by Liz Talley
“Want my glasses on or off? Hair up or down? It’s your fantasy,” she said, stroking his shoulders as he tossed her panties aside.
His gaze zeroed in on the smoothly waxed juncture of her thighs. Her body felt flushed as he ran one finger over the trimmed hair there. She knew she was wet, but at his touch she felt herself grow even wetter.
“Oh, baby, you’re so wet. That’s so—” He didn’t finish, because he leaned forward and caught her mouth in a kiss. His tongue thrust against hers as he covered her body with his. Her senses spun out of control. His hard hotness grinding into her, his mouth suddenly everywhere at once. “Jess, I want to go slow, but I’m, like, losing it over you. You’re too damn hot, woman. Too hot. I need to be inside you, baby.”
Jess wrapped her arms around his shoulders and kissed him hard. “Don’t go slow. We can do slow later. Get the condom.”
Ryan lifted himself from her and opened the drawer in the bedside table. “I really wanted the first time to be good for you.”
Lifting onto her elbows, Jess said, “And you think it won’t?”
He turned. “No. It will. I’ve studied all this stuff about delayed gratification, but with you, I can’t seem to control myself.” He struggled to open the box of condoms. “Damn it.”
“Here. Give it to me,” she said, shrugging out of her bra and holding out a hand. He ripped the box and tossed her a package. She ripped the foil wrapper and lifted an eyebrow. “Well …”
Ryan’s cheeks flared red as he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his shorts and tugged them off. He stood in a pair of tight black boxer briefs. Ryan Reyes in tight underwear was a fine sight indeed. “Nice.”
“I’m suddenly nervous. I feel very much like that schoolboy you were playing a fantasy out for,” he said, with a sheepish smile. “It’s weird. I’m never nervous about this.”
“Come here and let me take them off you,” she said, beckoning him with a finger. She set the condom, still in the package, within arm’s reach along with her fake glasses. Her body thrummed with excitement as she slipped back into the role of seducer. Never had she been so bold as to take the lead. She’d always enjoyed the more submissive position, but Ryan made her want to be naughty, to be modern, to take control of her own desires.
Ryan climbed back onto the big bed and inched close to her, staying on his knees. The black Lycra of his boxers outlined his erection, which looked fairly impressive. Jess rose on her knees and trailed little kisses along his collarbone, inhaling his scent of bay rum soap and that intangible maleness that couldn’t be bottled. Maybe it was pheromones, who knew. But he smelled amazing. Her hands slid down to grasp his hard ass, and she gave it a light smack. She lifted her face to his, and he kissed her.
The kiss was less hurried, but very thorough. Jess tilted her head, letting him take it deeper as she slid a hand between their bodies and clasped him through his boxer briefs.
“Mmm,” he groaned, moving his hips back so she could fully mold her hand to his length. He was weighty and thick, making her blood sing in anticipation. For a moment she was content to stroke him through the soft material. All the while his hands roamed over her ass, up her back, cupping a breast, squeezing a nipple. Until finally he made it to the place that ached for him. His fingers sliding against her clitoris took her breath away.
Jess hooked her fingers in his waistband and slid his underwear down, hanging slightly on the head of his shaft before dropping them down between his thighs on the bed. Capturing the bobbing length, she felt the full heat and breadth of the man. “Impressive,” she said, nipping his bottom lip, fully aware that this was a huge first for her. She’d never wrapped her hand around any man other than her ex-husband. It was both exciting and somehow strange.
But his fingers worked their own magic, erasing any unease. He moved through her slick heat, ringing her entrance, teasing, tormenting, and practicing all the wicked things he’d no doubt read about in those manuals he’d admitted to studying. Three cheers for a man who took his sexual game seriously.
“I can’t wait any longer,” she whispered into his ear, nuzzling the scruff of his jaw. She reached over and grabbed the foil packet. “Let’s suit up.”
Ryan ducked his head and kissed her hard. “Like good scientists should.”
Jess fit the circular latex over the head of his cock and rolled it down. Then she tipped him over. Like a felled tree, he went down easy. Jess straddled him, rubbing herself against the hard ridge, anchoring her hands on either side of his face. She looked deep into his eyes. “I’m so glad you’re the one.”
There was no explanation needed, because she wasn’t sure exactly what “the one” was. Was it the first man who’d seen her as a desirable woman after she’d felt anything but? The first man who made her feel something more than sadness again? The first man to screw her after her hurtful divorce? The first man to be a possibility for something more? She didn’t know. And at that moment she didn’t care. There was Ryan. There was Jess and there was …
She lifted herself and tilted her hips, sinking down on him.
“Yes,” she sighed, holding herself still, feeling him stretch her, fill her. The sensation was more than physical.
“Oh shit, that’s good,” Ryan said, screwing his eyes closed and making that face—the hurt-so-good face—that caused her to hesitate for a millisecond. But then he grabbed her hips and pulled her down tight before reaching up to cup her breast. “You’re so damn sexy, babe. I’ve never seen anything like you.”
Jess started moving her hips, establishing a strong rhythm. Thirteen months. That’s how long it had been since she’d had sex. The month before Benton had come home and dropped his shit bomb, they’d not had sex. He’d claimed stress, and she’d accepted it because he’d started a new position in his company. So the sensation of Ryan filling her, rolling her nipples between his finger and thumb, giving her honeyed words all combined to build quickly the delicious pressure of orgasm. Her body tightened; her mind went into that trancelike state where there was only him, her, and that ancient movement that brought dizzying pleasure. Blinding pleasure. Toe-curling pleasure.
And then his thumb parted her and found her clit. Like a huge wave rolling over a small boat, she broke apart, spasms of sheer, unadulterated pleasure washing over her. She screamed and leaned forward, fisting her hands in the softness of the quilt.
“Oh wow, that’s … I can feel you coming,” Ryan said, lifting his hips, turning her over. He slid his hands under her knees, tilting her back slightly so that he went even deeper inside her. The head of his cock rubbed the perfect spot over and over again until she fell to pieces again.
Jess slammed her hands down on either side of her. “Oh shit. I’m coming again.”
Ryan’s breathing was ragged in her ear. He dropped tender kisses against her neck. “Come again. And again. As much as you can, baby. Just let loose and give it all to me.”
So she did. All thoughts other than stretching once again for that pinnacle fled as her body took over. She’d never felt anything like it, but she went with it.
Soon, Ryan’s hoarse cry sounded in her ear, and the jerking of his hips signified he, too, had achieved that sweet crest. His body shuddered, and he gave a little shake, as if he had the chills, before slowing and collapsing on top of her. And even as he stopped moving, the muscles inside her clutched at him, demanding more. She didn’t want to stop, but she couldn’t take anymore. She’d lost track of the orgasms.
“Oh my God,” she said, spitting her hair out of her mouth, breath coming hard as deep satisfaction ebbed and flowed inside her body.
Ryan laughed and kissed the side of her boob before withdrawing and rolling over. “Damn straight. That felt amazing.”
Jess started laughing. “I may have set a record for the most orgasms ever.”
“Let me get the clipboard,” he said, making like he was about to get up. She grabbed his arm and jerked him back to her. He gave her a sweaty kiss and then coll
apsed back. “Doesn’t matter. The hypothesis is proven. When Jess Culpepper, fantasy girl, shows up on dorky Ryan Reyes’s doorstep wearing a black satin garter belt and a lab coat, something explosive will go down.”
“We’ve got good chemistry,” she said with another laugh. God, it felt so good to laugh, to have had amazing sex, to feel so sexy, sated, and … loved.
Of course, this wasn’t love. At all. It was a post-coital glow. But still the feeling was much the same.
“You’ve got a nice set of test tubes,” he joked, grinning like a fool. Jess rolled over to her side and stroked the sparse trail of hair on his belly. He still wore the spent condom.
“Pink peonies?” she said, smiling down at him.
He lifted a hand and tweaked her nipple. “I know. It was bad, but I couldn’t think of a good comparison. My grandmother used to grow them in—”
“Ah, don’t mention your grandmother! The woman would be appalled at what I just did with her grandson.”
Ryan inhaled. “Actually, I think she’d be happy I was getting some. She worried a lot about me growing up. She kept telling my parents, ‘The boy needs to be normal,’ to which they’d reply, ‘But he’s not normal.’ It was a constant debate. Ol’ Granny Lou would probably high-five me. I haven’t seen her in a while, so she hasn’t seen my bid to be normal. But she’d be supportive of me claiming my own life … of me getting some from the head cheerleader.” He wiggled his eyebrows.
“I’m thinking I should have worn my cheerleading uniform instead of the lab coat,” Jess said, moving her hand up to his broad chest and nuzzling in close to him. “Maybe next time. Of course, it’s in storage in Morning Glory, but maybe I can order something online.”
“Will there be a next time?” he asked, stroking the piece of hair that had come down during their lovemaking.
Jess froze. She’d never thought this was a one-and-done sort of thing. But how stupid of her. Of course Ryan wasn’t treating them as an exclusive thing. He had women swarming over him … or at least that’s what Becky and Tanae had implied. Hadn’t Morgan already tried to mark her territory?
The fact her hand had stopped on his chest and she hadn’t responded must have alarmed Ryan, because he lifted his head. “Hey, I’ll understand if you don’t want to—”
“No, I just hadn’t thought much beyond right now,” Jess said, shaking her head. “I mean, I understand that you don’t want to make this—”
“—a relationship?” he interrupted.
Jess pressed her lips together. “Maybe we shouldn’t define anything. Maybe we go with it. I don’t want to hem you into anything you’re uncomfortable with, but to be honest, I’m not interested in doing this with anyone other than you. In fact, I turned a really cute oncologist down earlier today. But I don’t want to—”
“No. I do,” Ryan said, lifting upon his elbow. “I mean, I’m not interested in any other woman right now. You’re all I can think about since I first saw you. I know I was bombed out of my mind, but still it registered that Jess was here, looking hotter than a … Bunsen burner. After that, there was only you in my mind, filling up all the spaces. So I want to do this thing, whatever it is, for as long as it’s good for both of us.”
“You do?” She couldn’t keep the surprise out of her voice. She hadn’t expected him to be so honest, but hadn’t he been exactly that from the outset?
“Yeah,” he said, smiling at her. “And I can’t imagine this being the only time I touch you”—he brushed his hand across her rib cage, making her stomach tremble—“that I taste you”—he dipped his head toward her, capturing her lips against his in a soft kiss—“or that I’ll feel your body tightening against mine. You’re gorgeous when you come.”
“Oh,” she breathed, her body quickening once again with desire. “I think we’re in agreement that our experiment must be carried out over the course of several months. We have much to touch, taste, and feel.”
“Mmm-hmm,” he said against her mouth as he kissed her once more. “Now let me take care of this used condom, and we’ll start the next experiment. I think in this one we’ll take off the stockings and garters so I can kiss every inch of your delicious body.”
“And I’ll start thinking of comparisons for your body parts while you’re gone. Maybe the fleshy tuber of your love. Or perhaps the velvet steel sword,” she joked.
Ryan slapped her ass. “That’s right. Milton’s got nothing on you.”
Chapter Twelve
Two days later, Jess managed to get in touch with Rosemary. Her friend had called her several times, but it was always when Jess was on duty or rolling around in the sheets with Ryan. Then when Jess returned her call, Rosemary was busy helping her future husband at the restaurant … or rolling around in the sheets with Sal.
“Finally,” Rosemary breathed with laughter in her voice. This was how her friend had sounded ever since Sal had crossed the town square of Morning Glory sweating buckets in order to propose to her. Jess had never seen her friend happier or more fulfilled. Jess remembered what that was like, that rosy glow. In fact, it was easier to recall now that she’d spent the past two nights having amazing sex with Ryan, pausing only to enjoy a pint of Ben and Jerry’s before getting back to business. She was afraid if they didn’t slow down, she’d end up with a bladder infection. But the hazy, wonderful feeling of having good sex paired with the laughter and waking up with someone there to make coffee—even though she didn’t drink it—was something she’d been happy to wrap herself in.
“Sorry we’ve been playing phone tag,” Jess said, sinking onto the hammock on the porch of the Dirty Heron, staring out at the bay gently lapping the sandy shore. “I’ve been working a lot.”
“And according to Eden, you’ve been playing around with the Brain. She showed me the picture. Good God, he’s like Adonis and Tom Cruise had a baby. Of course, I have no idea what Adonis looked like. Well, come to think of it, he wasn’t even real, but you know what I mean.”
“I do. And, yes, Ryan Reyes grew up to be a hottie. I almost feel dirty playing around with him. But not too dirty to stop,” Jess said, feeling more like herself than she had in forever. Like she was getting back the part of herself that could joke and act nonchalant. The part of her that drawled naughty comebacks and drank gin martinis. The part of herself that wasn’t a whiny bitch who got sad during Hallmark commercials and slept in an old shirt of her ex-husband’s she’d found when she cleaned out her drawers. Yeah, the unpathetic part.
“Well, well, aren’t you the cougar? Well, I guess technically you’re not a cougar. But you know what I mean.”
“I am a cougar. I think. I’m three years older than him, so does that make me one?”
Rosemary laughed. “I don’t think so. Does it matter?”
“Nope. So what’s going on? You don’t have pregnancy brain, do you?” Jess asked. Rosemary sounded more scattered than usual.
“No! Good gravy, do not even suggest that. My mother would be planning the baby shower with gossamer ribbon and tiered petits fours. It’s bad enough I have to deal with her and this wedding.”
“You’ve picked a date?”
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. We’re actually getting married Labor Day weekend.”
“Labor Day weekend? That’s in, like, two weeks.”
“I know, but for the past few weeks we’ve argued back and forth with my mom and Sal’s mom and … it’s just getting to be too much. Our families are driving us crazy. So since his parents are coming down here to meet my parents over Labor Day, we said to hell with it and booked the church. Luckily, his brothers and one of his sisters can come, too. Oh, and his grandmother Sophie. But I want you here. You have to be here for my wedding.”
“I don’t know, Rose. I can try to switch weekends with someone on another shift, but it’s a holiday.”
“I can’t get married without you,” Rosemary said, her voice suddenly quiet. Jess could almost hear her thoughts. Lacy won’t be here. I can�
��t have you missing, too. “You have to be a bridesmaid. Only you and Eden. I’m not even asking my cousin Mary Charlotte.”
“And your mother knows this?”
“Not yet. It will cause another argument, but Mary Charlotte does not want to be in my wedding anyway. Sammi Jo Henry overheard her tell Marion Trask at Rio Grande that very thing when she stopped in for Taco Tuesday. Sammi Jo called me because she thought I ought to know when someone didn’t have the decency to want to be in her own cousin’s wedding. She said Mary Charlotte told Marion that if she had to wear one more ugly dress and paste a fake smile on her face, she was going to puke. So Mary Charlotte is out.”
“Bloodthirsty, aren’t you?”
“It’s Sal’s influence. The New Yorker in him cuts through the bullshit.”
Jess laughed at her genteel friend rattling off “bullshit” like it was natural for her. Prim, prissy Rosemary rarely cursed. Her mother didn’t deem it ladylike, so she’d stricken all swear words from her daughter’s vocabulary. Once when they were sixteen, they’d spent the entire night calling each another “motherfucker” so they could practice getting ready for college. They’d also bought a pack of Virginia Slims and sat by the screened window blowing smoke out. Rosemary had managed to use motherfucker twice and puff on three cigarettes that she never inhaled. “I like when you talk tough.”
“So will you ask your boss at the hospital? Beg them. Tell them I have to have my best friends with me.”
“I’ll see what I can do to get a shift change. I’ll say pretty please and spring for lunch one day. That should to the trick. Nurses love free food,” Jess said.
“Oh good. Let me know as soon as you can. Oh, and feel free to bring a guest,” Rosemary said, her voice rising to an almost singsong trill.