Same Time Next Week (Ch. 19)
Beneath the flirtation between Shelby and Jackson lies a deeper yearning for more than a fleeting encounter; both crave a bond that goes beyond the physical.
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Shelby mused while luscious leather hugged her hips and music poured from the speakers, enveloping the car in a sultry aura. There was never any question that she was going to go home with him.
She'd tried to pretend it wasn't happening...all the while shaving and pruning and sprucing, drinking juice and eating fruit and doing yoga for relaxation. Her skin was smooth and supple and lightly perfumed, on purpose. Her lingerie was thin and frilly and barely there, on purpose. Her mind was on the evening, her body preparing itself for pure enjoyment. On purpose. Everything she wore, all of her pre-date preparations were for the explicit purpose of him seeing her and being with her in the most intimate way possible.
Jackson slowed as he drove the two lane road through a neighborhood of upscale homes. The moon glowed in the sky above, bright and full, reflecting in the waters below. The lake itself was still except for a ripple or two that sped along the surface and then lapped at the shore. Toward the end of the block, Jackson slowed further and turned into a driveway, waited for the wide door to slide open and then drove into the garage. The light popped on as soon the door opened, revealing a slightly messy collection of tools, garden utensils and boxes stored above the garage space.
"So, we're here," Jackson said, opening his door and climbing out of the car. Shelby followed suit, meeting him at the door while he fumbled with his keys in the lock. "Oops," he said simply, tossing back a grin at her, then finally inserting the key and opening the door. An alarm beeped. His thick fingers deftly punched a code into a keypad on the wall.
With one arm he waved around the spacious kitchen as they walked through it. Shelby noticed that she and Jackson had the same style and color of cabinets. The similarities ended there–her floors were ceramic tile and wood; his were laminate. His appliances were a pristine white, hers were stainless steel. And while his house backed up to a dock that led to Lake Virginia, she had a small pool and hot tub in her backyard off of the deck.
Jackson walked under the arch of a door way into a darkened room. Seconds later the room was illuminated with the soft glow of two lamps. A sectional couch and two La-Z-Boy chairs pointed toward an enormous flat screen TV mounted on the wall above a stone fireplace. The room was cozy and laid back, very comfortable. Shelby already felt at home, dropping onto the couch and sitting back, way back against the plush cushions.
Jackson removed the button down shirt he'd worn over his t-shirt, then his shoes, then emptied his pockets onto a side table between the couch and a recliner: wallet, keys, phone, breath mints. He picked up one of several remotes lined up on the table and turned on the TV.
"Make yourself at home. Can I interest you in some wine? Or a beer, or some water, or whatever?"
"Red wine would be perfect right now.”
He smiled. "Be right back."
He ducked under the arch again, then reappeared holding two wine glasses and two forks. "In case you want to eat your dessert," he said, nodding toward the two white boxes sitting in the center of the table.
They drank their wine, sip after sweet sip and shared the chocolate torte, bite after sweet bite and talked while slow jams crooned in the background. Leisurely and relaxed, exactly as Shelby had requested. Things were calm but not cold, their conversation lending to ebbs and flows of flirtation and romantic gestures and downright scintillation.
"Mmmm..." Shelby purred, licking the last bit of chocolate off of her fork and tossing it into the box. "That was delicious. I'll have to remember The Dessert Lady."
"My pleasure. I mean that. Watching you eat that was amazing."
"What? Do I eat weird?"
"What? Do I eat weird?"
"Not at all. The way you lick your lips and the sounds you make. It's incredibly attractive."
"I think you might just be horny."
Jackson paused for a beat, blinked and said, "Always possible."
"I can probably help you with that,” Shelby teased.
Jackson slid over, wedging himself right up next to her. "Are you okay? Is this... am I moving too fast?"
"Hmmmmm..." She hummed, turning toward him, tucking one leg under the other. "No. You're fine."
"Well then, get comfortable, honey. You're not going anywhere for a while. Take your clothes off." He laughed, tapping her on the arm. "I mean... take your shoes off."
“No, you meant to say that.” Shelby laughed, slipping off the low heeled pumps and setting them next to the couch, stretching her toes. "Shoes are off. Clothes to follow."
"I think you should leave that to me."
"Done."
"I think you should let me kiss you. I bet you taste good. Like chocolate and wine."
"I bet I do."
"I think you should let me taste you. I bet you taste good, too."
"I bet I do."
"I think you should–"
Shelby grabbed his chin and pulled him to her. His lips landed on hers with a muffled mmmph, then a groan from deep in his throat as their tongues met in a hot, wet swirl. She whimpered and whined, the fire in her belly building again, streaks of white lightning rippling through her.
"Mmmm... you're very good at that," she whispered, sitting up a little so she could get closer.
"I try," he mumbled before capturing her lips once more. He reached for her, his hand gliding from her hip to her thigh and then hooking behind her knee, pulling her leg over his until she was straddling him. She could feel his arousal, strong and warm, pressing against her center. The intensity of the moment nearly brought tears to her eyes, causing her hands to tremble and making it difficult to catch her breath
"I wish I could tell you how good you feel, up against me. How much I want to grind into you. Bad, really bad, that's how much."
“You don't have to hold back with me. Let it go, if you want."
How kind of him to think she was afraid, or she was holding back and to try to comfort her. Neither assumption could be further from the truth.
"Without talking about the past," she mumbled into his mouth, onto his lips. God, his mouth. "I'm not wasting anything on a dry romp on the couch." She pulled back and grabbed his face, stared straight into his eyes. "I’m holding back because want you inside me when I come."
He gulped. And then grinned. "Aw, shit. It's about to be on. Let me know when you want that."
"I wanted it yesterday, so take your time. There's more of me that I want you to see before we get there."
Jackson laughed that sexy, dirty, throaty laugh. She loved it, especially when he was right up against her neck and he was licking her skin and his breath was hot and goose bumps were flying. His hands were restless, steadily moving from her back where the heat seared her skin through the sheer fabric, to the generous cheeks in tight jeans. They moved down over her hips and her thighs, down her legs to her feet tucked under her. She was a little ticklish, he found, making a game out of getting her to laugh while holding her mouth hostage.
Shelby was hot and getting hotter–not simply turned on but sweating. "Jackson... my shirt. Take it off, please." She lifted her arms so he could pull it off. He grinned, his bottom lip caught between his teeth and brought them back down.
"Unh uh. I don't want to do it like that. You asked for slow. We're going to take our time."
Shelby was starting to regret asking for that, but the regret faded as he ran his hands up her sides and over her chest, palming her breasts and squeezing them through the thin material. He groaned, his hips thrusting up under her a few times as he took his time exploring them, filling his hands with them. Her eyes slid closed, her arms hung limply, her head tilted back.
How have I gone so long without hands on my body and lips on my skin? I need more of this. A lot more. A lot more often.
One by one, the snaps on her blouse were pulled apart, exposing her skin, revealing her bra of wispy black lace. The shirt pulled open when the last button was undone and fell alongside her breasts. Hands were at her waist, holding her tight and then a long, wet streak licked between her breasts. She moaned and shuddered, feeling her nipples rise, straining against the lacy cup, then yelped as the pad of his thumb brushed lightly across each of them. A little nipple play and something to rub up against was a one-two punch.
She had to be careful, riding the line with caution. She wanted to enjoy herself but didn't want it to be over too soon. She wanted him, his hands on her, his lips on her, but more than anything, she wanted the hard mass of flesh and muscle pressed against her to be driving hard inside her. She wanted him to feel her, what he was doing to her, feel her clench around him.
Her thoughts were consumed with it. Had been…all day.
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This marks the end of free chapters except where I might want to offer up a tease. Subscriptions begin on the next chapter and are set as low as I can make them on Substack. If you don’t want to subscribe, I will bind this into an ebook and make it available for purchase once all chapters have been posted.