Same time next week, p.17
Same Time Next Week, page 17
muzicman: u ok?
muzicman: Shelby?
Shelby crossed her legs and squeezed, almost moaning out loud as her hips, ever so slowly, she hoped imperceptibly, pressed the seam of her jeans up against her clit. It throbbed in response, wanting her to rock hard and fast and put her out of her misery. She wished she could. But she couldn't. Knowing that turned her on even more.
shelbyj: So, I've never done this before.
shelbyj: Getting extremely hot and very bothered over here.
muzicman: what does that mean?
shelbyj: Means I think I'm gonna come.
The response from Jackson came lightning fast.
muzicman: no way.
shelbyj: Mmhhmm.
muzicman: Shelby, you're serious? You're not playing?
shelbyj: I swear, I'm so close. Fucking throbbing.
muzicman: tell me. What are you doing?
shelbyj: Slouched in this big ass chair in here. Kind of turned away from everyone.
shelbyj: In a corner. People in here but not around me. Can't be too obvious, but I feel so dirty. In a good way. : )
shelbyj: My nipples are so hard. So sensitive. Driving me insane. All I want is a tongue to run across them. Just once.
muzicman: i'd volunteer, but...
shelbyj: crossed my legs and squeezing my clit so hard. Feels good. Pressure feels good.
shelbyj: Working my hips but have to move slow. Tiny circles.
shelbyj: mmmmmm....
Shelby had to lean over a little, against the armrest of the chair, blinking to keep her eyes open, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from moaning out loud. Inside, her mind was screaming for release.
muzicman: u there?
muzicman: Shelby?
muzicman: did u?
shelbyj: Not yet.
shelbyj: But close
She slid further down in the seat, the seam of her jeans, once a tease, now applying very steady pressure. Her pulse throbbed there, sending a rushing feeling to her ears. It didn't take much movement of her hips to accelerate the pressure, sending waves up her body.
muzicman: pls don't stop.
shelbyj: Couldn't if I wanted to.
shelbyj: close.
shelbyj: Lightheaded. rubbing up against the seam of my jeans.
shelbyj: Feels so fucking good, baby.
shelbyj: Gonna come so hard. I can barely breathe.
shelbyj: omg I hope I don't scream
The phone buzzed with a message from him.
muzicman: ok..brb…gotta find a hiding place
Shelby grinned, slowing her movements.
shelbyj: Hurry. Catch up.
Communication lapsed for a minute or two. She sipped her latte, took a bite of her cake, pretended to read and look normal, like she wasn't teasing herself to what was going to be an incredible climax, waiting for the guy on the other end of the phone to hide and do the same. Perfectly normal. Totally hot.
muzicman: hiding in a different bathroom.
shelbyj: Sneaky fucker.
shelbyj: By the way, I don't want to hear about how hot it was the last time you did this. This is my first time. Don't ruin it.
muzicman: k.
shelbyj: What are you doing?
muzicman: what u think? Silly girl.
muzicman: can't type n do this. keep going.
shelbyj: Ha, one of the benefits of being a woman. Hands are free but I'm going to town.
shelbyj: Had to slow it down so you could catch up, but working my way up, again. My thighs are getting a workout.
shelbyj: Clit feels so good, though. I'm so wet, it's like a marble in oil.
shelbyj: Mmmm...I'm rocking my hips. Imagining us. In the backseat
shelbyj: riding that amazing dick.
shelbyj: Can almost feel you inside me. Getting closer. Feeling so good.
The phone buzzed but all she got was ‘................' Shelby giggled. He only had one free hand. Hopefully, that was code for ‘sounds good, keep going'.
shelbyj: So wet. It's warm.
shelbyj: Feeling a tingle.
shelbyj: stronger.
shelbyj: Shit.
shelbyj: Wishing I was with you.
shelbyj: Under you.
shelbyj: On top of you. Riding you.
shelbyj: Your breath on my skin.
shelbyj: Your chest pressed up against me, heart beating crazy fast.
shelbyj: Your voice in my ear, asking me to come for you.
shelbyj: Fuck, I'm close.
The phone buzzed. 'close,' was the only word that popped up. Her hips sped up at the thought of Jackson, tucked into a bathroom stall pulling and twisting and rubbing with one hand, trying to type with the thumb of the other, all because of her words appearing on the screen in front of him. She felt powerful. And sexy. Electric. On fire.
shelbyj: Gonna come.....
Shelby's fingers flew across the keyboard, her hips moving so fast in small, tight circles. She hoped to hell no one noticed, but even if they did, she didn't dare stop.
shelbyj: Close. So close.
shelbyj: omg. Oh my holy fuck, I'm gonna come right here.
Her breath caught in her throat as she pulsed, and felt an intense clench and then contracting, over and over and over. She gripped the arm of the chair so hard a fingernail snapped, slouched in the seat, hugging the phone to her chest, her hips still writhing and convulsing through the longest, most intense orgasm she had ever had.
shelbyj: omg ccoming
shelbyj: so fucking hard. still. shit!
An email message popped up for her, to her secret account. She opened it without thinking, the image enclosed making her almost want to scream. She settled for a tiny, quiet whimper, deep in her throat. Jackson had a death grip around himself, bulbous and red. Pooled around his head and his hand was the evidence that he was every bit as naughty and dirty and kinky and daring and turned on as she was.
‘Thank you,' was the message in the body of the email. ‘Delete this, right now.'
She hated to, but she deleted it and went back to the text function.
shelbyj: That kind of made me want you more. I am out of my mind.
shelbyj: Are you sure you can't leave? I want a good, hard fucking right now.
muzicman: what side of town u on?
shelbyj: International and Orange.
muzicman: hang on. will b a few minutes.
shelbyj: K.
Since he was occupied, Shelby tried to compose herself. She sat up straight, finished her latte-cold but it was wet and she needed something on her throat. Marked her spot in her book, popped the last bite of cake into her mouth and headed toward the door, legs wobbly as Jell-O, feeling so very naughty. She'd sat in that chair, the one over there in the corner, and totally did something she'd never dreamt of doing with Lucas. Jackson was bringing a lot of firsts to her life. Definitely a good addition to the new and improved Shelby. Something in her hoped there were a lot more new things she'd do with Jackson.
She slid behind the steering wheel, started the car and let the cool air circulate. She was sweating and so worked up, heart still beating madly in her chest, which didn't help.
Shelby banged her head against the headrest, grunting out her frustration. Her phone buzzed, interrupting her, alerting her to a message.
muzicman: getting out of here. go to my house.
muzicman: key under the cinder block on the right side, by the shed.
muzicman: meet u there. can't wait to see u.
‘K,' she typed back, casual and calm. That was nowhere near what she was feeling, as she peeled out of the driveway and got on the road, back to Winter Park, toward Lake Virginia, grinning the entire way.
Jackson
"I'm leaving," he'd said to Dave, Rod's manager. "I got some stuff I could be doing before tomorrow's shoot. This gig's a waste of my time."
"Fine, fine," Dave answered, his beady eyes bulging out of his head. He tossed back the last of whatever he was drinking and swiped another glass of wine from a passing server. “See you tomorrow. Bright and early,” he ordered, and went back to his conversation.
I wish I would have known it was that easy. Could already be with Shelby.
He felt a twitch and suppressed a groan at the thought of her. He'd already taken care of his problem, but it was growing back and he had no intention of wasting it on another hand job in a hotel bathroom. He wanted to be home. Needed to be with her. Not that the night wasn't already a raging success.
It was exciting going back and forth with her. No one had any idea that he was sending and receiving sexy missives, getting him all worked up so bad he had to go hide in a bathroom at the other end of the hall and jack off. There was something exciting about a clandestine interactive encounter. Shelby was something else.
He'd had enough of these people and this event. He was doing nothing, accomplishing nothing, didn't need to be there and could have a hot and bothered young woman under him in about an hour, so as he stepped out into the muggy evening, he didn't feel bad at all for ducking out on the guys.
A line of taxis sat outside the hotel, the cabbies all gathered around one car, talking and smoking, waiting for fares. Jackson caught the eye of one and nodded at him. "Windermere," he said. He had to pick up his car at Rod's place–they had all come together in the luxurious but unnecessary Rod Phillips Band Tour Bus.
The long ride to Rod's and then across Orlando to Winter Park gave Jackson some time to think. He was falling for her. She didn't want him to, but it was happening. He wasn't sure how to tell her, if he should tell her, or if he should keep it to himself. Maybe it would give her the confidence and security to open up. More than being curious, he felt like he was on the outside of her life, looking in. He wanted to be on the inside. He wanted her on the inside of his life, too.
It was like a game, when he was bored, to think of all the crazy things she could be keeping from him. It had something to do with her ex fiancé, he knew that. He had to wonder how a former bartender could afford the house she lived in and the car she drove. He didn't figure she was from money–at least she didn't act like she was from money. She didn't work, except for a few shifts a week at Antigua. She was going to school. Shopped every week, showing off some sexy new thing every time he saw her. She was having a good time, and didn't seem to be worried about what she was spending. Either she was nuts and tits deep in debt… or she was loaded.
His head reeled at the possibilities. Some of them were outrageous. Some of them could very well be true. He wished he could know for sure.
Lights were on at the house. Shelby's car was in the driveway. He twitched, straining against his slacks. That made it official. Every part of his body was looking forward to seeing her. He pulled into the garage and got out of the car, headed toward the interior door that led to the kitchen.
He hadn't even fully entered the house before a blur came into his vision and something-someone, rather, had climbed him. Was hanging off of him. Legs wrapped around him, arms around his neck, lips on his cheek, hair in his face. He felt the rumbling of her moans in her chest, the twitching in her body.
"Hey. Hi."
"Hi," she answered, her face shoved into his neck. "I can't believe how much I missed you."
"I missed you, too. You okay?"
"No."
"No?" She shook her head. "Wanna talk about it?"
"No," she answered. "Take me upstairs."
Sounded good to him. "Hang on for the ride."
He snapped the lights off in the kitchen and the hall and climbed the steps, cupping her against him the entire way up the stairs, down the hall to his bedroom. A single lamp was on, the TV was on but muted, the bedspread showed evidence that she'd been laying there until he got home.
"This is kind of nice," he said, dropping her gently onto the bed, beginning to unbutton his crisp white dress shirt. "I like that you were here when I got here."
Shelby lay on the bed where he dropped her, watching him undress. Her eyelids were heavy, but her eyes were open and didn't miss a thing. He finished undressing, peeling off the soiled briefs and tossing them toward a basket in the closet. Shelby was undressed, wearing one of his shirts and a plain cotton pair of panties. Oddly he found them as sexy as her lace or mesh ones, especially when she wasn't wearing anything else.
Things didn't feel as urgent as he thought they would. Maybe because they'd already had a climax earlier so they could take their time with each other, but he didn't feel rushed. He was even home pretty early so they'd have lots of time to take it slow and do it right.
Jackson reached up toward the top of the bed and folded back the light bedspread and sheets. Shelby got up and climbed inside them while he rescued the remote from the certain death of being kicked under the bed. He navigated to a music station and turned off the display, letting the audio play through the speakers. Soft music drifted around them, circling them, enveloping them in a mood. He slid in between the sheets, toward the warm figure in the middle of the bed waiting for him.
Shelby's voice was soft in his ear. "I want to lay here with you for a little bit. I don't want to rush it, you know?"
"Sure," he said rolling toward the edge of the bed, leaning out of it toward the drawer, retrieving the small, square package, ripping it open and rolling on the thin latex material in the dark. "Whenever you're ready," he said, moving back toward her.
Her head found his chest and he felt her relax against him, a deep sigh coming from her body. He dug his fingers into her hair and kissed the crown of her head. He had no idea what was going on in that brain of hers, but he would give her some time. Be close to her. Feel her heart beat on top of his and her body close to his. And even if they feel asleep and didn't do anything, he was so much happier than he would have been without her.
Chapter 21
Shelby
She wanted him. Her body pulsed, she wanted him so bad, but it was too much. It was him. Him. It was… overwhelming. Too much. Too much.
She laid her head on his shoulder, pressed against him, breast to chest, felt his heart beat and listened to the music and his breathing. Trying to stop thinking that she was lying to herself.
She knew what was wrong. She didn’t want to know what was wrong. She’d prefer to blame it on hormones or the moon or something, but that wasn’t it.
Dammit! In no way did she intend to get attached to him, this musician who, as she was reminded by her mother, probably made a terrible boyfriend. For all she knew, he thrived in a setup like this, where he didn’t have to commit to her and she didn’t have to commit to him and they could hook up once a week and work their frustrations out. Eat some good food, drink some good wine, have some good sex. The next morning he was gone and she was gone and life moved on until the next Thursday, when it was a new restaurant and a new bar and a new lingerie set and a new position. It was a great arrangement. A perfect setup.
Why could she not enjoy it? Why did she suddenly need more?
It was starting to feel like… what was that feeling? Not hollow. Not enough. Shelby found herself craving him uncontrollably sometimes, needing him. She'd held the phone in her hands sometimes for hours on end, willing herself to call him, but in the end she wouldn’t. She had no right to count on him, to make demands of him and his time. He wasn’t her boyfriend. She wasn’t his girlfriend. No commitments, right? He was a friend when it came to movies and music and food, hanging out and having fun. He wasn’t someone she should get close to and share her secrets with.
Against her better judgment, she wanted to. If she could find the words to say it, she’d spill every word, confess her little ass off. Tell him… tell him all about how she used men for money, let them take care of her, let them spoil her. All she had to do was give up a little bit of sex, a blow job here and there, hang on his arm at parties. And of course, be his private toy. In exchange, he took care of her. Gave her everything she ever even thought she needed or wanted or had to have. Or paid her rent. It was an arrangement.
They weren’t supposed to fall in love with her. She wasn’t supposed to love them back.
Shelby saw it coming with Lucas, thinking that deeper feelings from him would be to her advantage. Much too late, she realized there was no advantage at all to bilking this man out of money and time and affection. She wasn’t sure how far she would let things go with Jackson before she cut it off. Her feelings for him—unexpected and passionate and suddenly so deep— confused her, clouded her judgment. She liked him. She was getting comfortable.
And that scared her. She refused to use him like she used Lucas.
Breathing slowly and deeply, lying in his arms, Shelby felt his hand rubbing her back, being so patient with her. She let her hand roam, wandering smooth skin, tight muscles, and his tempting, pulsing, hot-to-the-touch erection. His head turned toward her, his lips at her forehead. He kissed her, so sweet. So soft. Her heart was sighing, tears were welling up, so much pent up emotion spilling over. Lucas. Jackson. The last few years. The last few months… all of it swirled around in her head. Everything was all mixed up.
Shelby rolled to her back, pulling him with her, on top of her. He made all the usual moves, the ones that made her writhe and squeal, the ones that tickled and made her laugh and beg him to stop… then never stop. But she didn’t feel much like playing insatiable sex kitten tonight.
“Slow. Do it slow,” she whispered to him, her eyes gleaming with the shine of tears. He paused, confused probably, but slowed down, making his moves more sensual and meaningful, deep breaths and long, low moans.
When he finally slid inside her, she couldn't hold the tears back. She clung to him, held him to her while her hips worked beneath him. She cried and moaned and grunted and almost screamed as her climax shook her.
Jackson came soon after, moaning her name over and over, in her ear, against her skin. Asking if she was okay, could he help her, could he do anything for her? He was such a sweet man.
Just like Lucas. She was going to end up hurting him, just like she hurt Lucas.
Whores weren’t supposed to fall in love.
