A Fine Balance

by Susan Johnson

  She’d just descended a very small distance when he said, “Shit. Wait.” Swiftly lifting her off his erection, he dropped her on the sofa. “Condom,” he muttered, leaping to his feet.

  “I was going to bitch,” she said, watching him stride across the kitchen. “I thought you were going to make me wait again and”—

  “Nope. But you gotta help me with this. I’ve never forgotten condoms before and now, Jesus, twice in one night.” Scooping up a handful from the counter, he turned back and grinned. “Obviously, it’s all your fault.”

  “Yeah, I cast a spell over you cause I want your baby.”

  He stopped mid-stride. “You’re kidding, right?”

  She laughed. “Relax. I have enough trouble in my life. I’m not looking to add to the mix.”

  He started walking again. “That’s what I thought.”

  “No, you thought I was trying to trap your sweet ass. But then why wouldn’t you when you have all those babes in hot pursuit.”

  “No one’s in hot pursuit.”

  “Sorry. My mistake. All those horny women on the local discussion list must have been talking about another Jack Morgan.”

  “Hey, you’re bumming me out.”

  She gave his dick a quick up and down glance. “He doesn’t seem to mind.”

  “Yeah, well, some things are automatic when you have a lush, naked babe within reach.”

  A little downward drift of her lashes. “How about you personalize that comment.”

  “I, we, both of us are hopelessly enamored of your bountiful charms, Miss Penrose. I regret my lapse of manners.”

  “Okay. You can fuck me now.”

  He broke out laughing. “You’re adorable. And hot. And beautiful. I’m pleased as hell to be here.” His voice dropped, his gaze held hers. “I mean it, Jilly-bean. Thanks for your company.”

  “Don’t get mushy or I’ll tell you I love you—see…that’s scary, right? Don’t worry. It’s just sexual infatuation, pure and simple. But I’m glad for your company as well.” She held out her hand. “Give me that condom.”

  He knew what she was doing and was grateful. Neither one of them wanted to step over the line. What they had was good; no point in overthinking. “Be my guest.” He tossed her one of the condoms, set the rest on the counter behind the sofa and dropped into a sprawl beside her.

  “I’m not really proficient at this, but I want to anyway.” Smiling, she slid off the sofa and kneeled between his thighs. “You really have a gorgeous erection. I suppose you hear that all the time,” she murmured, running her fingers all the way up the enormous length, delicately tracing the web of swollen, pulsing veins.

  Gazing at her from under his lashes, he considered saying, no, out of politesse, but she suddenly dipped her head, gave the engorged head of his dick a little flick of her tongue and any thought of politesse died.

  Shutting his eyes, he groaned.

  “It’s way bigger now,” she whispered, sliding her tongue over the huge ridged crest, the color darkening to purple as she licked.

  Abruptly sliding up into a sitting position, Jack grabbed her hands and leaned forward so their eyes met. “I’ve been thinking about being inside you ever since I left Wade’s house two days ago. So put the condom on now.” Releasing her hands, he dropped back against the sofa.

  He seemed genuinely unaware of his appeal, she thought mesmerized by the beautiful nude man in her kitchen, his long, lean body spread out on her blue velvet sofa, his erection as perfect as the rest of him.

  “Want me to do it?”

  His query broke into her fan girl reverie. “No, I will,” she quickly said, and ripped open the foil pack. But getting a condom over his huge cock turned out to be more difficult than she expected and after a few, fumbling attempts, Jack stopped her.

  “Let me.” He stripped the condom from her fingers.

  Three seconds later, the condom was in place and before she could take issue with his swift competence, he had her poised above the head of his erection and was lightly holding her hips. “You wanna move first or should I?”

  In reply she slid down his glorious length smooth as silk thanks to the previous well-orchestrated finger fuck that had her pussy slick and ready for action. Settling on his thighs, she wiggled her bottom to register the tantalizing pleasure, to better feel the sleek pressure on her taut, pulsing sex. She was gorged full, his massive cock throbbing deep inside her, and twining her arms around his neck, she whispered, “Give me a second to feel”—

  “This?” Pushing her hips downward, he flexed his gluts, thrust his hips up and drove in deeper.

  “Oh God…yessss.”

  Her eyes were shut, her pussy drenching his dick, her breathy sigh warming his throat. Sometimes you didn’t have to ask. Raising her up his erection with exquisite slowness so sensation took on a new, rapt dimension, he held her motionless on the crest until her whimpers turned frantic. “Tell me you need me inside you,” he whispered.

  “Please, please, I do. Desperately,” she pleaded, trying to break his hold on her hips. “Don’t do this to me! Jack!”

  Loosening his fingers, he allowed her downward descent with only a modicum of restraint. There were hours to go yet tonight, she wasn’t in the mood for caution; it was up to him to be sensible. But when she was fully impaled once again, he held her firmly in place and smiled as she sew-sawed her ass on his thighs. He grinned, dropped a kiss on her nose. “Getting enough?”

  “I’ll let you know,” she purred, beginning to rise from her knees.

  “That’s not how it works,” he murmured, his grip suddenly unrelenting, holding her still, being buried deep inside her a new kind of pleasure. “Ask me.”

  “Please, please, oh God I’m going to kill you,” she whimpered, ravenous and needy. “Dammit, please…”

  “Sorry.” But he didn’t let go. “I know I’m being a prick, but I like when you beg.”

  Her eyes suddenly opened, the green brilliant with sass. “I shouldn’t beg, but your dick is worth a helluva lot of begging. Now hurry the fuck up.”

  His smile was benevolent, warm. “Anything for you, Jilly-bean.”

  “Stop talking!”

  He was laughing as he released her hips, smiling as he met her frantic rhythm, filled with an irrepressible wonder as he rushed to catch up with her. Their first climax didn’t take long, although he politely waited for her to get to the finish line before he prudently covered her mouth and joined her in a perfectly managed, mutual orgasm of a distinctly mind-blowing nature.

  Wrapping her arms around his neck afterward, she rained smiling kisses on his face. “You’re so talented. I like when you do that.”

  He kissed her back. “That?”

  “Together. I like that. Makes me feel all glowy.”

  “Then I’ll have to make sure you get some more.”

  “Hmmm, thanks.” Nibbling on his neck, she murmured against his skin, “What if I were to mark you?”

  It took him a fraction of a second to reply because his first answer was, Don’t. “No problem,” he said instead. “But then I get my turn.”

  “I never see anyone so it doesn’t matter.”

  “Good to know.”

  She suddenly sat up and looked at him. “Would you?”

  He smiled. “Hey, whatever you want. I’m not here to make trouble.”

  “Oh, good, cause I do go to the grocery store, so…”

  “So if I put my mark on you, I should keep it private?”

  She shivered. “I’ve never felt this way before. Insatiable. Addicted. Wanting sex all the time. I’m going to scare you off for sure.”

  He shook his head, brushed her cheek with his fingertips. “I feel the same way.”

  “Even if you don’t mean it, thanks for saying it.”

  “You don’t have to thank me. I mean it.” He smiled. “Now how insatiable are you?”

  “I was afraid to ask.”

  “I’m going to need another condom.”

>   She giggled. “Who knew a simple declarative sentence could have such impact.”

  “Yeah, how about that,” he said, drily.

  He was just ripping open the next condom when Zeke’s cry echoed in the quiet kitchen. Jack went still. “Will he go back to sleep?”

  Biting her bottom lip, she listened.

  For the next few moments Jack watched the clock, Jillian monitored the tone and nuance of the cry, then finally said, “I better go up.”

  “Want me to come with you?”

  “Probably not.”

  “I’ll help you dress.” Tossing the condom he rose from the sofa.

  By the time, Jillian was clothed again, the crying had seriously escalated.

  Jack smiled. “You better go, Mama Bear.”

  “I’ll be back as soon as I can,” she said, moving to the door. “Don’t go anywhere,” she added over her shoulder, “or I’ll cry.”

  “Don’t worry. Take your time. I don’t suppose you have any beer.”

  “Sorry.” Unlocking the door, she slipped from the room.

  Pulling on his clothes in case she brought Zeke down, he went to the fridge and looked inside in the event she’d been mistaken. Nope. Not much else either, but she hadn’t been exactly flush lately. He wondered if she’d mind if he set up an account for her at Harvest Market or Safeway? Yeah, right. He knew the answer to that one. Out of curiosity and half-assed hungry too, he opened and shut the kitchen cabinets, experiencing a twinge of guilt at the bareness of the cupboards. Not that he could do much about it. Jillian Penrose didn’t fall into the gold-digger category. That was his ex’s territory.

  He glanced at the clock. Restless, out of his usual entertainment zone, in mind fuck territory if he was honest with himself, he started pacing, caught himself and abruptly stopped. Shit. He was like a horny teenager waiting for Jillian’s return and it wasn’t exclusively about sex. Not that he was going to unravel that puzzle tonight. He wanted what he wanted; she did too, so fuck it.

  Lying down on the smallish sofa, he hung his legs over an armrest, and with an eye on the clock, scrolled through his phone, then hit his news app and killed some more time. Still no sound from upstairs. He shut his eyes, figuring he’d nap while he was waiting. He’d had a busy day. But sleep eluded him. He didn’t have to wonder why.

  Screw it. He came to his feet. He’d go see what she was doing. Stay out of sight. But when he started climbing the stairs they creaked so loudly, he stopped, retraced his steps, sat down on the bottom stair and waited some more.

  When he finally heard Jillian’s footsteps, he came to his feet, pleasure strumming through his senses.

  As she approached the top of the stairs, Jack materialized out of the shadows, and stood at the bottom, his arms open wide. “Jump.”

  She came to a stop. “You’re crazy. I’m not jumping.”

  “Come on. Live dangerously.”

  “You don’t understand,” she said, her voice low like Jack’s. “I don’t live dangerously.”

  “Want a string of five second fucks?”

  She went still.

  “I’ll catch you. Then you’ll get as many as you want.”

  “How do I know that?”

  “What? Whether I’ll catch you?”

  “No, the other.”

  “My word’s good.” He figured she didn’t want the details.

  “I shouldn’t.”

  He was tempted to offer up some of the less lurid particulars about sequential orgasms, but quickly quashed that impulse. “Yeah, you should,” he said instead. “Think positive and good things happen.” On his better days, he even half believed it.

  She shook her arms like a swimmer about to dive. “You’re going to catch me now?”

  “Cross my heart.” He solemnly gestured.

  “Okay, on three. You’re sure now? I won’t be too heavy?”

  “I’m sure. You’re a featherweight.”

  “Maybe I should go down a few more stairs.” She began to move.

  “Every step you lose an orgasm.”

  She brought her foot back.

  “Come on, show me you can fly.” She shut her eyes and took a swan dive jump before he’d finished speaking. Leaping up four stairs, he caught her, but then he’d had a lot of practice catching bad throws on the football field. “See? Easy.” He grinned, turned and dropped to the floor in a single bound.

  With a little laugh, she said, “That was fun.”

  “Told ya.”

  “You’re quick.”

  “Good reflexes. Useful in my profession.”

  “Really, though, thanks.” She smiled. “One forgets to play.”

  “I’m not surprised--with your responsibilities.”

  She put her finger over his mouth. “Not tonight.”

  “Agreed. And you’re waiting for those five second fucks.”

  “That would be lovely.”

  He liked her directness. No game playing or artifice. “Zeke’s good for a while? Silly question, sorry.”

  “Do not let me make a sound.”

  Short of a gag, that wasn’t a sure thing. “No problem,” he said politely.

  She giggled. “You’re so freaking nice.”

  “Being nice to you is easy. Don’t ask me why? I have no explanation. But after a couple of bad days, you make me smile. That’s all I know.”

  “You’re my prize. Does that sound terrible? You just are. A gift.” She made a moue. “Gah. Super inarticulate.”

  “That’s okay. Talking about feelings…” He grimaced.

  “Same here. So we’re doing fast and furious? I can hardly wait.”

  “I’m getting in on this too. So I can hardly wait.”

  Their fourth orgasm ended on the kitchen table in a sweaty, panting, no-holds-bared frenzy that lit their worlds on fire.

  “This—tonight, you…is all too crazy, rash, wild. Seriously.” Trying not to pant, half-swooning, Jillian looked up at Jack. “I don’t do wild. I never have.”

  You coulda fooled me. Jack leaned over, kissed her gently, then smiled and helped her sit up. “We’ll take it easy, then,” he said, polite as hell. “You set the pace from now on.”

  “Hey.” She touched his arm. “Are you placating me?”

  “Sorta.” She was smiling so he didn’t have to lie. “Wild or not wild, it’s all in your head. Don’t worry about it.”

  She grinned. “You’ll worry about it I suppose.”

  “That’s what I’m here for.” He grinned back. “To take all your worries away.”

  Chapter 34

  Waking up alone in her bed, Jillian glanced at the clock and immediately panicked. Zeke never slept this late. Tossing the covers aside, she leaped out of bed, grabbed a pair of jeans from a chair and jerked them on. Jack must have left, and god knows where Zeke was. Her heart racing, she pulled a t-shirt from a shelf near her bed, slipped it over her head, and jamming her arms through the sleeves, sprinted for the door.

  Once when she’d accidently dozed off on the grass next to Zeke’s wading pool, Zeke had gone “on venture,” he’d said when Em had brought him back. Luckily Em had been pruning her roses in the front yard or Zeke might have kept walking down the road. Please, please, let him be safe.

  Halfway to the door, she heard a trill of childish giggles drifting in through the open window, Jack’s deep chuckle following in counterpoint. Her legs turned to rubber, she dropped to the floor and half-faint with relief, sat utterly still while her terror faded.

  Although Zeke’s squeals of laughter hastened her recovery.

  Was there anything Jack couldn’t do?

  Still warmed by memories of last night, her son’s delight ringing in the air, the answer was no. A deeply contented, no.

  Rising to her feet, she quickly ran a brush through her curls, pinched a little color into her cheeks, thought briefly about dressing in something more attractive, and grimaced. Her wardrobe was limited and when it came to mornings-after, Jack had probably seen it
all—fancy lingerie, fresh makeup and hair, buck naked or variations thereof. None of which were going to happen with Zeke downstairs, although options one and two would have been hopeless anyway. Her fancy lingerie consisted of Hanes economy packs, as for make-up, let’s just say, she didn’t inherit her mother’s hand/eye coordination.

  So what you see is what you get, she rationalized, using her favorite coping mechanism. Maybe Jack didn’t pay attention to women’s clothes anyway. Seriously, he knew how to focus where it really mattered, as in just that perfect--Stop, stop! Not a good time. Zeke was awake.

  Taking a deep breath, she walked out of the bedroom.

  A few moments later, she stepped through the open doorway to the porch and couldn’t help but smile. The disparity in size between the two figures kneeling in front of a tool box was huge. “Morning, boys.”

  Leaping to his feet, Zeke pointed at the screen door propped against the porch wall. “Mommie, me fix scream door!”

  Jack glanced up, then stood with a smooth, effortless grace. “Morning.” He gave Jillian a slow up and down look. “How’re you feeling?”

  She flushed a rosy pink at the warmth in his voice. “Good. Perfect.” A deeper shade of red colored her cheeks at recall of his particular perfection and she quickly changed the subject. “How long have you two been up?”

  “Zeke and I watched the sun rise. He picked out his clothes.” Pointing at Zeke’s choice of swim trunks and Lion King rain jacket, he raised a brow. “There was no talking him out of it.”

  “Me smell rain, Mommie.”

  “Ah. Our renter follows the weather,” she explained, keeping one eye on Zeke who was picking up a large hammer. “Jerry’s nice enough to let Zeke play with all the equipment.”

  Renter? Were they close? How close? “Nice of him,” Jack said instead because he liked to think he was a reasonable man.

  “It’s a her. Jerry’s a dear and the rent really helps.”