expecting small luxuries.” He kissed the tip of her nose.
“It won’t bother you at all? My powers?” The naked worry in her eyes lit a burning in his chest.
“I have an Elfish princess as a parent.” He couldn’t get his tongue comfortably around the word mother. “I have a weakness for the English Quality Street chocolates. Keep me supplied, and I’ll reward you any way you like.” He waggled his eyebrows. “The witch thing is part of you, and I love you because of it, not in spite of it. Got that?”
“It might take a while to sink in,” she said. “I may need you to say that regularly.”
“Hourly? Daily?” Elation and contentment proved more powerful drugs than any on the pharmaceutical market, legal or otherwise. “You just agreed to be my wife. Damn, I love the sound of that.” A silly, adolescent grin assailed his mouth.
“I am the luckiest woman in the world,” she said and rained kisses over his face.
Together they lay on the bed, entwined in each other’s arms, whispering, caressing, and planning. Time flew by. The sun’s light began to wane. Shadows darkened the far corner of the room. Tee’s stomach rumbled.
“The last time you ate would have been breakfast yesterday. Shall we find you some food?” He smiled.
She nodded. Donning clothing occupied at least another half an hour, amidst much giggling on her part and fickle tickling on Jake’s. During a flirty tussle, the emergency kit fell off the table. It sobered the moment.
“I have to check with Alex.” He stuck his head out the window. “What time do you think it is?
“Near dusk maybe?” She scrunched her nose. “I can’t really tell without a watch.”
“We arranged to meet at Claridge’s around now.” He pecked the top of her nose.
A knock sounded on the door.
“Jamie,” his mother’s lilting voice called out.
“My mother,” he mouthed.
The look of wild panic on Tee’s face made Jake of chuckle. Her eyes darted wildly across the room as if she searched for a place to hide. He opened the door and beckoned his mother inside.
“This must be Tee.” Elaine’s smile lit up the dim dusk light in the room. “I’ve brought you a dress for the feast tonight.” She offered Tee a long navy length of cloth. “I’m Elaine, sweetling, Jamie’s mother.”
Her gaze swiveled from Elaine to Jake.
“My mother named me Jamie,” he explained.
“Jamie Michael Ferguson.” Elaine beamed, the delicate skin on her forehead puckered. “I must admit, I do prefer it to this Jake Jamie seems to like. Perhaps you can help me persuade him otherwise.” She linked her arms with Tee and kissed her on the cheek. “Welcome to the family, Daughter. Jamie, my love, I’m stealing your Tee until the evening meal is ready.” Elaine started forward. “We’ll see you later.”
Jake grinned at Tee’s bemused expression. He glanced at the trunk, sighed, and picked it up.
Connect the Dots
The Fergusons proved an intimidating, overwhelming family. Tee’d spent the last two hours with Elaine and her daughter, Helen. When Jake’s twin, Stephen, and his father, Kieran, joined them, her confusion increased tenfold. She studied Stephen’s features, searching for differences between the men.
Identical features, each line, each plane, each angle mirrored the other’s, but Stephen’s gestures, expressions, manner, his whole personality appeared opposite to Jake’s. Gregarious, open, and relaxed in the company of others, he provided a stark contrast to his twin’s stoic reserve, Jake’s determined aloofness.
Stephen’s upbringing, raised in a loving, secure environment with others to rely on, forged his character. A born leader, he gravitated to his people and seemed to know intimate details about each individual, asking pertinent questions and inspiring shared confidences. Jake, on the other hand, had always fended for himself and could rely only on his own abilities to scrape out a future. It made him guarded, distrustful, cynical.
Elaine told Tee about her special talent, the gift of the knowing, from Themis, Goddess of Justice, Prophecy, and Oaths. She explained her first touch of a creature told her of its balance of good and evil. Some people she knew past and present all at once. For others, she knew the parts they knew, their surface thoughts, but memories hidden to protect injuries to the soul remained unclear to her.
She spoke about Jake’s gift, his visions similar to Douglas’s, but limited because he was half-mortal, half-elf. Tee hid her surprise and tried to suppress the ache in her chest. It had taken courage to bare her powers to him. Why hadn’t he trusted her with his secret? Would he ever let her see all of him?
Elaine gave her an Elfish scroll written in a language Tee’d never seen before, although the first three phrases seemed vaguely familiar. Grateful for the distraction, she focused on the peculiar lettering.
“It’s the same thing that’s carved on the bottom of th
e trunk,” she said, squinting to make out the individual letters.
“I know you have a gift for different tongues, sweetling. Study the scroll, and learn its secrets.”
“You don’t know what this means?” Tee waved a hand at the scroll.
“Nay, Daughter, I know not this language, but Douglas knew it was for you.”
“Why didn’t he give it to me?”
“I do not know. Douglas’s sense of time is not like ours, with definite points we call dates and times. He sees and knows the world as a whole, beginning, end, and rebirth, and the repeating eternal circle. Strive as I do, he has never been able to make me see the whole. Perhaps this may help you.”
“Will I see you again?”
“Aye, Daughter, many happy visits, but you must come here. I cannot visit until we find a way to overcome my curse.”
“You’re cursed?” Tee couldn’t keep a straight thought in her head. As soon as she absorbed some new, astonishing fact, another one battered and beguiled her senses. She rolled the scroll into a tight cylinder and re-tied the ribbon securing the onionskin paper.
“I am restricted to this time, this land. But, enough about that, your time here is soon to end, and I learned your secret, my love, when I kissed your cheek. Promise you will bring my granddaughter to see me as soon as she can travel.”
“Granddaughter?”
Elaine nodded.
“I’m pregnant?” Tee circled her palm on her tummy, she held her breath, and her heart threatened to leap out of her chest.
“Aye, life grows within your womb. My Jamie will be so pleased, but terrified too. Be patient with him, Tallulah. He is only now believing in his own talent. Instead of nurturing his gift, he denies it often. You must needs help him, Daughter. Exercise patience with my son.”
Enchanted, bewildered, and filled with joy, Tee couldn’t prevent the silly grin that captured her lips. Visions of pink booties and tiny cotton nighties hop scotched across her pupils.
A young girl offering to fill her goblet with wine interrupted her mental meandering and Tee forced her mind to the present, drinking in the extended family atmosphere of the hall and the head table. She snickered as someone sang a naughty limerick, and broke into laughter as two men bantered back and forth other shouting wicked double entendres.