Phoenix Rising (2 page)

Chapter Two

She couldn’t stay at the house after he left. Just being inside was stifling. The memories were suffocating. And she was nowhere near ready to sort through them yet. Jessa wanted to get away. The whole world was moving on without her. She was being left behind. Will had his new piece of ass and Ginny’s kids had their new dad. Everybody but Jessa had a new life.

She climbed into the car she rarely drove and headed downtown. Jessa wanted to go somewhere different, far away from the Club or the trendy Galleria. Somewhere normal that didn’t have valet parking or personal shoppers. She needed to walk, to move. It was a desperate effort to stay ahead of the weighty thoughts that were threatening to take her down.

The late spring afternoon was chilly. It had stopped raining but the sunlight was too pale to offer much heat and the wind was biting. Walking past a wide, plate glass window, Jessa caught sight of her reflection.

Her feet stopped, eyes riveted to the glass. She didn’t know the person in the glass, hadn’t known her for years. She certainly wasn’t who she’d set out to become. But does anyone become that person?

She’d married young, too young. Jessa had been nineteen and pregnant. Looking back, she couldn’t be sure they had wanted to get married. But there hadn’t seemed to be any other options worth considering at the time. She hadn’t realized that being a single parent was possible, if not easy.

Then fate had played the final joke on the both of them when Jessa miscarried in her second trimester.

They had struggled for five or six years to get Will through school, trying to start a family, but suffering through two more miscarriages instead. She’d be hard pressed to pinpoint the exact moment in the following hard-as-hell years when she’d realized she didn’t love Will. It wasn’t as if there’d been a particular fight or upheaval that had severed their feelings toward one another. At least not for her, though Jessa suspected his reasoning was much easier to nail down. Will wanted a family. Ginny had one. And that was something Jessa’s body seemed incapable of providing for him.

The sex had died a quiet death sometime after the second miscarriage. Jessa had known Will was fucking other women. The scent of them lingered on his clothes. And she’d learned to interpret the strange feeling in her belly as some kind of premonition that he was slamming his cock into someone else.

But it never bothered her.

She hadn’t wanted him. And she wasn’t even sure she ever really had. They’d had a good time in college. She’d been naive, just a freshman. It had been all about experimenting. Trying to find out what worked and what she liked. Jessa had never meant it to be her only foray into a physical relationship. Now she was back at square one.

Or was she? She had to have gained something worth having over the last nineteen years. Depression and insecurity were hard companions to live with, but Jessa’s figure hadn’t changed much over the years thanks to the Club’s fitness programs. She’d never been comfortable with her body. Most of the couples she and Will associated with were picture perfect. Jessa wasn’t. Nothing about her fit the mold of tall, narrow-waisted, slim-hipped and big-breasted. In fact, Jessa had often been told growing up that she was “big boned,” something that had contributed to a lack of confidence and experience that had landed her in Will’s bed to begin with. At least she was all original, and that was something that couldn’t usually be said about the country club set.

Her face hadn’t changed much, either. Freckles be damned, Jessa was too fond of being outdoors to worry about the sprinkling she had across her nose. Eyes, kind of a nondescript hazel color. And the hair…Jessa’s medium brown hair was possibly the most annoying thing on the planet.

It was straight. In fact, her hair was so straight as to be the polar opposite of curly. Jessa was the bane of her trendy hairdresser. Every appointment was spent listening to the man mutter incomprehensible French oaths, so Jessa had found reasons to cancel for the last six months. Unattended for that long, her hair had grown halfway down her back in one long, solid mass.

“Excuse me, ma’am?”

Jessa was still standing motionless in front of the plate glass window. She vaguely wondered how long she’d been loitering in front of the store while trying to assess her personal worth.

“Can I help you find anything?”

“Find anything?”

Standing about five feet away in front of a doorway, the spunky clerk propped her hands on her hips and cocked her head to one side. There was only one way to describe her. Attitude incarnate.

She looked like a Gothic princess. Her long hair was dyed black and hung in ponytails on either side of her head with a great expanse of bangs framing her pale face. Dark black lines emphasized her huge blue eyes and her full dark red lips were set in a quirky smile. A tiny diamond stud decorated her nose, and what appeared to be a studded dog collar was cinched around her neck.

Her clothes fascinated Jessa. A dark purple corset top accented a waist narrow enough to make even the country club queen envious. The garment had barely enough fabric to cover the nipples of the full breasts bobbing over its top. And her pleated black pinstriped miniskirt was so short Jessa could’ve sworn she could see the hint of purple bows decorating the tops of the girl’s fishnet stockings.

She wore combat boots.

The clerk waved a set of black fingernails toward the window and smiled. “You’ve been staring at the window display for like, ten minutes. I just wondered if there was something you wanted a closer look at.”

Still shell shocked by the Gothic Princess’s royal attire, Jessa hadn’t noticed where she was standing. Eyes darting around, her gaze settled in petrified horror on the words etched in gold on the door. She’d drifted to a stop directly in front of the porn store!

Ambiguously named
Accessories and More
, the store was located in a strip of Old Town buildings built of natural brick and stone. The window displayed some of the sexiest lingerie she’d ever clapped eyes on.

Instantly intrigued, Jessa fought the urge to satisfy her curiosity and go inside. God knew how long she’d been standing in front of the window. Who would know if she went inside and took just a peek at the merchandise?

But people like her didn’t go into those places. She was a member of the Rotary and the Garden Club! She was supposed to be above stuff like porn. In fact, Jessa was so far above porn, she was above sex too.

Jessa fought the rebellious twists and turns of her mind. Was it really about the store or what was in it? Was it even about sex? No. It was about control. Jessa had spent years honing the ability to control her mind and her body and make them do exactly what she wanted. There was no room for spontaneity or lack of self-control in Jessa’s world. Only weak people gave in to their base natures. People like that couldn’t get through the day without an orgasm. They needed sex. It ruled them. Lack of control was why the average male required more than one woman to keep him occupied. Jessa wasn’t like that.

“Ma’am?”

“I was just passing by, that’s all.”

The Princess tilted her head, ponytail shifting to reveal an ear chock-full of silver studs. “C’mon, don’t tell me you’re too chicken to come in here and have a look.”

Jessa knew the jibe for what it was and still couldn’t stop herself from taking the bait. “Chicken?”

One black painted nail tapped her dark red lips. “I think I know what you need.”

“You know what I need?” Jessa couldn’t keep the sarcasm from her voice.

“Even good girls like you need to have fun.”

Her words tapped into something deep inside Jessa. “Well, what about that? What sizes do you have?”

The Princess offered a gap toothed grin. “Come on in and I’ll check for you.”

Stepping inside that store was like walking from one planet to another. Jessa could feel the blush from the roots of her hair to her toes.

It was everywhere!

One whole wall was covered, floor to ceiling, with DVD’s for sale. The covers showed graphic pictures of men and women fornicating in more positions than Jessa knew existed.

“What size are you, ma’am?”

“Huh?” Jessa ripped her gaze from the DVD collection. “I’m a ten, or maybe a twelve…if your sizes run small I might try a fourteen. D.”

Gothic Princess grinned. “I’ll put a few choices in the dressing room. They’ll be waiting whenever you’re ready.”

“Thank you,” Jessa murmured, distracted.

Jessa should’ve gone and hid in the fitting room for an appropriate amount of time. It would’ve been easy to make some lame excuse about the stuff not fitting right and then get the hell out of there. But she didn’t.

She wanted a closer look. The rack at the front was full of…crap, they were cocks! They were made of every material imaginable and came in every color of the rainbow. She stared. It was beyond endurance not to. They looked nothing like the limp excuse for a dick Jessa had seen every night during the years of her marriage.

Big ropy veins creased their smooth surfaces. The rounded heads were broad and blunt, made to press into a woman and spread her wide. Most looked big enough to rip a vagina in two. It was hard not to wonder if it was actually possible to fit one of those inside without pain involved. Before she had a chance to rethink the action, her hand snaked out and pulled one off the shelf.

In her eagerness, Jessa carelessly knocked another box to the floor. She bent and retrieved it. The front showed a picture of a gorgeous, busty blonde woman. She was wearing some kind of harness around her lower half. Jessa squinted, trying to make sure she was seeing things right.

It was an actual strap-on!

The contraption lived on in infamy around housewife circles. Most of her cronies at the good ole’ country club had never seen, let alone used, one. A wave of damp heat flared between her legs. Jessa clamped them together and tried not to squirm. The friction was doing strange things to her body. Sucking in a deep breath, she fought for control of her mind.

But she couldn’t control the part of her brain that wanted to know what it was like to buckle the cock around her waist and fuck pussy like a man.

The brutal direction of her thoughts rattled Jessa on the inside. She’d said something similar to Will about fucking. She hadn’t thought of it in those terms since college, when words like “fuck” and “pussy” had made her feel wild and daring. What kind of a word was “pussy” anyway? And why did the thought of it make something wrench inside her womb? Was she secretly considering a future as a Lesbian?

But that hadn’t ever appealed to Jessa. Not really. As much as she secretly enjoyed the sight of another woman naked, the idea of one of those fake cocks in real form was too enticing.

Dildo still in hand, Jessa headed for the dressing room.

“I can put that up front for you, ma’am.”

The Gothic Princess again. Jessa gladly handed her the dildo. If she wasn’t carrying it around it wouldn’t feel as if she intended to buy it.

Slanting a look beneath her lashes at the smiling sales clerk, Jessa wondered how much of the merchandise she was intimately familiar with. It was hard not to imagine the Gothic Princess using some or all of the products carried in the store. Did she do it alone? Or was she with someone else? How many tricks or skills had she learned on the job?

Another forbidden thought, this one ten times more taboo than the first: the Gothic Princess splayed out against the front counter, bent over, pin-stripe mini up around her tiny waist, some muscular hunk pumping into her from behind.

That was enough! It was time to get a grip on her unruly thoughts. Without another look at the Gothic Princess, Jessa shut the door and retreated to the faux safety of the dressing room. It was huge. Obviously meant for two.

The paper-thin walls were painted black. A violently orange cushioned bench stretched the length of the back wall. How many people had tried on lingerie, only to end up on that bench after finding out how quickly they could get it off?

Sensible knit dress pants and button-down blouse hit the floor in an unceremonious heap. She reached for the fourteen. A size twelve hadn’t fit since before the Twinkie binge nearly four years before.

The black leather bustier was tight. Jessa sandwiched her body in and zipped up the front. Her breasts bulged out over the top, cleavage enough that she was in danger of drowning in it.

Her standard white cotton panties looked ridiculous under the matching garter belt but she tried it on anyway. A strange sensation settled into the pit of her stomach. Mouth dry, she lifted her eyes to the mirror. Needless to say, Jessa liked the reflection. Maybe even a little too much.

Breasts lifted, waist trimmed, hips a soft flare. She looked…alluring. Maybe it was the freaky lighting in that place, but her eyes shifted from brown to green and her hair burnished to a honey color. Several of the long strands slid forward over her shoulders, resting against the curve of one breast.

Oh my God.

She bought everything, even adding a pair of stockings and a black leather thong. She didn’t have any intention of actually wearing the stuff. It was just one of those things to have in the closet. A just-in-case thing. In case of what, she hadn’t a clue. But Jessa was lying to herself anyway, so it didn’t matter.

“Put it on this, please.” Jessa handed the Gothic Princess Will’s platinum MasterCard.

The machine beeped when the magnetic strip slid through the reader. Jessa was just savoring the fact that she’d charged over three hundred dollars on Will’s business credit card at a porn store when the Gothic Princess threw her a curveball.

“Do you want to put this purchase toward your frequent buyer program, Ms. Kincaid?”

The shock of that question penetrated even the lingering numbness of Will’s desertion. Jessa managed a curt nod before pulling her lower lip into her mouth and biting it until the acute discomfort overcame her shock.

Another bombshell, this time dropped from afar. Frequent buyer? If Will’s card was already in their system, it could only mean one thing. Will had been a customer. And from the sound of it, he’d been a frequent customer.