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  His face pressed my back, and his finger started moving again. It went on like that forever, his flesh sliding on mine and teasing me to the edge of climax before easing off. His cock throbbed inside me, my cunt so sensitive, my clit so engorged, that every shift of his breath, the subtle thickening of his penis inside me, was as obvious and arousing as if he’d started to slam in and out of me.

  “Are you still watching?” His voice, low and slow, tugged my ear.

  “Yes.”

  I couldn’t look away. My cheeks had paled, but the red flush now crept up my chest and along the column of my throat. I couldn’t see the motion of Jack’s hand, but I could feel it, just as I could feel him throb inside me.

  Pleasure engulfed me as my muscles tensed. I had to force my hands to loosen their grip on Jack’s knees. My thighs ached with the strain of not moving. Under my butt, Jack’s thighs pushed upward, just slightly, and his cock thrust the teensiest bit harder into me. It was enough.

  I put my hand over his as I gasped, the small motion of his fingertip on me now too much as my clit beat and my cunt bore down on him. Still, he didn’t move or thrust, and still I did not close my eyes.

  It was hard, looking at my own face contort with ecstasy, and in the end though I managed to keep my eyes open, I did have to shift the focus of my gaze to a spot on the wall behind me rather than look into my own eyes. I bit down on my lower lip hard enough to break the skin, but miraculously didn’t.

  I came with a shudder but in silence. My orgasm was too vast for shouts or gasps. It sucked the breath from me and left me panting as the waves of ecstasy washed over me, one after the other. Even when those first few seconds of blinding pleasure had passed, my body didn’t subside into satedness. The second I let go of the hand still pressed against my clit, Jack began to fuck me. The motion of his thrusts pushed my still-sensitive clit onto the pad of his palm. I was coming again within moments, not in silence now but with a long, low cry that would have been louder if I’d had the breath to scream.

  From behind me, Jack grunted and leaned against the back of the chair, tilting his body and pelvis upward with each thrust. I leaned forward, no longer watching, but opening the passage of my body to take in as much of him as I could. There was no friction, just smooth, smooth strokes as he fucked into me harder and harder. We moved together. I wanted to come again, but a third climax eluded me, the pressure too much or too little and never quite enough.

  Jack put both hands on my hips and used his grip to move me as he thrust. It hurt, that slamming, his penis battering inside me, but I didn’t care. He shouted, his last thrust lifting my entire body.

  Jack’s grip loosened. I caught my breath. He softened inside me, and I got up on trembling legs to wobble to the bathroom to splash my face with cold water. Jack followed me after a minute, and I stepped aside to give him room at the sink. He cupped one large hand beneath the water and scooped a drink, then looked up at me with lips glistening.

  And the smile.

  “Hey,” Jack said.

  “Hey.” I smiled, too.

  We had a reflection here also, in the harsh white fluorescent bathroom light, but it didn’t have quite the same effect on me. I pulled the cups of my bra around and hooked them, then started on my blouse buttons. The flush was already fading from my throat.

  Jack pulled up his briefs and jeans, the condom already gone. He left the belt open, though, his jeans low enough to expose the hint of hair on his belly below the hem of his T-shirt.

  “Jesus,” I said without thinking too hard about it. “You’re so pretty.”

  Jack, who’d bent to take another drink from the faucet, swallowed and turned off the water. He stood, facing the mirror one way, then the other, checking himself out. He looked at me.

  “Pretty?” he said at last, as if he meant to take it as a compliment but wasn’t quite sure how.

  “Oh, yes.” I washed my hands and dried them on the white hand towel folded so neatly on the rack. “Very.”

  He looked again at his reflection and ran a damp hand through his hair to push it off his forehead. “Huh.”

  “Nobody’s ever told you that before?” I nudged him with my elbow and left the bathroom.

  He followed me. “Nope.”

  I stretched, testing my muscles for soreness. My thighs hurt the most. “Well…you are.

  Absolutely lovely.”

  He laughed at this. “Okay. Thanks. You’re pretty, too.”

  It was my turn to laugh then. I found my discarded panties and slid them on. “Thanks.”

  “No,” Jack said. “I mean it.”

  I looked up then, to look at him. “Thanks, Jack.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  This time, the cell phone that rang was Jack’s, but I checked mine anyway while he looked at his. I had no messages, but I knew he had one. He didn’t answer it, though, just glanced at the number and flipped his phone closed.

  “I have to get going,” I told him. “Thanks for seeing me on such short notice.”

  He shrugged and shoved his phone down deep into his pocket.

  I leaned up to kiss his cheek soundly and grabbed his ass at the same time, then stepped back. “I’ve got to go. I’ll call you.”

  Jack nodded. “All right.”

  At home, the dark house greeted me with the powerful odor of the detergent the cleaning crew had used to get rid of the mess in the basement. Jared would be back to work tomorrow, and I had an early appointment.

  My cell phone rang as I was halfway up the stairs, and I answered without checking the caller ID. I expected the answering service, but the caller greeted me with my first name only and not “Ms. Frawley.”

  “Grace.” Not a question.

  My answer was also not a question. “Sam.”

  Chapter 11

  “I bet you’re wondering how I got this number.”

  “I am, actually.” I pushed open the door to my apartment and flicked on the light switch. I toed off my shoes and left them scattered on the floor as I padded to the kitchen for a drink and a snack.

  “Your office manager took pity on me. I called so many times I convinced her to give me your number.”

  “How’d you manage to convince her you didn’t plan to strangle me and stuff my body in a Dumpster?” I asked without a trace of humor in my voice, even though I was smiling despite myself.

  “I don’t think I did. Maybe you should pay her better.”

  I bit down on the laugh, but a giggle escaped me anyway. “I’ll have a talk with her.”

  “Don’t be too hard on her. She was just worn down. I can be a real pain in the ass.”

  I opened the fridge and found a jug of orange juice and a bowl of washed grapes. “You don’t say.”

  “I don’t say, actually,” Sam replied. “But I’ve heard it said about me, so I guess it might be true.”

  I poured juice and tucked a grape between my lips. “It’s very late, Sam. I have to go to bed.”

  “Alone?”

  “Yes. Alone.”

  “That’s sad.”

  I heard shuffling and imagined him stretched out in a bed of his own. “Where are you?”

  “In bed. Alone. It’s very sad, Grace. The bed has cowboy sheets on it.”

  This stopped me. “What?”

  “Cowboy sheets.”

  “Why are you in a bed with cowboy sheets?” I nibbled another grape and sipped juice as I headed for the bedroom, where my own bed awaited me with soft flannel sheets.

  “I’m at my mom’s.” More shuffling. “The sheets are actually my brother’s. Mine had dinosaurs on them, but I couldn’t find them in the linen closet. So I’m stuck with cowboys.”

  “That is sad.” I laughed.

  “Not as sad as being alone.”

  Adept at undressing with one hand holding the phone to my ear, I unzipped my skirt, then unbuttoned my blouse and tossed them in the laundry. “If you go to sleep, you won’t notice you’re alone.”

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