Floor Time (8 page)

"You are insane, you know that?" She stared at the array of stuff on the counter.

"You won't think that when I show you this amazing bottle of wine I found. I forgot I had it." He pulled out a green bottle, with a French label of some sort, two wine glasses and a corkscrew.

"Um, yeah, well, I'm not really comfortable doing this here, I mean, it's not my kitchen." Sara stammered as she took another step away from him to get his smell out of her nose.

"Sure it is." He worked the cork out, which allowed her to admire the amazing definition of his arms. "I'll bet you've spent more time in this fucked-up house with its million-dollar view than you have in your own house since you listed it. I mean, you do opens, you refill sales brochures, you check on the lawn, what else? Tell me I'm wrong." He pulled the cork free, splashed some golden liquid into each glass and handed one to her. By the time he'd completed the task, Sara had made her way nearly six feet from him.

"Baby, I don't bite," he coaxed, as he held out the glass to her.

She surged forward, as if to prove she wasn't afraid, grabbing the glass as she passed. 

"Thanks. Never had a happy hour at an open house."

Sara positioned herself at the far end of the room, as far from Jack as she could get. She faced out to the river and contemplated her options. On the one hand, her body declared its intention, pussy officially soaking wet, her nipples so hard they ached. Her skin quivered in anticipation of what his plans included for a "picnic," in a house where she didn't even feel welcome to use the bathroom, much less host some sort of kinky food-sex session. She glanced at him, standing so calm and collected while every inch of her skin flushed and her heart deafened her with its pounding.

Her hand shook as she raised the glass to her lips. She really should tell him to get the hell out of there. The situation was headed in a very dangerous direction and not because it was pretty obvious he had come here for one reason only. His sheer chemistry spoke volumes to hers. She knew what he wanted. The clarity of that realization calmed her. Looking back out at the river, she tried to slow her breathing. A familiar feeling stole over her. It was an annoying slip of focus, much like when she'd been absorbed with Adam just last year. How in the world could one man turn her on and piss her off so completely by standing on the other side of the room? It simply wasn't fair.

Jack stayed quiet. He stared out the window alongside her, sipping his wine, his breathing calm and controlled.

"What's the basement like?" he asked. "I mean, are there more rooms down there? There is really only one bedroom on this main floor -- that's a tough sell, even with this view."

"Uh, yeah, there are two beds and two more full baths down, plus another great room, a walk out with an enormous fireplace." Sara muttered, brain fuzzy from the shift in conversation. She glanced at her watch. Three twenty-five. About another half hour and they could lock this place up and be on their way.

She watched him, without trying to stare. He was truly larger than life, and he knew it. Tall, exotically Celtic -- "Black Irish" with his raven's wing hair and blue eyes, seemingly ever-present stubble -- he soaked up the energy in any room he entered. His torso was V-shaped and strong, with prominent muscle definition in his arms, shoulders and back, leading down to a completely grab-able ass, strong masculine thighs and calves. She let her eyes travel downward, along his arm that held the wine glass.

Her thighs started to quiver again, so she took a step back from the window. Her brain started to close down. The dark blue of the jeans hugged his ass in way she wished her hands could. It took every ounce of self-control she possessed not to cross the room, drop to her knees in front of him, release that amazing cock and…Sara shut her eyes and pictured them in the hallway of her office again, her back shoved up against the wall, his cock sunk deep inside her. She shivered.

Jack downed his glass, crossed back into the kitchen. She waited for a count of ten and saw him emerge, carrying a tray from God knows where, full of strawberries.

"This view is the best part of this piece of shit house," he declared. "Let's not waste it."

Speechless, she followed him out onto the screened porch where he plopped the tray down on a small square table. A couple of ratty chairs crouched on either side of it. He motioned for her to sit next to him, and began dipping the strawberries into the bowl of cream.

"Sit back Sara," he insisted, in that low voice she remembered so well from the hallway. "Relax. Work time is over."

"B-b-but, it's not four o'clock yet." The pulse between her legs took on a life of its own as she watched him.

New Sara spoke --
Fuck the open house. Let's see what he has planned. You know it will be worth it.

"OK, but wait, let me lock it up and set the alarm." She dashed out of the room under his bemused gaze, locked all four doors, and set the alarm. When she returned and sat back down in the chair, she kicked off her shoes, ready for his next move. He held out a hand. She took it and let him tug her onto his lap.

"Here, have one of these strawberries," he said, as he handed her one drenched in cream. She took the fruit without breaking eye contact with him. Those eyes, the sapphire blue she wanted to drown in. She ignored her brain as it once again tried to raise a protest.

She licked the cream slowly dripping down her fingers. His eyes widened and he captured her hand, brought it to his lips. The sensation of him sucking the crème off made her gasp and moisture flood her panties. The lovely press of his erection against her bottom didn't help. He released her, kept his gaze steady on hers as he dipped another strawberry bringing the sweet concoction to her lips.

Shit. It was some sort of triple cream
. Something she hadn't allowed herself to eat for years
. Incredible
.
Delicious
. The strawberries exploded in her mouth at every bite with bright, sweet flavor. She chewed, swallowed, nodded at him to give her another.

His grin at her eagerness to get at them, to lick them and gorge herself on their bounty didn't even bother her. When he pressed his lips to hers, she had the amazing feeling that she had been kissing him, tasting him, forever. She sighed as he put his hands on her waist and lifted her up. She started to turn and straddle him, aching with need for him to fill her again.

"No." He made her stand all the way up. "Go sit over there." She did, obeying in a way that went against her fundamental resistance to being bossed around. When he pulled her foot onto his lap and sunk his knuckles into her instep, she groaned and leaned her head back. The release of tension in her neck and back seemed directly proportional to the spot on her foot he chose to rub. 

"Oh, Jesus," she muttered, easing herself down further in the chair, allowing more of her leg onto his lap, coming closer to the growing bulge in those amazing jeans.

He continued to caress her foot, stopping only long enough to hand her freshly dipped strawberries. The combined sensations of the rich, sweet cream, and the tart strawberries along with the relaxation he was creating via her foot were nearly too much. She started to sit up, worried about losing control, yet again, to Jack's magic. Her brain tried to break through the fog of horniness. It reminded her that, of all men on the planet, this one she really ought not toy with. It could only end in disaster.

At that moment, the alarm boomed through the house.

"Fuck!" She lurched up, knocking over her wine glass.

"It's cool, I'll see what it is." Jack stood seemingly unaware of the impressive bulge he had on display and walked over to the door of the screened porch.

Sara sat and took long, deep breaths, willing herself calm. Jack was a professional. Had been at this job way longer than she. He could handle whatever it was.

It took about fifteen minutes for him to come back into the porch.

"What," She winced at the squeakiness in her voice. "Did someone want to see the house?"

"Yeah," he laughed, "you forgot to pull in your signs when you locked the place up. These poor saps thought they could walk right in and so they did. I showed them around, made an appointment to meet with them tomorrow to discuss other options. Sweet couple," he smirked.

"You utter asshole," Sara jumped to her feet, prepared to call this little rendezvous finished --
the man had stolen her buyers
. He simply could not turn it off, could he? Her brain cheered her on --
run away, get as far away from him as you can and stay there; it's for your own good.

He intercepted her on her way to the door.

"Hold on, hold on, we'll share them I swear," he declared.

"You know what Jack, fuck you. Get out of here. This is nuts." His eyes narrowed. She crossed her arms and tried to still her pounding heart. His dark gaze pinned her, intent and sexy as hell. She took a breath but as she started to order him out again, he pulled her close, covered her protests with lips and plunged his tongue into her mouth. Walking her backwards a few steps he propped against the wall, and kissed her with an intensity that made the room spin. She tried her best but couldn't resist burying her hands in his thick hair and arch her body into his. He broke the kiss and took her arms from around his neck without a word.

"Take your clothes off. All of them." His voice was rough, low and brooked no argument.

She started to cross her arms but he yanked them over her head, pinning her against the wall as he had done that night in her office. The cloud of lust that surrounded her parted, leaving room only for bright clear fury. His lips were centimeters from hers. His strong body pressed into hers, compelling in her ways she didn't know existed.
I can't let him do this
. She licked her lips, encouraging him to come closer.

"Ow! Son of a…" he stepped away holding a hand over his mouth. Sara's body shook and she had to sink to her heels. She could taste blood and knew she'd bitten hard, and meant it. But her brain had shut down on her now, leaving her alone with regret and a sharp kernel of unmet need. She knew at that moment she'd do whatever he wanted. She had to, somehow, although part of her tried to fight it. He pulled her to her feet, gentle, his eyes concerned.

"Trust me. Take them off Sara." He leaned in before she could move away and licked her lower lip, letting her know she was forgiven, before stepping back.

Her hands shook as she slid the zipper down the front of her blouse, slipped her trousers off her hips. If he thought she'd be intimidated by this, he had another thing coming. The breeze kicked through the screen, bringing a welcomed chill to her overheated flesh. She raised her chin and flipped the clasp on her bra, hooked a finger through her panties. Hesitating just a minute, long enough for him to give a nearly imperceptible nod, she slid them down her legs and stood up, trying not to cross her arms over her nudity.

"Dear God you are exquisite." He breathed, not moving from his spot nearly two feet away. She sensed something, something she would come to associate with a darkness deep in him that she wanted more than anything to lighten, as long as he shared it with her, and only her.

Mine
. The voice started out small, but got steadily louder in her brain.
Mine
? Oh hell, she was really screwed.

Jack swallowed, took a breath, and came to terms with what he wanted to do to the woman standing there, glorious, naked and…his. He shook his head. No, she was just there. In no way whatsoever was she "his." His chest tightened as he closed the gap between them and ran a hand down her cheek, neck, across her collarbones, and cupped one breast as his thumb brushed the hard nipple. She shuddered but didn't move.

He cupped her neck with his other hand and pulled her close, slanted his lips over hers and dove into her mouth, lazy, slow, easy but stopped when she started to hold him close.

"No. Hands down. I'm touching. You are just letting me." She frowned but he smiled, and kissed her forehead. "It's okay Sara. Let it go. Let me do this. You won't be sorry I promise you."

Jack felt the dark control steal over him, let it take him, as he ran his hands over his woman's body while she stood, trembling; eyes trained on his. His soul longed for more, to take, own and possess in ways he had never experienced. His balls ached, his cock was so hard, and he knew if she touched him now he'd likely come all over himself like a teenager.

He teased the hard nubs of her nipples with both thumbs, licked her lips then owned her mouth once more. The small sounds she made drove him insane but he kept control, held back. "I'm going to make you come Sara, but you can't until I tell you. Do you understand? If you do, I'm leaving and you can't do any of the touching I know you want to do." He cradled her face in his hands. Her eyes were wide and her breathing fast. He could smell her need, her lust, and it made him grit his teeth against the urgency to toss her on the floor and fuck her. No. He had to do this. Had to see if he still could. But more importantly, if she would.