by Nina Pierce
“Damon, you taste so good.” She looked up at him through her lashes and rolled the latex down the length of his cock.
Damon lowered his weight on her, their bodies melting into the leather. She sighed his name, and he ran kisses up her chin, his hand tickling the inside of her thigh, running up her slick folds and circling her aching clitoris.
Damon’s touches were fire on her body, melting her bones and coursing heat through her blood. Julie couldn’t remember ever feeling this relaxed and sexy with a man. Sex had always seemed so mechanical in the past.
Not this night. This night, she floated on a cloud of pleasure, her mind empty of everything but the sensations Damon offered her body. The heat of his skin against her fingers, the spicy smell of his cologne mingled with the scent of her desire, the sound of her name on his lips, and the way he stared at her as if she were a banquet and he was a starving man; all of it sending overwhelming need sizzling over her nerves. Every cell in her body screamed for him, craved this union with Damon and the ecstasy he offered. She didn’t know it could be like this.
“Damon, I want you,” she whispered.
“Julie.” He covered her mouth with his, their tongues battling as he lifted her hips and entered her with exquisite leisure, allowing her body time to adjust to his girth. He stretched her, but she was so wet he entered without pain, filling her completely. He swallowed the moan she couldn’t contain.
“You feel so good, Julie.”
His name was the only coherent word she could form on her lips.
They found their rhythm, each moving their bodies to increase the pleasure. Damon held her arms over her head with one hand. The other slid between them, rubbing the pearled knot of her clitoris, sending her soaring higher with each stroke. Pleasure jolted along her nerves, tingling out to her fingers and toes. Her internal muscles clenched, pulling him deeper. Her world became narrowly focused on the encouragements and epithets he murmured in her ear, the talented teasing of his thumb and the push and pull of his cock. Her back bowed and she held her breath as her world exploded. Her orgasm rolled over her, making her buck against his powerful assault as she rode the breathless wave of ecstasy.
Damon tensed and let out a feral growl as his orgasm overtook him. He pistoned his hips with such wonderful strength all she could do was hold onto him, anchoring herself against the second orgasm slamming into her.
His hips slowed, soothing her quaking channel. He pulled his arm from between their bodies and came down on her, comforting her with his weight. She flexed her internal muscles, milking the last of his bliss. A shudder snaked through his body and she did it again just to hear her name come out of him on a deep moan of satisfaction.
He pulled her close to him, gathering the pieces and holding her tight. Their chests heaved and their hearts pounded against each other. And Julie wasn’t sure she wanted this to be just a one-night stand.
Chapter 4
Julie set down the steaming mug of coffee and flipped on the Saturday morning news as she settled on the couch. Her body was pleasantly sore from her encounter with Damon. Of course her night tangling the sheets and fantasizing in the shower had only added to the thrumming need making her restless.
The memory of their evening had kept the goofy smile lighting her face through breakfast and two loads of laundry.
They’d barely gotten their clothes back on before Elvis had returned to his office last night. Between their flushed faces and the musky odor permeating the office, there’d been no doubt what the two of them had done in his absence. Julie had wanted nothing more than to blend into the wall and disappear as the men had talked and laughed about Damon’s co-workers at the radio station.
Damon might be used to having sex in near public settings, but she had no idea how to handle the hour-after situation. As soon as she could politely extricate herself, Julie had taken the box Elvis offered her and hightailed it out the backdoor to her car with Damon on her heels. She’d left the man who’d rocked her world with a confused expression and a chaste kiss.
She was so not cut out for the casual sex kitten lifestyle.
Well, thinking about him would get her nowhere. She was mooning over a man who’d probably gotten up this morning without a thought of how his evening had ended. She needed to let go of her fantasies and move on.
The tattered box she’d taken from Elvis sat on the coffee table in front of her. Sadness tripped over regret. Had she missed something about Jason’s demeanor the last time she saw him? Julie didn’t think so. But she still wasn’t sure how it had come to this. All she had left of her best friend was an old yearbook, a few faded photographs and a video tape labeled “Jason’s High School Years”. Julie retrieved the stupid kazoo they’d used at basketball games and hummed the school song into the silly toy.
“Calling ducks?”
The kazoo flew from her hand as she turned to find her sister standing in the living room doorway.
“What the hell? Don’t you knock anymore, Deirdre?” Julie lived next door to her parents. It shouldn’t surprise her when a family member showed up, but it certainly could be annoying and inconvenient at times.
“The back door was open.” Deirdre came around the corner from the kitchen, a mug of coffee in one hand, a half peeled banana in the other.
“Help yourself.” Julie picked up her mug of coffee from the table.
“Yeah, thanks,” Deirdre said. “You need more flavored creamer, by the way. I just used the last of it.”
“I’ll remember to put it on our shopping list.” Julie didn’t disguise the sarcasm, but Deirdre either missed it or didn’t bother to acknowledge it. “What’re you doing in town on a Saturday? Don’t you have work at the farmhouse or something?”
“Bri wants to have a barbeque tonight. She’s leaving to do a story in Kansas next week and wants to have everyone over. I needed to do a landscaping estimate, and I thought I’d swing in to invite you and the ’rents to dinner. But they must be out grocery shopping or something.” Deirdre flopped onto the couch, bouncing the cushions, nearly causing Julie to spill coffee down the front of her. “So I thought I’d hang out here for a while until they come home.”
“What if I have plans, Dee? You ever think of that?” Julie hadn’t meant for the question to sound so accusatory, but damn, didn’t her family think she had a life of her own?
“Sure, well…sorry. I just saw your car in the driveway and came over to say ‘hello.’”
“Well, I was thinking about going out tonight.”
“You have a date?”
She hadn’t exchanged numbers with Damon, which was really stupid on her part. Still, her sister didn’t need to know that. “Don’t sound so surprised. I do have a social life. His name’s Damon.” The deception heated her cheeks.
“Sorry.” Deirdre dragged out the word into two long syllables.
Deirdre’s sulky tone washed more guilt over Julie. “Forget it. You’re right. We didn’t make any definite plans for tonight. I’m not doing anything.” Julie set the box on the floor and turned up the television.
“What’s in the box?”
“Some old high school stuff, nothing much.” Julie shrugged, not wanting to talk with Dee about Jason. She focused on the television and flipped channels with the remote.
“…WKOR’s own Demon Jones…morning prime time…”
Flashes of Demon’s face came up on the screen as a commercial broke into the morning programming.
“Boo. Hiss.” Deirdre blew a raspberry at the screen. “The man’s a menace to society.”
“You know him?” Julie asked. She shifted on the couch, her body reacting immediately to the memory of his full lips on her.
“No, I don’t know him.” Deirdre sounded appalled.
“Then how can you judge him?”
“Obviously, sister, you’ve never listened to his drivel that passes as entertainment. He’s an opinionated, misogynistic, sexist pig who does nothing but degrade humankind on his sho
w.” She threw the banana peel at the television where it stuck to Demon’s dimpled smile before dropping on the wooden floor.
“Sheesh. Tell me how you really feel, Dee.”
* * * *
Damon had gone for a run, stacked the recyclables, washed both the Harley and the Saturn, even scrubbed the bathroom and vacuumed through the tiny condo. All before eleven a.m. But nothing eased the unsettled feeling of Julie crawling under his skin. Looking for companionship after getting his rocks off wasn’t the Demon’s usual MO. But then again, the women he usually slept with didn’t have an IQ higher than their weight. Julie definitely had the body, but it was her compassion for her friend that had been the magnet pulling him into her arms.
He’d looked up her number on the internet. Thought about calling, but had dismissed the idea. Dressed the way she’d been, he had no doubt that was how she liked to spend her Friday nights—fast, hot, unencumbered sex. Maybe a string of one-night stands.
That’s all he’d hoped for last night as well. So why was he holding the phone in his hand and sweating like a teenager with a crush? He slammed it into the cradle and decided to go for another run.
Forty minutes later, fresh from his second shower, he sat at the baby grand piano, the only piece of furniture in his living room. Perhaps a little Def Leopard or some classic Stones could ease the ache of this woman who seemed intent on invading his every waking thought. Damon didn’t need to pull sheet music from the bench seat. He’d been playing this instrument far too long not to be able to practice for hours without a single note in front of him.
He let his mind wander, his fingers making the notes in his head a reality. He watched his hands caress the keys, but saw only the ivory white of Julie’s fingers wrapped around his cock. He swayed with the crescendo of the music, hearing only Julie’s cries of ecstasy as she writhed beneath him.
“Shit!” His fists slammed down on the keys, and the piano yelled in protest. Not a nice way to treat his pride and joy. But confusion brought his fists down again. Getting involved with a woman, no matter how beautiful, was a stupid idea. His stay in Delmont was temporary at best.
He stalked from the room, grabbing his helmet on his way to the garage.
* * * *
Dust motes danced on the morning sun, filling the kitchen. Rainbows of color reflected in soap bubbles in the sink as Julie set the last of the breakfast dishes in the drainer. She still wasn’t sure how Dee had talked her into pancakes and cartoons. But that was her little sister.
She should go out and do something. Pick up groceries. Lounge at the lake with a picnic lunch and a book. But none of that held any interest for her.
The box beckoned to her from the living room. There was nothing in it. How would she ever unravel the mystery of Jason? She had had such high hopes with Elvis. But he’d given her nothing but a pitiful container of memories. What was she missing?
Abandoning the dishes, she padded into the other room and hauled the box out from under the corner table where she’d tucked it. She hadn’t wanted Dee to ask her any questions. Her sisters already believed she was nothing but an old maid. Wouldn’t they laugh if they found out she’d turned into an amateur detective to solve a mysterious death that everyone had written off a month ago? The hushed whispers about Jason had finally ground themselves out in the Delmont rumor mill. She should be one of those to let it slip into obscurity. But she couldn’t.
Julie picked up the only thing she hadn’t really inspected—the video. A little walk down memory lane never hurt anyone. This she might enjoy, high school home movies. She pushed the tape into the VCR half of her old media player her parents had given her and hit play.
A picture of the high school gym filled the television screen. The bleachers were crammed with proud parents staring down at a gym floor overflowing with the elementary, middle and high school band members in their red and white uniforms. The date in the corner of the tape informed viewers this was the Christmas concert from her freshman year in high school when the braces made it difficult to play her flute. Julie groaned at the memory.
She hit fast forward. Concerts weren’t exciting when she participated in them. She had no intention of sitting through one on tape. People moved in choppy paces, fingers flew over keys on instruments, feet scurried in jerky tempos, and heads bobbed mechanically back and forth. She giggled. Too bad all unpleasant things in life couldn’t be avoided this way.
The picture of the bright gym morphed into bodies. Two bodies. Two naked bodies. Two very naked male bodies in profile, pumping their hips much too fast for comfort.
Julie hit the play button on the remote, and the picture went to normal speed. The sounds of sexual pleasure pounded out of the television speakers. She hit pause. Frozen in time, Jason stood with his arms around the man bent over in front of him. Even in blurry profile, she recognized her friend.
His right arm held the man tight against his stomach, while his left gripped the thick shaft of the other guy’s erection. She shut the television off and paced. Her heart and heels pounded out the same quick tempo as she paced the floor.
“Julie, this is none of your business.” Her thumbs pressed into her eye sockets, trying to push away the intimate image of Jason with a man. “But maybe this has something to do with Jason’s death.” Julie didn’t know he was gay. Was her friend gay? Or was something here just a little off-kilter?
She forced herself to return to the couch and rewind the tape until the dimly lit room with two men pleasuring each other morphed back into the gym. She pressed the play button again and watched the band members fade away to an empty room.
“That’s not why I’m here, man,” a muffled male voice said off camera. “A little reunion sex, Jase. I’ve missed you.”
Laughter. “Your hand on my dick is making a very persuasive argument.”
Heavy breathing and a shirt flew past the lens, settling on the potted plant to the left of the camera.
“But here? You sure it’s safe?” Julie thought she recognized Jason’s voice, but the sound quality wasn’t good.
“Jesus, of course it’s safe. Just shut up and fuck me.”
Entwined bodies moved into view, hands shucking off jeans until both men stood bare as the day they were born in front of the leather couch. Oh, sweet mother. Julie recognized that inviting leather couch that felt like warm chocolate on your skin. Her nipples peaked at the thought.
She’d been with Damon on that couch—in Elvis’ office.
Julie fell back against her sofa, the weight of her discovery more than she could bear. Was there a chance her encounter with Damon had also been taped? She couldn’t think about that right now. This man with Jason was her priority.
From this side angle, she couldn’t see their faces, but she’d known Jason too long not to recognize his well-developed torso and strong jaw line. Her stomach clenched. This was too personal to watch, but too seductive to turn from.
Jason pulled the man’s back tight to him and buried his face in the other man’s long curls of black speaking muffled words of affection.
The man arched against Jason, begging him to take him. He leaned over the couch and offered himself to her friend. The mystery man’s hair fell forward and covered his silhouette. The low lighting made it impossible to make out any details of the man and the poor sound quality muffled their voices.
Though this wasn’t meant for others to see, Julie couldn’t turn away. If she could get anything, some name or distinguishing feature, she might find a clue about Jason. At the very least, she’d have another person to question about her friend’s death. Julie tried to ignore the men’s intimate sex talk, concentrating instead on Jason’s partner. Focusing on the tattoo on the man’s left shoulder, she wondered if perhaps it could give her clues to his identity. There was something familiar about the mark, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.