by Rian Kelley
“Do you have plans for Thanksgiving?”
“I thought I did.” She explained about the upcoming conference and how important it was to Holly. She didn’t go into her sister’s injuries, not yet. “That takes place over Thanksgiving week.”
He nodded. “Do you ski?”
“As in snow?”
He nodded. “Downhill or cross-country. My sister lives in Montana and there’s bound to be a lot of snow at Thanksgiving.” He arched his eyebrows and let his sentence trail off as a
question.
“You’re asking me to come to Montana with you?”
“You said you have the time off.”
“Four days,” she said.
“Any chance you could stretch that into a week?”
“I don’t know.” She was slow to answer, reluctant to commit to something that was a long way off. “It’s hard to think about snow and turkey in the middle of August.”
“It’s hard to think about us in the snow and eating turkey,” he called it out, but his tone was thoughtful and not at all condemning.
“It’s scary,” she admitted, and added, only to herself, that she was afraid to want it. She knew that she did, and that the want could easily turn into a need as had her physical feelings for Jake.
“Ok, so for now we’ll leave it open.” He picked up his longneck and drank from it, eyeing Ivy over the bottle. “Our appetizer is here.”
The waiter set a platter on the table between them and the savory scent of lobster unfurled in ribbons of steam which Ivy was fast to inhale. She closed her eyes and let the seasonings of the sea tempt her.
“That smells heavenly.”
“Damn,” she heard him whisper and slowly opened her eyes. Jake was watching her and
she noticed that his skin had deepened in color.
“Do you always respond with all of your senses?”
“I like to enjoy experiences,” she said.
“I’ll give you something to enjoy,” he promised.
She allowed her gaze to remain locked with his for a long and heated moment. She didn’t give in to shyness or to fear and skitter away from the intimacy, but felt herself fall deeper into Jake’s eyes. A flush rose to the surface of her skin, her breath fluttered in her throat. “I don’t doubt it.”
Her words were barely a whisper, but he heard them and responded. Liquid fire seemed to jump in his eyes.
“I don’t want you to wait for this,” he said, and picked up the serving fork the waiter had left with the appetizer.
“I’ve waited long enough already,” she agreed.
Jake scooped a slice of the strudel, the lobster coated in a thin flaky phyllo dough and stuffed with caramelized onions and fresh bousin cheese, and slid it onto her plate. He did the same for himself.
Ivy brought a small bite of the delicacy to her lips and felt her mouth water, her eyelids drift shut as she took her first taste. She wasn’t deliberately baiting him, but she was aware that her approach to eating was unleashing in Jake a hunger that had nothing to do with caloric intake. The opposite, really. And she loved that. She listened to his breath thicken and wondered what was happening to other areas of his body. When she opened her eyes she found a visibly restrained Jake staring at her.
“This is costing you,” she said.
“I can’t decide if it would be easier on me if I helped you or if I just sat back and watched.”
“Let’s try it both ways,” she suggested. “You’ve watched, now let’s see what happens when you participate.”
Jake accepted the invitation, though his movements were slow. He never took his eyes off hers as he broke off a piece of the strudel and brought it to her lips. She noticed a slight tremor in his hand, that his skin had deepened further, and realized that discipline was deeply ingrained in him.
Ivy took the bite and when he tried to pull the fork back, she hung on a beat, two, and met his eyes in a firestorm of emotion.
He swore but it sounded more like a term of reverence.
“Two hours.” He spoke the words like they were an impossible feat.
“You have more discipline than me,” Ivy conceded. “More patience.”
“More experience,” he said. “And that means I’ve had more losses than wins. It’s enough to make me vigilant. It was enough…”
“So maybe you should go back to watching.”
He agreed, but said, “It wasn’t much better.”
“I could tie you to the chair.” She smiled, not so much at his discomfort, though she loved that she was the source of it, but at the image of a strong and sturdy Jake wrapped in coils of rope—and nothing else. Of course, not here in the restaurant, but she’d file the idea away for later use.
“Would you like that, Ivy?”
“Maybe.” She gave her next words careful consideration. “I think you’re used to being in charge and that may not work for me. Not all the time.”
Her words seemed to hit him like mortar. She waited for him to respond.
“I don’t have to be in the driver’s seat. Not all the time.” But he still wore a stunned expression.
“This is great—our ability to communicate so effectively.” A new spin on his words, but the sentiment was true. She loved that she was able to talk to Jake, to tell him how she felt, what she wanted, needed. And that he was so responsive. She had to remember to be as open to his needs. “What do you like, Jake?”
If he was fumbling on the edge of consciousness before, her new words were a knockout. She waited for him to gather his senses.
“What do I like?” he sought to clarify.
“Yes. What do you want from me?” She checked her watch. “In one hour and thirty-seven minutes.”
He didn’t need to think further. “I want you to respond to me as openly as you have here tonight.”
“That shouldn’t be a problem,” she assured him. “What’s your sweet spot?”
“My sweet spot?”
“We all have one, right? You know, ‘touch me there and I’ll go crazy.’ And give me something more than the obvious.”
“But I’m an all-American boy.” He smiled and it was full and wicked.
Ivy took another bite of her strudel and then touched her tongue to the corner of her lips to catch an errant morsel. His eyes followed the movement and his smile slowly faded as intent burned in his eyes.
“I’m asking for requests,” she tempted him, loving the word play. She loved what it was doing for both of them. “And, just so you know, I won’t be giving away any secrets until I have a few of yours.”
He shook his head. “No way. It’s one-for-one.” He sat forward and reached across the table where he smoothed a crumb off her lip. “And ladies first,” he invited.
“Good move.”
“It’s honorable.”
“And very convenient,” Ivy agreed. “But the woman is asking and it would be equally chivalrous to provide an accurate answer.”
His face turned thoughtful but his eyes level as he considered her request.
“One revelation a piece,” he suggested. “The rest on discovery.”
“Just enough direction to make sure we’re on the right track.” She could live with that.
“How do you feel about feet?”
“Feet?” She’d never considered them before. Not in the same thought as sex.
“Toes, in particular,” he went on.
“As in—“
“As in each one a lollipop.”
The shock must have shown on her face. There was a long pause between them.
“Is it a deal-breaker?” Jake asked.
“It never occurred to me,” she admitted. And thinking about it now, well, wasn’t at all appealing. She focused her gaze on her silverware, running her fingertips over the scalloped edges as she tried to figure out exactly how she felt about it, except uncomfortable. Really uncomfortable. She was just admitting to herself that maybe she wasn’t as adventurous as she’d thought, when she
heard a rumbling from across the table. The rumble grew into short gasps and when she looked up she found Jake holding his stomach with one hand as he erupted into a full gale of laughter.
“Oh, that was good,” he said, when he was able to speak. “His hand clapped the table a few times. “You should have seen your face.”
“Funny.”
“You need to be ready for anything, with a question like that.”
“Yeah, but that’s not the only reason you did it.”
“We needed to break the tension,” he admitted. “But tell me the truth, you didn’t once doubt that I was serious, did you?”
“I didn’t get that far.”
“There are still some things we don’t know about each other,” he pointed out.
“Important things,” Ivy agreed.
“Did I change your mind?”
“About having sex with you? No. I was trying to come to terms with fetishes,” she admitted.
“I don’t have any,” he promised. The laughter left his eyes as he focused on her question. “Without stating the obvious,” he recapped, “my neck. That’s the general geography. You’ll have to find the trigger.”
Relief unraveled her breath. She felt her shoulders relax and her hand gave up the death grip she’d had on her fork. “I’ll enjoy the journey.”
“Now you,” he demanded. “What’s your sweet spot, Ivy?”
She thought about that. Neither of the men she’d been with had ever asked her what turned her on. They hadn’t bothered with much discovery either.
“I have a few,” she revealed, and tried to determine the most neglected, and the most needy, of the bunch. An area that was bound to be overlooked for the more obvious pleasure points. When she looked up, Jake was waiting to snare her in his gaze. The intensity in his eyes only deepened when she confided,
“My bellybutton.”
Chapter Ten
“Twenty-two minutes,” Jake muttered the words over the rim of his coffee cup.
They had lingered over their meal, steered their conversation into safer waters. Jake told the waitress to hold off on placing their entrée order until they’d finished their salads, and not to bring the salads until their appetizer dishes were cleared. As a result, they had managed to get through most of the three hours.
“It will take ten to get to my place.”
“That include finding a parking spot?”
She nodded. “This late, we’ll have a few blocks to walk. Three minutes for that.”
Jake lifted his hand to get their server’s attention and asked for the bill. “We’ll walk slow,” he told Ivy.
“Do you have a condom?” she asked. She hadn’t even considered it, but now that sex was imminent, she wanted nothing to slow them down. They could always run into Walgreens.
“Several. I stocked up on Sunday.”
“That confidence again.”
“That conversation in the truck,” he corrected. “We both knew where it was leading.”
Ivy nodded.
Jake paid and then stood. He reached for Ivy’s hand and said, “I know you said no touching, not until I was going to come across—“
“Close enough,” Ivy agreed and slipped her hand into his. As they wove through the tables and under the arbor leading to the parking lot, Jake pulled her close so that she was nestled against his shoulder and their hips brushed as they walked.
She had pulled on a hoodie earlier in the evening, but away from the heat lamps in the restaurant, the air was cool and in her running shorts her skin began to chill. Jake was attuned to her feelings—he rubbed his hand up and down her arm and when they reached the truck he turned her so that her back was against the passenger’s door and his body was close enough his heat enveloped her. Ivy leaned into him so that her breasts were firm against his chest. She felt his erection press into her belly.
“Kiss me, Jake,” she invited and rolled to her tiptoes, rubbing against his cock. His low rumble of approval made her pulse jump.
Jake lowered his head but rather then kiss her, he whispered against her lips,
“You’re perfect.” He slipped his hands under her hoodie, his fingertips spanning her waist then running gently over her rib cage until they reached her breasts. He cupped them in his palms. “Lush.” His thumbs rose over the crests of her breasts and found her nipples, beaded and begging for attention. She whimpered. His erection grew more insistent. “Yes, this is what I like. What I want from you, Ivy. Truly. Your response. I want it to be full and revealing. No holding back.” He pushed his hips against her and she felt his cock grow thicker. “Do you feel what it does to me?”
“Yes,” she breathed and felt her own body respond. She melted at her core. Her womb tightened. She was ready for him. Wanted him. Right here. Right now. It seemed like her apartment was miles away. She locked her hands around his neck and urged him closer.
“I shouldn’t kiss you now. Here,” he said. “I’m too close to losing myself in the moment.” He stroked her lips with his tongue anyway and she parted. “We’re in an empty parking lot. After midnight,” he continued, in a tone that was all about reminding himself, but then he dipped his tongue inside her mouth and she was waiting for him, hot and wet and primed.
Ivy immediately took control of the kiss, pushing her tongue against his, sliding one hand up to cradle his head and add pressure to their joining. He wasn’t going to slide away from her as easily as he had in the past. She wedged her leg between his, planning an assault on his thickened shaft, but he was too fast, was attuned so closely to her needs. He pressed his thigh to the cleft of her sex and intense pleasure shot through Ivy. She called out against his mouth and his hands tightened on her hips.
“You like that,” he said.
“I need that,” she corrected. “I need more.” Her hands had dropped to his hips and she pulled him closer still. But it wasn’t enough. “Jake,” she whimpered, demanded, called to him.
“Damn.”
“Now.”
Jake fumbled in his pocket, rubbing against her in a way that was torture. Then she heard
the chirp of the car remote. He opened the door and lifted her onto the seat.
“Just a few more minutes, sweetheart.” He tangled a hand in her hair, pressed her cheek to his, and whispered, “I promise.”
Then he shut the door. He wasn’t climbing in after her. He wasn’t ripping off her clothes and taking her in the front seat of his truck. Another shriek of the brakes moment. It shot through her like an ice pick. Ivy sat back against the seat. Beneath the numbness of her realization, her passion burned. And beneath that anger.
She heard the driver’s side door open, felt the cool air enter the cabin. But she refused to look at him. She felt tears shimmer just above her lashes. She refused to let those drop. She didn’t realize her hands were clenched until Jake laid one of his over hers.
“Ivy,” he began, his voice still thick with need but a gentleness had wormed its way through.
“Don’t,” she cut him off. “Don’t you dare tell me how sorry you are.”
And then the tears did fall, sliding over her heated cheeks.
“Oh, baby,” he crooned, and then leaned over her. His lips caught a tear and followed its path to the corner of her eye where he placed a soft kiss. He nuzzled into the hair at her temple and whispered, “In ten minutes, you’ll be coming apart in my arms. I promise.”
He reached beyond her hip and brought the seatbelt up and across her body, then snapped it into place. He took care of his own, started the engine, and threw the truck into gear.
“You better make that five,” she grumbled.
He pulled out of the parking space and into the street. It was after midnight and the traffic was light. Ivy felt the tension leave her body in small, slow rivulets. Gradually, her skin cooled and she rubbed her hands over her bare thighs.
Jake noticed and flipped a switch on the dashboard. Heat blew out of the vents and settled on her. Too bad she was s
tarting to feel cold on the inside, too. She gazed out the window at the fog rolling off the ocean.
“You Ok?”
She speared him with a glance.
“Stupid question.” He nodded his own agreement to that and returned his attention to the road.
Still keenly aware of her need, of the hurt just a small movement or gesture brought with the rubbing of her clothes against the sensitive hot spots on her body, she nevertheless turned and scooted toward Jake, as much as the seatbelt would allow. It gave her greater access to his body and she wanted to know if he was still feeling as tortured as she was.
No, she wanted to torture him further, she decided.
Ivy trailed her fingers up his thigh, along the inside seam of his shorts. When she got to his erection, she was happy to find the length and width of it a testimony to her effect on him. She measured it with her touch, probed along the shaft, found the head and rubbed her thumb there, over the silky material, and felt his cock jump at the attention.
Jake growled.
Ivy slipped out of the shoulder harness and lowered her head.
“Oh, God,” Jake whispered.
“You’re going to feel like one when I’m done with you.” Ivy’s lips replaced her fingers, still over the material of his shorts. She sucked his cock into her mouth as best she could and used her teeth to delicately nip at the ridge she felt pushing against her tongue. Jake’s breath came in short bursts.
“I want to touch you here, Jake,” she said. She lifted her head and watched his face as she slipped her hand beneath the waistband. She was greeted with the insistent push of his erection against her palm. His hips flexed. His lips drew back in a grimace as he fought for control.
She pressed her mouth to the corner of his lips as her hand curled around his shaft. “Fellatio,” she whispered.
“Not here,” he bit out.
Her hand tightened. “Yes, right here.”
She pushed his shorts down and his cock sprang free. Even in the shadowy cabin of the truck, she could tell that he was impressive. Long and thick and flushed with passion, she knew it would be heavenly having him inside her. She lapped at his head with her tongue and his hand tightened in her hair. She swirled around the tip, paused over the ridge, tasted earth and salt and something that was totally Jake and nothing she had ever had on her tongue before. His hand applied pressure, still gentle, still in control, but clearly needing her now to take him fully in her mouth.