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  I really had no more excuses after that, but as I followed his motorcycle in my car down Harrisburg’s dark streets, I almost chickened out. Three times. Jack pulled up onto the sidewalk and parked the bike, and I found a spot for Betty between a beat-up Metro and a garish green Accord. I got out and locked my doors, then looked up at the brick building.

  “C’mon in.” Jack held out his hand, and I took it.

  Chapter 14

  He lived on the third floor, and though the place didn’t look like much from the outside, his apartment was clean. Almost stark. Plain white walls and bare wooden floors in one main room with a small bathroom and bedroom tucked off to the back. His furniture looked battered, but his sink, unlike my own, wasn’t piled high with dishes and his garbage pail didn’t overflow with trash.

  Jack hung his jacket and helmet on a set of large metal pegs drilled into the wall and tossed his keys into a glass dish on a small table by the door. He gestured. “This is my place.”

  “It’s nice.” I looked around, noting the art on the walls. “Did you draw those?”

  “Some of them. Yeah.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Some are from friends.”

  I was no expert, but even I could see he had talent. “You’re good.”

  He put his arms around me from behind, pulling me back against him. “Yeah, I think you told me that before.”

  I mock elbowed him. “I meant your pictures.”

  He turned me in his arms and pulled me flush against him. “I know.”

  It was different without the money between us, in a subtle way I couldn’t put my finger on and didn’t want to think about. Jack didn’t seem to have any trouble. He slid his hand under my hair to cup the back of my neck and bent to kiss me as he backed me toward the bedroom.

  We’d done a lot of role playing, but this time there was no pizza delivery boy, no naughty schoolboy. No bored housewife or demanding boss. No more lessons, as a matter of fact, because he’d learned them all very, very well.

  He undressed me carefully, using his hands and mouth to map the curves he revealed. His mouth lingered at the swell of my breasts above my lacy bra while his fingers skimmed the edge of my matching panties and slid beneath my ass. He took his time but didn’t do it slowly, and his careful haste, his eagerness to reach my nakedness, thrilled me.

  Still kissing me, he tugged open his belt, undid the zip, pushed the jeans over his lean hips and to the floor. He took his mouth from my flesh only long enough to pull off his long-sleeved T-shirt. I stopped him when he put his hands on the waistband of his boxers.

  “Wait.”

  He gave me a curious look.

  “Let me.”

  Standing at the edge of the bed, Jack lifted his hands in acquiescence as I scooted forward.

  Sitting on the edge of the bed, I curled my fingers into the soft fabric of his boxers and pulled it down.

  We’d spent a lot of time on making me happy. It was what I paid for, after all. To be pleased. Jack had learned my body far better than I’d learned his.

  I also took my time, but didn’t hesitate in revealing his body to me. I’d seen it many times before, and yet tonight it felt different to trace with my tongue the outline of the stylized sun on his lower belly. He kept his pubic hair trimmed short, and I nuzzled his skin as I breathed in his scent, purely male. His cock brushed my cheek and my hair tangled over it as I mouthed his tattoo. I gripped his ass and held him still as I licked and sucked and bit his stomach, hip and thigh, but I let him go and looked up at him without taking his erection into my mouth.

  “Tell me what you want.” It was the first time I’d ever asked.

  Jack passed a hand over my hair and down to caress my cheek briefly. He stroked his erection slowly a few times with my hair still wrapped around it in places. “Use your mouth on me. Please.”

  It wasn’t an unreasonable request, considering the times he’d done the same for me, but I liked the way he asked. I lifted a hand to smooth my hair off him, but didn’t take him into my mouth right away. I looked first. Really looked. I’d spent hours with him inside me, but had never really seen his prick up close.

  I studied the smooth, thin skin beneath which his blood pulsed. I slid my hand slowly down his length and cupped his balls, then moved up again and gripped his cock just below the head. Jack put his hand on my hair, but didn’t push me. His breathing got heavier, but he waited.

  I liked that, too.

  “Tell me something. Did you used to have…something?”

  He smoothed his hand over my hair. “Something like what?”

  “A…thing? Here?”

  “A Prince Albert?” Jack laughed, low. “Yeah. Got tired of it. Took it out. Why, do you like that?”

  “I don’t think so.” I studied his cock and saw something that might have been a small scar.

  “No. I like you the way you are now.”

  “Good.”

  When at last I dipped my head to close my lips around his cock, Jack groaned. Such a simple, basic noise of pleasure, but something tightened low in my gut. I closed my eyes when he murmured my name and I thought of Sam.

  I thought of Sam’s eyes and mouth and hands, of Sam’s impossibly long legs and the glint of his earring. Of his shaggy hair that begged for the taming of scissors and comb. I had another man’s cock in my mouth and my own hand between my legs, but it was Sam’s face that filled my mind. His voice, and the strum of his guitar as he sang a song that could only have been meant for me. I took Jack inside my mouth, and I knew something he didn’t.

  This would be the last time we fucked.

  I couldn’t afford this anymore. This was costing me too much, and not in dollars.

  He pushed forward into my mouth and I put a hand at the base of his cock to control his thrusting. Using hand and mouth in tandem, I sucked and stroked until his fingers tightened in my hair hard enough to hurt.

  I left his prick covered in the wetness from my mouth and looked up at him. Jack’s eyes had glazed and his mouth was lax from pleasure, but he smiled when he saw me looking.

  He didn’t ruin it with talking, just leaned in to kiss me. His tongue dived into my mouth.

  We ended up on the bed, flesh on flesh and limbs tangled. His hands roamed over me, dipping between my legs. I was already wet from my own touch, and he slipped one finger inside me, then up and over my clit.

  Sensation leaped through me, and Jack swallowed my gasp. His hand moved against me. I was almost there already, but he knew me well enough to know when to ease off. To tease.

  I let him lead us, to decide when we’d stop kissing and stroking and licking and actually start fucking. We kissed for a long, long time. Longer than we ever had when I was in charge. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d spent so long kissing and stroking without moving right into sex. High school, probably. We kissed for so long I thought I might come from the pressure of his tongue on mine alone, or the skid of his fingertips along my belly. He’d slid a leg between mine, my cunt pressed to his thigh, and I thought I might come from that, too.

  I didn’t look at the clock. I didn’t care about the time, though hours were passing. This was the last time, and I wanted to remember every moment of it. I wanted to make this as good for Jack as he’d been for me.

  In the midst of our foreplay we’d moved all over the bed. I don’t know when or from where Jack got the condom, but when he finally pressed it into my hand my hands shook too badly for me to put it on him. Desire and anticipation made me clumsy. So did another, deeper emotion, something like sad tenderness or tender sadness, or something not like that at all but indefinable.

  He took the packet from me and tore it open, kissing me as he put it on. Kissing me when he pushed me onto my back and parted my legs with one of his. Still kissing as he slid inside me with one, smooth thrust.

  My orgasm stuttered, struggling, and my body arched to meet his without my conscious effort. I’d reached incoherency, my thoughts reduced to flashes of raw need.