by Treva Harte
"Of course. But did you think it necessary?"
"Maybe." Jen bit his chin lightly. "Mmm, still clean-shaven at the end of the day. How do you manage that, Jack?"
Jack took a deep breath and let it out. "Oh, to hell with it. I'm easy. Let's go to bed."
"I think that is an excellent idea." Jen agreed. "Come on."
In the bedroom he was surprised and a little amused by his formerly quiet Jen suddenly starting to take off his clothes. He liked the way she did it—as if she had a right to put her hands on any part of his body. Hell, he loved the way she did it.
As she unbuttoned his shirt, she told him, "You know, Jack, I finally had a rush of sense to the brain. I think I've figured several things out about you and me."
"Have you?"
"I've been so mad and confused the past few weeks when it seemed to me you were losing interest, or treating me like a toy that might get broken too easily—"
"What?"
"Hush. Let me just take care of this." She gently stroked his nipple as she pulled the shirt off. "But, like I said, I finally figured it out. All this withdrawn behavior of yours started after my nightmare. Now you could have been mad that I was dreaming of Victor—but that wasn't the problem, was it?"
"Jen—"
"I think it was that you thought you were scaring me and you needed to back off. Backing off, for you, including backing off in bed. Right?"
"Sort of."
"It didn't work because then I got mad because of how you acted toward me." Jen knelt before him and pulled off his shoes and socks. "For your information, I love what we do in bed together. I think I've figured out how we can avoid these little messy emotional misunderstandings, Jack. All you have to do is follow my lead. Don't try to guess what I want from you when you make love to me. If you aren't sure, just let me show you."
"That simple, huh?" Jack tried to smile through the sudden rush of excitement.
"Mmmm." She very deliberately stroked him as she pulled down his zipper. "I don't mean all the time. That could get dull. But if you are ever, ever concerned about how I might feel, just let me show you. Consider yourself my own personal sex toy. I might use you a little roughly, but I promise I won't actually break you. Don't you think you'd like it?"
"I do so far."
He particularly liked the part where she firmly pushed him so that he sprawled backwards onto the bed and she rested herself between his thighs. She leaned over him, almost touching his chest and did nothing for a moment.
Then she kissed his cheek.
"I have plans for us tonight, darling." Jen whispered to him. "Are you up for them?"
"I think I'm gettin' just about there," he drawled, and they both knew from the slur in his voice that he was entirely serious.
"Do you trust me, Jack? " she purred. "I want you to stay still. I thought about tying you up, but I think you can handle it. No matter what, I don't want you to move your arms or legs. I think you are tough enough. Enough for this—"
She began slowly, deliberately to put his arm under his head. He licked his lips as she got close.
"My fantasies are more the opposite of this, babe. I was hopin' it would be more like where I get to tie you up but…" His breath caught as she leaned over him to start pushing on the other arm and her breast brushed him. "You could try persuading me."
"You can handle it, right? A big strong guy like you?" she asked. "Yes? Well, then—" she began to strip, slowly. His breath sounded harsher but he said nothing. She knew he was watching, though, as she peeled off the dress and showed the bra with no pants to match. "Maybe I'll just stay like this for while. What do you think, Jack? Do you like it?"
His indrawn breath rasping was answer enough.
She was going to handle this. The sudden rush of confidence and lust was better than the champagne or the music before. Just what would arouse Jack the most? Jen eyed that body and caught her breath.
Hers. All hers. Now to begin.
She straddled him and began to slowly use her mouth and hands, always just almost satisfying before skittering to a new erogenous zone. She felt him buck under her as she licked his thigh. His one arm moved, but only to let his hand clutch the bedpost. He was playing the game.
Jen smiled. Well, she thought she smiled, but she also wanted to use her tongue just there—His penis tip was already wet. God knows she felt pretty wet herself.
She teased the head of his cock, pressed her tongue against the small hole there.
"Jen, you may just make me give up…a lifelong promise to myself not to ever…oh, God…ever beg—" Jen swallowed his cock and he seemed to swallow his tongue at the same time. At least Jack didn't gave her any more words. Strangled sounds didn't count as an objection. Mmmm. She could have her dessert right here.
The words "lifelong promise" recalled a little of her sanity and her plan came back to her. But it was so delicious to suck Jack into mindlessness that she had to struggle to stop. She gave him one more tongue stroke and was delighted to hear a groan and feel him buck under her again.
"Now that I have your complete attention, sir, and I do have your attention, right? No, I don't see any polite barriers at all right now—" she mounted him, felt his cock slide securely inside, and sat still. She felt him quivering but he still said nothing. "John Edmund Logan, I want to ask you something and you have to swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the tr—no, I'm in charge, no moving, no, mmm—let me do this right."
His cock stroked her clit just slightly in response. She shut her lips tight to keep from crying out. She was serious, damn it! Jen refused to respond, sitting so quietly that he finally stopped his play. His eyes were locked on hers, calculating his next move, his chest pumping up and down, his breath coming out harsh and shallow.
They both knew he was going to do something soon.
She rushed the words. "I love you. Jack, will you marry me?"
She saw his realization of what she said hit a split second after he had grabbed her arms and flipped her under him. Still not saying anything, his hand reached out, blindly, to the drawer where the condoms were kept. For an instant she felt despair. Was that his only response?
He came out with a box. A small box. The same hand flipped it open.
"Yes." He thrust up into her at the same time, half-laughing. There was no withdrawn expression on his face now. The happiness made her light up, too. "But why don't you wear this instead of me?"
"You had a ring all this time?"
"Yes and no. My father gave it to me during our visit. It was my grandmother's engagement ring."
"Jack—" Jen knew she was crying from joy, from the sexual tension he was starting in her, from pure relief. "You had this waiting here? You meant to do this?"
"God, yes, but Jen, don't talk now. I can't stop—Jen—" The bed rocked dangerously. "One more second and I would have come without you, you witch. Where the hell did you learn to do all that?"
Not Victor. Not really.
"From watching you. I'm learning everything that you like, bucko. Then I just made it—up. Jack!"
A little while later, with her heartbeat still slowing down, she felt his hands stroking her gently. His touch was so tentative she almost wanted to cry. The feelings she had had just now were so strong and powerful and good. Weren't his?
Jennifer studied his face. Jack's smile was gentle now, not like the last few weeks, with the desperation behind the gentleness. This was gentle in the way it had been sometimes just after the funerals. There was sadness there. How could he feel sad now? She touched his mouth.
"What could be wrong, Jack?"
"Jen, I don't know if I'll be a good husband to you or a good father to Vicky," he said, softly. "It doesn't seem to run in the genes. But I want to be. You tell me what you want and I'll try."
"You'll be wonderful, Jack." She was sure. "You've always been wonderful with me and with Vicky. Sometimes I see you with her and I forget that she isn't yours."
"No, honey, don't fo
ol yourself. I know she isn't mine," Jack said. "That doesn't bother me, you know. I look at her and I see you and Victor. The two best people in the world. I'd be afraid if she was my kid. I—I don't know about what I'd pass on in a kid of mine. But you and Victor, that's different."
"Jack—"
"I don't know what happened to him. I don't wish it had turned out differently, mind you. How the hell could I give this up? But something went very wrong, Jen. I can't understand why he didn't come back. He was a great guy. How could Vicky go wrong with parents like you?"
"Wait a minute," Jen sat up. "I love Vicky. She is the most wonderful girl in the world, but Jack, don't be so humble. You have so much to offer any woman, any child. I'm lucky. Vicky is lucky. And our children will be lucky, too."
"Jen, are you preg—?"
"No. This time my little lapse in judgment didn't boomerang in my face. Maybe that's just as well. Vicky is still pretty young and I don't want you to ever think I asked you for that reason. But that doesn't mean I wouldn't like more children, Jack. I want your children very much. I want them to look like you and be like you because you're so special."
The smile on Jack's face was so tender that her insides twisted. He kissed her so sweetly, even while she knew he didn't believe a word of what she so desperately wanted him to believe.
"Jen, that ring was the thing my father wanted me to have before we left," Jack whispered. "I loved my grandmother. She was the only one in my family who gave a damn about me. She had a long, happy marriage to my grandfather and she told me once her only regret in marrying my grandfather was that she outlived him by twenty years. Maybe it's a good omen. At any rate, Dad meant something when he gave me this ring. Maybe he just wants me to settle down. But for what it's worth, I think the old man approves of you."
With a sigh she put her lips quietly to his. It might take time to convince him she knew every word she said was true. This marriage thing ought to do the trick, if anything could. She had a lifetime to prove it to him. She'd be patient.
The hell she would. She pushed herself away and glared at him.
"Jack, how dare you give me that old 'I know I'm second best to Victor routine' after all this!" Jen snarled. "How can you act like you aren't worthy to marry me!"
"Honey?"
"You can stop that humbleness right now. I have a feeling there's a little more here than you feeling as if Victor is special and you somehow are not. You know, my sisters asked me something once and I'll ask you the same thing. If Victor came through that door right now and he wanted me, would you just hand me over to him?"
"Hell, no."
"Even though you've been looking for him for me and even though he is such a wonderful guy and so much better than you?"
"That has nothing to do with it." Jack began to look dangerous. "You're going to marry me. No one else gets between you and me now. I'd kill them first. You knew from the start that I'm a very possessive guy when it comes to you."
"Do you think I'd change my mind?" Jen asked.
"Jen, I pray you won't. You knew that Victor might—just might—be out there somewhere when you chose me," Jack said. "If you changed your mind again—I guess I'd just have to convince you that I'm the one you are going to stay with for the rest of our lives."
"Sounds to me like you love me." Jen waited. Maybe she shouldn't push this, even though she knew it had to be true.
There was a long moment then Jack moved to kiss her again, gently and quietly. When he lifted his head she waited for the words. The ones she wanted.
"Jen, I don't know what that means." He sighed. "I want you more than I've ever wanted anyone in my life. I want to be with you. I don't know if that is enough. If I said I care about you and leave it at that for now, will that make you change your mind about marrying me?"
"No. It won't. I'll just have to change yours."
"I'm sorry, Jen. You should have someone better than me. Someone who can say the right things to you. Someone who is a gentleman."
"I don't know. You aren't precisely a gentle man, though you can be. But you're a truly good one. That's what I want. I hope I deserve it."
"I do care about you, Jen. Tremendously."
"I love you, Jack," Jen whispered, past the huge lump in her throat. "I think, deep down, you know you can trust me with your love or you wouldn't have agreed to marry me. There, Counselor. The defense rests."
"I knew you should have gone to law school." He tried to laugh and then stopped. "God, this feels good, Jen. I feel good. Peaceful. I still want the hell out of you, of course, but it all feels right now, not desperate. Just—right. You're right for me."
"I'm no dummy, Mr. Logan," Jen said. "I'd only marry the man who is just right for me. And I'd have to be the one who is right for him. I guess that's why they call it settling down. We're sure of each other."
Chapter Seven
"Jennifer, I'm simply so excited that you are engaged to my boy." The modulated, faintly petulant voice of Jack's mother was distinctive. "I remember you when you were just a child. So sweet and big-eyed—"
Jen remembered the slim, husky-voiced woman from her childhood. She'd been dazzled by the woman's charm, her beautiful clothes, her interest in the little girl next door. Jack's mother might have little to offer but her looks and her ability to charm people, but she made the most of them. Some remnants of that dazzle remained for Jen, no matter how badly the woman had treated her son.
"She still is, Mother," Jack told her on the other extension.
"There are so many plans to be made for the wedding. Have you sent your engagement notice in to the Post?"
"Uh—no." Jennifer almost panicked. "Honestly, we just decided a few days ago to get married. We haven't made any definite plans about anything."
"We won't be bothering to send in any notices to any newspapers, Mother," Jack said. "We're planning a very short engagement. Very."
"But Jack!" His mother was horrified. "How can you plan a proper wedding if you don't—"
"No society wedding, Mother," Jack went on. Jen longed to look at his face while he spoke. Or better yet, have him take a look at hers while he gave out his commands. "Jen's brother will be in town for Thanksgiving. We'll probably get married at home then, with just family."
"What about, well, you know, legal arrangements? I'm sure you must have decided about a prenuptial agreement—"
"Mother, there won't be one. End of discussion."
Jack clicked the telephone off.
It was Jack at his most high-handed. They hadn't even discussed this yet and here he had the date, the wedding guests and the place picked out without consulting her. It was so arrogant of him. It was so—perfect. Jen relaxed. Jack had decided on just exactly what she wanted.
She heard him come clattering down the stairs. He glanced sidewise at her, looking so guilty, Jen bit her cheek to keep from laughing. She folded her arms across her chest and looked at him.
"What do you have to say for yourself, Mr. Logan?"
"I'm sorry, Jen." He looked uneasy. "I wanted to talk it over with you but with my mother you need to act in control or you'll end up doing exactly what she wants, when she wants it. If you don't want to get married in three weeks, we don't have to. We'll do it just the way you want."
"You mean the June wedding with the five hundred guests that I always, always wanted?" Jen asked. "Of course it might not be this June since it will more than a year to plan it all out to the last detail. We could make it the year after. If we hurry."
She saw him wince as he muttered, "I can handle it. Mother would love that kind of wedding."
"I wouldn't." Jen let out her laugh. "Jack, do you really think that I 'd want to do that? Your idea is just right. Not that you shouldn't have talked it over with me before anyone else."
"I'm sorry." He sounded both relieved and sincere. "I just—I just want to be married to you. If I didn't like your family so much I'd have said we should get the blood tests over with and get married as soon a
s we can. But I'd like to have them there. I think your sisters would make dynamite bridesmaids."
"They were born to be my bridesmaids. At least I'm sure they think so," Jen agreed, in a dry tone. "Let's hope Cee Cee doesn't wear something too outrageous at the wedding."
"There's work, too," Jack reminded her. "You know the policy on married couples working together. It's the same as the policy on dating. We're lucky we haven't been caught before this. It won't matter after we get married."
"I don't want to make a big deal out of it." Jen shrugged. "Shall I give them my two week notice as soon as we hire a replacement?"
"Whatever you want, dear," Jack agreed, with an insincere meekness. "Unless you think I should resign instead…? I'd hate for you to think I expect you to give up your work."
"I suppose you would stay at home and be a househusband? I bet. No, Jack, I have a new job offer," Jen said. "I wanted to talk to you about it before but it slipped my mind with everything else going on. It won't pay much, but I got an offer to write a semi-regular column. At least that means I won't have to count on the prenuptial agreement to support me when we get divorced, huh?"
"Bite your tongue, girl. Or bite mine instead. I dare you."
"Stop that. I want to tell you about my new job. The response to my guest column was pretty positive. I think between settling Vicky and me into your house and making love to you at all odd hours, that I could make a good start at picking up my old freelancing. And Jack—I might just consider law school."
"It sounds good." Jack hesitated. "Jen, I have something I've wanted to talk to you about for a while, even though I haven't really worked it all out. What if I told you I might not stay on at the firm for much longer?"
"I don't believe they don't want to keep you on." Jen was stunned. "You have partnership track written all over you."
"No. Well, at least I don't think it's that I won't get an offer. It's me that doesn't necessarily want to be kept on."
"You're tired of it?" Jen asked.
"I'm tired of being someone else's boy," Jack admitted. "Even if I make partner—"