10
“YES, I THINK YOU MIGHT be wearing one now,” he murmured.
Kate didn’t reply, couldn’t even speak as he traced the tips of his fingers across her sensitive nipple. Then he moved his hand lower, to cup her breast. Stepping even closer, until their hips brushed, he brought his other hand up. When he passed his open palm against her other breast, making the fabric of her top scrape the other distended nipple, she shuddered.
“Jack…”
“Shh,” he whispered, his mouth so close to her hair she felt the warmth of his breath. “I’m not sure yet. I think I need to test some more before I decide if you are.”
“Please do,” she said with a tiny whimper.
He did, cupping, squeezing lightly. He caught her nipples between fingers on each hand, tweaking them, making sparks shoot from there straight down to her crotch. Her legs shook as heat and moisture flooded her shorts.
“Yes, you are,” he finally said. Thankfully he didn’t pull his hands away.
“So, Kate, let’s recap. You wear seductive lingerie for your own pleasure. You carry a vibrator in your purse and use a battery-powered tongue whenever you want an orgasm.”
She nodded mindlessly, agreeing, anything as long as he continued the stroking of her breasts.
“There’s one thing you haven’t mentioned. Something I know you like.”
She instantly knew what he meant and whimpered.
“Penetration,” he continued, dragging out the word as if it were a caress. “Deep, hard, erotic penetration.”
“Yes.” She arched her back, offering more of herself, her fingers itching to grab the bottom hem of her shirt and lift it so she could get even more of his intimate attention.
His hands moved away, caressing her waist, her back, her hip. “Can you get that from your toys or playthings?” he asked, as if he didn’t know she was about to crawl out of her own skin out of sheer, undiluted need.
“No.” Aroused to the point of pain, she shifted, pushing her pelvis toward his and grinding against the huge erection she could easily feel against her body. The moisture between her legs doubled, the electric awareness thrumming through her body quadrupled. Not questioning the impulse, knowing she had to touch him or die, she slipped her hand between their bodies to cup him through his jeans. “Nothing compares to this.”
He hissed as her fingers tightened around him.
He suddenly got serious, obviously realizing she wasn’t playing sexy games anymore. “You’re sure?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“Here?”
“Uh-huh. But there’s no table,” she said as she continued to caress him.
“Floor’ll do,” he muttered before catching her mouth in a wet, carnal kiss. She melted against him, rapidly refamiliarizing herself with the taste of his mouth, the sweetness of his tongue. The feel of his long, hard body pressed against hers.
One hand slipped from her breast down to the waistband of her shorts. He tugged it free, stroking her belly, her waist, then higher until his fingers were inches from her nipples. No cloth barrier this time, she knew it wouldn’t take much and she’d be coming right then and there.
That would be lovely. But this time she didn’t want to be the only one completely out of control, brought to ever higher peaks of ecstasy by Jack.
She wanted to be the one turning him into a raging, living, breathing hormone.
“I love kissing you,” she said with a whimper when their lips parted. “I want to kiss you everywhere.”
His eyes widened in understanding as she dropped to her knees in front of him. “Kate…”
“Hush.”
Her hand trembled as she unbuttoned, then unzipped, his jeans. He wore white boxer briefs, which did little to hold back his erect penis. Her mouth watered, then went dry as she savored that long moment of anticipation that probably lasted no longer than a few erratic beats of her heart.
Finally, once again, she would see him. Touch him. Taste him. Working the briefs down, she held her breath, watching as his hard-on was revealed. She moaned at the sight, remembering how it had given her such pleasure their first time. Knowing he’d give her more pleasure tonight.
But not yet. Not until he was completely out of control.
Jack didn’t want her to proceed. He’d been walking around in a state of arousal for weeks, and as she leaned closer to his cock, her lips brushing the sensitive skin at its tip, he nearly lost it. “Kate…” he said with a moan as her tongue flicked out, just a touch, a tiny caress to taste the moisture there.
“Remember what you said that day on the stage, Jack? Well, fair’s fair. I like taste, too.”
Then she moved her lips over him and took him into her mouth. “Ah, Kate.” He moaned, dropping his head back. He clenched his fists, let her suck him, surrounding him with hot, wet sweetness and gentle pressure. When he felt her hand slide between his legs to cup his balls, his eyes shot open and he looked down at her.
Her head moved slowly, back and forth, sucking him deep, then pulling away until she’d almost released him completely.
“Kate, please, you’ve got to let me…”
“Watch,” she murmured between one smooth stroke of her mouth and the next. When she tilted her head and glanced to the right, toward the mirror, he followed her gaze.
And nearly lost his mind.
Feeling her wet strokes. Hearing her coos of pleasure that said she really liked what she was doing. Seeing part of his body disappearing between those beautiful lips of hers.
He couldn’t take another second.
“Enough,” he growled, taking her by the shoulders and pushing her back.
Their clothes—with the exception of Kate’s front-less bra—were gone within twenty seconds. He was between her upraised legs ten beyond that.
“Condoms are in there,” she muttered, pointing to a box near his hip.
Jack didn’t even look as reached for it, feeling around with his hand while he kissed Kate senseless. “You knew what that would do to me,” he whispered against her lips.
“I kinda hoped,” she said with a sultry chuckle. “I wasn’t ready to stop.”
“Not now,” he told her. She panted as he sucked her earlobe, and hissed when he caught her breast in his hand. “Our first time back together…we’ll go at the same time.”
She gasped and arched up, grinding her hips into him. “Go at the same time? Do you mean…in the numerical sense?”
It took him a second to grasp her meaning. When he did, the image she suggested—giving each other oral pleasure at the same time—flooded his mind, making him even harder. Even more frantic.
“Hate to have to break it to you, but you’re definitely not sweet, Kate Jones,” he said with a ragged laugh.
“Thank heaven.”
He ran the flat of his palm down her body to her hip. Then he slid his fingers into her curls, into the slick, hot crevice, knowing she was ready. “Except maybe here,” he whispered as he slid his finger into her.
She tightened around him, moaning and bumping against his hand. He gave her what she wanted, flicking her tight little * with his thumb until she cooed, then inserting another finger into her, stroking her G-spot from within. “Yeah, you’re very sweet here.” He could tell by her cries she was within seconds of climaxing.
“No fair. We’re supposed to go together this time,” she said with a whimper.
Before he knew what she was doing, she’d pushed him, rolled him over so she could straddle him on the floor. “Better.”
Looking up at what had to be the most glorious sight on the planet, he had to agree.
Kate stared down at him, seeing the passion and admiration he could never have feigned. He was hard beneath her bottom, and close to where she wanted him. She shifted slightly until his penis slid into the wet folds of skin concealing her opening.
He growled.
“What? Not good?” She knew damn well it was.
“You know it’s good. It’s just not enough.”
“Anxious, are we?”
He ripped open the condom with his teeth, showing her how anxious he was. She took a glance at their reflection, amazed at the sensuality of the moment. She slid back and forth over him, using his hardness to stroke her *oris until she gasped.
“You like watching, too.” Jack’s stare met hers in the mirror.
She nodded. Then, knowing he watched her every move, Kate slid her hands up her body, until she cupped her own breasts.
“Keep going.”
She did, catching her nipples between her fingers. “Mmm. But not as good as your hands.”
He complied, replacing her hands with his own, then leaning up to suck one nipple deeply into his mouth.
Kate had her first orgasm instantaneously. She was still shuddering from it as she plucked the condom from his fingers and moved out of the way to roll it down over him.
When he was fully sheathed, she held herself above him. She caught his stare and held it. Then, with aching precision and slowness, she slid down on him, taking him completely into her body, inch by endless inch, until he’d filled her up so much she felt complete for the first time in ages.
“Yes,” she said with a contented sigh.
“Yes,” he echoed.
She didn’t move at first, just sat there, absorbing him, stroking him with muscles deep within her body. She saw him clench his fist and tilt his head back in pleasure.
“More?”
He nodded, reaching for her hips. “Definitely more, Kate.”
Then he started to move below her, thrusting upward. She met every stroke with one of her own, amazed at how quickly their bodies synchronized to one another.
It was hot. Energetic. Frenzied.
But also something else. There were moments when they’d meet each other’s eyes and smile. When he’d reach up to brush her hair off her sweat-dampened cheek. Or he’d rub his thumb across her lower lip, then tug her down for a slow, wet kiss that somehow felt even more personal than the mating of their lower bodies.
He’d slow the pace, drag out the pleasure, until Kate felt her legs tremble with near exhaustion.
“Let me,” he said as he held her around the waist. He rolled her over, staying inside her, his face inches from hers. Another kiss. Another stroke.
She turned her head and saw them in the mirror. Saw him holding his beautifully hard body above hers on his thick, strong arms. Saw his shoulders flex, his back strain, his gorgeous, tight butt move up and down as he pumped into her over and over again, so deep she had to gasp for breath. She clutched his shoulders, wrapped her legs around his hips and met him thrust for thrust.
She sensed the minute he’d gone too far to hold back. And as soon as he had, he braced himself on one arm, bringing his other hand between their bodies. “Come with me, honey.”
And, of course, Kate did.
* * *
“I’M SORRY I didn’t call,” he whispered a few minutes later. They lay together on the newly carpeted floor, wrapped in each other’s arms, exchanging lazy kisses and slow caresses.
He felt her stiffen against him. Then she asked, “Sorry because you had to wait for this?”
“No, I’m not sorry that way. I mean, I apologize for not calling you, Kate. I thought I had good reasons—and maybe I did. But I thought about you constantly and I never stopped wanting to see you again.”
She tilted her head back to study his face. “Good reasons. And that’s all you’re going to say?”
He nodded once, knowing he couldn’t elaborate. The truth of the long-term relationship between his father and her mother was tough enough for him to deal with. He didn’t want to burden Kate with it. Her mother was still alive—the past needed to die.
“Just tell me one thing, okay? Tell me it wasn’t because you’re involved with someone else. If I find out you’re married, engaged or engaged to be engaged, I won’t be responsible for my actions.”
He chuckled. “No. I’m completely unattached. Or, rather, I was until I met you.”
She smiled languorously and leaned over to press a sweet, wet kiss on his mouth. He held her tighter.
“Can I ask you something?” she asked.
“Anything.” Knowing the way Kate’s mind worked, she was probably about to ask him something sexual and intense, getting them both hot and ready to go again. His mouth went dry in anticipation, knowing they could play sensual games here all night long. He definitely wanted to try some different positions in front of the mirrors.
“Do you know how to play Bunko?”
“I’ve never heard of it.” He raised a hopeful brow. “Is it some kind of sex game?”
She bit her lip as she giggled. “I certainly hope not.” He felt her shoulders shaking as her laughter increased. “Good grief, a sex game. Can you imagine? The women of Pleasantville gathering every other week to play a sex game in someone’s living room? Complete with prizes and bourbon?”
“I think you could stock the prizes from right here at Bare Essentials.”
She giggled even more. “Oh, my, I can just imagine Eileen Saginaw trying to choose her prize from between the strap-on vibrator or the two-headed dildo.”
He rolled onto his back, tugging her with him until she lay on his chest. Her hair blanketed his stomach, flowing all the way down to his groin. He ran his fingers through its silkiness as he caressed her back, hip and bottom.
“So why are you asking about it?”
“It’s some kind of dice game. I’ve been invited to come over to play with some of the women tomorrow night. I don’t know much about it. The friends I hang out with in Chicago are more into lunch dates, shopping trips and cocktail parties than Tupperware gatherings or Bunko nights.”
Her mention of cocktail parties reminded him of something. Knowing it was a long shot, given Kate’s dislike of the Lilac Hill set in town, he asked anyway. “Speaking of parties, I’ve been asked to attend one at city hall Saturday night. A welcome reception for the new mayor.”
She stiffened in his arms.
“I’d like you to come with me, Kate.”
He could have predicted her answer. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”
“Come on, what’s the big deal? You’re obviously getting involved with some of the townspeople, anyway. With your big Bunko orgy and all.”
She laughed, probably in spite of herself. “It’s not the same thing. Those are not the same type of townspeople.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Oh, so you’re a snob? You choose to associate only with your kind of people?”
When fire flashed in her eyes, he knew he’d said just the right thing. He prodded further. “Come on, you know you’re every bit as good as any other person here. You’re probably worth more than anyone who lives on Lilac Hill. Don’t let childhood hurts affect the decisions you make today.”
She sucked in a deep breath, staring at his face. He saw a variety of expressions rush across her face…hurt, confusion, then acceptance. “You’re right,” she whispered.
“That’s my girl. The party is at eight.”
“I’m sure I have something in my closet I could wear.”
“Crotchless tights?” he asked hopefully.
She lightly bit the skin just above his nipple. “It’s a little hot for that.” As he sighed in disappointment, she whispered, “But probably perfect for crotchless panties.”
* * *
THE NEXT AFTERNOON, as she stood in front of her closet trying to figure out what one wore to a Bunko night, Kate’s cell phone rang. When she heard Cassie’s voice, she told her about her plans for the evening.
“Are you sure it’s a game, and not some swinging women’s party with male strippers and livestock?”
Kate snorted. “Why, would you like to come?”
“Nah, can’t do it. I’m on my way outta town.”
Pausing with a jean skirt and a red peasant blouse in her hand, Kate said, “Where do you think you’re going?”
When Cassie explained she was making a quick weekend trip to New York for her agent’s birthday, Kate tried to talk her out of it. Cassie was not to be dissuaded. She was sick of hiding out like a victim. She was going. Period.
“All right, Cass, but please promise me you’ll be careful. And call me when you’re leaving Sunday afternoon so I can drive up to the airport to get you.”
Kate cut the connection before she remembered to tell Cassie about tomorrow night’s cocktail party. Just as well. She still couldn’t believe she’d agreed to go, and wasn’t sure she could make Cassie understand why.
Hell, she barely understood why herself. She only knew something had changed within her. Somehow, from the time she’d seen Mrs. McIntyre outside the Tea Room the day before, Kate had been unable to stop thinking about everything that had happened.
She’d been angry for years because Mrs. McIntyre hated her without reason. Now she wondered—was she any different? Darren’s mother hated the Tremaine family because her husband had taken up with Flo. Kate had hated the Winfields because John Winfield had strung her mother along for two decades.
Yes, she had reason to resent Angela because of Darren, and prom night. But, really, who the hell cared what had happened in high school, ten years ago? No, she and Angela would never be friends, but there wasn’t any reason they should be enemies, either. John Winfield was dead. His family wasn’t responsible for his sins…they didn’t even know about them! So what kind of hypocrite would she be to keep blaming them?
The thought rankled.
“And Jack.” She had no reason to dislike Jack. Yes, she’d been hurt when he hadn’t called her, but she sensed he was being truthful when he’d said he thought he had good reason.
She didn’t want to put herself at the same level as Mrs. McIntyre—an angry, bitter person who blamed the wrong people for hurting her. Had she become so focused on self-protection, on not letting herself be hurt or abused, that she’d also denied herself the chance to build genuine emotion with a man?
Maybe it was time to rethink a lot of things.
Kate was still mulling over the whole revenge plan when she arrived at Eileen Saginaw’s house that night. The older woman, who’d raised five kids and now had ten grandkids, gave Kate a hug and immediately asked her a bunch of questions about Edie.
“Last time we talked, she was determined to learn how to play golf so she could join a club in the retirement village,” Kate said, pleased at the fondness in the other woman’s voice.
Every woman at the party sounded just as regretful that Edie had left. There were no whispers here. No one acted as though some deep, dark scandal had forced Edie out. Not one person made Kate feel—in the three hours she stayed—the way the biddies in the Tea Room had made her feel in three minutes during her first visit back to town.
These were the real women of Pleasantville. And she was shockingly grateful she’d found them.
“Kate, I’m telling you, stop shaking the dice so much. That’s why you keep getting snake eyes,” Diane informed her as Kate prepared to take another turn late in the evening.
Kate blew an impatient, frustrated breath as she reached for her drink. Not bourbon—she didn’t do bourbon. But thankfully someone had brought beer. “How can it be called snake eyes when there are three dice?” she muttered as she lost yet again, with all ones. “Snakes have two eyes, not three.”
“Well, don’t forget, there are snakes with one,” Josie said with a suggestive wagging of her eyebrows.
When Kate gave her a confused look, Josie explained, using a bad Australian crocodile hunter accent. “I’m face-to-face with the deadly, one-eyed trouser snake, known to lead men into dark, dangerous places, and to enslave women with its potent power.”
After a five-second pause all twelve women seated at the three card tables in Eileen’s living room whooped with laughter.
It was, of course, inevitable that with each roll of the dice, the conversation degenerated into some outrageous sex talk. Kate figured it was standard operating procedure, given how freely the women spoke to one another, though, she had a really hard time picturing her mother here as part of it.
“You know, it’d almost be worth it to test that Viagra stuff, just to see if it’d be noticeable if I put it in Hank’s coffee every morning,” one woman introduced as Viv said.
“You mean, slip it to him, like a mickey? But how would you know if you gave him enough?” another asked.
Eileen reached for the dice. “Just keep pouring until the kitchen table starts rising off the floor right over his lap.”
Josie snickered. “Yeah, I can see you explaining it to the doctor when Hank has a heart attack ’cause all his blood’s trapped in his winky.”
“At least he’d die happy,” Diane pointed out.
“Please don’t tell me I have to wait till my husband’s a corpse before I can see him with a decent hard-on again.” Viv poured herself another drink.
When the laughter died down, Kate spoke up. “Have you tried seducing him? Letting him know you’re interested?”
Viv grunted. “Sure. Unfortunately, after he drinks the six-pack of Bud I’ve bought him to warm him up, he doesn’t notice I’ve shaved my legs and I’m not wearing my period underwear.”
Kate chuckled. “I mean it. Sexy lingerie, candles, scented massage oils. Then you tell him you’ve rented a special movie.”
“The only thing he likes is Arnold Schwarzenegger blowing up stuff. Which isn’t exactly my idea of romance.”
“I meant something a little more…titillating.”
“Oh, sure,” Viv said with a groan. “I’ll drive over to Emmitsburg to the Triple-X video store, fight off all the winos hanging around near the nickel booths, and rent some big-boobed-lesbians-in-love flick. Sounds like a real romantic evening.”
“I didn’t mean porn,” Kate explained patiently. “There are erotic videos made for women and couples.”
Hot sellers at Bare Essentials.
“Yeah, but I bet they don’t show penises, do they?” This from Josie who sounded indignant. “I mean, every erotic movie for couples I’ve seen—back when I lived in a town that had heard of such things—is camera-shy below the waist on the guy.”
Kate shrugged. “Is that so surprising? Isn’t the point to get your man worked up—not yourself? I don’t think many men are into seeing the competition, and women don’t need as much visual stimulation, which is why adult movies are geared toward men.”
The women all thought about it. Then Viv sighed again. “You may be right, Kate, and if this were Chicago, I’m sure I could stroll to the neighborhood store to stock up on erotic movies. But this sure ain’t Chicago.”
Her disappointed sigh was echoed by every woman in the room. Right then and there, Kate started wondering if maybe Jack had been right. Maybe, just maybe, opening a Bare Essentials right here in Pleasantville wasn’t such a crazy idea after all.
As the evening drew to a close, Kate found herself one of the last women there. She’d tried to leave earlier, but Eileen had put a quiet hand on her arm and asked her to stick around. Finally, after Diane and Josie exchanged hugs and one last round of man jokes, they said goodbye and left.
“Let me help you clean up,” Kate said, though the room wasn’t too bad. Part of the rules of Bunko night—hostess’s house didn’t get left in a shambles.
Kate helped Eileen take the tablecloths off the card tables and began to fold them. “I can’t tell you how much I enjoyed tonight. I appreciate all of you making me feel so welcome.”
Eileen gave her a sweet smile, which made her gray eyes twinkle. “Katey, I am so glad you’re here, even if you don’t plan to stay—and I guess you don’t.”
She shook her head.
“Anyway, I wish you’da come back sooner. Not that I’m criticizing. Three of my kids left, too. This town can be awfully hard on its residents sometimes.”
“Yeah.” She wondered if Eileen knew how hard. No, Eileen didn’t live on Lilac Hill, but she was married to a nice, well-liked gas station owner, and her beauty parlor, down in the basement, was a hot spot for most local women. So she probably hadn’t experienced the worst Pleasantville had to offer.
“I guess you know it was hard on your mom and that’s why she left. I wish she hadn’t, it wasn’t but a few nasty people.”
Kate laid the folded tablecloth on Eileen’s dining room table. “I’m sure you’re right.”
Eileen held her eye, gauging how much to say. Then, obviously seeing something in Kate’s expression, she said, “You know, don’t you. You know about Edie and John.”
Kate’s jaw dropped. “I’m surprised you do.”
“Oh, darlin’, your mom and I have been friends since eighth grade. I was there the first time she saw him, the first time he asked her out. Heck, we double-dated to our senior prom.”
“Wait…you mean Mom dated John Winfield in high school?”
“Well, sure. Didn’t you know that? The two of them were quite the talk of the town in those days, what with your mom being a Tremaine and all. He didn’t care a bit. The two of them were crazy about each other.”
Shocked, Kate leaned against the table. “What happened?”
Eileen sighed. “They had a fight about something stupid. John went and did something even more stupid with Pat Pickering. She told him she was pregnant the day after graduation.”
Pregnant? With Jack? She quickly calculated—no, couldn’t be right, that would make Jack close to forty.
Eileen ushered her into the kitchen, putting on the kettle to make tea. “Edie found out, broke it off with John and left town. John married Pat. When there was no baby several months later, he came to me asking where Edie was. I told him the truth. She was happy with her new life in Florida. He stayed married to Pat and they made a go of it, I guess.”
“Years later, Dad died and Mom came back,” Kate whispered.
Eileen poured some tea, then sat. “First loves never die. John was so sad, trapped by Pat, his job, the town.” Eileen shrugged. “Edie made him happy…they made each other happy. But she would never have let him leave Pat and those children.”
A half hour later, after one of the most shocking and revealing conversations she’d ever experienced, Kate hugged Eileen goodbye and headed home. She wanted more than anything to call her mother, just to hear her voice. Edie seemed so different to her now, not a victim anymore, but a woman in love who did the best she could with what she was dealt.
Kate didn’t know whether to applaud her or to cry for her.
When she arrived home, she immediately looked toward Jack’s side of the duplex, to see if any lights were on. He’d told her he’d wait up, saying he wanted the full scoop on the Bunko orgy. Judging by all the lights, he’d kept his word.
She pulled into the driveway, surprised when she saw a rental car parked there. Unsure who would be visiting at this late hour, she walked up to the porch and glanced in the window.
When she saw the dark-haired person sitting on the couch, and realized who it was, she hurried into the house and launched herself into his arms.