Naturally Naughty (7 page)

He was glorious—a woman’s erotic dream, with the kind of long, lean body she’d fantasized about earlier that afternoon.

“Can I tell you something?” she asked in a hazy whisper.

“Anything,” he replied, pulling her blouse free of her skirt. He began to slip the buttons open, one by one, his fingers creating intense friction as they brushed against her bare belly and midriff. She shivered, lost her train of thought and strained toward his hands. Her breasts felt heavy and full and if he didn’t touch them soon, she’d go crazy.

“Tell me, Kate,” he said, finishing the unbuttoning and leaving her blouse hanging from her shoulders. He glanced down at her, his eyes darkening with desire.

Kate had never felt such a fierce sense of satisfaction about her own body. She did now, though. She liked herself
because of the appreciation in his eyes as he studied her. Her skirt was pulled all the way up to her hips, exposing her thigh-high stockings and her tiny white silk panties. And the curves of her breasts, barely contained in the skimpy lacy bra.

But he still didn’t touch them. Didn’t caress them as she wanted him to. She whimpered and leaned into his hands. Offering herself. Hissing as her nipples brushed his index finger.

He moved his palms to cup her around the ribs. With his thumbs, he lightly touched her nipples, easily visible behind the lace of her bra. Then he moved them again, a tiny flick, a taunting caress. Knowing why he waited, she admitted, “I wanted you so much earlier today, I had to…to…”

“Yes?” Another flick, too gentle. She wanted more, wanted him to push the fabric away and take her nipples between his lips and suck deeply. Her breasts were ultra-sensitive; it wouldn’t take much more than that for her to come.

“Tell me,” he ordered.

“I had to touch myself,” she admitted.

He rewarded her with a longer stroke, sliding two fingers into her bra and taking her nipple between them. Then he stopped again. “Where?”

“In my old bed.”

He chuckled lazily and resumed the all too brief flicks of thumb against nipple, accompanying the touches with tantalizing love bites to her neck. “I meant where on your body?”

She groaned in frustration. “Where do you think?”

“Here?” he asked, covering her breasts with both hands, cupping their fullness.

“Oh, finally!”

“So you did touch your breasts?”

She shook her head, desperate for more. “No, but that’s exactly where I want
you
to touch.”

“You’ve got me curious, Kate.” He kissed his way down her neck, pushing her back farther on the table until she was nearly reclining. Then he moved his lips down. Over the curve of her breast. Scraping his teeth along the lace, slipping his tongue beneath it to lick her nipple.

She jerked hard, her hot core grinding against him. “Curious? You’ve got me ready to sing the Hallelujah Chorus!”

“Hey, no singing,” he scolded, lifting his mouth from her.

“I promise,” she said between harsh pants. “No singing. But please, don’t stop touching me or I’ll scream.”

“I want you to scream,” he murmured, staring down into her face, his eyes lit with passion. “I want us both to scream because it feels so good there’s no other way to express it.”

Finally he deftly undid her bra, tugging it away and catching her fullness in his hands.

“Have I told you yet that I’m a visual man?” he asked as he moved lower to kiss her. “I love looking at these.” Then he lifted her nipple to his lips and flicked his tongue over it with exquisite precision. “And feeling them.”

“Thank heaven.” She clutched his hair in her hands and pulled him closer, silently ordering him to stop fooling around and to get to some serious action. He complied, sucking her nipple deeply into his mouth as he caught the other between his fingers.

She had her second orgasm of the day a minute later. It made the first one in her old bedroom pale in comparison.

“I see we’re well matched. You’re very sensitive here, aren’t you?” he asked, continuing his sensual assault on her chest. The pleasure began to build again, before she’d come down from her orgasmic high. “But we still haven’t found
the spot you touched yet, have we?” He reached around to unzip her skirt.

Okay. This was good. Her nipples still tingled, but now other parts—lower parts—were ready for some action. She almost purred as he followed the path of skin exposed by the zipper, trailing his fingers down her tailbone until he slipped a hand under her panties to cup her bottom.

“Are you going to show me, Kate, where you touched?”

She nodded wordlessly, wondering how he’d stolen all thought, all will. He eased the skirt down, waiting for her to lift up so he could pull it all the way off and toss it to the floor. Then he stepped back and merely looked at her, clad only in panties, thigh-highs and strappy sandals. He looked his fill. “I’m suddenly starting to hear strains of the Hallelujah Chorus myself. I think I’ve died and gone to heaven.”

Kate twisted and shifted restlessly, loving the way he ate her up with his eyes. Then she reached for the belt of his trousers. “Well, angel, you’re not going to get your wings, until you ring my bell.”

Chuckling, he pushed her hands away, undid his trousers and pushed them down. Kate bit her lip, watching through a curtain of her own hair as he pushed off his boxer briefs. When she saw his thick, erect penis spring free of them, she moaned out loud.

Vibrating fingertips just can’t compare.

She found her voice. “My purse. In my purse…”

He understood what she meant. He grabbed it, handing it to her while he shucked off the remainder of his clothes. Kate dug inside, grabbing one of the small foil packets in the bottom of the bag. She saw his curious expression. “Freebies from my shop. Some stores give away matchbooks. We give away condoms.”

He looked as though he wanted to question her, but she
wouldn’t have that. Ripping open the condom with her teeth, she reached for his penis to put it on, but had to pause, to feel the pulsing heat in her hands, to test the moisture at its tip with her fingers.
It’s definitely been too long.

But what a yummy way to get back in the saddle.

“Let me,” he insisted, his voice thick and nearly out of control with need.

She did, turning her attention to her now-in-the-way panties. Pushing them off, she watched as he groaned at the sight of her. Glistening. Open and ready.

“Kate?”

“Yes?”

“Remember the discussion we had about the senses?”

Remember? She could barely remember her own name.

“I don’t think I told you…I’m a visual man. But taste really is my favorite.”

She only understood what he meant when he bent down and licked at her glistening curls.

Welcome her third orgasm of the day.

Before she’d even recovered from it, he stood, took her by the thighs and pulled her to the edge of the table. “Now?”

“Now,” she cried, still heaving from the feel of his tongue inside her. “And, Jack? Don’t even think about being gentle.”

She had one moment to suck in a deep breath before he plunged into her. No hesitation. No sweet, thoughtful insertion.

Thank heaven.

He was giving her exactly what she wanted. She was being well and truly…

“Faster?” he asked when she jerked her hips harder and tugged him down for another wet kiss.

She couldn’t talk, just nodded, delighting in the fullness,
in the thick, hard feel of him driving ever deeper into her body. And when he finally dropped his head back and groaned with the pleasure of his own fulfillment, she greeted orgasm number four.

Definitely a personal record.

I
F THERE HAD EVER BEEN
a time in Jack’s life when he needed a bed, this was it. He wanted nothing more than to pull her body tightly against his, curl around her and languorously come back to earth after their pounding, exciting interlude. Instead he kept his hands on either side of her, holding himself above her, still connected below the waist. “You okay?”

Below him, Kate lay panting, with her eyes closed and her skin still flushed with pleasure. A sultry smile curved her lips, and he watched her pink tongue dart out to moisten them as she nodded. Though he couldn’t imagine possibly having anything left in his body after exploding into hers a few minutes before, he felt a definite stirring of interest. God, she was glorious.

“Is that a gun in your condom or are you just happy to see me?”

She opened one eye and glanced down at their joined bodies.

He chuckled, again delighted by her wicked wit. “I can’t seem to get enough of you. But, oh, I could use a bed. Or even a comfortable chair.”

“Chaise longue,” she said, a purr in her voice. “No sides.”

Her suggestion definitely brought to mind some enticing images. Her, on top of him, straddling him and taking as
much pleasure as she wanted. He held on to the mental picture, determined to one day make it a reality.

She wriggled beneath him, tightening herself deep inside and wringing a moan from him. “As flattering as this is, I don’t think those things are reusable,” she said, biting the corner of her kiss-swollen lip, trying unsuccessfully to hide a grin.

He gently pulled out of her. What he really wanted to do was grab another condom and go right back in. Make love to her slowly. Erotically. For hours. But this wasn’t the time, place or soft flat surface for slow, sultry sex.
Chicago
.

“Any suggestions on where to, uh, dispose of the evidence?”

“I hadn’t thought of that,” she said with a giggle.

He chuckled, too. “It’s been a long time since my teenage years in the back seats of cars, when this was a real issue.”

“Teenage? Tsk, tsk. Don’t tell me you were a bad boy.”

“Actually, I was the golden boy,” he replied, making no effort to hide his own disgust. “Which is why whenever I dated a girl, we’d have to go out of town if we didn’t want a full report on our activities phoned in to our parents before our 1:00 a.m. curfew.” Not wanting to get into a conversation about his family, he looked around backstage. “Now, I really should…”

“There.” She nodded toward the workman’s ladder standing in front of the partially drawn curtain. Jack followed her stare, seeing the big trash can standing nearby. Tugging his pants up to his hips, he said, “I’ll be right back.” He gave her a quick kiss on the lips before he walked away.

By the time he returned, after burying the used condom amid the remains of plastic, paint-speckled drop cloths and food wrappers, she was sitting up on the table, buttoning her blouse.

“So, wanna go see a movie sometime? I’m sure we could find something to do while we hide in the bathroom to sneak into the second show,” he said with a grin.

She laughed again, not appearing at all nervous, having no second thoughts or regrets. He liked that, since he felt exactly the same way. Tonight was only the beginning. And he didn’t regret one damn minute of it.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to go into a theater again without thinking of this,” she admitted, looking up from her buttoning to fix her brown-eyed stare on him. “I think we definitely made a memory tonight.”

“Do you like making memories?”

She nodded. “I guess that’s what my impromptu rock concert was all about. Throughout my childhood I’d wanted to get up on this stage. I always hoped somebody would buy it, forget about showing movies here and get down to business putting on some great plays in which I could be the star.”

“Hopefully not musicals.”

She responded with a light punch on his upper arm.

“I’m kidding,” he said. “So, did that have something to do with why you decided to, uh, go for it with me? Not just a memory—but living out some childhood fantasy?”

“I don’t know what kind of childhood you had, but I did not spend my third-grade year wanting to be stark naked, having the hottest sex of my life, on the stage of the Rialto.”

He raised a brow. “Hottest of your life, huh?”

She looked away to reach for her skirt. “Well, hottest in the past year at least.”

He crossed his arms. “Admit it. You haven’t had sex in the past year. Have you.”

Her face flushed. “How could you possibly know?”

“Let’s call it a lucky guess.”

“Well, what about you?” she asked as she hopped down
from the table and slid her feet into her shoes. “Can I hazard a guess and say it’s been a while for you, too?”

“I guess it
was
over pretty fast.”

She laughed, low and sultry. “It was perfect. Exactly the way I needed it. One to blow off steam…”

“And the next one?”

She paused. Then, lowering her voice, she said, “I wish there could be a next one.”

Her honesty did not surprise him. No coyness, no shyness, no flirtation, just fabulous, forthright, honest Kate. No question, she was the most intoxicating woman he’d met in years.

She bent to hook her sandals, her hair brushing Jack’s naked stomach. He heaved in a breath.

“Unfortunately,” she continued, apparently not noticing his sudden inability to think a coherent thought, “there can’t.”

That woke him up and he bent to look at her. “Why can’t there?”

She straightened immediately, almost cracking the top of her head into his chin. “You want there to be?”

Seeing the look of uncertainty in her rich brown eyes, Jack immediately took her into his arms. “Yeah. I definitely want there to be. And you’re right, I haven’t been involved with anyone for several months. I guess you and I met each other at precisely the right moment for volcanic sexual eruption.”

She raised a brow. “Lucky us.”

“By the way, the movie idea, and my dinner invitation, were very real. I want to see you again, beyond more of…
this
.”

She hesitated, leading him to wonder if she really was out for sex and nothing else. For some reason that thought didn’t hold as much appeal as it usually would for Jack. Sex
and no strings had seemed fine for him up until a few months ago.

Hell, up until today. When he’d met her eyes across a nearly deserted street.

“We’d better go,” she said softly. “The workman who left this stuff might remember he forgot to lock up and come back.”

Sensing her desire to change the subject, Jack let it go. The subject of what they each were looking for in a relationship could be left for another time. Kate was unlike other women he’d known. She obviously knew what she wanted and wasn’t afraid—nor apologetic—about going after it. Her cool exterior and calm demeanor hid a passionate woman with a naughty streak.

“Hope he didn’t come back a while ago and quietly watch.”

A decidedly wicked grin curved the corners of her lips up. “Well, what’s a stage for, if there’s no audience?”

Yes, a
definite
naughty streak. He could hardly wait to get to know her better.

After they dressed, they left the theater and stood outside, next to her SUV. Jack hated to see her leave, though he knew he’d see her soon. “So you’ll get home sometime tomorrow?”

She nodded. “And you fly home late tonight.”

He wished he didn’t have to go back to his mother’s house to pack. The simple solution to his regret at parting from this amazing woman was to drive back to Chicago with her. But he didn’t suggest it. He sensed Kate wanted some time alone to sort things out. He didn’t need any alone time. He had not one single doubt about what had happened. He was fully prepared to ride out this incredible wave to see what might happen next.

“I’ll call you the day after tomorrow,” he assured her.

“We’ll see.” She turned away, looking down the silent, shadowed street. “You don’t have to, you know. You didn’t do anything I didn’t want you to. So there should be no guilt.”

“I’m not feeling guilty.” He brushed a strand of hair off her brow, wishing the streetlights around here worked so she could see the sincerity in his eyes. “I’m missing you already.”

She shrugged, appearing unconvinced. Leaning forward, he pressed his lips to hers. Her hands snaked around his neck, and she deepened the kiss, as if making one of her memories—this time, the feel of him in her arms. He made one, too.

“I
will
call. So can you give me your number and save me from having to dig through my neighbor’s recycling bins, trying to find a month-old newspaper with your name and store address?”

She chuckled. Reaching into her purse, she pulled out a small pink card and handed it to him. He palmed it. “Thanks.”

She got into her car, then lowered the window. “I had a great time tonight, Jack. Thanks to you, from now on when I think of Pleasantville, I’ll have much more pleasant memories.”

He leaned in to kiss her one more time. “I’ll see you in two days. I promise.” He watched as she drove away.

Still holding the business card in his hand, he headed back to his mother’s house. He hadn’t even closed the door behind him when she waylaid him in the foyer. “Where have you been? And who were you kissing? Elmira Finley called this afternoon and said you and some stranger made a spectacle of yourselves outside the Tea Room!” She paused only long enough to take a long sip of her drink. Her favorite
cocktail—a glass of vodka with a thimbleful of orange juice to turn the thing a murky peach color.

He walked past her. “I wouldn’t call it a spectacle.”

“How could you? And who was she? Nobody recognized her.”

His sister Angela entered from the living room and gave him an amused look. “So, the golden boy gets a turn as black sheep.”

“Who, J.J.?” his mother stressed, ignoring Angela.

Jack glanced at the business card, which he’d tucked into his pocket. Jones. Katherine Jones. Of course. Her thick, long, dark hair and name had made him think of Catherine Zeta-Jones when he saw the picture in the paper. “Her name’s Kate Jones.”

The glass slid from his mother’s fingers and crashed to the tile floor, shattering into several sharp pieces.

“Mother?”

She shook her head, saying nothing. Angela, however, didn’t remain silent. “You’ve got to be kidding. Kate Jones is back here? I can’t believe she’d show her face in town now.”

He narrowed his eyes and stared at his sister.

“You know who she is, Jack. For heaven’s sake, she’s one of those trashy Tremaine women.”

Jack clenched his teeth. “I don’t care what her connection is to this town. She doesn’t live here now, and neither do I.”

“You can’t mean to see her again,” his mother said, sounding on the verge of tears. “Edie, her mother…”

He instantly understood. Kate was Edie’s daughter. He’d forgotten all about the fact that Edie had moved home to Pleasantville as a widow with a little girl so many years ago. He’d been only a kid of eleven or twelve himself.

His instant connection to Kate sure made sense. Edie was
one of the nicest people he’d ever known. “Mother, it’s fine. Kate’s wonderful, honest and open, like Edie. You’d like her.”

Angela stepped over the broken glass until she stood next to him. “Honest? Open? Get real. How can you call the woman who’d been banging our father for twenty years honest and open?”

He narrowed his eyes. “You’re on dangerous ground, Ang.”

“Come on, Jack, the whole town knows it,” Angela said. “Including Mom, who, if I’m not mistaken, was happy about it. Free maid service because Edie felt so guilty, plus you got to avoid any icky sex with Dad. Isn’t that what you said, Mom?”

Jack looked at his mother, waiting for her to deny it. He expected her to faint, cry or yell. She did none of these. In fact, there was only one way to describe her expression.

Guilty as sin.

“S
O, HE STILL
hasn’t called?”

Kate looked up from her office computer screen and frowned at Armand. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

He waved an airy hand. “Remember who you’re talking to.”

Kate smirked. “Your sexual preference is showing.” Armand hated to be thought of as flaming, though he occasionally was.

“I don’t really care, because for the first time in forever, we’re talking about your sex life, not mine!”

“No, we’re
not
talking about it.” She walked past him onto the sales floor. The overhead lights were on, though they wouldn’t open for an hour. Pretending she needed to check the bondage section, she busied herself counting
leather masks and handcuffs. Big sellers, particularly around the holidays.

“Kate, stop pretending you don’t care this guy didn’t call. You’ve been moping for ten days, ever since you got home from Tortureville. Track the bastard down and confront him about it.”

“I can’t. The last words I said to him were there’s no guilt, no regret, and he didn’t have to call.”

Armand rolled his eyes in disgust. “Well, of course, but you didn’t
mean
it. Darling, all men—including the heterosexual ones—know that speech is complete bullshit.”

She ignored him. “Besides, I don’t know his last name.”

“Stranger sex. I still can’t believe you went for it.”

She wished she’d never told him. But Armand was a sexual bloodhound. He could smell naughty secrets, even days later.

“So, you see, I can’t track him down, even if I wanted to.”

Which she didn’t. Jack’s silence in the past ten days spoke volumes. He knew where to find her and he hadn’t looked. She’d cared at first. Too much. Then she’d reminded herself she knew what she was getting into. She could have walked away at any time, but she wanted great sex, with him, then and there. And she got it. So she couldn’t now hate him for not following up on his promise to see her when he got back to Chicago.

“Please, Armand, let it drop,” she said, rubbing a weary hand over her brow. “It was great, now it’s done. I’m over it.”