Sensual Secrets

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Sensual Secrets Page 9

by Jo Leigh


  In my dream, he kissed me, and I was dressed while he was naked, and I got to touch him wherever I wanted to. His chest, his nipples, the indent on the side of his behind. I got to take his hard length in my hand, and in my mouth. He offered himself to me, and I took it. Selfishly. Disregarding his modesty, his needs.

  It was wonderful.

  This doesn’t feel like my life.

  Jay knew exactly what she meant. It wasn’t his life, either. It was better.

  He logged off, put his empty coffee cup in the sink, grabbed his jacket and headed out.

  9

  AMELIA LOOKED UP the moment Jay walked in the door. As always, so did every other customer in the café. She blushed, naturally, and looked down, but only for a moment. She had to see if he searched her out, if he smiled when he saw her. If the hunger was still there.

  Her gaze moved up his black jeans, pausing at his fly. No, it was her imagination. Even if there was a bulge, it didn’t mean anything. He wore a gray shirt, something slinky and retro under his ever-present leather jacket. Nice. Very nice. Finally, she dared to look at his face. His lips curved into a sexy grin and he didn’t notice anyone else, and the hunger was there, alive in his eyes. With every step, her awareness heightened, and nervous excitement coursed through her body, settling in the juncture of her thighs.

  She knew his body, now. She’d seen his chest, his hips. She’d seen it all, and it was stunning. But the knowledge changed things. The stakes had been raised. It wasn’t theoretical any longer. She couldn’t deny that he wanted her. Which made her desire for him nearly unbearable.

  He reached her table, pulled a chair from the workstation next to hers and straddled it. So close his knee touched her leg, sending heat to all the important places.

  “Hey, gorgeous.”

  Her blush deepened. “Hi.”

  “Studying?”

  She nodded. “I’ve got a term paper due soon.”

  “Pity.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I want to take you away.”

  Her heart fluttered. “You do?”

  He nodded. His grin had gone, but there was still that look in his eyes that said he wanted to do much more than take her away.

  “Where?”

  “You’ll find out.”

  “But I have to study.”

  “Okay.”

  She frowned. Such arrogance to sit there so smugly. She should tell him to leave, just so he’d know she wasn’t putty in his hands. Even if she was.

  Her hand went to the mouse almost of its own accord, and she saved her work, made a backup on a floppy disk. When she turned to him again, he was standing, holding out his hand.

  She placed her palm in the warm cradle, let him help her up. He didn’t let go when she stood next to him. His nearness made it hard to breathe, and she felt light-headed, dizzy with his scent, a mixture of soap and musk, and with his heat. His warm breath caressed her cheek, and she turned to face him squarely.

  She didn’t realize she’d been praying for his kiss until his lips touched hers. Then all she could think of was “Thank you.”

  He pulled back after a quick flick of his tongue on her lower lip. “Come on,” he whispered in a voice like black velvet.

  Her bag in her free hand, she followed him from the café, vaguely wondering if she’d remembered to log out.

  His bike was at the curb. He handed her a helmet, then frowned.

  “What?”

  “You don’t have a jacket?”

  “I was going home after I finished working.”

  “How far away is your place?”

  “About four blocks.”

  He put on his helmet, climbed on the bike, and waited for her to do the same. She hesitated, and he cocked his head to the right.

  She was chilly already. It would be stupid to freeze just so Jay wouldn’t meet her roommates. She gave him her address, but she had a bad feeling she’d just made a terrible mistake.

  IT WAS NONDESCRIPT in the way so many New York buildings were. Six stories, no doorman. That wasn’t so good. Jay parked the bike and, after he pocketed his keys, headed toward the door. But Amelia hesitated.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” She gave him a brave grin, which proved that she’d just lied, then led him inside. Her elevator worked quickly, and it smelled like lemons, which was a big improvement over wet dog. They stopped on the third floor, the second door on the right.

  After fumbling with the three locks, she finally got the door open, and music hit him square in the chest. Loud music. Creed. So she didn’t live alone.

  “Come on in,” she said, grimacing at the pounding beat. “My roommates like testing the sound barrier.”

  “I can tell.”

  “One minute.” She had to yell over the throbbing bass. With a determined pull to her lips, she headed toward the back of the flat and disappeared behind a door.

  Jay looked around. The apartment wasn’t bad, as far as Manhattan apartments went. There was an actual living room and kitchen. Some students he’d known lived in shoe boxes, with bathtubs in the kitchen. This place was downright roomy.

  He could see Amelia’s touch. Not in the scattered high heels by the couch, or the newspaper spread on the floor, but in the curtains—white with blue stripes, tied with a satin ribbon. Her mark was on the flower arrangement resting on the mantel, and the candles by the wing chair.

  “Hello.”

  He turned toward the low, feminine voice. A blonde smiled at him from the hallway.

  “And who might you be?”

  “Jay.”

  Her smile showed off even white teeth and an invitation. “I’m Donna.”

  “Hi.”

  She walked toward him, moving like she knew how to use her body. Her sweater was just small enough to show every damn curve, but just big enough to keep her from an indecent exposure charge. She’d poured herself into her jeans. Oh, yeah. She knew what she was doing.

  “Did you come here with someone? Or is this destiny?”

  The music stopped so suddenly it hurt. The silence pulsed for a few seconds, and then Amelia came back, wearing a dark blue sweater over her jeans. A brunette in leggings and a sweatshirt followed close on her heels.

  “Hey, Donna, who’s your friend?”

  “He doesn’t belong to me,” the blonde said, “which is such a shame.”

  “I’m Kathy,” the woman in leggings said, holding out her hand. Her nails were long, painted a dark red.

  He shook her hand. “Jay.”

  “So, how did you meet Tabby?”

  He looked at Amelia, then back at Kathy. “Tabby?”

  “You’re not with…?”

  He walked over to Amelia, and slipped his arm around her waist. “You ready, babe?”

  The looks she got from her roommates told him a hell of a lot. They didn’t know anything about Amelia, either of them. He doubted very much they had even tried to know her.

  She smiled up at him. “Let me get my coat.” She disappeared down that same hallway.

  “You’re with Amelia?” Donna asked.

  “Yeah, I am. Why?”

  “Well, I just…” Donna looked imploringly at Kathy.

  “She doesn’t date much.”

  “Lucky me.”

  Kathy studied him, clearly perplexed. “Where did you meet her?”

  He didn’t care for these girls. And they were “girls,” no matter their age. “I met her in a café.”

  Kathy came closer. “So, you’ve known her a while?”

  “Long enough.”

  Donna approached him from the other side. “Is it the jeans? Those are my jeans, you know.”

  He arched his brow. “It’s not the jeans.”

  “Wow.”

  “Yeah. Wow—”

  A flash of movement caught his eye, and he turned to see Amelia, jacket in hand, standing in the hallway. He wondered how much she’d heard. And if she believed him. It had to be murder liv
ing with these two. He crossed the room, took her coat and slipped it on her. Then he put his arm around her waist to walk her out.

  Kathy turned toward Amelia. “You go, girl.”

  Amelia blushed but she didn’t hesitate.

  Jay nodded at Donna as they passed, and he had to chuckle at her confusion.

  He walked Amelia to the door, but just this side of the threshold he kissed her, and he didn’t stop until he was damn good and ready. He grinned at the sighs coming from the roommates, as he and Amelia walked into the hallway.

  THE DREAM CONTINUED as Jay led her back down to his bike. He touched her in a way that changed everything. It was as if her senses had been dull all these years, and whenever he took her hand, or stroked the small of her back, she saw with new eyes. Colors had become more vivid, scents more evocative. On some level, she knew it was a chemical response, but mostly it just felt like magic.

  She still couldn’t get over her roommates’ reaction to Jay, although she wasn’t unreservedly pleased. She understood why they couldn’t picture her with someone like Jay, because she couldn’t picture it. That’s what made her a little sad. That she’d been so sure no one wonderful could want her.

  Her self-esteem needed some work, and so far, Jay was what the doctor ordered. Even as they began their trip, she marveled at the way he made sure her helmet was on correctly, that she was warm, that she held him tightly enough as they zoomed into the street.

  Talk about exhilaration. The wind, the deft maneuvering of the bike, the feel of her breasts pressing into his leather jacket, the vibration between her legs…sensory overload of the most incredible kind.

  She wondered where he would take her. Someplace quiet. Private. A hotel? A secret hideaway? And once they got there, what then? He’d told her straight out that he wanted to make love with her, and although it scared her, she couldn’t deny her own need.

  But they hardly knew each other. Her old-fashioned notions didn’t include sex on a second date. Not even the tenth date. According to her aunt, she shouldn’t even think of such things until the wedding. She’d removed that option several years ago, although she and Kevin had known each other quite a while before they’d gone to bed. Of course, that had ended in abject failure.

  That was what made this adventure with Jay so frightening. After all this time, she still wondered what she’d done wrong that night. How she could have been so unexciting that Kevin had actually fallen asleep!

  If she didn’t know how she’d screwed up, it seemed inevitable that she’d do it again. The thought of Jay falling asleep in the middle of making love made her shudder.

  He turned a sharp corner and her hands tightened around his waist. Such an incredibly buff body. She knew that firsthand. She’d never been this intimate with a man so solid and sculpted. He was like someone from the movies, or at the very least a Calvin Klein billboard.

  They headed uptown, the traffic on the crisp, cool afternoon unusually heavy. She didn’t care where they were going or how fast they got there, because she was already there. This was the place she’d dreamed about. Touching him. Being close to him.

  Only, she could feel the tension in him. His muscles tightened, his chest rose and fell more rapidly. He dodged and darted between cabs and limos and city buses, but no matter how he tried, he couldn’t escape the crush of cars.

  As if the traffic wasn’t bad enough, a sprinkling of raindrops splashed on her visor.

  They slowed for a stoplight, and she leaned close to his ear. “Jay, we don’t have to do this today.”

  He turned his head. “What?”

  “Whatever it is you planned. We can do it another time.”

  He frowned. “I wanted to take you away.”

  She touched his lips with her fingertips. “You already have.”

  He kissed her fingers, and his smile shifted her reality again, turning everything that wasn’t Jay into a bland gray mush.

  “Hang on,” he said, as he turned the bike around. She refused to speculate on where they were going, what they would do. She didn’t want to focus on later. Right now was perfect.

  10

  HE PARKED THE BIKE in a small space between a Hummer stretch limo and a tan Volvo. Amelia didn’t move, even when he cut the engine. He turned his head to look at her, not surprised to see her eyes wide, staring up at the building.

  The Guggenheim Museum was one of the places Amelia had mentioned in her journal. She’d never been here, and it was at the top of her list of places she wanted to visit, along with Trump Plaza, Times Square on New Year’s Eve, the Cloisters, and Central Park during the annual marathon.

  From the looks of her, he’d scored a bull’s-eye. Not that he hadn’t had help. Reading her journal was like having an owner’s manual. He cut his grin short and focused on her. “It’s even better on the inside,” he said. Although the rain was still a light drizzle, that could change in a minute. He didn’t mind riding in a downpour but he wouldn’t subject her to it.

  She nodded, her eyes alight with excitement. Hard to believe she hadn’t been to the Guggenheim. It was one of the most famous museums in the world. He wasn’t sure what the current exhibit was, and he didn’t care. This wasn’t about art appreciation.

  She slipped her helmet off as she dismounted the bike, then shook her head and fluffed her hair. It wasn’t meant to be seductive, but it was. He wondered if a penis could explode from overstimulation. God, he hoped not.

  “I’ve never been here,” she said. “I’ve wanted to come, but I never got around to it. This is great.”

  He tried not to look too cocky as he took her helmet and his and walked up the staircase leading to the main entrance.

  Inside, Amelia’s gaze shot up. It was a natural reaction, and he doubted if anyone but the employees could resist it. The building was round; the ramps to each floor followed the arc. Designed by Frank Lloyd Wright, it was as beautiful as any of the art it showcased.

  He paid for two tickets and checked the helmets and their jackets. He’d seen the Warhol exhibit before, but that was okay, because he didn’t really want to be distracted. Amelia was what fascinated him, and now he had a nice, quiet space to watch her. Learn about her.

  She stopped at one of the first paintings, Warhol’s famous Marilyn Monroe. As she read the commentary and studied the picture, he studied her.

  Her profile made him crazy. Her beautiful hair, little nose, lips almost as pink as her blush. And those eyes. Like a child’s. Inquisitive, guileless, trusting. God, to see her eyes the moment of penetration, the moment of climax.

  He wanted to see her with a sheen of sweat over that perfect skin. Riding him as he lay back, watching her.

  She walked over to the next painting, but he didn’t even bother to glance at it. Something did catch his eye, however. A guy, standing about thirty feet away, checking her out.

  He looked like a college student, like one of the regulars at the café. Brown army coat, backpack, jeans, logger boots. His hair fell in his face, and he kept pushing it back. His attempts at subtlety fell flat as he stole glance after glance.

  Jay put his hand lightly on her shoulder. She smiled up at him, oblivious to the one-act play even though she was the star. He leaned close to her ear and kissed the soft curve of her neck.

  She sighed, and he moved behind her, so close they touched from chest to knees. His hands went to her waist. After a moment’s hesitation, she leaned against him, relaxing in his arms.

  He kissed her neck again as he rubbed her tummy in slow circles. When her head fell back, he nibbled on her earlobe, stroked her soft skin with featherlight laps of his tongue.

  He moved his hands up so his thumbs brushed the bottom of her breasts. It was hard not to sneak underneath her blouse, but he didn’t particularly want to get thrown out.

  Of course, Amelia had something to say about it. She gasped, put her hands on his, stopping him, pulling him away. “No one can see us,” he whispered.

  “There’s someone at th
e next picture.”

  “I know. But the way I’m standing, where we’re standing, he can’t see when I do this.” He moved his hands back into position, so his thumbs just touched the swell of her breasts. The danger made him reckless, but he had to be careful. Not push her too far, too fast. But the feel of her was as enticing as anything he’d ever known. He went back to kissing her neck, teasing her as he grew dizzy from her scent.

  She put her hands on his again.

  “Amelia,” he said, his voice so soft it was barely a whisper. He could almost touch the shell of her ear, he was so close. “Put your hands down, baby.”

  He felt her shiver. “I can’t.”

  “You can. You can trust me. I won’t embarrass you. No one will see.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I’m watching very carefully. Nothing bad is going to happen. I promise.”

  She didn’t move for a long time. He was just about to let it go, when her hands drifted slowly to her sides.

  “Good girl,” he said.

  She jumped a bit, and he almost groaned at his own stupidity. Calling her by her alias from TrueConfessions.com wasn’t very bright. But after a few nervous seconds, he realized she’d reacted to the name without jumping to any conclusions.

  He focused once more, and as he relaxed, so did she. His thumbs made small circles, moving up very gradually. He nibbled her earlobe, and she whimpered softly. Then he looked up, scoped the guy with the backpack.

  He’d moved closer. Not close enough to see, but Jay knew the guy understood the nature of what was happening, if not the details. The fact that Amelia had leaned in to him made their relationship clear. He had to give it to the kid—he was persistent.

  Enough about him. He wanted this to be exciting for Amelia. Daring, yet safe. He rested his chin on her hair and savored the slight scent of green apples. Finally, his thumbs brushed her nipples. Her breath hitched and she stiffened.

 

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