Loving Jilly

by Sylvie Kaye

  Even Aunt Gloria had stopped “hrrmp-ing” around him. After all Zack's time came free. He jabbed at the shingles with his awl randomly as he rounded the building.

  Saturday, he promised to take the ladies across town to place a few off-track bets. Their friend, Hannah, was especially excited. Aunt Vinny and Aunt Adele were saving up to wager twenty bucks each. Aunt Gloria hid her purse.

  In return, Aunt Vinny promised to show him the family albums after dinner tonight. He grinned. Maybe he'd get a bare-ass glimpse of Jilly as a baby.

  Lately, he hadn't seen much of her. She went right from her preschool job to the school library and classes. When she got home, he and the aunts sat and chatted with her for the few minutes it took her to eat. If she arrived really late, after ten o'clock, which was the aunts’ bedtime, Zack got the rare chance to talk to Jilly alone.

  That's when she told him about her classmates, who were mostly younger, and about her quirky business communication teacher, and about the kids at the preschool center.

  "I caught Molly and Henry playing hide-and-seek in the closet again. Except they were both in there together. K-i-s-s-i-n-g,” she spelled it in singsong like kids did.

  "Henre-eee's come a long way.” Zack chuckled.

  "So has Zachare-eee.” Jilly leaned across the table and planted a kiss to his lips.

  So had Jilly. He felt he was winning her trust a little at a time with every chore he performed and every chat and piece of personal information they shared. Besides recounting what he and her aunts did, he told her about his cousin Bob's latest escapades and Bob's plans for Alaska, and the ever-unforeseen delays at the site, and the constant phone calls from his father.

  On occasion when he'd heard from home, he told her that, too. “Mom's breaking par at the Country Club golf course and serving as president for the volunteers at the local children's hospital.” All of which, Zack noted, kept her out of Big Al's domain.

  "How's Stan?” Jilly asked.

  "He sounds ready to take on the out-of-state project in Texas just to get out from under the steady pressure of working with my father. For his sake, I hope he does."

  She listened and sympathized. Jilly had such a kind heart.

  Zack finished inspecting the four sides of the house. Structurally, it seemed sound. When he scooted upstairs and knocked on the door, Aunt Vinny grabbed his arm and hurried him inside. “Wait until I tell you what happened to Sister Maria Louisa. While she was walking to mass with her friend an ambulance went screaming by and stopped right in front of the stained glass entrance to the church. Sister Maria Louisa's friend pinched her nose and held her breath, but the ambulance came and went with no dog in sight."

  "Uh-huh.” Zack nodded, clueless.

  "Eventually, the friend passed out, but Sister Maria Louisa slapped her and she came to."

  "So the ambulance didn't have to come back?” Zack still didn't get it.

  Aunt Vinny shook her head. “No. Otherwise the poor dear would've pinched her nose and passed out all over again."

  "Oh, so she pinches her nose whenever she sees an ambulance.” Maybe he was starting to understand. “But what does the dog have to do with it?"

  "You see, she had the rhyme wrong. It was touch instead of pinch when you see an ambulance. Touch your nose until you see a dog, so you don't end up in one of those."

  "I hope someone straightened her out."

  "Sister Maria Louisa did right after communion. Although, if Cousin Lawrence who lives nearby had happened to stroll by, it might've helped. He's been known to be quite a dog."

  Zack wondered if Lawrence was dead or alive.

  "Don't tell me you're telling that awful tale again.” Aunt Gloria's high pitch rang out.

  "Zachary insisted,” Aunt Vinny said.

  "Adele sent me to announce that dinner is ready."

  "No bell?” Zack asked.

  She pointed to the end table where the crystal bell lay-in- state. “The bell cracked. The glue hasn't dried yet."

  And wouldn't for many days from the amount of liquid cement holding the thing together.

  But the aunts’ spirits weren't shattered. Dinner was delicious and entertaining. They told a tabloid of stories about dozens of relatives. When each of the three aunts added her individual take on an event, the tale became even more eventful.

  "Time for the photo albums,” Aunt Vinny said after a dessert of cherry clafouti that tasted strongly of cognac.

  "You two go along.” Aunt Gloria waved them off. “I'll help Adele clean up in the kitchen."

  Once Zack settled onto the sofa next to Aunt Vinny, they pored over baby pictures of Mama, Papa, the aunts, and eventually Jilly. “What a cute baby, even bald.” He laughed.

  Until Aunt Vinny wiped the laughter from his lips. Soon as she turned to the first page in the big, blue suede album, Zack felt the color drain from his face. And then from the rest of him, right down to his fingernails which had turned white.

  "This is Harry, my suitor.” Aunt Vinny sighed. “Do you think if I still had the ring, that my miserly sister Gloria would stop harping about our finances? Would Jilly still want to live with us if we were financially stable or would she strike out on her own, maybe put us in a home?"

  "She might,” he said absently about Jilly leaving home, but his eyes were glued to Harry, like a person horrified but unable to look away from an accident. The point was moot anyway because the ring was gone.

  So was Harry, the drunkard from The Incident, who was all dressed up with only one place left to go. Heaven, or perhaps lower to hear Aunt Gloria tell it. The sap was stretched out in his pine box, deader than a doornail, in a three-by-four snapshot for everyone to see for all time.

  "There are more.” Aunt Vinny smiled sweetly while she flipped the page on Harry.

  To Zack's shock, there were more stiffs in satin-lined boxes. He jumped up. “I, I just remembered I have a fax to take care of.” Then he muttered, “Good night,” dashing off, forgetting his toolbox, and leaving it behind rather than go back upstairs for it.

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  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Jilly flopped onto her bed, scattering a pile of books and papers across the pink coverlet. Once she got her degree, life was sure to change for the better.

  Everything in her life but Zack. Much as she fought it, she was growing used to having him around. Heck, face it, she liked having him around. Maybe loved having him around—for everything from simply talking to making out. Or was it making love? Didn't matter, falling for him wasn't an option. He'd be leaving New Orleans as soon as the hotel reconstruction was complete. She pushed the thought away, missing him already.

  She gathered up the scattered papers. She had books to crack. But before she could wrap her hands around her managerial accounting notes, the door to her bedroom crashed open.

  "Surprise,” Eric and Ken yelled in unison.

  "So this is the pink room,” Ken murmured, looking wide-eyed and pale. “Gives new meaning to think pink."

  "We're not here to redecorate or think.” Eric zeroed in on Jilly, yanking her up from her pink bed by her arm.

  "Why are you here?"

  "Because our Jilly has a date with the brawny man.” Ken pushed her toward the closet.

  "I do?"

  "Yes. A little R & R during midterms relieves stress,” Eric said.

  "A lot of studying helps more.” Jilly dug her heels into the carpet.

  Eric took over from Ken and pried her loose. “Trust your tutor on this."

  "I really shouldn't, but...” She gave in, partly because Eric might be right and partly because she missed spending alone time with Zack.

  "Let see what's suitable on your part.” Ken peered into her closet. “My restaurant will take care of the dinner part."

  An hour later The Tarnished Angel did. Dinner was superb. So was her companion.

  But Jilly's stomach rumbled with a hunger to get Zack completely alone. It had been a long while since they'
d been together in any position other than upright. With midterms coming up, his special brand of tension busting might be exactly what she needed.

  "Relaxed?” Nudging the white rose centerpiece aside, he reached for her hand across the linen tablecloth.

  With a zap, her bones melted and time froze. Feeling warm and fuzzy, she basked in the grayness of his eyes and the caress of his secure hold for a long moment before she fought off the sweet sensations in favor of more physical, sexual ones. They were easier to deal with than the loving, caring ones invading the stillness.

  Jilly rubbed her thumb over his work-scarred knuckles. No matter how many lusty suggestions her body sent to stir her into action, he would have to initiate the sexual advances since his rejection at the house on the bayou.

  "Where to next?” His eyes darkened, giving off smoky signals.

  Still she waited him out, hard as it was. But her pride couldn't take it if he turned her down again. This had to be his doing or nothing.

  "My place?” he asked.

  "Very relaxing atmosphere as I recall.” She tried to remember something about her visit to his room that didn't include moans or orgasms. “Your meditation chimes and aromatic candles were ever so calming."

  "You remember.” A wide grin cracked his lips.

  She was surprised that such a little thing pleased him.

  Zack wasted no time in settling the bill and driving them to his hotel. Soon Jilly perched on the edge of his bed, while he lit a sandalwood-scented candle and slid a CD of romantic piano music instead of tranquil chimes into his portable player.

  He sat down next to her and massaged her neck with his capable hands, his strong fingers manipulating her tight muscles.

  "Mmm.” In a flash, he had her purring like the engine in Oscar's Saab. She rolled her head forward and leaned back against his broad chest.

  "How's that?"

  "Those carpenter's hands are great for fixing just about everything,” she mumbled.

  "Glad you finally noticed.” His voice sounded sandpapery. Sexy.

  Her skin quivered beneath his palms, and she yearned for more than a neck rub. Tension hummed through other parts of her body, begging for release.

  "I have a few massage oils,” he said as his strong but gentle fingers worked their magic on her corded muscles. With a kiss to her neck, he went to the dresser and slid open the top drawer. “Basil's stimulating.” He removed the bottle, setting it atop.

  She shook her head. Zack was stimulating all on his own.

  "Bergamot is romantic."

  Nope, she was leaving her heart out of this.

  "Cinnamon bark boosts sexual urges.” He raised a brow.

  "Let's try that one.” Her urges didn't need any help, but a good whiff could push him over the edge and end his ban on sex.

  "You'll have to remove your top,” he said. “The oil stains."

  She grinned. Just holding the bottle was giving him a boost in the right direction already.

  When he sat on the bed, he coaxed her up, which didn't take much urging. Wedging her between his knees, he rested his hands on her hips. His mouth hovered near the exposed cleavage where her blouse scooped in front. As his heated breath flamed her skin, she slipped the buttons open to the soft strains of the piano on the CD.

  "I'd hate to ruin your clothing with the oil,” he explained while she finished unbuttoning and he peeled the material away from her shoulders.

  "Or my underclothing.” She unsnapped the front hook of her lacy bra. Her breasts sprang free, daring his mouth to nuzzle them.

  "You smell so good,” he croaked. Leaning forward, he touched his lips to the soft flesh of first one breast and then the other. She cradled his head and ran her fingers through his hair, moaning when his moist lips grazed a nipple.

  After he circled and teased both nipples, he finally licked at one nub. With each flick of his tongue, her desire built. She stroked his ears and his lobes, expressing her wordless thanks with the arch of her back.

  Cool air replaced his hot lips all too soon. “Don't stop,” she murmured.

  "Only for now.” He worked the buttons open on his own shirt.

  "We wouldn't want oil to ruin the blue cotton.” She helped him shrug out of the sleeves. “Or your khaki slacks.” She waited.

  He got the hint and stood up. In no time, his pants were unsnapped, unzipped, and hit the carpet next to his shirt.

  She stepped closer. “What about your boxer shorts?” She toyed with the elastic waist, running her index finger back and forth from hip to hip until he shivered. When she knelt in front of him and shimmied his shorts down, his arousal sprang loose, hard and tempting. She stared up at him, sucking in her bottom lip.

  He knelt in front of her, helping her up. Once he stripped off her panties, he lifted her in his strong arms and placed her onto the bed. “Let's start with your back. Roll over."

  Like an obedient pup, or more like a love-starved one, she rolled onto her belly. She anticipated the feel of his strong hands, slick and sensual. She heard the slight friction as he rubbed his palms together to warm the oil. Slowly, he smoothed his slippery hands over her shoulders and down her spine. The span of her back was barely the width of his broad palms.

  The pressure he applied was light but stirring. The rich fragrance smelled heady and spicy. She quivered with her want for him.

  His fingers drummed a steady rhythm over her lower spine, sending intimate promises to her favorite chakra, the sexual one.

  He applied more oil and kneaded her tight buns. The temptation to rollover became harder to resist. His hands skimmed over her thighs, outer and then inner. She closed her eyes and willed herself not to move. His pinky grazed her inner lips, and she held her breath when it lingered. She edged her thighs apart a fraction more. But he moved on.

  "Let go, Jilly,” he coaxed in a hoarse whisper. “Don't tense. Don't anticipate. Clear your mind and allow yourself to enjoy the ride."

  With a sigh, she did, letting her muscles and her mind go lax.

  "The ride's like surfing.” He rubbed her calves with long, steady, silky movements that caused heat to race up her legs. “The thrill only lasts until you reach the peak of the wave. Then it's quickly over."

  Jilly nodded. The orgasm she sought so frantically did put a quick end to things. His prolonged foreplay was intensely pleasurable. She gave her body over to him.

  With his hands roaming her naked flesh, slowing down and forgetting about sexual satisfaction wasn't easy. She concentrated hard. No, he'd said it was better not to concentrate. She let her mind drift.

  After a while, she got the knack of drifting. While his hands slid over her flesh and her body prickled with desire, she let herself float as if on a billowy cloud. Without searching for the silver lining.

  His skillful strokes soon had her soaring. A colorful rainbow flickered behind her eyelids. Still she had no desire to chase down the pot of gold on the other side—even when his mouth touched her flesh and he kissed her everywhere, his lips fiery and promising.

  Her body flamed and yet chills ran up and down her spine. She imagined herself lolling in crystal-clear water, letting the surf carry her along. For the sheer joy of the ride, without wondering if or when the wave might peak and crash. Pure pleasure washed over her when he ran his tongue along her ear and neck and slipped his fingers between her thighs, penetrating her.

  Just as she shivered with delight, he stopped and helped her roll onto her back. Kneeling in front of her on the bed, with a long sweep, he glided his fingers down her throat, her breasts, along her ribs and stomach, making her shudder with each sensuous inch he stroked.

  Her eyes remained closed, but she felt him shadowing over her, his breath warm on her face. His firm lips brushed kisses to her eyes, the tip of her nose, and her mouth. His tongue tantalized and tickled her tongue. She moaned.

  "Jilly, open your eyes,” he whispered, lifting her limber body onto his lap to straddle him as he sat back and protected himself.r />
  When she forced them open, she made immediate contact with his gleaming, intense gaze. And an even deeper contact as his face radiated warmth and caring.

  She found she felt the same toward him. For a change, she didn't shrink back from the feeling but remained receptive. Need and love shone in his eyes. She relaxed into the essence of it. A sense of rightness flooded her.

  Without breaking eye contact, they hugged, joining their hearts and their emotions. It was only natural that another joining take place.

  This time Jilly didn't hurry the wave of bliss, she rode it with him. He rubbed the engorged, sheathed head of his penis against her slit, gradually spreading her open, but not penetrating. Incredible sensations ricocheted through her, followed by a need for oneness, instead of climax.

  Zack answered her need. He entered her, slowly and wholly. Their bodies and emotions melded together.

  She squeezed her vaginal muscles, hugging him to her, tightening her arms and legs. He groaned into her mouth. With slow and intermittent muscle contractions, first hers and then his, they prolonged the sensuous ride. Passion heightened, edging her closer to the crest until they topped the wave and their orgasms carried them over.

  During the moment of release he said, “I love you, Jilly."

  She didn't analyze his words. She simply accepted them. Zack loved her. His love became a part of her.

  Without any demand to return the love, his lips smiled against hers. His eyes welcomed hers. His heartbeat danced with hers.

  His love laid her heart open. She admitted to him and to herself, “I love you, too."

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  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Zack couldn't believe how elated falling in love made him feel. He'd won Jilly's heart. She loved him; he loved her.

  Even the jab to his ribs from Eric couldn't deflate his good mood. “She's leaving for the library,” Eric muttered.

  Lugging paint cans and ladders, he, and Ken, and Eric moved through the courtyard from around the corner where they'd lurked the past fifteen minutes. As they trudged up the steps, Zack still couldn't believe Aunt Vinny had given in to the makeover. She'd been the lone holdout for the longest time.