Look Closer: No Safe Words Here 1-4 out of 5. Boxed Set (15 page)

I shook my head at my brother’s characteristic ignorance of the ways of the world.

“You’re being blackmailed, Marcus.  That means the blackmailer has something on you that you don’t want anyone knowing about, and so he’s charging you a price for keeping it a secret.”

“But sex…?” His eyebrows scrunched up in consternation.  “That’s just…wrong!”

I scoffed at him, and rolled my eyes.  “You’re fucking a married man…and let’s face it, you’ve been rather cavalier with your carnal partnering.”

“What?”  He looked completely confused.  I’d used too big of words.

“What do they teach you in college…advanced napping?  I’m saying that you’re a slut, and it’s kind of hypocritical that you think being blackmailed for sex, because the douche has a video of you having sex, is wrong.  What you’re doing is just as wrong as what he’s doing.  So suck—it—up!”

I could see the little exercise wheel in his head start to turn.  “But why me?”

“Exactly what I asked.  Seems the little cretin liked what he saw on the video.”

Marcus’ expression dropped.

“Congratulations…” I crooned, “You’re a star.”  I took my hand from the receiver and asked, “Why?”

“I already told you why.”

“No, you told me my brother was hot.  You conveniently left out the why.”

Silence.  Maybe there was a way out of this.  If he wouldn’t tell me why, maybe I could shame him into dropping the whole thing, or at least to bargain the price down to something Marcus would be more willing to pay.  Like maybe a lap dance.  Or take the dork to the prom, it was just around the corner.

“I’m a virgin,” he said, and I felt the bottom of my stomach fall out.  Neville Rogers, the most annoying boy I’d ever met, was a virgin…just like me.

I suddenly had all this empathy for the little douche bag.  And I hated every last quivering little feeling of it.

“I’m nineteen years old—”

“Nineteen?” I interrupted.

“I was held back in first grade…don’t ask.”

“Okay, I won’t.”

“As I said, I’m nineteen, I’m about to graduate Valedictorian of my class…”

Huh, me too.

“And I’ll be damned if I’m going to MIT in the fall having never even been kissed!”

I could feel the acidic pain of what he’d just confided in me, and I felt even more for him.  The poor guy…

But I wasn’t all that surprised he was still a virgin, or that he’d never been kissed.  We met two years ago at math camp, and he was more than just a super smart geek, he was a freak of fucking nature.

He was pale as 2% milk, had naturally white blond hair like he was inbred, and was skinny as a toothpick.  Add onto that the slacker/skater attire he insisted on wearing that drooped over his scarecrow like body, and the piercings to his lips and eyebrows, and he was a disaster.

So the little freak was going to blackmail his way into getting his cherry popped.  I couldn’t throw stones.  I was doing the same damn thing…kind of.  I felt a sudden surge of adrenalin: I was going to have sex with EG, tonight! 

I sooo had too much to get done.  Shaving my legs alone…

“So what are we talking about here?  A hand-job, a blowjob…circle jerk?”

Marcus had plopped down on the couch, holding his head in his hands, but when I’d mentioned sexual favors he sprang from the couch, waving his hands in a no-way cut-off.  I held up my hand and managed to stop him from voicing any opinions that would hurt my negotiations.  Didn’t he get what I was trying to accomplish?

“No way,” Neville said adamantly.  “I know he’s a bottom for Tom Sherwood, but with a piece of meat like that between his legs, he can’t help but be a good top.”

Ewwww…

“Again with too much information.”

“I want the deluxe package, Wilkes—sucking, fucking and kissing—or I post this sucker all over Youtube, Facebook and Twitter, and email a link to Katie fucking Couric!”

Damn, he was as serious as a heart attack.

I tried to stall him.

“Maybe you two could start with a date?  You know…dinner and a movie?”

“No fucking way!  This offer expires tonight.”

“Tonight?” I croaked.  Marcus started shaking his head and making whimpering noises.

“Please hold.” I held my hand to the receiver and glared at my brother.  “This…
asshole
has no compunction at all.  If you don’t do exactly what he asks, he won’t hesitate plastering this thing all over the internet, and he has the skills to do it.”

Marcus started to object.

“Plus he said he’ll send it to Katie Couric.”

Marcus suddenly got that
Oh shiiit!
look on his face.

Mom watched Katie Couric on the news every night.  This kind of juicy sex scandal would be the freaking lead story on the evening news.  There would be an atomic bomb sized explosion in this house the instant Katie started to speak.

“Maybe mom would enjoy being interviewed by her favorite news anchor…but I wouldn’t bet on it.”

The color drained from his face, and his shoulders drooped in resignation. 
Yeah, ass-wipe, this is your only way out.

Solemnly ne nodded yes.

I let go of the receiver and spoke into the cell phone.

“When and where, Hanabal?”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Lila

I’d only seen my husband naked before.

We didn’t kiss until our third date.  We got into heavy petting only after a month of dating, chaste lunches and two-hour-a-night phone calls. We’d dated for almost exactly two months before Tom had finally started pulling my clothes off.  I had been completely naked on his bed, and he’d only unbuttoned his shirt.

I remember thinking how wonderful and gentle he was being.  He’d waited for our first time to be special—which was catnip to a WASP girl like me.  He’d cared.  And I’d watched him shed his clothes that first night together like I was watching a fireworks display, a Russian ballet perform Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake, or Michelangelo sculpt the David.

He was beautiful, from his achingly handsome face to his thickly muscled chest.  He had shoulders you just wanted to take a bite out of, and god had never made a more spectacular derriere.

Suffice it to say I was a virgin that first time, and he’d been so very gentle.  Later I’d heard horror stories of some girl’s first times…brutal, impatient boys that went in hard and left the girl with nothing but blood and pain to remember their first time with.

Tom had made love to me that night, and every time after that.  Slow, gentle, letting me get used to his body, and he never went too fast.

Of course now I had to rethink and analyze his motives for every single time we’d made love.  Had he been patient because he could, because he hadn’t felt much of an attraction for me?  We were only nineteen when we’d met.  I knew from my fellow wives and mothers through the years, that a teenage boy thought of nothing but sex, twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.  That they were so full of hormones that they walked around with perpetual erections.

Had that been the case with Tom?  Had he just thrown me the bones he didn’t have another boy to use them on?

Tom had been all I’d known…

So seeing Jake strip off his grease stained clothes, piece by piece, until he stood before he stark naked and semi-hard, was a surprise. 

Jake looked even taller nude.  His work hardened muscles made his body look long and sleek, and there wasn’t an inch too much muscle anywhere on him.  Every bit of muscle was there for a reason.  His body was elegant yet utterly essential to who he was.

His chest hair was dark brown, but turned nearly black as it spread down to his crotch…

And he wasn’t circumcised.

Tom had been circumcised at birth, and I’d just never really given an uncut penis a second thought.  I guess I should have, but I’d been planning, until the last several days had opened my eyes, to live out my life and die having only been with my loving, though distant, husband.

Jake abruptly realized how hard I was staring at his crotch, and self-consciously cupped his hands over his privates.  He even blushed.  It was adorable.

I stared at his handsome, rubicund face until he finally looked me in the eye again…and then I unbuttoned my blouse.  I never let his gaze go as I moved closer to him, reaching out my hand to touch his chest.  His breath caught, and he gasped.  I pressed my hand into his chest hair, and felt his heart beating oh so fast behind his ribs.  The thud and thump of his heartbeat made my own quicken. 

I knew that his heart didn’t beat for me…that was a romantic notion that should be ripped from every melodramatic, overly sentimental romance novel that had ever printed it on its pages.  But I knew without a doubt that it beat faster because of me, my hand on his chest, my eyes gazing into his.

It was such a powerful, heady feeling. 

I let my hand slide slowly down his peck, until I felt each and every rib with my curious fingertips.   He sucked in air and his spine straightened as my hand glided down over his hard, flat stomach.  Again, he didn’t have gym molded six-pack abdominals.  His body was just hard, and his stomach tightened. 

Stubbornly he held his hands over his groin.  I looked up into his face, and he stared off into the mirror over the sink.  I watched his stoic expression as I laid my hands over his, and slowly caressed those big, rough hands with mine.  I held his hands in mine, and slowly worked my fingers through until my hands were inside of his.  I reached farther into him and took his cock into my hands.

He hissed as his head flung back and his back arched.  He was gorgeous, raw and unfinished, and utterly at my control.  I reached deeper with one hand and grasped his low hanging balls, soft and full of promise.  He groaned as his breaths came faster and more desperately.

I cupped his testicles and caressed them in my palm.  With my other hand I stroked his slowly hardening cock, marveling at how it was growing in my grasp.  I looked down to see it fill out, engorging with the blood that thumped and beat through his body, keeping him alive.  And now it was making a part of him grow pleasurably to fulfill his needs as much as mine.

“The human body is such a wondrous thing,” I breathed against his mouth, our lips brushing against each other ever so lightly.

Jake leaned forward and captured my lips with his.  The world stopped, and everything inside me sang out for him, calling with desperate want and need.  His hands clutched at me, gripping my arms, sliding up and down them until finally I felt his thick, rough fingers worrying at my blouse’s buttons.

I pulled away from him and moved back until my ass hit the vanity that held the “His and Hers” sinks.

His hand was stretched out toward me, his expression bewildered.  He licked his lips and I watched a deep breath fill his lungs, making his chest heave enticingly.  He opened his mouth to say something, but I raised my hand to his lips to stop the words before they ever left his mouth. 

I held my fingers to his full, rough lips for a long few beats, and then I pulled my hand back.

He stood before me, no more modesty standing between him and me.

I started unhooking the remaining buttons on my blouse, but by the time I was near the bottom, I was desperate to be free of them.  I was desperate to be free of every last stitch of my clothes as well.  And I was desperate to press my aching-to-be naked flesh against his.

I’d wanted to remove my own clothing, to lay myself bare for once.  Before I’d always waited patiently for Tom to tug and pull my clothes off me.  And as time moved on, and those moments of bliss and longing came less and less frequently, I patiently waited for his need for me to return, to rekindle and catch fire again. 

It had been so fucking aggravating!  And I was through waiting for a man to take an interest, for a man to make the first move…and I would be damned if I needed to wait for a man to tell me when to take off my clothes, or to take my clothes off for me.

But I was about to rip my blouse right down the middle.  The buttons were not cooperating, and my hands were shaking with need and nerves.  Damn it all to hell, why hadn’t I worn a t-shirt?

Jake’s hands gently covered mine, an echo of what I’d done only moments before.

“At least let me help,” he whispered, his lips brushing the bangs of my hair.

I tried to slow my breathing and let my shoulders relax.  He slid his hands through mine and made quick work of the offending buttons—show off!  He stepped back and grinned.  I pulled the shirt open and shrugged it off one shoulder, and then off the other.  It fell to the floor and barely made a sound as it spread like water to puddle at my feet. 

Jake tentatively reached toward me again, and this time his hands moved to my waist, his fingers grasping and then snaking their way to the fastens.  I did some gasping and hissing of my own as his fingers glided down into the top of my jeans and pulled the buckle of my jeans open.  He took those pieces of denim in his strong hands and pulled them apart, making the jeans’ zipper open without being touched.