Hay Fever Vanessa Hart Published 2004 ISBN 1-931761-92-2 Published by Liquid Silver Books, imprint of Atlantic Bridge Publishing, 6280 Crittenden Ave, Indianapolis, Indiana. Copyright © 2004, Vanessa Hart. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author. Manufactured in the United States of America Liquid Silver Books http://www.liquidsilverbooks.com Email:
[email protected] Cover Art by Donette Smock This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental. Chapter One Her lips slid over the rigid surface as she covered the full length with her mouth. Easing back, she licked her way around the end, then retraced the path in a slow, erotic caress with her tongue. Her eyes closed, she sucked her way back to the rounded tip, then licked moisture from her lips. Her pink tongue returned to its target, circling first clockwise, then counterclockwise. Widening her mouth, she seemed about to deep throat the thing. Haywood King suppressed a groan. This was a first for him, aroused watching a woman eat a frozen
fudge pop. Eat, hell! She was making love to the thing. Sudden longing surged through him, settling in his groin. Crossing his legs, he concealed the beginning of an erection. Her attention held by a large textbook, which lay open on the table before her, she couldn't know what effect she had on him. He watched as the frozen confection shrank with each dive into the depths of her mouth. And, God, what a mouth! He needed to visit the Dairy Queen more often, although another peep show like this and he'd embarrass himself. Or get arrested. He tried to focus on his bacon double cheeseburger and fries, but his gaze slid back to the woman in the next booth. The fudge pop had finally dissolved, thank God, but then she licked the stick. Her nimble tongue seemed determined to get the last microscopic speck of frozen chocolate, as it flicked back and forth across the pop's wooden stick. She looked young, too young for his thirty-year-old lust. Mousy blond hair pulled primly back at her nape, she wore no makeup to hide her youthful freckles. In a few years, she'd mature into a real heartbreaker, he'd bet. But she wasn't his style--not by a long shot--in spite of her luscious mouth. Shelby Simpson intruded into his thoughts, with her dark, dark eyes and her dark, dark hair. And her dark, dark heart. Damn! Wasn't he over her yet? She was his style, and where had that gotten him? It had been months since he'd kissed her, made love to her. Or anyone else, for that matter. No wonder something as silly as watching the blonde lick her way around a frozen fudge pop aroused him. He'd best be about his business instead of staring at some young co-ed at the DQ. His business, as it were, included a stop at the costume shop down on Market Street. He'd sooner sit for a root canal than to entertain guests at Grandy's annual post-Derby party. Not that he had the choice. He'd had a good report at the dentist last week. Besides, he'd be the last person to disappoint his favorite grandmother. Stuffing the rest of the cheeseburger into his mouth, he stole one last glimpse at the fudge pop girl. Oblivious to his scrutiny, she turned the page and continued to study. Plain, unremarkable face, maybe ... but he'd never forget that mouth. **** Tuxedo-clad waiters circulated the grounds and served mint juleps to the costumed guests. Jill Breckinridge had never seen so many Japanese lanterns, enough to light an airstrip. A dance band played to dancers beneath the larger of two striped tents. A buffet drew partygoers to the other tent. She shivered in the evening air. Why couldn't Meredith have made her a gorilla suit? Or at least a fur-coated Mae West costume. Instead, the revealing genie costume left too much of Jill's skin exposed. Kentucky weather was rarely warm the first weekend in May, although it wasn't the weather that had her quivering tonight. Tonight was Jill's debut as her reinvented self, Jill the seductress. At twenty-one years of age--oops! Make that twenty-two, tomorrow being her birthday--she'd overreacted last week when a guy her age had called her ma'am. Ma'am! Just because she worked at the library's checkout desk didn't make her an old librarian spinster. No, what made Jill--the old Jill, that is--an old librarian spinster was her dowdiness, the lack of style that made her plain and unremarkable. Forgettable. Old. Then there was that other matter, her ... virginity. If she didn't take immediate corrective action, she truly would be an old librarian spinster. Thanks to Meredith, her younger but prettier sister, Jill now had highlights in her dull blond hair, and a
new attitude. With the white domino concealing part of her face, she could afford a little boldness toward the opposite sex that she otherwise wouldn't have dared. With her ample breasts about to spill out of the tight bodice of her fuchsia pink costume--and its see-through fabric legs and sleeves hiding nothing else--Jill felt bold without doing or saying a thing. Despite the chill, she accepted a frosty drink, served in a souvenir Derby glass, one that listed all the winners of past Kentucky Derbies. Although she'd never acquired a taste for bourbon, she needed the antifreeze tonight. Antifreeze and a tranquilizer. If only her sister had come to the party with her. She had an invitation, of course, being one of the Breckinridge daughters. She'd given Jill a crash course on seduction, which Jill now struggled to remember. She needed Meredith's coaching. But Danny and Meredith had other plans for post-Derby celebrating and Jill was left on her own. If only she had her sister's slim body, her confidence. If onlys would get her nowhere. Jill sipped her drink, savoring the fresh, minted ice. The sugar and bourbon syrup slid smoothly across her tongue and down her throat. A pleasant burn followed. Perhaps she did enjoy the taste of bourbon, after all. She exchanged her empty Derby glass for a full one from a passing waiter's tray. Her gaze swept the outdoor garden, where at least a hundred guests mingled. If she were going to test out her new persona, she needed to mingle, too. She sipped another mouthful of the minty bourbon slush before heading toward the tents. An attack of nerves seized her. She didn't recognize a soul in the masked faces of those she greeted--not the Emmett Kelly clown, the tin man nor the scarecrow--although something about the cowardly lion and Dorothy seemed familiar. Emerging from the tent, a foursome of Ninja warriors brushed past her. To her dismay, everyone appeared paired off, although most of the men managed to leer at her from the eye slits in their masks. A couple dressed as a pair of Aces exposed as much of their bodies as Jill. But they had each other. Whose body heat would Jill share? She stepped inside the tent, taking in the crowd at the buffet line. A medieval lady, with her harlequin held away from her face like a fan instead of a mask, was none other than the party's hostess, Beverly Haywood. Nodding to a man dressed as a cowboy, she moved on to greet other guests. The cowboy crossed his arms as he leaned against the end of the bar. He was tall and lean, but not thin. His white hat cast a shadow across his forehead. His eyes peered through slits in a black mask. Dressed in white jeans and shirt, he reminded her of the Lone Ranger. Maybe that's who he was supposed to be. Was he waiting for someone? Dare she, Jill, approach the bar? Just then, he stared directly at her. But he didn't smile or nod, or acknowledge her in any way. In fact, his mouth tightened into a straight line, as if he'd found something about her distasteful. She struck the cowboy off her prospect list and turned toward the buffet line. If she didn't receive a genuine, honest-to-God pass within the hour, she'd abandon this party. Surely she could attract one guy tonight. Please, God. I don't want to be a wallflower anymore. She picked up a paper plate and stared at the array of dishes. The Haywood clan pulled out all the stops when it came to barbecue. Any other time, Jill would've piled her plate with barbecued mutton, ribs, and chicken, along with the country style vegetables. Any other time, she wouldn't be a bundle of nerves, parading around half-naked. Why couldn't she be confident and poised like other girls? Like Meredith? Because she wasn't like any of them. She didn't want to be the life of the party. She wanted an old-fashioned family, with a loving husband and a child or two. Someday. But first, she'd have to go through the dating routine. Meredith had told her often enough that she couldn't stay a virgin and reach
her goal. Gone were the days when a guy married an "untouched" woman. Standing lost in thought, she didn't realize she held up the line until a man's voice ripped her back to reality. "Can't find anything you like?" She looked up--and up--into the face of the Lone Ranger. Yeah, she'd found something she liked, all right. Up close, this dude was one hundred percent hunk. He still didn't smile, but at least his voice sounded friendly enough. His eyes reminded her of a shot of Makers Mark, dark amber and liquid. His hair hid beneath the hat, but was probably dark brown, judging from the scattering of dark hair on his hands. "Too many choices," she said. "It all looks delicious." "You'd better eat. The hostess has this catered all the way from Owensboro. It's the best barbecue in seven states." She knew all that. Still, wasn't she supposed to be friendly, to feed his ego? To pique his interest? Suddenly she realized he was the first male party guest not to stare at her boobs--refreshing, if disappointing. "Which seven states?" Reaching past her, he grabbed tongs and served himself ribs. "Kentucky, Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Tennessee, West Virginia, and Missouri." She shook her head no at the ribs when he offered to serve her. Maybe she'd just have a bit of the chicken. "Very good. You know your geography." He gave her a brief grin. "I know my barbecue." Her gaze swept over him in what she hoped was blatant appraisal. What she knew about flirting would fit on a microscope slide. "That's a great costume, cowboy." He snorted. "Except for eating barbecue. What was I thinking when I rented a white costume?" She dished out green beans. "It's ... uh ... flattering." "If you're fishing for a compliment on your own outfit, you're at the wrong pond." "What's that supposed to mean?" "In that getup, you're asking for nothing but trouble." **** The girl in the genie costume crooked her finger, beckoning him to move closer, as if she had a secret to share. "Tomorrow's my birthday. I am looking for trouble. Well, not trouble, exactly. You know. Fun." "Fun? Is that a euphemism for sex?" She frowned, and, to his surprise, blushed. Or was it the uneven lighting under the tent? Then she met his gaze, her baby blues studying him from the slits in her mask. She stood close, so close he caught the floral fragrance of her perfume. Then she smiled again. "Maybe." Her breath brushed his ear and cheek. He knew if he kissed her, he'd taste sweet bourbon and mint. But he had no intention of kissing the little tease. "Which birthday?"
"Twenty-second." In your dreams, sweetheart. She looked twenty at most, although he'd need to remove her half-mask to be sure. It wasn't his problem and he sure wasn't looking to give her the fun she sought. Hell, he had to be at least ten years older than she. "I hope you'll take your fun elsewhere. This is a respectable old lady's costume ball, not a roadhouse." "And I'm a young woman socializing, not a hooker." She shoved him aside and strode to the other tent. Nice going, Hay. He'd offended her when all he'd wanted was to dissuade her. Why should he care about her welfare? Of course, there was Grandy. He didn't want lewd behavior or an unseemly incident besmirching her beloved annual gala. Unseemly? Besmirching? Where had that come from? God, he sounded just like his mother. What was eating him? Unbidden, the memory of yesterday's frozen fudge pop girl returned, with a vengeance. What he wouldn't give to have her eating him! Not that he'd seriously engage in meaningless sex with the stranger, but what a fantasy. If he allowed himself complete candor--and he was always candid--he'd admit he didn't like seeing a young woman as attractive and clever as the genie degrade herself. To him, casual and impersonal sex was degrading, to both women and men. But casual, impersonal sex seemed to be what the genie had on her mind. Chapter Two Jill jumped back as a man brushed against her. Beneath the pirate's mask, green eyes leered at her. The pirate didn't back away, rather crowded her against the bar. "Excuse me." She shifted to bypass him. "Where ye goin', pretty genie?" He grinned. "Want me to carry ye back to me pirate ship, lady?" About to protest, she remembered her new persona. She sized up the man. He may have been her age, but not older. Acne dotted the uncovered skin beneath his half mask. "Maybe later." "Wanna mint julep?" "Yeah." She needed several more drinks before she'd be able to warm up to this guy. But at least he wasn't sporting a wedding band, as the last guy had. Twice her age, the geezer had actually hit on her while his wife chatted up Beverly Haywood, not twenty feet away. Fortunately, the wife arrived to collect her husband, although Jill considered herself to be the one rescued. "Me name's Jack." Sure, whatever. "Mine's Genie." He handed her the refill. "Of course." "Thanks for the drink." She saluted him with her glass. Jill sipped the sugary mint julep, not wanting to guzzle her third. Or was it her fourth? Had she truly had enough alcohol to consider surrendering her virginity to Jack? On the one hand, he lacked sex appeal or charm. On the other, she had no reason to believe she could do better, not when guys her age ignored
her like wallpaper and called her ma'am. But was she this desperate? No. He draped his arm around her shoulders. "I'll ply ye with liquor and have me way with ye, my pretty." "I ... don't think so." She shrugged off his arm. "See you around, Jack." But not if I see you first. When she turned away from the bar, he hurried to block her retreat. "Aw, come on, Genie. I was only playing pirate. I meant no offense." He appeared genuinely contrite. Well, maybe he wasn't such a jerk. "You're forgiven. Now, if you'll excuse me..." "Wait. Can we at least dance?" His eyes pleaded with her to give him a chance. Her mint julep-clouded brain couldn't come up with a single reason to refuse him."Why not?" Grinning, he grabbed her by the wrist. "Great!" She scurried after him as he dragged her to the makeshift dance floor. Although the music had a cha-cha beat, he enfolded her in his arms and began to sway and move, definitely to the beat of a different drum ... song ... whatever. Sighing, she rested her head against his shoulder and allowed him his slow dance. Jack obviously took this as encouragement. His hands pawed her back, resting on her buttocks. When he pulled her against him, his erection pressed into her belly. She jerked back to face him and gasped. She tried to pull away but he tightened his hold and squeezed her bottom cheeks none too gently. Her other cheeks flamed beneath her mask. "Stop it." Jack chuckled into her ear. "Don't fight it. We want each other. Why shouldn't we have what we both want, little Genie?" "Excuse me." The formidable Lone Ranger tapped Jack on the shoulder. "I'm cutting in." "Like hell, buddy. Find your own chick." "Why not let the lady decide?" Lone Ranger nodded at Jill. "Are you with the pirate, or may I have this dance?" Jack tightened his grip on her buttocks. "She's with me." She stamped her foot down with all the force she could muster, connecting with his instep. With a surprised yelp, he released her. She stepped back, just outside of reach. "I'm not with you nor do I care to dance with the Lone Ranger." She fled the dance tent for the bar at the barbecue buffet. Men! Who'd asked macho man to rescue her from Long John Silver, anyway? The arrogant Lone Ranger seemed to think she was a slut so why the damsel-in-distress rescue? She'd shown him. She'd shown both of them. Unfortunately, she'd just discarded her only two prospects for the evening. **** Hay glared at the pirate. "Well, I guess we both struck out."
"Why'd you interfere? I was making progress." "I interfered because you were making progress. Her father's a judge, you know," Hay lied. He had no idea who she nor her father were. "I don't want him suing my grandmother because someone at her party accosted his underage daughter." "Underage? Accosted?" The guy paled. "Hey, I didn't know." "You need to learn to take no for an answer, kid." "Huh? She didn't say no..." Hay crowded the kid's space. "I distinctly heard the lady say 'stop it.'" "Yeah, but she didn't mean ... wait a sec. You're one of the Haywoods?" "Mom was the Haywood. I'm a King." Hay grimaced. "I mean, my last name is King." But pirate man had already retreated. The poor guy couldn't have been more than nineteen or twenty. Still, he was old enough and he shouldn't have been hunching Hay's genie ... not that she was Hay's. But, hell, he'd seen her first. If she wanted so desperately to get laid, regardless of with whom, shouldn't Hay have a shot? At least, he knew what he was doing and wouldn't lead her on or hurt her. He'd also be discreet and spare Grandy a scene at her party. Was that the mother of all rationalizations, or what? Valid excuse or not, his groin reacted at the idea of bedding the sexy little genie. And it had been a while. She sure tested the hell out of his celibacy. Celibacy? What a concept. He hadn't chosen celibacy. He'd thought to be married by now, to have one and only one lover for the rest of his life. Unfortunately, Shelby needed more. More sex, more lovers, or maybe just more attention. Hay had wasted too many nights trying to figure out Shelby Simpson. He wasn't about to let her ruin tonight, too. If he decided to take what the little genie offered, he'd not let thoughts of his last lover spoil the moment. **** Jill dumped the uneaten food into the nearest trash barrel. The caterers had placed plastic-lined drums along the perimeter of the tent for the guests' convenience, although they scurried around to take away empty plates. Jill didn't want to offend them by letting them see her uneaten food. Except for a few of the veggies, she couldn't afford to eat. She needed to lose at least ten pounds before she'd truly fit into Meredith's bikini, not that she'd ever feel comfortable wearing it. Her legs buckled. Grabbing the trash bin, she steadied herself. How many mint juleps had she downed? How many calories were in each sugary drink? No more mint juleps, Jill. "Are you all right?" The Lone Ranger again. "You're taking your role to heart, aren't you? Rescuing folks in trouble?" "Are you?" "Am I in trouble?" She giggled. "Are you all right?" He didn't return her smile. What a grump.
"I'll be fine if I stay away from the liquor." "I hope you aren't underage." She suspected that under his mask he lifted an eyebrow. "I told you, tomorrow I turn twenty-two. I'm legal, just not used to imbibing." He still didn't smile, nor did he offer to move away. What a pain in the neck. "Excuse me." She started to push past him when she swayed. He gripped her upper arms. "Steady." She tried to shake off the dizziness. "Am I drunk?" "Could be, but at this party, you ain't the Lone Ranger." Another giggle escaped. "No, silly, you are." Then he smiled. Man-oh-man, how he smiled! Maybe the guy had a tender spot after all. She was still mad at him, though, if only she could remember why. Oh, yeah, he was condescending. Insulting. Gorgeous. Oh, boy, if only she had a chance with him. Of course she didn't, but maybe tonight, as the incognito genie... "Let's find a place to sit down for a minute," he said. She tried to nod, but her head wouldn't cooperate. Still gripping one of her arms, Lone Ranger helped her outside the tent, where white wrought iron benches dotted the garden and lawn. A chilly breeze brushed her skin. With any luck, it'd sober her. "Here." He gently pushed her into the first vacant seat, then slipped down beside her. A strong flowery scent wafted over her. "What's that heavenly smell?" "I'm no horticulturist, Genie, but I'd say it's flowers." A sense of humor, too. If only he'd flirt with her, or at least show some interest. But he treated her more like a troublesome child than a pick up. "I didn't mean to drink so many mint juleps. I guess I'm nervous." He rested his arm behind her on the back of the bench. "Nervous? Why?" "Well, it's not everyday I go to a party with such a serious mission." "What is your serious mission?" She started to say, "None of your business." To her horror, what came out of her thick-tongued mouth was, "Get laid." He didn't so much as flinch. Or recoil. He ... nodded. "Figured that. My question is, why?" Huh? "Why? Well, because ... because I... Do I need to give you a reason?" "I just wondered. Did you break up with a boyfriend and want to get back at him? Are you trying to make a guy jealous? What's the purpose of this so-called mission?"
"Boyfriend?" She snorted. "I haven't had time for a boyfriend. Maybe if I had, I wouldn't have to cruise a masquerade party looking for a ... um ... partner." "But why tonight?" "Silly, it's a masquerade party. I don't want him to know my identity and I don't want to know his." "The reason for this anonymity being?" God, this guy was dense. Or maybe he enjoyed her predicament. But he wasn't laughing. He peered intently into her eyes, as if studying a bug under a glass. Exactly what she felt like under his scrutiny, a microscope specimen. The wrought iron bench did nothing to cool the sudden flush of heat through her body, the pink flush that surely tinted her flesh. Where was her new self-confidence? "Well, duh, Mr. Ranger. I don't want to be embarrassed if I actually know the man or meet him under other circumstances." He frowned. "Why would you want to have meaningless sex with a guy in the first place?" "Well, sex is often meaningless to guys. I know that. But it would be meaningful to me." "Sorry, Genie, I don't follow you." "You don't have to actually follow me. If you could just pick out some guests that you think would be good ... um ... candidates." He straightened, withdrawing his arm from the back of the seat. Man, he was tall. "You want me to help you in this ridiculous quest?" "Ridiculous? Oh, I see." Losing her virginity would be a rite of passage for her, but nothing a guy would treasure. She scrambled to her feet. At least this time the ground didn't shift. "You obviously fail to understand the significance of my mission." The Lone Ranger sighed. "I guess I don't. But I will help you. I know most of the guests." Oh, dear! "Then you know me?" He shook his head no. "But I'd like to. Sit back down and let's talk." And waste precious time. Still, she might sober up. Whether that was a good or bad thing, she wasn't sure. She sank back into the bench beside the curious, but incredibly handsome Lone Ranger. She didn't want them to become friends because she absolutely refused to sleep with a guy she knew. Too bad. This guy was one sexy dude, and interesting, too. If only she were like Meredith. She dropped onto the bench. "Remember, no names." "Okay, Genie. We'll play it your way. Just call me Hay." "Hay?" "It's short for "Hey, You!." He smiled again. "Okay, Hey You. First question. You're such a gentleman. You've not made the first pass at me. Is that because there's a Mrs. You, or an almost Mrs. You?"
He averted his gaze, but not before she caught the anger that darkened his eyes. Or was it sadness? "No. No Mrs. You." "I'm sorry. I think I struck a nerve. I wasn't prying..." "Suffice it to say, I'm single." "I see. Well, then, I rest my case." He shook his head. "I hope when you're sober, your logic is easier to follow." "Never mind." Disappointment clouded the moment. He hadn't made a pass at her, and he wasn't involved with anyone else. Even in her revealing genie costume, she wasn't attractive enough for the likes of Hey. "Are you gay?" "No. Just selective." What had she expected? Selective guys didn't go for mousy Jill Breckinridge, even in the revealing genie outfit. She bolted from the seat. "Well, that says it all." He tugged her back down beside him. "Don't be offended." "Don't be offended? That's rich." Choosy guys picked Meredith, not Jill. Choosy guys didn't even notice Jill. She had to run around half-naked in the chilly May night to attract attention from any man. He shook his head. "Look, it's not you, it's me. I'm sour on women right now, thanks to a defective fiancée." "No woman in her right mind would dump you." Damn her liquor-loosed tongue! Had she actually said that? He grinned, as if enjoying her discomfort. "Thank you." "Thanks to this defective fiancée, you think all women are ... what?" "Shallow, insincere and untrustworthy, for starters." "She really did a number on you, eh?" He shrugged. "I apologize if I seem..." "Harsh and unfair?" "Yeah." He smiled again and her breath caught. "So how do we get acquainted without revealing our identities?" "We don't." She'd already revealed too much to this man. She stood, a little too fast, and closed her eyes against the spinning sensation. "It's time for me to mingle again." He shot to his feet beside her. "I'll go with you." Right. He'd help her select potential candidates. He wouldn't want her for himself, and, damn it, that stung. Why couldn't he want her? Just for tonight she'd hoped to escape the old insecurities. "Remember, no names. But please steer me away from any married guys. I do have scruples." She watched for a reaction, but he gave her a blank look. What did she expect? And why did she care
about Hey's opinion of her? He guided her toward the tent with the band and the dance floor, which suited her fine. She needed to avoid food, considering how many calories she'd already consumed in five mint juleps--five? Or maybe just four? She struggled to count her refills. She stopped, holding up her souvenir glass. "I need to take this to my car." "My God, girl, you're driving tonight?" "Well, not until I sober up, Hey. I didn't mean to drink so many mint juleps." "Why did you?" This time, his voice held no censure, only curiosity. "I told you, I'm nervous." She giggled. "Or I was." He sighed. "Okay. So by stashing your glass in your car, you hope to avoid drinking, right?" "Egshackly." She nodded, grinning. He didn't grin back at her, just held out his hand motioning for her to precede him to the field in which the cars were parked. "Lead the way." **** Hay couldn't let the genie wander on her own. Mission, my ass! She was playing with fire. Didn't she know the dangers in anonymous sex? AIDS, pregnancy, even murder ... the same risks a prostitute faced. It didn't take a psychologist to spot her insecurities. Was she using sex to prove herself desirable? God, if she only knew. He'd been sporting a boner ever since he'd glanced down at those creamy, plump breasts that nearly popped out of her costume's top. She had curves in all the right places, and the sexiest voice. Instead of the squeaky, immature soprano he'd expected, she spoke in a smoky alto. Maybe it'd been too long since he'd gotten any. Who was he kidding? He hadn't even wanted a woman since Shelby, damn her hide. But now he wanted to drag Genie into the nearest back seat and screw his brains out. It was all he could do to keep his hands off of her. Genie stopped suddenly, and he stumbled into her. "What is it?" "If I show you my car, you could identify me by it later." "Must be a distinctive car." He sensed her frown, although it was too dark to see it. "Not really. I just can't take the chance." Giving into the temptation to touch her, he stroked the length of her jaw with his knuckles. "Does that mean I'm in the running?" "Running? You mean you'd want..." He spoke without thinking. "I want you." "Y-you do?" Why not? He'd protect her, make sure she didn't get hurt. Sure, it was a lousy rationalization for getting
laid, but that didn't make it wrong. "Is that so hard to believe?" he asked. "Frankly, yes. You haven't been exactly ... um, I mean ... you didn't seem interested in me." "Oh, I'm interested. So how about it?" "Um..." "I'm calling your bluff, Genie. You want a single guy for an anonymous lay. I'm your guy." "You are?" What did she want, a damn resume? An unexpected surge of disappointment hit him. "Sure, Genie, unless you aren't serious about your 'mission'..." "Oh, I'm serious. Very." "Well, then. I have a condom in my wallet, and the blood bank tests me every eight weeks. I'm clean, healthy and willing." "Um, okay, but don't you think I should check out the rest of the guests first?" If she hadn't seemed so damn nervous, he would have been offended. "With all modesty, considering the clowns circulating this party, you're not likely to do better." "Okay." She squeezed her Derby glass between both hands until he feared it would shatter. "Okay?" She nodded. "Now what?" "Are you determined to keep this anonymous?" "Absolutely." She didn't slur her words, but by her own admission she'd overdosed on mint juleps. "We'll take off everything but our masks, then." He thought he heard her swallow. "Um, right." "Let's take our time, okay? I want your head clear before we jump in the sack." He squeezed her upper arms, then rubbed his hands against her chilled skin. "You're shivering. Let's find a warm, cozy spot." She gazed up at him then, her eyes two liquid pools in the dark slits of her mask. He'd go slow, just as he said, but not so slow that he would resist those luscious lips. He and the little genie would take their time, and it would be a good time, too. He could use a healthy dose of sex himself. No-strings, anonymous, recreational sex. Being the stable, committed male had earned him nothing but heartache and humiliation, anyway. This time it wouldn't mean a thing. It wouldn't have to. Chapter Three He wanted her! This incredible hunk wanted to have sex with dowdy Jill, the library desk clerk. Well, not
exactly Jill. Tonight she was Genie, bold and sexy. It was her alter ego he wanted. Still, a tightening in her belly and a sudden rush of the jitters told her this was no ordinary event. Of all the guys she'd met, at school, at the party, or at work, none had appealed to her like the masked man ... the man who wanted her. Tonight. Jill couldn't let the guy walk her to the car. One look at the vintage GTO and he'd know exactly who she was. Her father's classic car collection was known all over Kentuckiana. She didn't need the Derby glass anyway. Meredith had wanted it for her stupid collection, but she could buy herself one at Target or Kroger for two bucks. If Jill lost the souvenir glass, so be it. She couldn't risk Lone Ranger seeing her car. She followed him through the lawn, the dewy bluegrass dampening her slippers. He kept to the shadows, skirting the tents and lanterns, and led her toward the back of the two-story brick house that had been the Haywood home for generations. He gripped her hand and her pulse accelerated, whether from his touch or the clandestine adventure, she couldn't say. They slipped inside the door, past the kitchen, and into the long hall. "Should we be in here?" she whispered. He grinned and winked. God, what a smile! "Trust me." She grimaced as her wet soles squeaked against the polished wood flooring. "You should do that more often." He paused at the wide staircase. "Do what?" "Smile." "Why?" Still grinning, he tugged at her hand. "Come on." At least he hadn't waited for her answer. Why, indeed? Because it transformed his grim features into those of a sexy hunk? Dare she tell him so? Suddenly, he stopped. They'd reached the split landing, where a second set of stairs from the back of the house merged with the front stairway. He watched the activity from the kitchen area beyond her line of vision. After a pause, he tugged again at her arm and led her to the second floor hallway. A series of doors lined the wide hall, half a dozen in either direction. Without hesitation, he pulled her to the next to the last door on the right of the stairs. "Do you know where you're taking me?" "I've been here a few times. I know this room is seldom used." She'd seen him talking with Beverly Haywood, so he probably knew the family well. She might as well trust him, since she'd already set the parameters. No identities. As he drew her into a darkened room, she realized that, for whatever reason, she did trust him. Foolish, perhaps, but no more foolish than her night's mission. A tiny nightlight near the baseboard cast the only light in the room, enough for her to determine it was a bedroom, although with its floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and polished wood paneling, the room reminded her of a library, except for the twin beds. Her gaze lingered at the matching plaid bedspreads and pillow shams. She swallowed hard.
"Cold feet?" he asked. "Not me," she said, although she couldn't hide her nervousness. This was, after all, her grand initiation into womanhood, with a super special man. No, she didn't have cold feet. In fact, every part of her body burned. "You?" He chuckled into the darkness and moved closer. "Hardly." He quietly closed the door, then twisted the lock. In the shadows, she saw him remove his hat and toss it on one of the beds. Then his arms slid around her waist, drawing her against his tall, hard body. She gripped his biceps--his incredibly hard biceps. A pinewoods scent of aftershave wafted over her as he lowered his head. "Let's start with a kiss," he said. Without waiting for her reply, he covered her mouth with his warm, moist lips. Surprised by his gentleness, she leaned into him and allowed him to deepen the kiss. With tentative strokes of his tongue, he teased the ridges of her lips, then angled his head for a better fit. So close that their half-masks rubbed, they tasted each other. His tongue slipped between her lips and explored the recesses of her mouth. But this was no ordinary French kiss, nothing like the slobbery attempts by the few boys she'd dated. This exploration stroked and caressed, arousing her in ways she'd only known through her few attempts at self-satisfaction. Moisture seeped into the thin fabric at her crotch, while her nipples hardened. One of his hands caressed her ribcage, inching closer to one of her breasts. The kiss went on and on, and she yearned for him to touch her aching nipples. But Lone Ranger, or Hey, or whoever this masterful lover was, meant it when he said they'd take it slow. As if reading her mind, he ended the kiss. "Slow enough, Genie?" Too slow, she wanted to say, but her mouth still tingled. Not wanting to speak as if afraid she'd lose the taste of him, she merely nodded. "Good. Next, I'm going to touch you like I've wanted to all night." Yes! With that, his hand slid inside her bikini bra, exposing her plump breast. Oh, please, please, touch me! His hand cupped her--God, yes! There. With his thumb, he stroked her nipple until it stiffened even more. She squeezed her groin muscles to contain--or increase, she wasn't sure--the pressure between her legs. Her clitoris tingled. "You like?" he asked, his breath warming her ear. She whispered "yes" just as he covered her mouth in another kiss. The combination of his nipple massage with the potent kiss aroused her to new heights. Her body trembled uncontrollably. He ended the kiss, but just to say, "Now I want to touch you." For the next few--but interminable--minutes, he broke their kisses just long enough to announce each of his next moves. His talented hands worked their magic until her bones seemed to dissolve. When his
fingers inched their way lower and slipped into her genie trousers, through her feminine curls, she moaned. This was too slow! She wanted him to touch her there, and now! But Hey took his time, kissing and stroking her nipple with one hand, teasing her labia with the other. All she could do was hang on for dear life. "Let's move this to the bed." He didn't wait for her reply, although she didn't have a shred of protest in her. His ex-fiancée must have been out of her freaking mind. Jill might be a virgin, but she knew this was no ordinary lover. His taste, his touch, were magical. Breathtaking. His kisses were enough to convince her she was more than a plain Jane. His hands abandoned her sensitized body parts while he turned down the covers on one of the beds. She already missed his touch and had to suppress a whine. He turned back to face her. "Will you undress me? Except for the mask, of course." Undress him? Well, duh--of course she needed to show some interest in his satisfaction. Up until now, she'd been focused on her own. He'd turned her into a jellied mass. She collected herself, regaining some of her senses. If he thought her a novice at lovemaking, he might back out. Meredith had warned her that guys were funny about breaking in virgins, although she hadn't elaborated. Jill took her word for it and concentrated on what she could do to appear more experienced. First she attacked the buttons on his western-style shirt. No, not buttons. Snaps. She pulled his shirt from the waistband and tugged it open, unsnapping the front in a show of aggression she didn't feel, praying that the shirt fabric didn't tear. The sturdy fabric held. Next she reached for the buckle on his belt and unfastened it. When she reached for the snap, he sucked in a breath. Was he ticklish? He gripped her hand and pushed it against the denim fly. "Feel what you do to me, little genie?" Indeed she did. Her fingers met with denim stretched taut over his solid, swollen penis. She ran her palm over his length, eliciting a deep groan from him. She had aroused the man, and the knowledge made her giddy. In the dimly lit room, behind the domino mask, Jill Breckinridge could be bold, sexy, and attractive. **** Where the hell was his control? Hay had every intention of showing the young woman a good time in bed, but at some point he'd lost his focus. No, not some point. The minute he'd tasted her lips in that first, long and wonderful kiss. Genie had a mouth made for kissing. Once he touched her luscious tits and dipped his fingers into her wet pussy, he knew she had a body made for sex, too. So responsive, so warm. So... Damn it! When had she pulled down his zipper? His lips locked to hers, he longed to throw her onto the bed. He'd pulled back the covers, but never got her into it before she'd ripped his clothes off. Without breaking the kiss, she reached for his penis. Her nimble fingers worked his cock in opposing directions. Where the hell had she learned that? He'd never had a woman's touch stimulate him so ... so ... thoroughly. Yeah, she was thorough, all right. And incredible. Her capable fingers found the family jewels and kneaded them, not too roughly, yet with command. But his cock missed her touch.
As if she'd read his thoughts, she stooped to crotch level. He glanced down in time to see her tongue dart from between her lips to ... God! He squeezed his eyes shut as she licked the head of his cock. Her lips slid over his erection as she covered its full length with her mouth. Easing back, she licked her way around the end, then retraced the path in a slow, erotic caress with her tongue. Working her way back to the glans, she licked away the drop of fluid from the hole. Her talented tongue returned to his cock, circling first clockwise, then counterclockwise. Widening her mouth, she seemed about to deep-throat him... Whoa! Déjà vu! "Did I do something wrong?" Her warm breath tickled his sensitive penis. "No." God, don't stop now! "Why?" "You drew back. I thought I'd maybe hurt you." "No way." He reached for her hair, fingering the fine tresses. "You're very good at that, you know." "I ... uh, thank you." For a brief moment, he thought of the fudge pop girl and wondered how the little genie ate a Fudgsicle. He guided her head back to his cock, hoping she'd finish what she'd started. She didn't disappoint him. He should feel remorse, a little guilt, perhaps, but couldn't think why. When she took all of him inside her hot, wet mouth, he couldn't think at all. **** Jill needed another mint julep before she lost her nerve. But she couldn't have a drink, not now. Face to face with the first man's penis she'd ever gone head to head with, so to speak, she ran through everything she'd read in that article in Cosmopolitan. She'd paid special attention to the sensitive parts of a man's genitals, the spots most women overlooked. The Lone Ranger--Hey--whoever he was--seemed to think she knew what she was doing. It should have bolstered her confidence. Her legs trembled as she knelt with her head in his lap, her mouth filled with his incredibly hard, huge penis. Slowly she drew back, taking care to circle her tongue around his purplish, engorged flesh. He moaned, and his hands gripped her hair. The guy wanted more, no doubt about that She licked her lips and tasted a bit of his pinewood-scented soap, or maybe his talc. Opening her mouth wider, she covered his length, taking him deeper into her throat. Her saliva mixed with a salty fluid that beaded at the hole in his penis, what Meredith called the spit of the one-eyed snake. Meredith may have been the younger sister, but she was years ahead of Jill in experience with men. Jill had tried to learn what she could from Meredith. Shoving aside thoughts of her pretty, popular sister, Jill focused on licking up her first man. She fondled his testicles and that sensitive area between them while she flicked her tongue near the crown of his penis. Blessing that magazine article for the tips, Jill continued to apply every piece of advice about fellatio she'd ever read or heard. Her efforts paid off. Hey's breathing turned to panting, and his hands held her head in place as he took charge. Meeting his rhythm, Jill let him pump his cock into her mouth, in and out, in and out, in and out... Warm fluid spewed across her lips, tongue, and into the recesses of her mouth as Hey groaned with release. She'd not wanted to swallow, but found the prospect more appealing than she'd imagined. The salty, warm cum lacked the strong, offensive taste she'd dreaded. She took it all, swallowed, then licked
the rest from her lips. Like a cat, she used her tongue to clean up his penis, rewarded by his murmurs of approval. You're very good at that, you know. Yes, she was. She'd just given her first blow job. The thing was, she'd always assumed it was foreplay, something a guy expected. She hadn't counted on her own pleasure. She'd actually wanted to do it, wanted to drive him into ecstasy. Wanted to swallow. "God, that was incredible," he said. She couldn't believe it. She, plain Jill, had a real honest-to-God hunk, writhing with pleasure. She had the guy convinced she had sexual expertise. Wow. But what now? She'd finished him off and still hadn't lost her cherry. Would he get it up again in time for her to meet her deadline? "My turn." He pulled her down beside him on the bed. "Just relax, Genie." Relax? With the first touch of his hot mouth at her throat, her every nerve ending jumped to red alert. He took his time, his tongue and lips stroking and caressing every inch of her. Traveling in a circle around her breasts, he saved her nipples for last. By the time he took one of the stiffened crests into his mouth, Jill was ready to beg. Trembling with a need she didn't quite understand, she arched her back, trying to get closer to him, to end the mysterious ache deep inside her. How could she relax when her entire body hummed like current through power lines? While Hey's amazing mouth made love to her nipples, his skillful fingers inched their way to where no other man had touched her. He knew exactly where and how to touch, as he caressed her mons. She'd touched herself there, of course, but in a purely mechanical way. Nothing compared to the sensations elicited from the hands of a lover. She tried to focus on her mission, to remember that she'd never see him again. If only she were really the attractive woman she pretended to be, she could appreciate Hey, unlike his ex. She'd never hurt or betray him. Or cast him aside. Tonight Jill had found the one man who would set the bar for any other guy she'd bed. Too bad this wonderful man would have to remain anonymous. Chapter Four Jesus, she was sweet. Hay couldn't get enough of his sexy little genie, but he'd take all night. Even one night wouldn't be enough, though. Going down on him, she'd taken care of his immediate needs. If the rest of her was anything like her mouth, she'd be pure heaven when he finally plunged inside her. Meanwhile, he had the patience to take extra time with foreplay. Women liked that. In the dim light of a small nightlight, her blond hair shone, its fine wisps trapped by the elastic strap of her mask. He'd love to free her hair of that mask and run his hands through the strands, just to enjoy the feel of it. It smelled like the shower after his sister bathed in floral gels and herbal shampoos, then rubbed down in rose-scented lotions. But he held no sisterly thoughts now, not about his naked genie lover. He drank his fill of her as he gazed at her flawless skin and delicate curves. She had flesh on her bones
without being overweight, a far cry from those bony women who thought emaciated bodies were stylish. Ugh. A man didn't want to be poked by bones when he jumped them. Her hands, though feminine, seemed sensible and sturdy, with nails that glowed with a clear coat of polish. Her toes, however, had their nails painted a vibrant pink to match her genie suit. He wondered if she had two sides, public and private. Was her public persona symbolized by the plain buffed fingernails, while her true spirit, like the bright toenail polish, hid from the public? Could that be the reason for the mask tonight? He'd ponder that later. Now he focused on bringing that hidden spirit to life. Warm, responsive, she seemed tuned in to his touch. As if his hands and mouth knew her from years of lovemaking, he stroked and caressed every inch of her until she whimpered and begged for more. She had great tits, generous but not huge. He couldn't get enough of those, either, and nibbled his way around every centimeter of each breast. And those nipples! God's gift, to be sure, about the size and shape of two pink Hershey's kisses, if there were such a thing. Her delicate skin was smooth and tight. Young. Again, he wondered if she told the truth about her age. She seemed nervous. She seemed experienced. She acted insecure one minute, confident the next. But she was consistently sexy, and one hundred percent hot. Gazing at the triangle of hair between her legs, he drew one more conclusion. She was a natural blonde. Her breath hitched when he buried his face into her pussy. His tongue searched for her clit. Hmm. She smelled like flowers, all cuddly and soft, but feminine, too. Taking his time, he kissed her while stroking her thighs, urging them to part. The twin bed limited their space, so one of her shapely legs dangled off the side. His tongue found its target and flicked at the sensitive nub. Wriggling, she arced toward him, seeking more. All in good time, little genie. He longed to draw out her pleasure, to send her over the edge and out of her mind. He didn't question why, but he needed to excel with her. While he licked away at her clit, he slid his finger into her tight canal. "You're wet for me, baby." He withdrew his finger, slick with her juices. "See what I do to you?" "Yes," she whispered. "Don't stop." He chuckled, then resumed licking her. This time he inserted two fingers, rewarded by more whimpering and moans of pleasure. "You like that, Genie?" "Oh ... um ... yes." Three fingers. God, she was tight. But her hot canal soaked his fingers, and she was ready for him. He plunged deeper, and she cried out, "Please!" "Please, what?" She didn't answer. But she panted, and her breathing grew shallow, fast. She began to buck against his hand and mouth. Damn, she had passion and fire! As she found her rhythm and sought her release, he moved with her, deliberately rubbing his cock against the edge of the bed. The friction, as well as the taste of her honey, gave him a mega hard-on. He sucked her clit none too gently, but she didn't resist. As he fingered her and nibbled her, her panting increased until he thought she would come. And it aroused hell out of him. What a hot babe! She froze in
mid-air and gave a half moan, half gasp, then climaxed. Her release wracked her body and almost made him come again. His fingers, massaged by her tiny muscle spasms, dripped with her cum as he pulled them free. He lubricated his cock with her fluid, loving the feel of her on him. Wait a damn minute, Haywood. She's a stranger. What happened to safe sex? Since when had he lost his intelligence around a woman, any woman? "I need a condom," he muttered, then got up in search of his jeans. When he returned to her, she lay spread out exactly as he'd left her, her eyes closed and her lips curved into a smile. Those luscious lips that gave great head. She looked thoroughly satisfied, but also vulnerable. And a little silly, lying there naked but for the mask that covered half of her face. Her eyes opened behind the shiny satin mask, and her gaze took in his rock-hard erection. Wide-eyed now, she glanced at him as if to say, "Is that for me?" He rolled on the condom as she watched, which only made him more excited. He wanted to screw her brains out, and his, too. She opened for him, reached for him, inviting him to finish what they'd both started. "Oh, yes, baby." He positioned himself between her legs, then lowered his mouth to hers. He loved kissing that mouth. Her lips moved with his, opened for his tongue, and the kiss went on and on. Finally, he came up for air. "Are you ready for me, little genie?" "Your wish is my command, master," she said. After another kiss, he straightened, reached for his cock and stroked it against her opening. Slick and ready, she still seemed incredibly tight. She'd taken three of his fingers, though, so she wasn't too small for him. Or was she? He met with resistance, then shoved a little, seeking entrance. He reached between them again to position himself, then plunged. She gave a short, sharp cry. "Oh!" What the hell? He jerked back. "Jesus H. Christ, please don't tell me you're a virgin." "Please don't tell me it matters," she whispered. What the hell was he supposed to do now? He'd never taken a woman's virginity. And why would she throw herself at a stranger at a party, and insist on anonymity? What was that about, anyway? Here she lay, begging him to take her. He couldn't reject her now. His cock didn't want him to, either. "Look, I don't want to hurt you..." "You won't. You haven't yet." "We'll go slow..."
"Please, we've been going slow. I want this, okay?" "And you're still determined that my identity remain a secret?" "Yes! What's that have to do with anything?" He shrugged. "You don't want to know who your first time is with?" Her silence stretched until he wondered if she'd answer. Finally, in a soft, low voice, she said, "I don't want you to ever know me. How pathetic would it be if you ran into me one day? You'd think, there's that girl who threw herself at me because she couldn't get laid." Her words spoke volumes of her self-esteem. Yes, she did seem desperate, and she had called tonight a serious mission. He hadn't realized until now that her mission was to have her first sexual experience. Damn! He wouldn't be the one to let her down. "Okay, we'll do it your way. But I don't think you're pathetic. I think you're the sexiest woman I've ever taken to bed, and I mean that." "Thank you." But she didn't sound convinced. "Why don't you get on top? It might be easier for you, and you can set the pace." They switched positions, then she hovered over his erection, finding the best fit possible. She forced herself over his cock, taking him inside, and stilled. She collapsed onto his chest. "Does it hurt?" "It ... sort of. Give me a minute, okay?" "Take your time, babe," he said, rubbing her back and kissing her shoulder. She drew a deep breath, then pushed upright. Clutching his shoulders, she rode him, taking him deep inside her, then lifting herself until his cock nearly escaped. A quick learner, she found her rhythm and slid her incredible pussy up and down his penis, up and down, up and down. He wanted to wait, to hold out for her orgasm, but didn't know if she could come. After all, breaking the hymen had to hurt like hell. But she did come, and it seemed to take her by surprise. She stiffened and groaned as spasms milked his penis. "Oh, my God!" she whispered, then dissolved atop his chest. "Um, I need another minute." He chuckled into her hair. "Whatever you need, babe." She kissed him, then, thoroughly. "Would you like to be on top now?" "Sure." With a few awkward moves, they managed to switch positions on the twin bed. Then he pumped her good, bringing her to another orgasm. God, she was one responsive woman. Maybe virgins were underrated. She'd ignored the initial pain and managed to climax twice. Was he that good, or she that hot? Or they were good together. Damn good. Little time passed before her pants of pleasure triggered his own climax, and he emptied into the condom. As he inhaled her wonderful scent mixed with the musky odor of sex, he closed his eyes in astonishment.
He'd made passionate love with a woman, an incredibly sexy young woman, and not once thought about Shelby. As a matter of fact, Shelby could learn a thing or two from this novice. He rolled to the side, pulling her into his arms. "For a first-timer, you sure are amazing." "I, um, studied up on the subject." "Well, you sure as hell aced your finals, sweetheart." He held her against him and smiled. She fit perfectly in his arms. "Are you all right?" "Of course." "I mean ... your first time. Doesn't it hurt?" "It's tender. I'm sure I won't go horseback riding in the morning or anything." He wanted to ask if she rode, but she wouldn't like that. She didn't want them to know each other. But he wanted to know her. Two people this hot together... Well, it wasn't an everyday thing. He couldn't remember Shelby Simpson's face at the moment, and he'd thought himself in love with her. Couldn't his little genie see that the sex between them was extraordinary? "We're good together, you know that?" She didn't answer, but made a noncommittal hum. "Aren't you the least bit curious about us?" "What do you mean?" "I mean, shouldn't we explore this? See where it goes? We might be soul mates and not know it." "You mean ... um, see each other again? Reveal ourselves?" "Why not?" The genie's emotional withdrawal was swift and palpable. "Um, what time is it?" "Eleven. See the digital alarm?" She turned her head to the bookcase and nodded. "Good. I made it." "Your mission?" She sat up in bed, away from his embrace. "My deadline. I didn't want to be a twenty-two-year-old virgin." She couldn't have made him feel more used if she'd tried. "Well, glad I could be of service," he said, with more venom than he'd intended. But damn it, this had been the best sex of his life and it meant nothing to her. Less than nothing. She didn't even want to know who he was. He could find out who she was, couldn't he? He had her date of birth. And she had to be on Grandy's guest list. He'd learn her identity, whether she wanted him to or not. He wouldn't pursue her. But he'd find out what drove a young woman to such desperate lengths. He'd be damned, though, if she'd ever know. He didn't need another woman disposing of him like a used condom.
Chapter Five Stupid, stupid, stupid! She'd become emotionally involved, despite her best efforts. He had her fantasizing about waking up together in the morning. Lots of mornings. As many mornings as he wanted. How had she let this happen? Was it the booze? Inexperience? Jill didn't think it was either. She had naively, foolishly fallen hard for the Lone Ranger, or Hey You, or whoever he was. He said they were good together, but was that just a line? She had too little experience to trust her instincts. He just wanted more sex, then he'd dump her. In the dark of night behind the cover of masks, he'd not seen her as she was by day, the mousy librarian. She had to get out of there. Now. Ignoring the mess between her legs, she pulled up her genie trousers. "I'm going to freeze outside." From behind her, the bed squeaked, then Hey's feet hit the floor. "I'll get you something to wear over that." "I can't take any of the Haywoods' clothes!" She shoved her boobs into the halter top of her costume. He pulled out a drawer from the bureau. "They won't mind if you borrow a sweatshirt. Just return it." "Yeah, right. And how do I explain borrowing it?" Hi. I want to return this garment I borrowed without your permission while I had wild sex in one of your bedrooms. "Mail it with no return address. You're good with anonymity." He pitched a hooded sweatshirt at her. What was his problem? He certainly sounded surly ... almost hostile. What difference did it make? She'd never see him again, not that she'd know it, anyway. She shrugged into the huge sweatshirt jacket, the hem of which brushed her thighs. Her hands shook too much for her to connect the pull on the zipper. "Damn it!" "Here. Let me get that." He loomed over her wearing nothing but his black mask, giving her a long, uninterrupted view of his powerful muscles. The guy obviously pumped iron. Her gaze slid lower, where his penis hovered. Still swollen, his cock tempted her, even at half-mast. She longed to taste him one more time, but she couldn't risk it. Too much intimacy already threatened her vow to have sex incognito. He zipped up the sweat jacket to her throat, then gazed at her, as if wanting to kiss her. But he didn't kiss her, just released his hold on the garment and stepped back. "Thank you," she murmured. "I ... I'd better go now." "Are you sure you're sober enough to drive home? I could find you some coffee." Coffee sounded great, but she couldn't trust herself another minute in his presence. She feared any moment she'd blurt, "I'm Jill Breckinridge, and I think I love you." Boy, would that send the poor guy running! "No, thanks." She turned toward the door. "Let me sneak out alone, then you wait to sneak downstairs, all right?" "Makes sense, considering your shameful behavior."
Jill gasped. He may as well have slapped her across the face. "What? What makes my behavior any more shameful than yours?" "I'm not the one ashamed of what we did. Apparently, you are." Ashamed? "You don't know me. How can you judge me?" "Because you don't want me to know you. You don't want to know me. You've put this on the same level as a trick, and I'm your john." "So that makes me a whore." "You said it. I didn't." Why was he so angry? Who was he to call her a whore? He'd forget all about her as soon as she left, anyway. She was the one who stood to lose if she stayed another second. After a quick reconnaissance, she slipped down the stairs and dashed across the lawn to where she'd parked the Pontiac, praying Hey You didn't see her drive away. Ashamed, my ass. She had no remorse about losing her virginity to the hunky Lone Ranger. She just wanted to avoid the humiliation that would follow if he knew her. So why did she feel the sting of tears pricking her eyes? **** "Happy Birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday my sister, happy birthday to you." Meredith's off-key singing dragged Jill from the depths of slumber. "Thanks," she murmured, then yawned. "What time is it?" "Rise and shine. It's half past nine." "You should write greeting cards," Jill muttered, throwing back the comforter. Meredith hoisted a tray so that its top was out of Jill's view. "Stay put. I'm serving you breakfast in bed." Say what? Meredith's idea of breakfast was a can of Slim-Fast. As Jill scooted up in her twin bed, Meredith placed the tray in her lap, then lifted the cover. "An omelet? With fresh sliced tomatoes? My, my!" "And coffee, of course." Meredith hurried to the hall, returning with a white carafe and a mug. "Here you go." "Thanks." Jill gulped half the cup. Maybe it'd ease the dull ache in her head from too much whiskey. It hadn't been the number of drinks so much as she just wasn't used to liquor. Over the mug's rim, she studied Meredith. "You cooked all this?" "Sure. My good intentions made up for lack of experience." Like her own performance last night, Jill mused. "Figures. Whatever you do, you do it perfectly." Jill took in Meredith's petite body, her thick mane of light blond hair, the blue eyes with twice the lashes that rimmed her own. Jill's mouth was too big, her skin too freckled. It was as if Jill was God's first attempt, and Meredith was His final, improved version. It was more than their looks. Meredith had more
poise, more fashion sense. She'd skipped over the so-called awkward phase all kids suffered as they grew into their adult bodies. Jill loved Meredith, and would've resented her if Meredith hadn't been so loyal and devoted. "Don't begrudge me, Jill. I wouldn't be half of who I am if I didn't have such a great role model in my big sister." "Please. Can't you refer to me as your older sister instead of your big one?" "Jeez, you're grumpy this morning! Eat. Maybe it'll improve your mood."Meredith made herself at home on the edge of Jill's bed. Grumpy? Admittedly, she was out of sorts. She'd achieved her goal. She'd lost her virginity, and in a grand way. She should've been ecstatic. "You're right. Thanks for the birthday breakfast. That was sweet of you." She speared a slice of tomato, then added a piece of the omelet to her fork. "Okay, so spill. What happened? I tried to keep an eye on you, you know, but lost track after you stomped away from the cowboy in white and the pirate with Roman hands and Russian fingers." "What?! You were there?" Meredith grinned. "Danny and I were Dorothy and the cowardly lion. We doubled with Heather and Josh..." "...who were the tin man and the scarecrow. Why didn't you say something?" "I didn't want you to know we were there. I was afraid it would spook you." It might have at that, but Jill wasn't about to admit it. Meredith got too much pleasure from being right all the time. "Well, mission accomplished, and that's all you need to know." "Not!" She crossed her arms across her perfect boobs and tossed her perfect hair. "After all my coaching, you won't even share the results with me? Some sister." "All right. It was the cowboy in white. The guy who looked like Andy Garcia in a Lone Ranger mask." "All right!" Meredith high-fived her. "You go, girl! But you're blushing. Must have been some night." Jill enjoyed her omelet and let the suspense build. In truth, she wasn't sure what to reveal. Stupid, naïve, she'd thrown herself at a guy, body and heart? She couldn't keep a lot from her sister, but how much could she tell her about the Lone Ranger/Hey You? "So? How was it? Did he get you off? I hope so, but it's not easy the first time, you know..." Her mouth full of omelet, Jill held up three fingers and smiled. A mixture of pride and awe filled her at the memory. "Three? That's unbelievable. Fantastic." Jill swallowed. "Yes, it was better than I'd expected." That was an understatement, but she didn't want to elaborate, not even to Meredith. For some reason, she wanted to keep it private. For just an anonymous lay, the experience held a very special place in her heart. "Wow, he must be some guy."
Jill shrugged, then finished her coffee. "I guess so, I mean, it's not like I can make comparisons." "You may not want to. Three orgasms your first time is not normal, Jill. It's one for the record books. I mean, usually there's pain and blood, and you're tense..." "There was pain and blood. But he was patient, attentive, and ... and perfect." She sighed. God, he was wonderful, and she'd run out on him. But what choice had she? He wasn't the kind of guy to be attracted to her, regardless of how hard she tried to reinvent herself. "Well, you've got to see him again. Any guy who can..." "No way. I don't even know his name." "Are you crazy?" Enough. All the doubts and tension from last night welled up inside of her, and she couldn't think. Not with Meredith there. Jill shoved the breakfast tray at her. "I need to use the bathroom. Thanks for breakfast." "But..." She nudged Meredith toward the hall. Practically slamming the bedroom door behind her, Jill let out a deep, shuddering breath. Tears threatened, but she blinked them back, swallowing the painful lump lodged in her throat. She'd had her first intimate experience with a man, a very hot guy with a surprising, tender side. And she'd seen to it that she'd never see him again. What was the matter with her? Of course, he thought she was no better than a whore. Worse, really, since she hadn't even been paid. Or had that been her fault for insisting they keep their identities secret? Damn. How could she study for finals today with her emotions so out of whack? Yes, her first sexual experience had been unbelievable. Extraordinary. Beyond her wildest dreams. And after, when he'd held her and treated her with tenderness and concern, she almost believed herself in love with the guy. No doubt he would be the benchmark, the standard by which any future lover would be measured. Was she nuts? She couldn't even think about another lover. Hey's scent stayed with her, the memory of his skillful kisses and exciting hands preoccupied her all day. She couldn't study or enjoy her birthday dinner with the family because she didn't want to abandon the memory of making love with him. **** Monday, Hay hurried up the steps and inside the old building that housed the main public library. Pausing inside the huge lobby, his eyes adjusted to the artificial light. The library was his last resort. He'd run out of ideas. Hell, he hadn't had an idea to start with. His mind had been on something else ... someone else. He needed to focus on business or he wouldn't have a business on which to focus. Without wasting a lot of time searching through floors of books, he headed toward the large desk. A petite young blonde, her hair pulled into a severe knot, gazed up at him through large, thick lenses that magnified her blue eyes. Tiny freckles sprinkled her nose. Not bad looking, although nothing like his genie. Stop that. She wasn't his genie. He didn't even know who she was or if he'd find her again. He hadn't had time yet to check out Grandy's guest list.
The woman blinked behind the tortoiseshell frames. "May I help you?" "I hope so. Where would I find books about plays on words, slogans, catchy mottoes..." She tapped her chin with her forefinger, but his gaze strayed to her mouth. Void of lipstick, she had perfectly sculpted lips that would've been sexy on anyone else. Still, that mouth drew him, almost as if he should recognize the woman just from staring at it. "I'd point you to the reference room, but it might help if you told me more about your research." Hay shrugged, tugging his gaze back to her magnified eyes. "I'm in advertising and I'm having a dry spell." She smiled, then glanced at her watch. "I'm good with words. Maybe I can help. I'm due for a break." He wasn't about to turn down assistance. "I'd appreciate it." "All right, let me tell Tracy." A few minutes later, he followed the blonde to the reference room. Her shapeless brown dress brushed her ankles and hid most of her body, so there was little to enjoy about the view. She stopped beside a vacant table. "Let me grab a thesaurus." He slid his legal pad onto the table's surface, and whipped out his pen. A minute later, she returned with a thick collegiate dictionary and a thesaurus, stacking both on the table. He had those at the office. How could they help him here? "You need a slogan?" she asked. "What's the business?" "A plumbing contractor. A big plumbing contractor." "Is it advertising for TV and radio?" Hay suppressed a chuckle. "Nothing like that. Just stationery, mostly. But they want something they can use in their Yellow Page ad, too." "How about a poker hand, a royal flush? Then you could say 'John Doe's Plumbing, where a royal flush beats a full house every time.'" "Cute." He matched the low volume of her voice in deference to others working in the room. She shrugged. "Not original, but it's not something I've seen locally." He scribbled down the idea, but without enthusiasm. "This is a large business. They're beyond fixing a stopped-up toilet." "Tell me more about what this company does." "They installed all the plumbing in that new shopping development east of town." "So we're talking mega-dollars in business." He nodded. "Let me think..."
"Hey, this is your break. I don't mean to monopolize your..." "Pipe dreams!" She grinned, her eyes shining behind the thick lenses. "'We make pipe dreams come true,' or 'The answer to your pipe dreams.'" What a bright, intelligent young lady. "Perfect." She shrugged again. "Well, you may want to refine it a bit. It's just an idea." "Don't be modest. It's brilliant." She scooted from the chair. "I better get back to work." "Wait." He dug out one of his business cards from his wallet. "If you're interested, I could use some freelance help. What's your name?" "Jill Breckinridge. But I'm just a college student." "Take my card. I'd like to hear from you." She accepted the business card, a fine embossed sample of the business stationery he produced and sold, and read aloud, "King Remembrance Advertising, Haywood 'Hay' King..." She grabbed the table as if she might collapse, then straightened. "Excuse me." She fled the reference room, her face crimson. "Wait!" he called after her, to no avail. What in hell was wrong with her? Cramming his wallet into the back pocket of his slacks, he gathered his legal pad and retraced the path to the information desk. An attractive African-American woman met him at the counter and offered to help. "I need to see Jill Breckinridge, please." "I'm sorry, sir. She left for the day." "But she was just here." The woman shrugged. "She sometimes has bad migraines. Guess she had another attack." Curious. She'd been stricken as she'd read his business card? How odd. He couldn't worry about what had upset the young woman, if indeed she'd been upset. He had to get back to his office and work on pipe dreams. He didn't want to lose this client. Later he'd worry about how to thank Jill Breckinridge. **** Oh. My. God. Trembling, Jill raced to the basement and ducked into the ladies room. Thankfully, Tracy hadn't questioned her when Jill told her to tell Hay she'd left work for the day. "I'll explain later," Jill promised, as she ducked behind the rows of periodicals and made her escape. "Remember, no names." "Okay, Genie. We'll play it your way. Just call me Hay." "Hay?"
"It's short for "Hey, You!" He'd cheated, giving her his real name from the start. But she hadn't told him hers. How had he found her? Jill didn't believe in coincidence. The one and only man she'd made love with--correction: had sex with, anonymously--wouldn't just happen to stroll into her library and approach her desk. Those things didn't happen, not to Jill Breckinridge. She splashed cold water into her face, forgetting she wore glasses. Inadequate sleep had left her eyes too scratchy for her contacts. "Damn it to hell," she muttered, as she yanked paper towels to dry the lenses. Cleaning the glasses calmed her. Her head cleared, and breathing slowed. Maybe Hay's appearance really was coincidence. After all, why would he seek her out? When she wouldn't agree to see him again, he'd acted happy to be rid of her. He'd hurt her, yet acted the role of the wounded. Had she blown it, running scared from the reference room? If his appearance had truly been coincidental, would he now suspect that she'd been the genie who'd thrown herself at him Saturday night? But he'd been the one to want to explore their physical attraction, to see where it led, which would be nowhere, once he caught sight of the real Jill. The old and new Jills battled, pulling her in opposing directions. She yearned for a chance with a guy like Hay. She scoffed at the idea that he'd ever find her anything but dull. The old Jill wanted to put the dishwater back into her blond hair and leave town. The new Jill wanted to risk seeing Hay again. She groaned. She'd have to face him again, regardless. He either knew exactly who she was, or he'd been sincere with his offer of freelance work. If Jill were brave and confident like Meredith, she'd brazen it out. Call King Remembrance Advertising and discuss the freelance job offer. Where was her resolve? She'd already met her goal. She could be the new Jill--savvy, sophisticated. Experienced. As soon as she regained her composure, she'd give Hay a call. Whether or not he'd recognized her, he hadn't admitted it. She'd play his game, even though for her the stakes were high. She ignored the old Jill's voice, reminding her that she wanted her first sexual encounter to be anonymous. What did she hope to gain by crossing paths with Hay King again? "Shut up," she grumbled to her image in the mirror. That was one question she wasn't prepared to answer. Chapter Six Tuesday morning, Hay worked on variations of graphics to go with the pipe dreams theme. He'd planned to return to the library, to personally thank Jill Breckinridge for her inspired suggestion, but he'd been too involved in the project. Working with his artist's software, he created a border made of pipes and fittings. He'd finally settled on " Pipe Dreams With Fitting Ends." The client loved it, and had his attorneys working on registering a trademark for the slogan. Hay didn't know if they'd succeed, but he'd heard of other businesses who'd registered slogans, like AOL and "You've Got Mail.7" He'd leave law to lawyers, like his sister Paige. Creating the promotional product was Hay's domain. He finished the design for the memo pads, then adapted it for the business cards. As he saved the file, his phone rang.
"Mr. King, this is Jill Breckinridge." Maybe his emotions were out of whack from his escapade with the genie, or maybe he'd finally gotten over Shelby and was ready to move on, but something about Jill's voice jolted him with pleasure. "I'm glad you called," he said, because it was true. "Are you feeling better?" "I'm fine, thanks. I wasn't sure how serious you were about the job offer." "I can't really offer you a steady, permanent position, but..." "Why is that, exactly?" Huh? He hadn't expected the question. "What do you mean?" "Why isn't business good? Maybe you do need my help." Her confidence surprised him. "We should meet. I don't usually conduct interviews by phone." Of course, he didn't usually conduct interviews, period, but she didn't know that. Maybe she thought he was a large firm. "I guess that would be all right. When and where?" "How about a late lunch?" "Now?" Her high-pitched voice contradicted her earlier confident tone. "Sure, unless you have to work." "I work later this evening. I can meet for lunch." "Where?" She'd probably feel more comfortable on her own turf. "The Diary Queen suit you?" "Which one?" he asked. They worked out the logistics then ended the call. Hay couldn't explain why, but he looked forward to seeing Jill Breckinridge again. She was nothing like Genie, yet something about her--her intelligence, perhaps--spoke to him. Or maybe it was that sexy contralto voice, so at odds with her prim librarian image. And so like Genie's. Could Jill be his mysterious lover? She certainly had the right hair color, but nothing else matched. Somehow he couldn't imagine modest, prim Jill half-naked in a genie outfit. He dismissed the idea, although it spoke volumes about his preoccupation with her. He still intended to find out her true identity. He backed up his work, hibernated his monitor, then headed toward the same DQ where he'd been turned on by the fudge pop girl. The fudge pop girl? Damn. Could it be? The more he considered the possibility, the more it made sense. Jill Breckinridge must be his fudge pop licker, with the wet dreams mouth. That would explain why she'd seemed familiar to him, although they'd never met. Hadn't he fixated on her mouth? Hadn't she even been in his thoughts while the genie gave him the blow job of his life?
**** Jill walked into the Dairy Queen with the poise of a confident Meredith, wearing a belted navy jumper over a short-sleeved T-shirt. Meredith had hemmed the jumper in an eleventh-hour wardrobe makeover so Jill could "flash him some leg." "Someday you'll find your own style, Jill," Meredith had said around a mouthful of straight pins. "The librarian look is okay, if you'll update it. You have a nice shape. Stop hiding it under dowdy clothes. And for God's sake, wear your contacts." The new Jill would do just that, except for the contacts. She hid behind her glasses as she'd hid behind the domino mask. As for clothes, she would revamp what she could and shop for what she couldn't. This extra job freelancing would help her afford a wardrobe update, she hoped. Unless, of course, Hay was just toying with her. He waited for her at a table near the front, finger-combing his dark brown hair. Judging from the smile on his gorgeous face, he was delighted to see her. His dark gaze made a quick sweep of her dress, and his eyes lit with approval. "Let's order first, all right?" She preceded him to the counter, where they stood in a short line. Her stomach tightening into a quivering lump, she knew she couldn't eat. But she'd suggested the place so she needed to order something. She just wouldn't eat and hope Hay didn't notice. She needed all her nerves focused on dealing with him, not on digesting food. He crowded beside her when it was their turn at the window. "We're together." If only that were true. Shoving aside the wistful thought, she ordered a chicken sandwich and diet cola. Moving to the next window, they waited for their food orders. "Where did you say you were a student?" he asked. She hadn't. "I'm finishing up my B.A. at U. of L." "I'm a U. of K. alum, myself. Is that going to be a problem for us?" Her pulse skittered. "Uh, what, um, do you mean?" He grinned. "Can a Louisville Cardinal work for a Kentucky Wildcat?" Relief swept through her, but with a touch of caution. Did he know she was the genie at the party, or was he on the level? "I suppose we can work together in spite of our differences." A laugh rumbled from his chest, the same rumble she'd felt against his naked chest three nights earlier. Oh, dear, she had to stop thinking about that, or she'd blow everything. Right now, though, she wouldn't mind blowing him. Get a grip, Jill! They carried their plastic trays to one of the few vacant tables. Jill unwrapped her sandwich and held it, but didn't try to take a bite. She sought eye contact, held it, then boldly asked, "What exactly do you want from me?" The question seemed to take him aback. Either he played excellent poker, or her wording genuinely puzzled him. "As a freelancer?" Okay, whatever. She nodded.
"Ideas, like the pipe dreams. That was great, by the way. I've already worked out a line of remembrance advertising around it and the client is pleased." She shrugged, but didn't avert her gaze. "What else?" "Can you work a computer? Graphics programs?" "I know some. I can learn whatever you want me to..." She dropped her gaze to the uneaten sandwich she gripped. He'd already taught her plenty and had said she'd aced her finals. Heat suffused her body like a fever, and the telltale flush crept over her skin. How in blazes could she sit here pretending she didn't know who he was, what he'd been to her? She couldn't pull this act off. Why had she thought she could? Fight or flight battled within her. If she ran again as she had from the library, he would think she was a hysterical female, whether or not he knew her. And if he truly didn't recognize her as the desperate virgin who'd flung herself at him Saturday night, his suspicions might be aroused by her dramatics. She'd stand her ground. She had to. "Are you all right, Miss Breckinridge?" "Call me Jill, please." She mustered up a smile. "Yes, fine." "I was concerned when I heard you had a migraine. I hope that doesn't happen often." Migraine? Tracy must have handed him that story. Jill was a terrible liar, so she stuck close to the truth. "Uh, no. In fact, I'd never had one before. I'm over it, now." He nodded. "I hope you'll call me 'Hay.'" "Okay, Genie. We'll play it your way. Just call me Hay." She ignored the memory. She had to, or she'd never get through this interview or land the job. Could she work around him without revealing herself? Instinct told her he was on the level, not that she could trust her instinct. What was she thinking? That he'd fall in love with her? Yeah, right. At some point, however, she'd made the decision to stick it out. "Deal." "Mind if I interview you while we eat?" "No problem." "Okay, tell me a little about yourself." His mouth--the one that had covered every inch of her body and given her mind-blowing pleasure--closed over his hamburger. She dragged her gaze back to his eyes. "I'm about to graduate with a degree in English, and I'll start work on my Master's in the fall. I've worked on the school paper and held down a job at the public library for the past three years." He swallowed, then sipped a drink of his soda. "Did you get involved in ad layout with the newspaper?" "Yes, but it was simple, word-processing stuff." "Why English?" She shrugged as she swallowed a drink of her own soft drink. "Originally, I planned to go to law school.
Along the way I lost interest in law and discovered I love literature. I want to teach it." "With your creativity, you could pursue a commercial field, like advertising." "You're basing this on 'pipe dreams?' What if that's a fluke?" "Have you done anything like that before? Come up with a slogan or theme?" "Sure, at school. I named my aunt's business. She opened a bridal shop in the Galleria and named it The Bridal Path at my suggestion. You know, Kentucky, horses..." "See? You're a natural with this stuff. I have another question. When you called and I said I couldn't offer you a permanent position, what did you mean when you said I needed help?" She forgot to act like Meredith. She also forgot that this man had taken her virginity. She even forgot she wanted a job from him. She was Jill now, her normal personality, in her element playing with words, brainstorming with a colleague. "Because remembrance advertising is big. It's affordable for small businesses that can't have a lot of expense in their budgets for advertising. It's also something large businesses don't want to waste time with in-house and will gladly hire out. There's only so much folks can do with their own computers and ink-jet printers. "My mom is involved in several fund-raising projects. They go outside for their promotional needs because, in the long run, it's more economical than wasting a volunteer's valuable time. Mom says when you factor in color ink cartridges, special paper and design time and effort, not to mention time-consuming reproduction jobs, you're dollars ahead using an outside vendor." "I'm impressed." His eyes widened with something. Respect? Admiration? Or perhaps just surprise. "I'll bet you help your mom with her campaign slogans, too." "Some." She shrugged, but warmed with pleasure by his appraisal. "Obviously, I need to check into the non-profit markets. Would you consider starting with me as a part-time temp? If together we can grow the business, I would give you a permanent job as soon as I can." "For now, I can temp part-time. I haven't ruled out teaching, but I would like to try my hand as your apprentice. This will be my first time to get paid for thinking up a clever use of words." "Great! Let me give you an assignment. As far as I'm concerned, you're on the payroll now." "Okay, who's your client?" "Allen's Tree Service, in Crestwood. He does tree trimming, and stump and tree removal. He also sells and delivers firewood." "Lots of possibilities. Tree service with all the trimmings. Um... No Trees Stump Allen's. Or what about, Allen Delivereth and Allen Taketh Away?" She giggled. "Sorry. Just being silly." Hay wasn't laughing. "But those are just off the top of your head. For a novice at this, you sure are amazing." For a first-timer, you sure are amazing.
She lowered her uneaten sandwich to its wrapper as reality crashed in. No longer the colleague, Hay King was again her mysterious first lover. He couldn't know she was the genie from the party. Surely not. Still, doubts lingered. If he didn't know, she had to be sure he never found out. If he did, her new career at King Remembrance Advertising would be toast. Who was she kidding? Despite all her worries and insecurities, she harbored a secret fantasy that Haywood King, hunk extraordinaire, would fall in love with her. Foolish, unrealistic, still the flicker of hope persisted. She'd do well to keep herself grounded in reality and stick to business. That's what the old Jill would do. The new Jill, however, grew increasingly more difficult to subdue. Chapter Seven Hay's enthusiasm for his budding firm had stalled until he'd met Jill Breckinridge. He'd lost interest in his business and everything else after Shelby's defection. Now excitement and plans buzzed through his brain. He couldn't wait to get back to his office and set up a desk for Jill. Wouldn't it be great if she became a permanent member of his team? He could expand, actually make some money at this venture. The first order of business when he returned, though, was to call Grandy. Business had a priority, but now he needed to attend to that little matter of tracking down the heartless little genie who'd used him and discarded him like a disposable battery. He'd compared her to a prostitute when in fact he was the one who'd been used. And without so much as a thank you. He had no plans to confront her. He just needed to know her identity, to know who would be so willing to give her virginity to a stranger. And why. "Grandy, it's Hay." "Of course it is. How are you, baby?" "Great. I have a quick question for you. Do you have the copy of your guest list on which Giles marked off the invitees as they arrived at your party Saturday night? I'm trying to identify one of them." "It's here. Who's the girl?" Hay chuckled. "I didn't say it was, Grandy, but, well, it's the blonde dressed like a genie out of A Thousand And One Arabian Nights. Do you know who that was?" "Oh, I remember her. I'm guessing that was Meredith, but let me see if she's on the list. I always invite the Breckinridges, you know." "Right." Bentley Breckinridge had been his grandparents' attorney, before he retired. Now his son, Bentley, Junior, ran the firm. But Hay had met the son once, years ago, and could recall nothing about his family. Meredith Breckinridge? Could that be the name of his genie? "Baby, both the Breckinridge daughters were here, but not Bent or Donna." "Both daughters? One's named Meredith. Who's the other daughter?" "Jillian. But if either wore that genie costume, it had to be Meredith. Jillian is the plainer of the two. Oh, dear, that's not what I meant. Jillian is more conservative. Sedate." "Jillian Breckinridge? Does she go by Jill? Work as a librarian?"
"I'm not sure. Why?" "Well, I just hired a Jill Breckinridge. She's very bright, good with advertising slogans. I didn't realize you knew her family." "But of course I know the family. Jillian was Bentley's first grandchild, did you know that? She's named after him, Jillian Bentley Breckinridge. I rather thought Bentley would be a trendy name for a girl, but I gather they were holding out for a son they could name the Third. Pity they had only the two daughters." "About how old is Jill?" "You hired her and didn't get her information for payroll?" "Hey, I just interviewed her today! I'll get all that tomorrow. Never mind." Grandy interrupted, "She'd be in her early twenties. Meredith was born less than a year later. They're almost like twins, you know, both blue-eyed blondes, except they have very different personalities." "How so?" "I'm afraid Meredith is more colorful ... more worldly." The way Grandy said the word, she might as well have said promiscuous. "Beautiful child, really, and always has a beau or two. I hear she's engaged to some loser, but I don't recall the name. Poor Jillian always stayed in her shadow, I'm afraid." "Thanks, Grandy. Great party, by the way." His hand shook as he placed the phone back on its cradle. Meredith Breckinridge. Could she be his genie? She'd been beautiful but hardly worldly. He knew firsthand she was a virgin, too, and she hadn't worn an engagement ring. Perhaps she needed to try out another man before settling down to marriage. The thought depressed him more than it should, and only reinforced his feelings of debasement. If only she knew he'd just hired her older sister. He would be seeing his genie again, like it or not. **** The next two weeks passed quickly for Jill. She managed to study for her exams, although it was a struggle. Her mind wanted to dwell on Hay King. She'd been working with him two afternoons a week, although her work hours would increase after graduation. She'd begun to relax around him, as much as possible considering her attraction to the man. As her boss, he was a complete professional and a gentleman. At no time did he behave as if he remembered her as the genie from the costume party. She'd quickly learned how he knew his way around the Haywood house. He was Beverly Haywood's grandson. That explained a lot. She hadn't yet returned the borrowed sweatshirt, but knew she must. She had hung on to it at first, thinking she would confront him with it when she exposed his charade. But he'd been sincere in his job offer, so there was no charade, except on her part. Furthermore, she discovered she loved remembrance advertising. For the first time in her life, she'd found work at which she excelled. Her corny sense of humor and puns had made her the brunt of much derision most of her life. Now she'd found her niche, something all her own that Meredith didn't do better. Her growing confidence spilled over into her appearance. With Meredith's help, she'd updated her wardrobe in her own style, which she called "sensible feminine." Meredith called it a transition from "librarian spinster" to "sexy student." Meredith gave her a manicure, and her short, sensible nails now sported a pearl lacquer. Jill renewed the highlights in her hair and stopped pulling it back in a chignon. She also tried a little eyebrow pencil and lip gloss. Next payday she planned to invest in a good tube of mascara.
She didn't deny to herself that she hoped Hay would notice her. She still fantasized about him, especially after she went to bed each night. Although he was out of her league, she couldn't help it. The more she knew him, the more she yearned for him. Although she didn't fight her feelings, she also kept them private. He'd never know she was the genie who not only gave him her virginity, but her heart. The old Jill knew romance with Hay was out of the question, so she concentrated on gaining his professional respect. She labored over each client's campaign he assigned her, and glowed with pride when she impressed him with her work. Maybe it wasn't a happily ever after love, but it would have to suffice. The new Jill said, "Bloody hell! Why can't this camaraderie develop into romance?" Jill's two personas battled until a new Jill emerged, a blend of confidence and vulnerability, a woman she liked. A woman she longed would attract Hay. **** "Sunday's the big day, huh?" Hay perched atop the corner of Jill's desk clutching a square white envelope he'd found in his in-box. She glanced up from her computer terminal. He was certainly getting his wages' worth from her. She focused on each assignment until finished to her satisfaction. And her inner work standards were higher than most. Something else he noticed during the past two weeks was the attractive woman beneath the staid librarian exterior. With her hair brushing her shoulders instead of pulled back in a severe bun, Jill looked like a vibrant young woman. She'd also stopped wearing those long, shapeless dresses. With legs like hers, he couldn't imagine her wanting to hide them. Was his growing attraction to her related to his bedding her sister? He couldn't ignore the similarities. Jill had the fudge pop mouth that could suck the chrome off a trailer hitch, although she seemed oblivious to her sensuality. Or was he attracted to her intelligent mind? She seemed mature for her twenty-two years, and worked with him in perfect sync. They thought alike, they could finish each other's sentences, as if they'd worked together two years instead of two weeks. "Sorry. What was that?" she asked. He held up the envelope. "Your graduation from U. of L. It's Sunday." "Yes." "Thanks for inviting me, and to the party, too." "It's just a family thing. Don't feel obligated..." "I wouldn't miss it. I look forward to meeting your family." Especially your sister, Meredith. "See you Sunday, then." She blinked her huge blue eyes, magnified by the lenses, and his heart stopped. Those eyes. How had he missed it? She had Genie's eyes. He'd never forget them gazing at him from behind the satin mask. But Grandy had said she and Meredith were practically twins. Those could have been Meredith's awesome baby blues. If only he knew Meredith's birthday. Was it early May? Which reminded him he had yet to find out Jill's date of birth. "I keep forgetting to have you fill out the withholding forms for taxes." Having had no previous employees, Hay had procrastinated on completing the paperwork.
She averted her gaze. "I thought I was freelance, like a contract employee. I'll be responsible for my own taxes." "Okay, but I'll still need your information to report your income." She shrugged, but already seemed lost in the work on her computer screen. "Of course. I'll fill out whatever forms. Just leave them in my in-box." He scooted off the desk and turned to leave. "I'll let you get back to the horse van guy." "Wilson's? Let me show you what I have so far--see if you think this will work." Circling behind her chair so he could see her computer screen, he leaned over and caught the familiar floral scent that rushed him with memories of hot sex in his room at Grandy's. Jill and her sister obviously used the same brand of shampoo. "What's this?" She scrolled to the top of the page, to a graphic of two horses, their heads stuck out the back of a long horse trailer, along with the name of the company. "Their business is to safely transport race horses, right?" "Yeah, from Keeneland to Churchill Downs, then to Ellis Park and back." "Race tracks." She scrolled to the bottom of the screen. "Okay, how's this? Wilson's Van Lines keeps you on the right track." She turned to face him, her luscious mouth inches from him. What would she do if he closed the distance and tasted those lips? She shrank back as if her thoughts mirrored his. He nodded toward the screen. "I like it. Let's see what Mr. Wilson thinks." Facing her terminal again, she said, "I have some back up ideas in case he doesn't. They're variations of this, like 'always on track.'" "You got right on this. I gave you Wilson's this morning." "I didn't want to horse around," she said, flashing him a grin. Jill was downright cute, and clever, too. Why had he thought her plain? Grandy said she'd been at the party, too. Wonder what costume she wore? Would she be as irresistibly sexy as her sister in that genie outfit? But sensible, modest Jill had probably dressed as Darth Vader. **** Sunday afternoon, the family gathered in the dining room of the Breckinridge home to toast Jill. As soon as her dad had filled the champagne flutes and raised his in a toast, everyone congratulated her. Soon they drifted into different rooms of the house, the men finding their way to the den to watch baseball, the women cutting a cake in the kitchen. Jill would've felt let down by the anticlimax if not for the presence of her handsome boss. Not even Meredith knew that Hay King was the guy who'd taken her virginity, not even Hay ... she hoped. "Your boss is strange," Meredith said, when they had a moment alone. She handed Jill a plate with a serving of cake. Jill shook her head no. She had managed to trim a few pounds and didn't want to undo her progress. "What do you mean strange?"
"He's been giving me looks, you know? I mean, I'm here with Danny. I'm not on the make." Jill's stomach dropped. What had she expected? Once he met her gorgeous sister, he couldn't possibly find Jill attractive. The backs of her eyes burned, but she valiantly defeated the tears. "He's flirting with you?" "On the contrary. He's shooting daggers at me, like I've angered him in some way. I don't think I've even met the guy before, although Dad's their family lawyer." Daggers? "You're right, that is strange. Are you sure?" Meredith shrugged. "He was staring right at me." Jill snorted. "More than likely, he's mad because you're with Danny and not available." Another possibility crept into Jill's mind, a possibility so awful she nearly puked her champagne. Meredith grabbed her shoulders and peered at her, her eyes filled with alarm. "Jilly? Holy shit, what's wrong? You're white as snow!" "Oh, God, get me outside. Quick." She needed fresh air. She needed to dissolve into the asphalt driveway. She needed to move to another state. Meredith led her outside, back toward the large building that housed their father's classic auto collection. "What's wrong? Tell me right now!" Bending at the waist, Jill gulped in air, taking in the scent of the colorful tulips and jonquils in her mother's garden--the sickening sweet fragrance of her lilac bush. She finally caught her breath. Calmer now, she realized that she owed Meredith an explanation. Where did she begin? "He ... he thinks it's you." "What are you talking about?" Meredith's eyes widened. "Oh, no. Don't tell me. Haywood King? He got your cherry and made you come three times?" "I wasn't going to tell you. Then I made the tactical error of inviting him to my graduation." "I thought you didn't know his identity." "I didn't." Jill groaned. "Oh, Meredith, he came into the library and didn't seem to recognize me..." Jill told Meredith the entire story. "I still don't see why he'd think I was the one he boned." "The daggers." "Huh?" Meredith stared at her like she'd grown a third ear. "When I left him that night, things got kind of ugly." Jill swallowed. "He got mad because I wouldn't tell him my name. He may as well have said I was no better than a whore." "That sorry son of a bitch! You didn't deserve that. Why the hell would you work for the guy, after he treated you that way?" "Calm down. I didn't deserve it, but he must have been upset at the time. The job is perfect for me. He lets me be me, and it's fun, not like working at all. He's really nice and..."
"He got you off three times, yeah, I know. So now you've fallen for him, right?" Meredith poked her finger at Jill's chest. "Don't set yourself up to get hurt by this jerk. I still don't know why he thinks I'm the one he laid, but he's angry. He may be after payback, especially if you wounded his pride." "I think ... I think ... I'm going to have to tell him the truth." "Why now?" "I can't have him angry with you. That isn't fair." "Don't worry about me, Jill. You take care of yourself." Chapter Eight Bent Breckinridge had an awesome collection of cars. Hay had heard about them, but this was his first opportunity to see them other than in the Derby parade. He admired the '65 Ford Mustang, the '68 Pontiac GTO, and the 1938 Ford Coupe, which reminded him of a new PT Cruiser. In all, Breckinridge had seven classic autos, all of which were built before Hay was born. "Do you ever drive these?" Brent nodded. "Every one of them. I won't own a car I'm afraid to drive. Even the girls drive them sometimes, just to keep the oil circulating." Girls, as in Jill and the cold-hearted Meredith. "Lucky girls." "You want to drive one? Be my guest." "Maybe I will, if Jill will ride with me. It's her party, after all." It hadn't taken Hay five minutes to figure out that Jill took a backseat to everyone else in this family. She hadn't even had the decency to be born a boy, although they'd given her the Bentley name. It didn't take a psychologist to know why she originally planned to study law. Fortunately, she'd decided to make her own way instead of following in her old man's footsteps. Her parents were in their own worlds of fundraisers and law, oblivious to the disparate way they treated their two daughters. And that sister of hers was obviously used to being the center of attention. He still didn't know her game. She'd brought her fiancé with her today, so she wasn't trolling. Who would've guessed she'd been a virgin until three weeks ago? His grandmother had been accurate in describing Meredith as "colorful" if today's outfit was typical. He couldn't decide if she was trying for a Britney Spears or Dennis Rodman look. Although Hay didn't mind a little color, he found Jill's modest dress more appealing. "I think she's in the kitchen," Bent said, then opened the tall garage door. "Which one you want to take for a spin?" "I'll let Jill pick." When he emerged from the garage, Jill and her sister stood outside the building, deep in conversation. From the guilty faces, he figured he was the subject under discussion. Although she was a consummate professional, Jill couldn't hide her reaction to him when they were close. He hadn't imagined the blush, the nervousness when he'd lean over her shoulder to view her computer screen. He'd seen the points of her nipples when he'd caught her staring at him over her champagne glass. He'd bet his trust fund that she was interested in him. He genuinely liked Jill, and the attraction had mushroomed. If only he could forget that wild night of sex
with Meredith. But that was the problem. It had been unforgettable. "Your dad has offered to let me drive one of his cars. Will you ride along?" Jill bit her lower lip. "Um, sure. Which one?" "Come on. You choose." He led her toward the garage as Meredith walked away with her father. Inside the huge garage, Jill flushed with excitement, or agitation. Who knew what her sister had said to her? Had Meredith recognized him? Had she confessed their encounter with Jill? "It's warm enough for a convertible. Let's take the Mustang." Jill said. "Excellent choice." Working together, they lowered the convertible top, then backed the Mustang out of the building. Jill ran into the house to grab her purse and tie back her hair, then slid into the passenger seat and buckled her lap belt. She still wore the wine-colored dress she'd had on beneath the graduation gown--a simple dress that hugged her curves. It was a nice departure from her usual utilitarian garb. But he'd noticed other changes in her wardrobe since she'd begun her freelance job at King Remembrance Advertising, all of them for the better. Grandy had described Jill and her sister as almost twins, and she'd been right. Jill was the taller and heavier of the two, although not overweight by a long shot. But whoever thought Meredith the prettier of the two needed to take a closer look. Where Meredith had a lovely face, it looked like the perfect product of a Hollywood cosmetic surgeon, a beautiful face, but not unique. Jill's face had an almost exotic quality with her full lips and wider mouth, a mouth that was even lovelier when she smiled. But it had been Meredith's mouth that had made love to him. No other woman had come close to her performance. Maybe that's what made her seem worldly, even as a virgin. She may have had her cherry intact, but she'd had plenty of experience with sex. The fact remained that after all they'd shared at Grandy's, he suspected Meredith didn't know and didn't care who he was. That was obvious from the confused looks she gave him today. Or had she finally figured it out? Was that the reason behind Jill's edginess? They drove out to Long Run Park, the sun warming them just enough to make up for the cool wind. The Mustang was a challenge to drive, with its mechanical clutch and no power steering or power brakes. He enjoyed his first outing in a classic car, and Jill seemed right at home. She probably drove it often, although lately she'd been showing up for work driving an Escort. He pulled into a parking spot and shut off the engine, then turned to face Jill. "I want to ask you something." She smiled at him and a strange flutter seized his stomach. A more familiar ache shot straight to his groin. He had thought himself in love with Shelby Simpson, but for the life of him couldn't recall her having an affect on both his heart and his dick at the same time. With Shelby, lust had blossomed into love. With Jill, his heart liked her as much as his libido. And he hadn't even kissed her yet. "What's wrong?" she asked. "You said you want to ask me something, then you sort of zoned out." He chuckled, imagining his face going all goofy just thinking about her. "Sorry. I'm a little apprehensive."
Her smile slipped. "Oh. About what?" "I want to kiss you. Would you be offended?" Shock widened her gorgeous blue eyes. "No." Unsnapping his lap belt, he leaned across the console, cupped her face in his hands, and touched his lips to hers. She responded with surprising passion, moving her lips against his, opening them to welcome his tongue. Her tongue touched his, then boldly explored his mouth. Her responsiveness mirrored the genie's, no mistaking that. Again, he dismissed the idea. He'd seen too much reserve in Jill's behavior to suspect her. Still, he'd seen what Jill could do to a frozen fudge pop. The kiss went on and on, and his hand dropped to one of her breasts. He stroked her nipple and she moaned, leaning closer for more. Whoa, baby! His cock swelled tight against the constricting crotch of his pants, endangering the next King generation. With great reluctance--they were in a family park, after all--he ended the kiss and carefully straightened. "I wasn't expecting that." "Expecting me to want to kiss you?" He shook his head no, trying to relax his hard-on. "The fireworks. The explosive reaction to kissing you." She nodded. "I felt it, too." "Is it a problem if we start seeing each other? I'd like to take you out." "You want to date me?" "Yes, unless you object to dating a man you're working for." He fervently hoped that wouldn't be the case. "I like you, Jill, and I'm attracted to you. Is that so hard to believe?" "Not Meredith?" "No, not Meredith. Why would you think that?" Again, he wondered if Meredith knew him and had pretended otherwise. What had she said to Jill? She looked away, but not before he caught the uncertainty in her eyes. "Through the years a lot of guys have dated me to get to Meredith. It's made me gun-shy." "A lot of stupid guys, maybe. But I'm not that dumb." She whipped around to meet his gaze. "It's not dumb to want Meredith." "No, but it's dumb not to want you." He kissed her astounded, open mouth, then buckled up. "I'd better get the car back to your dad's. Then we'll discuss our date." **** Hay said his good-byes to Jill's parents, then asked her to walk him to his car. Danny and Meredith sat atop the hood of Danny's old truck. Hay made polite talk about how nice it was to meet them. Danny ran his hand through the black hair that he wore long for his rock band. "You're one of the Haywoods, aren't you?"
"Yes, Mom was a Haywood." "Which is where you got your name, right?" Jill said. "Yes." "So were you at that party Derby night, the costume ball?" Danny asked just as Meredith elbowed him. "Eeoww!" Damn it, Danny, shut your big mouth! "Right. Well, I need to hit the road..." "We were there, dude. Did you see us? Four of us. I was the lion, Heather was the scarecrow, Josh was the tin man, and Meredith here was the lovely Dorothy. You know, from The Wizard of Oz?" No! Jill tried to calm her racing heart. Hay frowned at Meredith, then at her. Unable to hide her emotions, Jill gazed into his eyes, begging for understanding. Forgiveness. A second chance? But he turned to face Meredith. "You were Dorothy?" Meredith shot Jill a guilty look that Hay was sure to catch. "Yes." "What were you at the party, Dude?" Hay hesitated, staring first at Meredith, then at her. What she saw destroyed her. No understanding, no forgiveness. Certainly no second chance. A series of emotions paraded across his face, none of them pleasant. He turned to Danny and said, "I was the fool." Then he stormed off to his car and left. **** "Well, that certainly went well," Hay muttered to his reflection in the rearview mirror as he drove home. He'd been the fool, all right. Both Jill and Meredith had known who he was--whether before the party or after, he wasn't sure. But Jill had been the one with the mission, the one who had worn the sexy genie costume. The one who was out to lose her cherry, no matter who did the deed. The one who'd given him the best sex of his life. And she had been a virgin. That was the only part that rang true. Oh, boy, could he pick 'em or what? He barely remembered the drive back to his St. Matthews condo. In one afternoon, his enthusiasm for his business had faded, his plans for dating Jill had disintegrated. Why was that? After two bottles of beer and an hour of soul-searching, he was no closer to the answer. Or was he ignoring the obvious? His career, his business, his personal happiness, all were tied to Jill Breckinridge. She had the brains and the creativity to help his business succeed; she had the subtle class that would present a professional image to clients. She had a sweetness that women like Shelby Simpson couldn't fathom--a generosity that included fierce loyalty to a sister she should've resented. She had a sense of humor.
And a mouth that could take him to the Garden of Eden. What made a woman like Jill Breckinridge throw herself to a stranger incognito at a party? Now that he knew her better and had worked with her, he began to get the picture. Jill was insecure and vulnerable. Guys used her to get to her sister. Her own family overlooked her. Grandy had said she'd always been in Meredith's shadow. Maybe she thought incognito was the only way she could attract a man. Her words that night suddenly crashed into him. How pathetic would it be if you ran into me one day? You'd think, there's that girl who threw herself at me because she couldn't get laid. Why hadn't he remembered that earlier? The confident Meredith wouldn't say that. How blind he'd been. So many pieces of the puzzle fell into place. As his genie, she'd been a contradiction at every turn. Now he saw her confidence as bravado, her experience as intelligence. But her hot passion was all genuine, simmering beneath the surface of an inferiority complex. And he'd uncovered it. His instincts had screamed that they were perfectly matched as bedmates. His mind told him they were suitable colleagues in business. Hadn't he been intrigued by her from that first moment at the Dairy Queen? Wasn't she everything he needed or wanted, rolled into one wonderful package? And in anger, he'd just thrown it all way. Chapter Nine At eight o'clock, Hay's doorbell rang. As if conjured up from his thoughts, there was Jill,staring unknowingly at him as he looked through the peephole. He didn't know what she was doing here, but he wouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth. "Come in." She didn't step inside. Instead, she gazed at him with lines of tension between her serious blue eyes and pushed a small package into his hands. "Would you please return this to your grandmother?" "The sweatshirt?" She nodded. "It's mine, anyway." Again, she nodded. "I sort of figured that out." He tried for a smile, while a serious case of anxiety gripped his stomach. "I'll trade you for a souvenir Derby glass." She averted her eyes. "Oh, I forgot. I guess I left that..." "Please, Jill, come inside. We need to talk." "All right." Slumped and defeated, she dragged herself into his living room. "I suppose you'll want me to leave King Remembrance now. I understand." "Have a seat. Can I get you a soda? Beer?" She shook her head in refusal, so he joined her on the sofa. "Why would I want you to leave King Remembrance when you've doubled my business in the last two weeks?" She looked at him, a mixture of pride and confusion in her eyes. "Yes, we've doubled your business, haven't we?" "You have. The clients love your cute slogans. Word is getting around. So will you keep freelancing for me?" ****
She tried to shrug away the tension between her shoulder blades. Was he saying he still wanted her to work for him? "I'd like to, but ... I mean, I didn't think you'd want me around. I know what you must think of me..." "What I think of you is that you're the best thing that's ever happened to me." "What?" Hope surged through her. Could he be referring to more than just the business? "Look, I didn't understand you at the party, all that stuff about getting laid before your birthday and not wanting me to know you. You hurt my ego, big time." She shook her head before he finished. "It wasn't about you, it was about me. I was so embarrassed. You were so hunky..." "Hunky?" He grinned. "...and I was so ordinary. I was putting on an act, trying to be more like my sister. She's so popular and pretty..." Hay touched his finger to her lips to silence her. "Don't try to be anybody but Jill. Jill is a very special woman. She's not plain or unremarkable. She's hot." She blinked. Hot? Nobody had ever considered her hot. Was there hope, after all, for a romance with him? "And you aren't angry at me?" "How could I be angry at a woman who thinks I'm hunky?" She couldn't believe the change in Hay. After his stormy exit, she thought he'd want nothing further to do with her. But she'd been unwilling to give up without asking for his forgiveness. It had taken every bit of courage the new Jill could muster to look up his address and drive to his townhouse. His response was beyond her wildest fantasies. She still had her job with him, she had his forgiveness, and even his friendship. She needed to explain, to tell him everything. "I know you think I was just using you, and maybe that's how it started out, but..." "Let me ask you something. If you just wanted to have sex with anyone, why not the pirate?" "He didn't appeal to me." "But I did?" "Of course, but..." "But, nothing!" He pulled her into his arms, where she ached to be. "You felt some attraction for me, just as I felt attracted to you. We rushed things a bit, but you can't deny the pull that drew us together." "I didn't know you felt it, too. I just assumed an experienced guy like you could have any number of women, certainly more experienced..." "That's why you ran, isn't it? At the library..." "I nearly fainted in the library when I read your business card. At that moment I realized who you were." "I didn't recognize you at first. Your librarian image threw me off."
She nodded. "I thought you'd deliberately tracked me down, just to ... I don't know. Teach me a lesson, maybe? Humiliate me? All I knew was that I wanted to fade into the bookcases." "Then why did you call about the job?" She wasn't sure she knew the answer herself. "I guess I decided to face the music. But you didn't seem to recognize me, and then the job was so much fun. I tried to forget that night..." "I could never forget that night." "...and I found I liked you as a person and a boss. I hated to lose that." "We work great together." He winked. She gave him a broad smile. He was referring to more than King Remembrance Advertising. He covered her mouth in a blistering kiss as if to prove his point. She didn't intend to disappoint him, and she responded with as much passion as she had when she was the genie. Her lips moved with his, her tongue teased his, and her moans of arousal matched his. His hand found her nipple, and he resumed where he'd left off that afternoon at the park, rolling the distended tip with his thumb until she begged for more. "I want you, God, I want you, more than I've ever wanted a woman." He wanted her! Yes! Elation buoyed her. For the first time, she wasn't second fiddle to her beautiful sister. Sliding his hand down her body, he found the hem of her filmy wine-colored dress, the one she'd bought especially with him in mind. She'd hoped at her graduation party, he'd see her emerging from her frumpy cocoon into a butterfly worthy of his notice. He slipped his hand beneath the dress and inched his way to her delta. He kissed her again and again, until her lungs screamed for air. She spread her legs for him, encouraging him to touch her there. His fingers slid beneath the waistband of her panties, then paused. "Are you willing to take this to the bedroom?" he asked. Giddy, she flashed him a saucy grin. "Yes. I like working under you." "You'll need to meet with my staff." "Is it a large staff?" He pressed a quick kiss to her lips, then winked. "Let's just say it'll be a long meeting." "Oh, a long agenda?" She giggled with nervousness. "You're good with words." Offering her his hand, he pulled her from the sofa then led her to the stairs. "Let's see if you're as good as I remember with other things." She floated up the stairs as if in a trance. And he wanted her. Meredith had said what Jill and Hay had experienced was rare and special. Hay had said they'd sizzled together. Didn't he know he could have her anytime he wanted? With Jill it was much more than the sex. But sex would be the vehicle with which she'd show him her heart. She couldn't afford to say the words.
She'd never said them before and she'd not risk heartache or rejection. She'd take what he gave her, as long as he wanted. Pausing at the foot of the double bed, he reached behind her to unzip her dress. His teasing manner gone, he held her gaze with an intense stare. "I want you naked. I've never seen you naked." "Yes, you have..." "You were hiding behind your mask. This time, I'll know it's you." He feathered kisses behind her ear, down her collarbone. "I'm going to make you come, Jill, come until you're too exhausted to walk." Her pulse raced at his seductive promise. It excited her. It frightened her. But she'd do whatever he wanted because, of course, she wanted it, too. Oh, yes. Her new dress puddled at her feet, and she stepped out of it. He then slid his thumbs along the waistband of her pantyhose. "Kick off your shoes." She drew a ragged breath as he tugged down the panties and pantyhose, but stepped out of her black pumps as he commanded. Facing him now wearing nothing but her bra and necklace, she shivered beneath his slow, blatant stare. Reaching between her breasts, he unsnapped the front closure and removed the bra, dragging the straps slowly across her skin and down her arms. "What about you? I want you naked, too, Lone Ranger." He smiled. "Undress me, little genie." Reaching for Hay's belt buckle, she made quick work of dragging down his slacks and briefs, freeing his erection. God, he was magnificent! Protruding from a nest of dark curls, his shaft curved like a perfectly shaped kielbasa, thick and long. She had to force herself away from it in order to remove his shirt. But she quickly returned her attention to his impressive penis. She stroked its length in either direction, eliciting a low growl from him. Yes, he'd liked that little trick that first time, hadn't he? If he planned to weaken her from orgasms, she wanted to have her pleasure first. Licking her lips, she dropped to her knees on the carpet and planted a kiss on the purple-veined crown. He sucked in a breath, but didn't protest. "I have to have you first, Hay." "I ... I think I need to sit down." He sank onto the foot of the bed, and she followed, burying her face in his lap. "Oh, baby." She licked every inch of his penis, then his scrotum, savoring his taste. Heady with her newfound feminine power, she used her hands to stimulate his shaft while she took the head of his rock hard cock into her mouth. She tasted his fluid as it seeped from the hole, then used her tongue to spread it over his glans. Massaging his testicles, she took all of his length into her mouth, back to her throat, then slowly pulled back. Over and back, over and back, first licking, then protecting him from her teeth with her lips, sliding down his length with more pressure. The tongue, then the lips, deep then out. God, she wanted him to come, to empty his semen into her mouth. She squeezed her own groin muscles as her clitoris responded. Turning him on turned her on. Was that what it was like for him, too? She drew back over his crown, then sucked, followed by licking. He swelled, stiffened, and cried out her name. "Oh, damn ... Jesus! I'm going to come."
She covered him again with her mouth and sucked harder as he convulsed and emptied. After licking his cum, she sat back on her heels and studied his face. He'd thrown back his head, and his eyes were closed. The nostrils of his Andy Garcia-like nose flared. A light stubble peppered his jaw and chin. "Are you all right?" she asked. She didn't want to disappoint him. After all, the mystery that shrouded their first sexual encounter was gone. This was Jill, and he knew it. "Oh, yeah." Opening his eyes, he exhaled a long breath. "You have the most incredible mouth God ever gave a woman." Her confidence returned with his words. "Yours is pretty incredible, too." She crawled upon the bed beside him and kissed his nipples, then ran her tongue along his chest, up his neck, finally reaching his mouth. She poured all the passion in her heart into loving every inch of him. He kissed her, a long and thorough kiss. "I'll take that as a hint." "A compliment, not a..." She lost track of her reply when he shifted on the bed, moving so that his face was even with her delta. He lifted her legs to drape his shoulders. Then his mouth kissed her mons, and his tongue lapped up her own fluid. "You are so wet and ready." "You make me wet." His tongue licked and teased her sensitive clitoris, while his fingers entered her vagina. "I'm going to make you come..." he said, "...with a little finger fuck. Then you're going to beg me for the real thing." She was ready to beg now, but again lost her train of thought when his mouth closed over her clit and gently suckled. His fingers probed and pumped her with increasing tempo until the pressure building inside her proved too much. She stiffened, then rocked against his mouth until she found release. "Oh, Hay! God! That feels too good." "Just the beginning, sweetheart." Lifting his head from her mound, he kissed her abdomen, then moved his hot mouth north until he found one of her hardened nipples. His tongue teased it into an almost painful erection while his hand returned to her slick canal. It took just a few strokes before she convulsed in another, more powerful orgasm. "You make me hard when you pant and moan like that." A quick peek verified his claim. He had another erection. "Please, Hay, I need you inside me." "Sure, baby. Let me just grab a condom." Thank God one of them had sense. She hadn't thought about birth control or anything except the sensational sex between them. Her only thought was to have his big, hard cock inside her wet vagina, pumping for all it was worth. But the thought of his seed growing inside her, forming a child of theirs, didn't frighten her as much as it probably should. Spreading her legs wide to welcome him, she lifted to help him gain entrance. She needed him inside her, now. Ah, God, the feel of him! He held himself over her with one hand, while he massaged her nipple with the other. He drove himself deeper with each stroke until she felt a new kind of pressure. She'd read about the G-spot. Could this be what he touched? As if in answer, she splintered into a vaginal climax unlike any she'd ever had. It stole her breath with its intensity. "Oh, Hay, what ... how ... did you do that? It's ... it's fabulous."
Her voice sounded weak even to herself, but she was drained. Exhausted. And that was only orgasm number three. What else could he have in store for her? "We did it together." He pulled out. "Roll over on all fours for me, sweetheart." She whimpered when he withdrew from her, but did as he asked. Then he climbed on her, doggy-style, and slid back inside her slickness. Reaching around her abdomen, he fingered her sensitive clit while plunging hard. Again, he touched that wonderful spot deep within, hammering away at it until the pressure ballooned. The combination of finger massage and thrusting penis proved to be too much. Her vaginal muscles convulsed in an explosion of sensation, and she collapsed, blackness rimming her vision. Closing her eyes, she surrendered to the dark. "Jill? Jill?" From far away, Hay's anxious voice called, "Are you all right? Say something." Had she lost consciousness? Moaning, she lifted her head but without opening her eyes. "You were right." "What? Right about what?" "I can't walk. I'm too weak. But please don't stop now." He chuckled, then gently rolled her over to her back. "I'll be easy on you." She opened her eyes and grinned up at him. "You better be hard." "Oh, I am, sweetheart, I am." Then he entered her and worked up to a steady rhythm, building until he found his own release. Closing his eyes, his face tightened. He filled the condom and lay still across her sated body. After a few minutes, he raised his head and peered at her through one opened eye. "Are you all right, babe?" "Yes, just weak." In more ways than one. After the incredible intimacy they'd shared, Jill now resurrected old doubts. Would he tire of her and discard her after he had his fill of the sex? Never had she been more vulnerable. "You scared me for a second, when I thought you'd passed out." "You kept your promise. I don't think I can walk." And she needed to gracefully extricate herself from his bed and go home, now, before she made a total fool of herself. "Hmm. Then in that case, you'd better plan to spend the night." Chapter Ten With a quick call to Meredith to say she was spending the night with a "friend," Jill handed back the cordless phone. Hay placed it on the nightstand, then gathered her in his arms. He pulled up the sheet and tucked it around them. She felt so right, so perfect here. Was he moving too fast? Was he rebounding from Shelby? No. He and Jill had issues to resolve, but he'd never felt this certain with Shelby, even after they were engaged. With Jill, he saw his future fall into place. But did she? "We need to talk, baby," he said.
Wariness flickered in her eyes. "All right." "I'm eight years older than you. I'm looking to settle down. You've just graduated from college and have your fun years ahead of you." Sadness filled her eyes. "Is this the 'let's just be friends' speech?" "Hell, no!" She let out a loud breath. "Then what are you saying?" The room grew darker in the twilight hour, casting shadows across her face. He reached for the lamp. Flicking it on, he scooted into a sitting position and urged her to sit up with him. "Idon't want you to later have regrets about being with me." "Look, I don't know the protocol here. You know very well that I'm new at sex, so help me out. Is this where you warn me not to read too much into this? You can't make promises, I shouldn't buy Bride magazine, and..." He silenced her with a kiss. "You watch too many chick flicks." "I rarely watch movies. Just spit it out, whatever you're trying to say. I promise I won't let it affect our working relationship, okay?" Spit it out? What did he have to lose? Maybe everything he could ever want. But as Grandy always said, nothing ventured, nothing gained. "I want to wake up beside you every morning, watch videos and eat popcorn huddled in front of the fireplace in winter. I want you in my life, Jill." "You mean, you want a relationship?" She couldn't hide the doubt in her voice. Then he remembered. This was the sweet young woman who'd grown up in her sister's shadow, who thought she needed to hide behind a mask to get laid. By her own admission, she was no party animal. Intelligent, mature, she had no clue that she was hot. "It's ... I need to tell you something." He pulled her into his arms, tucking her head under his chin so he could sniff her floral shampoo scent. "Remember I told you I had been engaged?" "Yes, to some bimbo who didn't appreciate you." He chuckled at that. "I was to marry a woman, a sophisticated, beautiful woman who was everything my mother wanted in a daughter-in-law. I thought I loved her, thought she loved me, until I found out she was banging my best friend. Then, after I got him good and drunk, he told me about the other guys she was fucking. Seems she needed to sample the entire menu before she settled down with one entree." "That's horrible!" Jill pulled back from his embrace, and hurt filled her eyes. "So you think that's what I'll do?" "No." He shook his head. Jill was nothing like fickle Shelby, and his heart knew it. "Look, the noble thing for me to do would be to give you a chance to meet other men, to be sure what we have isn't just beginner's luck. But I'm not noble. Tell me now, before I say anymore, if you feel we have a future as a couple. Because I'm feeling mighty possessive toward you."
She brightened. "You are?" "Yes, I am. If I didn't think it was rushing you, I'd move you in here tomorrow." "You would?" Her smile grew wider. "Really?" "So what are you thinking?" He braced himself. "I'm thinking it wouldn't be rushing." "You'll move in with me? What will you tell your parents?" She rolled her eyes. "Hay, I'm twenty-two years old. It's time I left the nest, and they'll agree. As for moving in with you, they won't approve, but they won't go ballistic and disown me." "Would they approve if we were engaged?" Again, he held his breath. Had he pushed her too far? "I'm not going to lie to them. They'll adjust, don't worry." "Look at me." He touched his fingertip to her chin, tilting her face toward his. "I'm talking a real engagement. You're perfect for me. But the age difference worries me because you've not had..." "How many?" "Huh?" She'd lost him now. "How many other guys do you want me to sleep with? What's the criteria?" Damn it to hell, he didn't want her sleeping with anyone else! Where did she get that crazy idea? "Other guys?" "Yes. You said the noble thing would be to give me a chance to meet other men. Since I'm so young and inexperienced, how many other guys need I have sex with before you'll trust me?" "I didn't mean it that way, damn it!" He raked his fingers through his hair. How could he explain himself? "I just want to be sure you don't regret..." "Think about how that sounds," she said. "Your lyrics are about a future with me, but the music is about your fiancée. If you're worried about my sampling the menu, as you put it, then I'm suggesting I get it out of my system, a suggestion that was made facetiously. God, do you really think I'm going to sleep around?" Did he? "I still don't know your feelings, but make no mistake about how I feel. I love you..." "You love me?" "Yes, but..." "Please don't qualify it or put conditions on it." "I love you unconditionally. That's why..." "I promised myself I wouldn't say this, but I love you, too. I've loved you since that first night, when you rescued me from that creepy pirate. I was afraid to tell you because you're, like, so out of my league..." He silenced her with a long, long kiss. "I guess we each have our share of insecurities, baby."
Her luscious lips curved into a huge smile and adoration lit her eyes. "But you're in love with me." "Yes, sweetheart." He kissed her again. They had much to discuss. He wanted her to finish graduate school before they married, to give her plenty of time to be sure. They needed to tell their families, make wedding plans. They'd probably be talking all night. But not right now. As she moved to straddle his erection and deepened the kiss, Hay's thoughts scattered. Talking could wait. The End About the Author: Vanessa Hart, known as "Nessie" to her writing buddies, writes romance and suspense novels under a different name. She is an imaginative, drop-dead gorgeous, curvy young red-head. Well, she's imaginative, anyway. Vanessa's Website: http://www.vanessahart.com Email Vanessa:
[email protected] We invite you to visit Liquid Silver Books http://www.liquidsilverbooks.com for other exciting literary erotica romances. Waiting For You -- Glenda Diana Weekend Games -- Chris Tanglen Destiny's Magick -- Rae Morgan Love Lessons -- Vanessa Hart Portal -- Sydney Morgann Bittersweet -- Louisa Trent Business or Pleasure or Both? -- Rae Morgan and Jasmine Haynes And many, many more!!
