As my heart and my body began to readjust, my brain caught up. He did want me, obviously, he wanted me. But he wanted it to be special.
We were both fools. Crazy fools.
I blushed suddenly at my nakedness. I was sitting in my car naked, parked on the side of a mountain, with a still very hard Brit next to me, and we were both trying to get back in control of ourselves.
I caught his eye and we both smirked.
"That was, wow. I can't believe how hard it was to stop myself," he said.
"No kidding. I'm impressed. And apparently a bit of a slut," I laughed, primly covering my exposed breasts with pieces of my dress. It was shredded.
Panties? Shredded.
Pride? Slightly shredded, but intact.
"Are you kidding? Slut becomes you; you're my favorite slut. And just because I'm not going to be inside you tonight, doesn't mean I won't be very very soon," he answered, his voice rolling in sex as he twirled my panties on his finger, or at least what was left of them.
He shrugged out of his shirt, handing it to me and he put his jacket back on. I buttoned up and leaned over to kiss his neck.
"How quick can you get us home?"
"Buckle up, Nuts Girl," he quipped, hand on my thigh as we tore off into the night.
***
When we got back to Holly's we walked in giggling like teenagers, only to be stopped by Mama Holly with a carton of Chunky Monkey. She took one look at us. I was dressed in his shirt, buttoned all cock eyed. One shoe. He was wearing his jacket, no shirt underneath…very Miami Vice. We both had bite marks on our necks. She shook her head as we ran through the kitchen, shaking her spoon at us.
"You had better hope there were no photographers wherever you were, dammit!" she shouted up to us. I ran up the stairs ahead of him, still naked underneath his shirt, and I swear to Holy Chex Mix…he bit me on my butt.
***
We had a crazy night, reminiscent of our first night together. It was as if we knew that by this time tomorrow night, we would be moving beyond our own little sexual frontier and it was like a countdown of our greatest hits. He made me crazy in the bed, up against the door, in the shower, and once again…on the floor of the closet. His hair was a mess, my hands refusing to let go whenever he got that maniacal tongue near my lady bits.
I would like to thank whoever wrote the manual that all twenty something men now read, because they sure love to take a taste. Not that it didn't happen when I was in my early twenties. It did. But Jesus, I will be damned if the quality had not improved. I don't know if I needed to thank Bill Clinton, or internet porn, or Sex and the City, but damn.
And how the hell did a twenty-four-year-old guy know how to find a J-Spot? My first boyfriend couldn't have found it with a TomTom. Truth be told, it took me a while, too. But my George?
By George, I think he'd got it.
Double Damn.
And he got as good as he gave. By the time I was finished with him, he was actually begging me to let him rest, a first for him.
We were laying in bed, legs and arms tangled pleasantly and both positively glowing in our post orgasmic silence except for "Jack's Happy Sound". I did love to hear that little hum, especially when we were close like this.
I stretched, letting out a big yawn and then settled further into the covers. Our little cocoon was so warm, and even though I knew logically it wasn't possible, I swear that my sheets were softer when he was under them. How could that be?
He had snuggled down so far under the covers that all that was visible was a shock of messy hair, curls askew. He was wrapped around me like a snake, with his head placed upon my chest. I could feel his breath, it tickled my skin. I giggled and poked him in the ribs. The hair jumped slightly.
"Hey, are we really going to Santa Barbara tomorrow?"
"You better believe it," he said, through a yawn.
"What time are we leaving? And how long will we be there?" I asked, noting how, when he answered, the hair bobbed.
"We can leave as soon as we wake up. I know you'll have tons to do here to get ready for New York, so we'll only be there through Sunday. Two nights."
Then I only had two nights after that before I had to leave. I quickly pushed that thought aside.
"What's in Santa Barbara anyway? You mentioned that you had to go," I asked, sneaking my hand beneath the covers and finding his face. I caressed his skin and he moved his lips to capture my fingers in a quick kiss.
"I have a photo shoot with some of the other cast members. You can meet them if you like," he said, almost shyly.
"Do you want me to?" I asked, not knowing what to say. We had just been told by Holly to keep things quiet, and while Jack said he didn't care who knew we were…well…whatever we were…I knew it wasn't a smart idea. The less people that knew, the better.
"Well, yeah. I mean, I already told my friend Rebecca about you, and Lane—he plays Isaac in the film—heard me on the phone with you the other day. So, yes. You should meet them." He was quiet for a moment and then finished, "if you want to."
I thought for a moment.
"Yes. I want to," I answered, and felt him relax against me further.
"Right then, that's settled. But remember one thing, Grace," he said.
"Yes?"
He pushed his head above the covers, looking wonderfully rumpled and sexy.
"When I'm working, I'm working. You can come and meet them then. Because when I'm not working…" he paused and I finished for him.
"You're only going to be working me, George." I arched an eyebrow at him. He gazed at me for a moment and just the look in his eyes made my nipples go on point.
He noticed.
"Grace, you bad girl. You're going to enjoy this weekend…" His voice trailed off seductively. His lips dipped to my neck and began to sweep kisses across my collarbone and his hands came up to my breasts.
I rolled away, to the furthest edge of the bed.
"Hey, where did you go?" he asked, surprised.
"We're going to sleep, Sweet Nuts, so tomorrow will happen faster," I answered.
He chuckled and rolled over to me, pressing his body up against me in the most comforting way, and as his hands found my breasts, he whispered, "Good night, sweet girl."
I sighed happily and shut my eyes, willing myself to sleep.
Tomorrow, we'd drive.
And then?
Let the blessed shagging begin.
Chapter Twenty
When I woke up, it was like Christmas morning. And by that, I mean I was so excited to drive to Santa Barbara and have the hotel sex that I began jumping on the bed, singing a happy tune. Jack was, of course, still sound asleep, and he groaned from his place beneath the covers. I continued to jump, and sang, in a tune that sounded oddly like "A Tisket A Tasket."
"A shagging, a shagging, I'm going to get a shagging!"
Jack was under the covers, still groaning. I poked him with my toe, standing over him in a victorious pose. "Hey, get up! Get up! I thought you said the shagging would begin today," I teased, taking my toe and pulling the covers down slowly. I revealed a creased forehead, knit together eyebrows, glaring eyes, and a frowning mouth. As the reveal continued, however, I saw a strong chest, slim hips, my favorite trail this side of Appalachia, and…hello lover. A Morning Missile. His eyes said no, but his wood said yes.
My eyes widened at the sight, and Jack arched his back as he stretched, making it poke further at his boxers. I bit my lip in unrestrained lust. I couldn't get sidetracked or we would never make it to Santa Barbara.