“What the fuck is your problem?” Jane roared.
“You, Jane. It’s always been you. From grade school to now. Did it ever occur to you that my choice of careers might have nothing to do with screwing up your life?” John yelled back over the music.
“I had that radio gig until you pulled the plug.”
“That wasn’t my call. I don’t own the station and I don’t make all the decisions.”
“Oh, right. Just like you have no say in the Talent Programming?”
Someone bumped her from behind, shoving her into John. His cup-bearing hand smashed between them, soaking the front of her white summer dress. “Lovely. You’ll owe me for dry-cleaning, too.”
Looking down at her ruined dress, she tried to ignore the warm thrill of his knuckles pressed to her breast. Unfortunately, it had been the first feel-up in months and her body wasn’t inclined to forget.
Reunions sucked when you weren’t married or employed. She never should have come. It wasn’t like she needed to reacquaint herself with anyone from the embarrassing years at Cresswell High. People moved on, changed, and yet coming back for a reunion always seemed to make people revert to immaturity. Myself included, she thought, rolling her eyes.
Jane looked up at John. “I’m sorry. I’ve moved on since high school, really.” Just because he was an ass when she knew him, didn’t mean he still was. The radio station gig was important and burning bridges wouldn’t suit her purposes.
When John didn’t answer, she leaned in to repeat herself, but he was staring below the neck. Typical male. Always checking out a woman’s rack.
“My eyes are up here,” she said.
“What kind of material is that?” he asked.
“Huh? What, my dress? It’s silk. Gonna be a hefty bill.”
“It’s worth it.” A slow grin tipped his lips.
What was he talking about? Something about the way he smiled at her flipped her stomach. It always had and frankly, she found it annoying that it still did. But then what wasn’t to like? Over six feet of firmly muscled masculinity stood within inches of her. His heated chocolate gaze seemed all-knowing and seductive. With wavy brown hair a shade lighter slipping over his forehead, Jane decided he was the sexiest man she’d ever met. The years had been so good to him.
Was this really the same guy she’d sneaked into swim practices to see? He’d been built as a teen, but as a man— Whoa doggies! And if he kept looking at her like she was his Lick-on-a-Stick, she’d have to run back to the hotel for a change of undies.
“Did you know that punch-soaked, white silk turns transparent?”
She glanced down again. At her angle, she couldn’t see what he was talking about. “Nice try but no dice. Can we stay on subject here? I need that gig.” And I really need to not think about you making a pass at me, or I’ll embarrass myself further by climbing up that six foot frame and dry humping you on the middle of this dance floor. Holy hell, what an image to give herself. Where were those panties again?
“Come on,” he said, grabbing her elbow and steering her out of the ballroom.
“Where are you taking me?”
“Upstairs to get changed before someone else sees you and thinks you’re providing a service.”
“My hotel room is in a different hotel, genius. And if my dress is truly transparent—”
John swung her around to face the mirrored walls.
Her jaw dropped. Her white silk, stained pale pink across her breasts, had indeed gone transparent. Both tightly budded nipples showed darkly through her dress, crowning her full, high breasts. She was proud of the girls. It’s why she didn’t always wear a bra. Even in her thirties they looked great. That didn’t mean she had intended to show them to the entire class, or John in particular.
“You’ve got great tits,” he said grimly. “I always figured you did. Nice to know I’m right about some things.”
Her eyes lifted to see his in the mirror checking her out. He didn’t bother to look away.
“Thanks,” she muttered, folding her arms over her chest. “Now that I have your undivided attention—”
“Nope. Still pretty divided.”
She whirled around to face him. “Listen buddy, I’m glad you’re being all gallant by trying to get me covered up, but if you drag me through the lobby, across town to my hotel, and up an elevator, a heck of a lot more people will be seeing what you thought I should cover.”
“I take it back. Don’t cover them up. Let me look at them some more.”
She huffed as she shoved hard against his chest. “Did you forget to grow up? I swear you are a bigger horn-dog than your old reputation suggests.”
“What?” John looked baffled.
“You and the cheerleading squad. You and the debate team. You and the student council.”
“All right. Upstairs with me now. If we are going to have this discussion, I want my wits about me, and that means you need a change of clothes.”
“Hotel. Across. Town, you Neanderthal. Or weren’t my breasts speaking loud enough last time?”
“Your sexy as hell when your pissed, Jane. Did you know that?”
John began unbuttoning his dress shirt. Her eyes widened. “What are you doing? We’re outside the ballroom!”
He grinned and continued to undress. John dragged his shirt from his waistband and shrugged the fabric off his thickly muscled shoulders. Jane’s breath caught. No wonder he was so hard when she fell against him. This guy had outdone himself in the musculature development department. Each curve and shallow was well-defined and sprinkled with dark curling hair.
He stepped toward her. Jane retreated until the cold surface of the mirror hit her back. John’s grin widened, flashing a dimple in one cheek. There was something about seeing a starched white dress shirt sliding off a body like his that made her think of naked bodies on bed sheets.
Jane licked her lips. Oh this is wrong. Wrong on so many levels. And damn if she didn’t want it.
Inches from her now, Jane reached out and touched him. Her hands skimmed his chest, rubbed over his ribs, traveled the line of hair to his belt, and back up again to the flat brown nipples she couldn’t help but pluck.
John froze. “Uh, Jane? What are you doing?”
“Going with the flow?”
He exhaled sharply when she stepped against him, pressing their bodies flush.
“I was just going to offer you my shirt until I could find you some clothes in my room,” he commented gruffly.
Like ice water through her veins, dread filled her. There was no regaining composure after that move.
Jane snatched the shirt and put it on. “Come on. Let’s go. The sooner we find an alternative the sooner I can return to the party. I’d hate to miss much more of it.”
“Uh huh.”
She folded the shirt over her chest like a robe and kept her head down for the trip up the elevator. She didn’t need to see his smug grin to know she had humiliated herself.
Honoring her unspoken plea, John kept his silence. He slipped the electric keycard in the lock and stepped aside to let her in. It was the same as he dug through his suitcase to find a pair of running shorts and an old t-shirt with their school mascot on it. Instead of tossing them to her, he looked at them, tossed them from one hand to the other thoughtfully.
“Well?” she asked.
“I was just thinking that I’d rather see you out of your clothes completely than redressed.”
So would she, especially if the king-sized bed could be put to use.
“And it occurred to me,” he continued, “you might be of the same opinion given your, uh, hands-on approach downstairs. What do you say? I’ll show you mine if you show me yours?”
Jane snorted. From anyone else it would have sounded like a seedy come on. From John it sounded cute. Why was that? Maybe the funky smile and the twinkling eyes had something to do with the delivery.
“Did that work for your other conquests, John?” Good, yes, remind yourself of the reasons why not to get involved with sex-god-exhibit-A.
“There haven’t been as many as you’d like to make it.” He dropped the clothes on the bed and walked to her. “Kind of hard to get your groove on with another woman when you’re stuck on one from your past.”
She tried to laugh off his sincerity, but his look was so tender, vulnerable, that it would have felt mean. John had dropped the snarking, teasing veneer for something more real. Jane just wasn’t sure she could cope with the emotions he stirred up. He’d never noticed her in school, why should a little spilled punch change all that?
“I always had a thing for you, Jane.”
“Sure,” she said nervously, half-swallowing the word.
“I did. I missed a pass in the Homecoming game senior year because you were there talking to Barry Whiteside for the school paper. I was jealous, and he knew I had the hots for you. I thought he’d make a play. Then when you had all that headgear for your braces, I thought you were pretty adorable trying to sip out of your milk carton.”
“Metal is always a turn on,” she said breathlessly. He was too close for her to think clearly and the way his lips moved over every word made for an erotic tease.
“Remember the kissing booth? They put blindfolds on all the ticket holders and led you into the kissing tent? You didn’t think frenching was part of the ticket price, did you?” he argued.
Jane gasped. The memory still curled her toes. “That was you? You copped a feel!”
“I’m a guy, of course I copped a feel. Besides, you gave most of us guys the cold shoulder every day. I didn’t think you’d come anywhere near the kissing booth since you were so shy. I had to take advantage of the opportunity.” He shrugged and cupped her shoulders in his huge, warm hands. “Come on Jane. You never gave me a chance.”
“Didn’t think I had one,” she confessed.
“So we might have a chance?” he asked.
“You really want one?” Dared she hope? Her heart pounded heavily. She’d been in love with him, okay love-hate with him, for as long as she could remember. From the way he told it, he had too.
“Yeah, I do.”
John leaned down to kiss her tenderly. Jane’s arms circled his neck as she opened for him. She heard the soft rasp of her zipper. His hands slid inside to stroke over her bare back.
“If a chance constitutes a quick lay, I’m not interested,” she said. Jane rose up to meet his mouth. Her tongue tangled with his.
“Nothing quick about what I want to do to you or the number or times.” He maneuvered the shoulder straps around her arms. It slid to the floor in a puddle.
“I’m serious, John. I don’t do one-nighters.” Jane yanked on his belt buckle then unbuttoned his slacks and eased down his zipper. Impatient with the underwear situation, she shoved her hand inside to stroke over his thick erection.
John moaned. “Neither do I. If this happens, it’s gonna be the beginning of a long-term relationship.” He shoved her against the closed door while she awkwardly shimmied out of her panties and kicked off her shoes. John made quick work of his shoes and boxers also, allowing her full access for her inquisitive hands.
“That’s what guys always say when they want to start off with sex,” she panted around the words. John had already abandoned her lips to hungrily suck at her nipples. Jane cried out when he took a hard pull on her. An answering tingle zeroed between her legs.
Jane curled her leg around his hip. The idea of climbing up his body didn’t sound so far-fetched now. Then John sank to his knees. Jane clutched wildly at him, not wanting him to stop what he was doing, but quickly changed her mind as he moved her lifted leg to drape over his shoulder.
He glanced up at her. “Hang on, baby doll. I’ve been dreaming about this for a long time and I want to see you scream.”
Covering her apex with long, wet kisses, John buried his face in her folds. Jane’s yelp turned to a liquid moan. Unable to help herself, she grabbed his hair in both hands and thrust her hips against his face. He murmured his approval, seemed to relish it like a starving man before a feast.
He laved over her aching flesh until it felt like she was on fire. Panting harder and louder, her unintelligible sounds reached a fevered pitch she might have found embarrassing if she weren’t out of her mind. He sucked her hard little bud between his lips and with a deep pull Jane’s world shattered around her in a quivering mass of nerves and trembling thighs.
John fumbled for his pants and retrieved a condom before standing up. Jane’s legs were still jelly, but he rolled on the protection, lifted her leg and slammed into her. Jane’s ass thumped against the door. Her channel burned with pleasure even while the last spasms of her previous orgasm worked over his shaft.
Taking her hands over her head and pinning her to the door she was successfully immobilized. Jane felt the inevitable spiral of orgasm begin again. Shifting, he rocked against her bud.
Their eyes met. His burned into her with a silent message, a plea for acceptance. He wanted her. More than this moment, John wanted her. “Me too,” she whispered, breathily.
John grunted, slammed into her until her orgasm began, then changed the angle of his entry enough to lift her off her toes with each inward strike. Jane’s mind went black. There was rhythmic screaming moments before a man’s guttural yell of completion. With a few more strokes he brought her back to herself.
He freed her arms and she wrapped them around him for support. John lifted her easily and carried her to the bed to cuddle her against his broad chest. Discretely, he disposed of the condom in the trash nearby.
“I don’t want the radio gig anymore. There are other stations in town,” she said.
“What? Why?”
“Because there are sexual harassment laws and I have no intention of giving you up,” she murmured as she took his nipple into her mouth.
“I was afraid you were going to say that you got what you wanted, so to hell with the job.”
“Nope.” Jane cupped the heavy weight of his sack in her hands. “Besides, I require overtime.”
John rolled her over until he was firmly positioned between her legs. “So this means you’ll go out with me, right?”
Jane laughed, “Yeah, I’d like that.”
He sent her a wicked grin. “I know what else you’d like.” John shimmied down her body with worshipful caresses. His thumbs rolled her nipples in unison and she felt the hot flutter of breath between her legs.
Maybe she could let him win this particular argument, she thought as her back arched and her mind blanked.
Story Written by Mia Watts
“The Art of Seduction is Watts beneath the Covers”
www.miawatts.blogspot.com
| 
