Shelby

The closer they got to his house, the faster he drove and more turns he took on almost two wheels, pushing the car with the monstrous, powerful engine toward his home, the more nervous she became. And the more excited she became.

Shelby mused, sitting in the passenger seat of his car, luscious leather hugging her hips, smooth jazz pouring out of the speakers and enveloping the car in a sexy, sultry aura, that there was never really any question that she was going to go home with him. Everything she wore, all of her pre-date preparations were for the explicit purpose of him seeing her and being with her in the most intimate way possible. It amused her that she'd even tried to pretend it wasn't happening... all the while she was shaving and pruning and sprucing, drinking juice and eating fruit and doing yoga for relaxation. Her skin was smooth and supple and lightly perfumed, on purpose. Her lingerie was thin and frilly and barely there, on purpose. Her mind was on the evening, her body preparing itself for pure enjoyment, on purpose.

JC slowed as he drove the small, two lane road through a neighborhood of upscale homes. The moon glowed in the sky above, bright and full, reflecting in the waters below. The lake itself was still, except for a ripple or two that sped along the surface and then lapped at the shore. Toward the end of the block on the slightly winding road, JC slowed further and turned into a driveway, waited for the door to slide open and then drove further into the garage. The light popped on automatically, as soon as the door opened, revealing a slightly messy collection of tools and garden utensils, and boxes stored above the garage space. Shelby wondered what was in them.

"So, we're here," JC said, opening his door and climbing out of the car. Shelby followed suit, meeting him at the door while he fumbled with his keys in the lock. "Nervous," he said simply, tossing back a grin at her, then finally inserting the key, twisting the knob and opening the door. An alarm beeped, twice. His thick fingers deftly punched a code into a keypad on the wall.

"This is it. This is home." With one arm he waved around the bright, spacious kitchen as they walked through it. Shelby noticed that she and JC had the same style and wood color of cabinets. The similarities ended there-her floors were ceramic tile and wood, his were laminate and the rest of the house seemed to be covered in wall to wall carpeting. His appliances were a pristine white, hers were stainless steel. And while his house backed up to a dock that led to Lake Virginia, she had a small pool and hot tub in her backyard off of the deck.

She followed him through the kitchen and down the hall, past a staircase and the front door and a formal sitting room. JC walked under the arch of a door way into a darkened room, and seconds later the room was illuminated with the soft glow of two lamps. A large sectional couch and two La-Z-Boy chairs filled the room and pointed toward a rather large flat screen mounted on the wall above a stone fireplace. The room was cozy and laid back, very comfortable. Shelby already felt at home, dropping onto the couch and sitting back, way back against the plush cushions.

"I'll be taking this couch home, if you don't mind."

"Nuh uh." JC was removing his button down shirt and his shoes, emptying his pockets onto a side table between the couch and a recliner. Wallet, keys, phone, breath mints. "Took me years to find this couch. It's so comfortable."

He picked up one of several remotes lined up on the table and turned on the TV. "Make yourself at home. Mi casa es su casa," he quipped, proud of the only Spanish phrase he could remember, at the moment. "I put some wine in the chiller earlier and I'm gonna pour myself a glass. Can I interest you in some? Or a beer, or some water, or whatever?"

"Wine would be great if it's red. If not a beer would be greater."

"It's red. Be right back, then." He ducked under the arch again, headed back toward the kitchen, and reappeared holding two wine glasses and two forks. "In case you want to eat your dessert," he said, nodding toward the two white boxes sitting in the center of the table.

They drank their wine, sip after sweet sip, and shared the chocolate torte, bite after sweet bite, and talked while VH1 Slow Jams crooned in the background. Slow, leisurely, relaxed--exactly as Shelby had requested. Things were calm, but not cold, their conversation lending to ebbs and flows of flirtation and romantic gestures and downright scintillation.

"Mmmm..." Shelby purred, licking the last bit of chocolate off of her fork and tossing it into the box. "That was delicious. Great suggestion, I'll have to remember The Dessert Lady."

"My pleasure. And I mean that. Watching you eat is amazing."

"What? Do I eat weird?"

"No, no. Not at all. You just...eat sexy. The way you lick your lips and sounds you make. It's a turn on."

"Is it, really? Or are you just horny?"

JC paused for a beat, blinked, and said, "Probably a little of both."

"Probably," Shelby agreed, with a giggle. "I can probably help you with that."

"Probably," JC mimicked, hoisting himself up and sliding over on the couch, right up next to her. "Are you okay? Is this... am I moving too fast?"

"Hmm mmm..." she hummed, turning toward him, tucking one leg under the other. "You're fine. You're just fine."

"Well then, get comfortable, honey. You're not going anywhere for awhile. Take your clothes off." He laughed, tapping her on the arm. "I mean... take your shoes off."

Shelby laughed, slipping off the low heeled pumps and setting them next to the couch, stretching her toes. "Shoes are off. Clothes to follow. In a minute."

"I think you should leave that to me."

"Done."

"I think you should let me kiss you. I bet you taste good. Like chocolate and wine."

"I bet I do."

"I think you should let me taste you. I bet you taste good, too."

"I bet I do."

"I think you should-"

"I think you should fucking kiss me already." Shelby grabbed his chin, cupped in the palm of her hand and pulled his head toward hers, mouth open and ready. His lips landed on hers with a muffled mmmph, and then a groan from deep in his throat as their tongues met in a hot, wet swirl. She whimpered and whined, the fire in her belly building again, streaks of white lightning ripping through her.

"Mmmm, you're good at that," she whispered, sitting up a little so she could get closer.

"I try," he mumbled, just before claiming her lips again. He reached for her, running a hand from her hip to her thigh, then hooking behind her knee and pulling her leg over his, further and further until she was right up against him. He turned on the couch, so she was on his lap, one leg on either side of him. She felt him, hard and hot and pressed right up against her. She almost teared up at the sensation, her hands shaking, finding it a little hard to breathe.

"I wish I could tell you how good you feel, up against me. How much I want to grind into you. Bad, really bad, that's how much."

"I can see it in your face. You don't have to hold back, with me. Let it go, if you want."

How kind of him to think she was afraid, or she was holding back and to try to comfort her. Neither assumption could be further from the truth.

"Not talking about pasts," she mumbled into his mouth, onto his lips. God, his mouth was awesome. "But I'm not wasting anything on a dry romp on the couch." She pulled back and grabbed his face, stared straight into his eyes. "I want you inside me, when I come."

He gulped. And then grinned. "Aw, shit. It's about to be on. You just... let me know when you want that."

"I wanted it yesterday. So take your time. There's more of me that I want you to see before we get there."

JC laughed, that sexy, dirty, throaty laugh. She loved it, especially when he was right up against her neck, and he was licking her skin and his breath was hot and goose bumps were flying. His hands were restless, moving along her body like they had A.D.D. and couldn't focus on one part of her, steadily moving from her back where the heat seared her skin through the sheer fabric, to the generous cheeks in tight jeans. They moved then, down over her hips and her thighs, down her legs to her feet tucked under her. She was a little ticklish, he found, making a game out of getting her to laugh while holding her mouth hostage.

Shelby was hot and getting hotter-not just turned on but sweating. "JC... my shirt. Take it off, please." She lifted her arms so he could pull it off. He smiled and brought them back down.

"No, no. I don't want to do it like that. You asked for slow. We're gonna take our time."

Shelby was starting to regret asking for that, but the regret faded as he ran his hands up her sides and over her chest, palming her breasts and squeezing them through the thin material. He groaned, his hips thrusting up under her a few times as he took his time exploring them, filling his hands with them. Her eyes slid closed, her arms hung limply, her head tilted back.

‘How have I gone so long without this? Without a man's hands on my body and lips on my skin? Fuck, I hope I'm not a one night stand. I need more of this. A lot more. And often.'

Shelby felt buttons being undone. One by one, the snaps on her blouse were being pulled apart, exposing more of her skin, revealing more of her bra of thin, wispy lace. The shirt pulled open when the last button was undone, and fell alongside her breasts. Hands were at her waist, holding her tight and then a long, wet streak licked between each breast. She moaned and shuddered, feeling her nipples rise further, straining against the lacy cup, and then yelped as she felt the pad of a thumb brush lightly across each of them. That was the magic touch for her. A little nipple play and something to rub up against was a one-two punch. She had to be careful, riding the line with caution. She wanted to enjoy herself but didn't want it to be over too soon. She wanted him, his hands on her, his lips on her, but more than anything, she wanted the hard mass of flesh and muscle, pressed right up against her to be driving hard inside her. She wanted him to feel her, what he was doing to her, feel her clench around him. Her thoughts were consumed with it-had been, all day.

Shelby would settle for nothing less.

JC

A vision of loveliness was before him. Sitting right in front of him. On him, actually. He could not be a happier boy, with two beautiful round breasts in his face, being held up by the tiniest bra he'd ever seen. They were spilling out of it, pretty much, and he felt like he needed to free them. So he did, reaching around to her back and unhooking the three clasps. The bra popped open and her breasts fell with a bounce that brought another twitch.

Shelby shrugged off the shirt, with the sexy tiger print and the bra, dropping them on to the couch. She smiled down at him, her eyes smoky and her skin flush, and scooted closer. Pressing right on him, right up against him. He was pretty sure she knew what she was doing. He wasn't sure he could get any harder but she was welcome to try and make it happen.

But first, he had some things he needed to do-nipples to lick and pull and tease and flick, skin to kiss and touch and taste and smell. Shelby made no secret of the fact that she was enjoying every second-writhing and moving against him, sighing and groaning and crying out, grabbing at his hair, the couch behind them, his shoulders, whatever she could hold on to.

"You're... gonna... make me... come..."  Shelby moaned loudly, gasping for air and thrusting her hips into him.

"I am. Just not right now," he answered, slowing his movements, just letting his tongue drag around each breast, and then around each nipple. "Sorry. I know you don't want it like this."

Shelby was panting, breathing hard, sweating. He needed to slow it down, pull it back. As much as he hated to, he had to get her off of his lap, otherwise he was going to grab her ass and press her into him and thrust his hips into her until she came. It was a good thing she said she didn't want that, or it would have already happened. He grabbed her by the hips and moved her to the side, pressing her gently so she laid down. She stretched out, lifting her arms above her, making the most delicious sounds, making her breasts lift and roll, the nipples jutting out. Tempting. So... tempting. Fuck, she was hot.

JC sat up, kneeling on the couch between her legs, and pulled his t-shirt off, flinging it away, and then leaned over her, lowering himself on top of her. Face to face, breasts to chest, belly to belly, they pressed and arched into one another. Her arms came to rest on his shoulders. Her legs wrapped themselves around him and again, he was pressed into her core. He felt the heat through the denim of her jeans. He couldn't wait to feel that from the inside.

"How we doin'?

Shelby smiled up at him, looking a little drunk. "We are having the time of our life, right now."

"We sure are. You feel good to me." He bent to kiss her, their lips touching in a sweet, airy kiss. "I want you. I want to be with you. I want to be inside you. But I don't want to hurt you, and I don't want to rush you. And I don't want you to feel like we have to do everything tonight. I'm hoping you'll want to do this again."

She laughed, running her fingers through his hair, then down his face, then down his neck and over his shoulders and back again. "We haven't even done anything and I want to do everything we've done, again. Over and over. And over."

"Mmmm... sounds good..." His lips found hers again, molded themselves to her mouth, played with her tongue, while her hands took their turn moving and feeling, grasping and squeezing. He was trying to keep his hips still, but the heat coming from her was almost unbearable. Every time he moved, he was rubbing up against her. Her hips responded and then his hips responded and then he was thrusting, and had to stop himself.

"What do you say we take this party upstairs? We can get comfortable. And get serious."

Shelby answered by sitting up, forcing him up, too. JC helped her up, after getting up himself, pushing her with the tips of his fingers out of the room and toward the stairs down the hall.

"You're not gonna carry me? I thought you were a gentleman."

"I could," he said, reaching for remote and pointing it at the TV. One punch of a button quieted the music. The house was very, very quiet, as he turned to follow her. "But it won't be romantic. I'll just toss you over my shoulder and we'll go Caveman style."

Shelby stopped and turned in front of him, a Cheshire cat grin across her lips, her arms raised. "Do it. I need to see you actually do that."

Never one to turn down a dare, he bent to her waist, wrapped his arm around her thighs and lifted her up and over his shoulder. She laughed and squealed and kicked her feet, and then he felt her lips on his back and her nails dragging along his skin. He laughed, climbing the entire staircase with her over his shoulder, past the few empty rooms to his bedroom. Cool and dark. He flipped a light switch and a single lamp at the bedside came on, giving the room a tiny bit of light, enough for him to see where to dump her onto the bed.

Giggling and out of breath, Shelby was already stretching out and backing up, making use of the space on the King sized bed. JC climbed up after her, laying next to her, catching his breath.

"You're heaving like I'm heavy. Killing the mood."

"I'm not heaving cause you're heavy," he said, reaching over her to flick at an erect nipple. "I'm just... trying to compose myself."

"Tell me about it," she said, rolling over and sitting up, and then straddling him.

"This is gonna get us in trouble."

"I know, I shouldn't be up here. You feel so good, though." She sucked in a breath through her teeth, her hands roaming her own body, cupping her breasts, her thumbs working her nipples, her hips slowly moving in tight, round circles. His hands joined hers, then moved hers away and he took over, kneading and flicking and pulling while she tossed her head back and moaned and mumbled things like ‘God, that feels so fucking good' and ‘Yeah, I like that.' JC liked hearing that. He wanted her to be happy. Very happy.

Shelby leaned forward, crawling up his body, until her breasts hung over him. "Lick them," she whispered. "Suck on them. I like that." Eager to please, he closed his mouth over one nipple and then the other and then moved back and forth, pulling squeals and shudders out of her until he just couldn't take it anymore.

He sat up and rolled them over, then rose to his knees, reaching for the button to her jeans. "These have to come off, or I'm gonna fuck a hole in them."

"Mmm, I might welcome that," she said, but laid back and let him unbutton and unzip her jeans, then lifted her hips so he could pull them off. Tiny black thong panties came with them, and were tossed onto the floor.

The light was dim, but JC could see enough to know she was beautiful. Her body was a work of art, exquisite in every way, every shape every form. Every curve of her hip and rise of her breast and roundness of... everything... fuck... was designed by some higher power, he was sure of it. She was not real. She was a figment of his imagination. Some perfect dream, some woman he had designed in his head. And yet she was real. And really there. He was really feeling her, really looking at her.  Really with her.

‘Yeah, coming back to Orlando was a really good idea.'

The scent coming off of her body was heady-a mix of perfume, something light and flowery, and her natural scent, a musky, fruity fragrance. The resulting scent was driving him out of his mind. He was ready. He hoped she was.

"One second, okay? I need to grab... something."

JC had thought this through, earlier. Even if nothing happened between them, he'd want to be ready anyway, just in case. He hadn't had sex in so long he didn't even know if he'd packed condoms, so a quick run to the store-after he called her to make sure the date was on-was in order. He'd picked up a bottle of wine and a package of condoms. The wine went into the chiller, the condoms into the bottom drawer of his nightstand.

He pulled the drawer open now to fish them out, a couple of them, because you never know what might pop off, literally. He tossed both packages onto the table and unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, letting them fall off of his legs and onto the ground. A tug brought down his briefs, his dick bouncing with his movement, rigid and pointing to the sky.

He glanced up at Shelby, stretched out on the bed, watching him, her mouth open, a hand between her legs, fingers moving slowly.

"Hey, hey, over there. Don't start without me."

"I'm not," she said softly. "I'm just keeping it warm for you." 

He chuckled, picking up a small square package and ripping it open, extracting the latex ring and sheath, rolling it on, down the thick column of muscle. It was impressive, if he had to say so, himself. He knew there were rumors and legends, lots of tongues wagging about the size and girth and shape. He was flattered by most of it-he was quite fond of it, himself. Some of the girls talking so much about it in so much detail though, had never even seen it. Well, not really, not in person and not up close and most certainly had never felt it, had never rubbed on it, had never held it in their hands. Or their mouths. He wasn't that kind of guy. Not exactly.

"So...I never met a guy that could actually fill a Magnum, before."

"Well, honey... now you have." He tossed the wrapper onto the table and glanced at her again, allowing himself a cocky bob to his head. "You want the light on or off?"

"On. I want to see you."

‘Holy fuck. Where has this girl been all my life?"

Shelby

Things were moving along perfectly, more perfectly than she'd even imagined, and she had imagined. Most of the day had been spent daydreaming about what might happen, what could happen. What it would feel like. What he would look like. How it would sound. How he would taste. And now the moment was here, the anticipation driving her wild as he climbed back onto the bed, and between her legs, flicking her fingers away, devilish smile on his lips.

JC laid down in front of her, his face so close to her that she could feel his breath on her thighs as he kissed the delicate skin there. Slowly he moved his head back and forth, kissing one side and then the other, making his way up higher and higher and until his lips were on hers and his tongue was flicking out, licking long, slow strokes. Up and then down, and then up and back down, again, avoiding her clit until the last possible second, and then sucking it into his mouth, flicking it with his tongue, moaning and staring up at her.

Shelby could hardly stay still, and most certainly couldn't keep her mouth closed, almost screaming,  bucking her hips, pressing one palm against the headboard of the bed, the fingers of her other hand deep in his hair.

"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhmygodohmygodohmygod... Fuck yeah!"

"Mmmm?" He seemed to ask the question with his eyebrows, while his mouth was still suctioned to her, adding a thick finger sliding slowly in and out.

"Mmmm!" she responded, her hips off of the bed, dangerously close to falling over the edge. She moved her hand from his hair to his forehead, pushing him back. "Stop! I'm gonna come, if you don't stop!"

Suddenly his lips were gone, his tongue was gone, his finger was gone. Then she felt his lips again, making their way up her body, over the mound, up her belly, taking a leisurely lick at one nipple and then the other, until they were face to face.

"Are you ready?" Shelby nodded, grabbing his face bringing him down to her lips, raising her hips to him to pull him inside, reaching around him to push him into her. She broke the kiss just to sigh into his mouth and let out a little yelp, smiling all the way through it.

This... felt familiar.  Yeah. She remembered sex. That act you did with people you loved, or at least were attracted to, except this is what it was supposed to feel like. You were supposed to enjoy it. You were supposed to feel like slamming yourself against the person you were with until your body exploded into a million pieces and you had no breath or voice left. Now, she remembered.

He felt delicious. There was just no other word to describe it. He was beautiful, his body was perfect-thin but muscular, great chest, just enough hair, flat belly and a six pack of rock solid abs. A little pale, for her taste, but that was nothing that a day in the sun couldn't fix. Having sex with him, though? After spending the day dreaming about it, the daydream was no comparison. It was delicious and delightful and decadent and damn! All other words that started with ‘d' that she could think of, he was it.

He was moving slow, thrusting carefully, sinking deeper, watching her. Her hips matched his movements, pulling him in, stretching her. Her legs spread wider, her head rolled back, her eyes slid closed and she gave herself over, a long, low moan curling out of her. JC chuckled against her neck as his hips worked, faster and with more force.  

"Ahhhhhhh...shit..." Shelby moaned, her hips moving in time with his, striking a rhythm. "You feel good. I'm not gonna last long. Mmmmmmm!"

"Just let go whenever you want. This is for you."

Shelby smiled, her cries growing louder, timed with his movements and her movements and their movements together. "I think...... I'm gonna......come......hard! Hmmmmmmm!"

A forgotten, coveted, welcome feeling began to well up on the inside of her, a feeling she hadn't felt in a very long time. Shelby hissed and moaned and grunted his name over and over, into his ear, against his skin, into the air as he pushed into her and she thrust back, through the intense clench, the pulsing, the liquid white hot searing through her, curling her toes and taking her breath away. JC kept moving above her, grunting words and phrases she didn't understand but she guessed meant he was close to his own climax, forcing the bed up against the wall in a strong, loud rhythm.

"Fuck!....... comin'..." was all she heard before his hips went wild against her and his hands gripped her tightly, and he let out a final long, loud grunt, panting and heaving and finally collapsing on top of her. With his last bit of strength it seemed, he rolled to the side, onto his back, his breathing so heavy it was frightening.

Shelby laid next to him, unable to stop the grin from spreading across her face. It came from inside her, deep inside, from a part of her that she thought was dormant and long dead. Not anymore. JC had awakened something in her. Brought something to life, more like it. She never wanted it to die, never wanted to go without it, again.  

JC

He couldn't catch his breath. JC laid on his back, an elbow over his face, panting into the air, thick with the smell of sex. Two bodies becoming one, sweat mingling and mixing together to form a perfectly sensual, aromatic perfume. He loved the smell of sex. He loved the feeling of sex. He loved having sex. He loved having sex with Shelby. He fucked her, like he wanted to. Like he said he would. And it was so fucking good, better than he thought it would be, and in his mind, it was damn good.

Shelby. Oh, yeah. Shelby. He lowered his arm and rolled his head toward her. She laid on her back, sucking down gulps of air, staring at the ceiling, smiling ear to ear. He liked to see that. He wanted her to be happy. Very happy.

"So that was good for you, then?"

She turned her head, still smiling, her brown eyes sparkling and happy when he looked into them. It made him smile. He was such a chump, sometimes. Made weak by the smile of a woman.

"It was awesome for me," she said, her voice ragged, adding to the already sexy tone of her natural voice. JC had a feeling that round two would be on the way soon. Or at least he hoped.

"Can I get you some water or something? You sound a little rough."

She nodded, clearing her throat a few times. "Water would be nice."

JC sat up and rolled off of the bed, headed down the stairs where he pulled two bottles of water from the fridge and went back up. Shelby was sitting up when he came back, cross legged in the middle of the bed, staring at the large screen TV on the wall, but it wasn't on.

"You think if you wiggle your nose, it'll come on? Or do you want the remote? Do you want to watch something?"

"Not really. Just looking at it. I have a TV in my bedroom, but I think I'd like to get a flat screen and wall mount it. Just wondering if that would work."

He handed her a bottle of water and climbed back onto the bed, piling up pillows and pulling her next to him. She sucked down half the bottle and set it on the table next to them. She stretched, her muscles pulling tight, scooted herself up against him, laying half off, half on him. His arm came around her, his hand cupping a cheek as he sipped on his water.

"That was good. Real good. I enjoyed that."

"Mmmhhhmmmm," she purred, her head nodding against him, her body pressing closer to him. She felt good, nice and soft, but toned, too. She fit perfectly, right up against him. And around him, too.

"So, I think you should invite me over, to check out that TV situation. I can hang it for you, I mean. And then we can lay in your bed and watch it."

Her voice was hollow, since her face was pressed against him. "We'd better be doing more than laying there. I think it would be watching us, probably."

"Probably."

"At least I hope," she said, tipping her head up so she could see his face. She was cute. Like she had to ask-he already said he hoped she'd want to see him again, and do this again. The first sex always seemed kind of clumsy and clunky. It always got better, after that, after a couple learned the ins and outs and who liked what and what felt good and what made them yelp or scream or moan. As good as this first sex was, he was looking forward to even better.

"Let me know when you have it. I can come see you and take care of it. And you." He gave a slap to her ass and grinned.

She chuckled, a low, sexy, sultry laugh.  

‘Fuck, yeah.  Kim who?'

Shelby

If Shelby thought a night of passionate, sweaty sex would make her tired enough to sleep, she had another think coming. The first session should have been enough to knock them both out, but the excitement of first time sex with someone new was running rampant, and a few minutes after they stopped, they were going again.

The second session was even more electric and amazing and mind-blowing than the first, because it was slower. JC took his time, making sure to kiss every inch of her body, exploring her back to front. Shelby took her time with him, soaking in every inch of him, head to toe, from several angles. By the time they collapsed against each other again, out of breath and extremely satisfied, JC was delirious and passed out in the middle of a sentence. Shelby snuggled against him, on his chest, listened to his heartbeat and tried to fall asleep. As usual, sleep eluded her.

It was a different guilt, this time. This was guilt that she enjoyed the night, the entire night, because it was so different than anything had ever been, before. She enjoyed JC because he was young and virile and handsome and she had things in common with him. He was sexy, and he turned her on like no one else ever had-including a man she had been engaged to marry.  This was guilt that she more enjoyed advances from this pop star who might not remember her name in three months than a man that had opened his life, his home, his bank account, his heart to her-and she didn't want it, and she couldn't pretend to want it, anymore. She couldn't make herself love him. It broke her heart to realize it, and to tell him. And to break his heart. It wasn't even that she wasn't in love with him...she didn't love him at all.

Shelby laid in the bed, a bed that wasn't hers, next to a man she didn't really know, in the dark, staring at the walls, watching the shadows crawl across the ceiling as night turned to twilight and then to dawn. JC was sleeping, still on his back, spread eagle across the bed, snoring lightly. Slowly and quietly, she slipped out from between the sheets and tip toed toward the closet, looking for a robe or a shirt or... something she could put on. JC had more t-shirts than anyone she'd ever met. Hoping she wasn't picking out any a favorite that he was possessive over, she pulled one from the stacks and put it on, then crept out of the closet and past the bed, and out of the bedroom, pulling the door closed behind her.

Down the stairs she went, without making a sound, to the kitchen, snapping on the light. One by one, the fluorescent bulbs burned, lighting up the kitchen, showing off the stark white appliances and empty countertops. That he kept his kitchen this clean only meant one of two things-either he was more of a neat freak than she was, or he didn't use this room at all. She leaned heavily toward the latter.

Yawning, she searched cabinets, looking for coffee, and cream and sugar. Surprisingly, she found an unopened cube of Folgers in the cabinet, milk in the fridge and sugar in a canister. At least he had the basics. In a few minutes, the 12 cup coffeemaker was bubbling and steaming and the aromatic fragrance of coffee filled the kitchen. Looking through more cabinets, she found a mug and a spoon, and stood at the counter, tapping her fingers, watching the dark liquid drip and collect in the glass carafe, until no more dripped and the machine stopped bubbling and sighing.  She poured a cup, added milk and sugar, stirred, and took the first sip. Mmmm... warm and soothing. She actually hadn't had coffee in awhile.

Shelby and her coffee padded through the kitchen, past the staircase, back to the den. She smiled the collection of clothing and shoes around the room, remembering the moment her shirt and bra were flung haphazardly to one end of the couch. She gathered them up, folding them and setting them next to her purse, and then slid into one corner of the couch, curled up toward the window, watching the sunrise over the Lake. 

She'd almost bought a home in this area, but something kept her from buying something too big and ostentatious. She wasn't rich because she'd worked hard for it, fingers to the bone, blood, sweat and tears and all that. She hadn't even written a bunch of songs, worked her way up from obscurity, and lived a life on the road in a bus for years on end, to deserve a home as nice as the one she was sitting in.

Nope, she fucked a rich man for 3 years, let him spoil her, take care of her, satisfy every need but the most important ones, and then broke his heart, and then killed him. She was a model citizen.

Well, she hadn't really killed him. But couldn't help feeling like she had, especially when everyone else - defined as his family and friends and colleagues-felt she had. By that time, she was so deep in Lucas Samuels and getting married and playing the part that she had long alienated friends, and almost pushed her parents to the edge. After the accident, she had no one. After the funeral and the distribution of funds from his estate (which his family fought every step of the way, relenting when they realized she was suing the tire manufacturer and stood to receive proceeds that far outweighed the sum he'd left her), she had managed to patch things up with her parents, but everyone else avoided her.

Lucas' ex-wife and children had been nearly friendly to her during the settlement negotiation until they learned that she had no intention of sharing the wealth. Why should she? Lucas had left them millions in cash and stocks. He left them homes and cars, a thriving global Real Estate practice, and trust funds for their children. He'd provided for their futures. They had enough money. She was regular people, from regular stock, with a regular pedigree. All she needed was enough money to get away and to disappear. The generous gift from his will and the lawsuit settlement made that happen. The money rolled in, and Shelby rolled out.

That wasn't when the insomnia began, but it was when it worsened. Shelby almost never slept; she just caught cat naps here and there. If she could sleep, it never lasted very long and she never slept very deeply, and hardly ever felt rested. Every few months, she could get into bed and sleep deep and hard. That usually only came after a few therapy sessions-but reliving the past, the memories and the guilt and the pain was harder than not sleeping, so she went very infrequently.

It might be time to find another therapist, and have some sessions. The lack of rest was killing her.

Shelby sipped her coffee and watched the dawn turn to morning, the sun rise over the lake in a gorgeous orange ball and climb higher in the sky. JC's house was peaceful and quiet, the neighborhood not overrun with loud neighbors and goings on. Her stomach rumbled-she hadn't had anything real to eat since the plateful of food she'd managed to get down before leaving to meet JC. And then there was the torte and the wine, long since burned off. She got up again, needing to refill her coffee cup anyway, heading back to the kitchen.  He'd certainly done enough grocery shopping, he was sure to have food somewhere in the kitchen.

JC

Bacon. Coffee. Toast. Did he smell toast? Why would he be smelling toast?

JC sat up, still half asleep but curious about the smell of food wafting through the room. A glance around the bed, at his jeans and her jeans and a lovely lacy thong at the foot of the bed jogged his memory and he smiled. Remembering. That's right; they'd left her car at Antigua. Shelby was still there. She must have got up and decided to make breakfast. You know, to thank him for all the amazing sex. Hell if he had a problem with that.

He untangled himself from the sheets, thinking he hadn't remembered her sleeping next to him. Not that he would have remembered much, the way he passed out, but usually girls kicking and tossing and turning and snoring and insisting on laying all over him woke him up or kept him from sleeping. And that was why he usually showed them the door, after sex. It didn't mean he didn't have a good time. It didn't mean he didn't cherish the time spent with whatever her name was. It just meant that his sleep was important to him. He didn't like it messed with. So, out, they went.

JC wondered what she was wearing, since he was picking her jeans up off the floor, along with his own and tossing them across the foot of the unmade bed. He stumbled to his closet and pulled open a drawer, grabbing a random shirt and pair of sweat pants and pulling them on.

The scent of coffee was strong as he made his way down the stairs. It smelled good with the scent of food alongside it. He rubbed his belly in anticipation and walked down the hall toward the kitchen, stopping at the doorway, leaning against it, watching her.

There was food, on plates on the counter. Coffee made, a full carafe. Sugar and milk out. She was at the sink, washing the pots and pans she had used, and then wiping down the stove and counter. The question of what she was wearing was answered-she looked great in his Moby t-shirt and nothing else. He watched her for a few minutes, that incredible ass moving around the kitchen in his shirt, her hair wavy from sweat and sleep, her great legs and tiny feet in his kitchen. She kind of fit in, there.

"Just so you know, you're never allowed to leave," he finally said. Startled, she whipped around, her eyes wide, hand over her chest.

"Jesus!" She laughed, heaving dramatically. "You scared me! How long have you been there?"

"A little while." He moved from the doorway and shuffled into the room, his arms open. "I was just watching you. Sorry, didn't mean to scare you." She stepped into his arms, sliding her own arms around his waist, laying her head on his chest. He hugged her, his hands roaming her back, and further down and then up under the t-shirt. He was twitching again. He felt another session coming on before he took her to her car. "You feel good this morning."

"I'm glad you feel that way. And also glad you're awake. Are you hungry?"

"Honey, I can always eat. Food woke me up. Before we get to that, though..." He tipped her head up with his index finger and kissed her, nice and slow, taking his time, stroking her tongue with every bit of sensuality he could muster up before noon. She stepped into him, wrapping an arm around his neck, lifting herself onto her tiptoes to get closer. "Mmmmm...." He hummed, pulling away, finding her eyes, staring into them. "Nice. I like that."

"Me too," she said, blissful smile on her lips. "Let's eat. And then maybe..."

JC laughed, releasing her, letting her lead him around to the other side of the counter, to the stools stored underneath. "We're on the same wavelength. Going in the same direction. On the same boat."

He sat, watching her serve him, pour him a cup of coffee, set out milk and sugar before she sat next to him and served herself. "Did you sleep?"

"No," she answered plainly, biting into the edge of a piece of toast. "I felt like I might wake you up, so I got up around 4. Maybe 5. I can't remember. Made coffee, watched the sunrise."

"Mmm," he said, nodding, shoveling eggs into his mouth. He was hungrier than he'd thought he was. "Yeah, it's nice out here in the mornings. So you didn't sleep at all?"

"Not a wink. Tried, but I couldn't fall asleep."

"Hmmm," he mused, then smiled while sucking a piece of toast off of his thumb. "You wore me out. Sorry I passed out."

"I'm not mad at you. I kind of take it as a compliment. I mean, I'm tired. And I'm sleepy. I just... don't sleep. I don't know." She shook her head, moving food around on her plate, letting the fork clang against it as she dropped it, her head falling into the palm of her hand.

"Aw, honey, I'm sorry. I feel like an ass-"

"Oh, don't. God, I'm sorry. I don't mean to make you feel guilty-"

"No... Shelby, I asked. Don't apologize."

She must have run out of arguments. Or steam. She sat next to him, staring off into the distance, saying nothing more, so he went back to his breakfast. A few moments later, she went back to hers, sipped her coffee, sat in silence. It was peaceful, except that something was obviously bothering her. He wished he could get her to tell him what it was.

"Come here." JC twisted in the seat and stood, tossing a used napkin onto his empty plate, wiped clean. "Are you done? Come here." He pulled her arm until she stood, too, and led her by the hand back to the den. "Let's just hang out. Relax in here for a little bit. You're not in a hurry to go home, are you?"

She shook her head, smiling a little, cuddled up next to him on the couch, both of his arms around her. Her eyelids looked so heavy and she was yawning and quiet. Maybe if they got warm and comfortable and watched some movies, she could sleep a little bit. He was already up for a nap.

Shelby

She wasn't sure if it was the warm coffee, or the food, or the sex, or being close to JC, or the combination of all of the above, but one moment Shelby was staring at the images on the TV, knowing full well she wouldn't sleep and the next minute she was waking up. When her eyes popped open, she was curled up with her back to the cushions, a thin blanket over her, and the TV off. She heard movement in the house but it was relatively silent around her.

Shelby was surprised she'd been able to sleep in a house that wasn't hers, on a couch no less, but she supposed it caught up with her, eventually. She actually felt rested and alert and grateful for a few short hours of dreamless, peaceful sleep.

She sat up, stretching, gathering the blanket around her and folding it. She noticed JC's shoes from the night before were gone, as was his shirt. Her shoes had been placed neatly under the side table near her purse and blouse and bra. The to-go containers, forks, and wine glasses from the night before were gone, and the room was back to ‘magazine shoot' clean.  A check of the kitchen revealed the same. Every dish was put away, the coffeepot emptied and wiped clean, every countertop void of food or gadget or dish. Maybe he did actually use the kitchen, and was an incredible neat freak.

She climbed the stairs, headed toward the bedroom where the ‘noise' seemed to be coming from. The bed was made, her jeans folded in a neat square and sitting on top of the cotton comforter.

"Hey," she said softly, stepping into the room and peeking around the corner. JC's head poked out of the walk-in closet-mostly just his hair and eyes.

"Hi. You didn't sleep long. Couple of hours."

"I never do. But I feel okay. It was good sleep, actually.  Was I cranky?"

His head disappeared back into the closet, but his voice carried from inside it. Shelby sat on the edge of the bed, careful not to ruin his perfect bed making job. He was kind of a neat freak. It was amusing. "Not all. You just seemed like you could use a nap. Glad you feel better."

"Thanks. So... I should probably go. Get out of your hair."

He stepped out of the closet, flipping the light switch off. With not nearly as much care to his bed making job, he flopped beside her, stretching out, crossing one ankle over the other. "You don't have to rush off. I'm not throwing you out, or anything."

"I know... I just would rather leave before you want me to. It's one of those rules that girls live by-leave them wanting more. Or some shit like that."

JC was staring, his eyes an intense and piercing blue. "Rules like that were made to be broken."

Shelby blushed. He didn't want her to leave. She kind of didn't want to. But really felt she should. "You flatter me."

"No flattery about it. I had fun last night, from the second you walked into that club until right this very minute. I like you."

He was spoiling her, with all this attention. More than she really expected. She half expected to have been set on the doorstep around 3am to wait for a taxi, greeted with nothing but a wave and a smile and a ‘thank you honey, be safe' and a door closing in her face. She most certainly didn't expect to still be at his house at 11am. In his t-shirt. And nothing else.

"I like you, too," she said, shuffling her feet along the soft carpet. "And I had a lot of fun, too."

"So?" He grinned, grabbing her hand, breaking into song. ‘I know you wanna leave me. But I refuse to let you go. If I have to beg, plead for your sympathy, I don't mind, ‘cause you mean that much to me.... Ain't too proud to beg...'

Shelby laughed, swooning on the inside at his voice, having never really heard him sing. The smooth, silky sound did something to her insides, from the tip of her toes to the crown of her head. She was feeling warm, and more than a little persuaded, now. "Well, so... don't you have to work, or something?"

He nodded. "Rehearsal at 4 o'clock. That gives us..."  He rolled his eyes over to the corner, but nothing was there. "I used to have a clock radio right there. What the hell time is it?"

"Almost noon."

He wiggled his brows at her and grinned a sneaky, sultry grin. "That gives us at least three hours. Two and a half, if I'm showering. Which, if I have my way, I'm gonna need to."

She fought a smile, a knowing one, but didn't fight the stirring in her belly or the hardening  of her nipples or the spreading warmth in her belly and between her thighs. Nor did she fight the gentle pulling on her hand, bringing her closer to him until she was laying next to him on the bed, and he was leaning over her, a hand under the t-shirt, exploring the soft skin beneath it. JC's hands felt incredible, gliding lightly over her.

"You're very persuasive."

"It's a hidden power. Most people think my best asset is my voice. Little do they know..." He kissed her as she laughed, his lips brushing over hers, his tongue licking and flicking at hers, his throat emitting humming, happy sounds. His thumbs found taut nipples, ready to be pulled and flicked and sucked until they were puffy and an angry pink. Shelby responded to the bolt of lightning that shot down her back with a jerk of her hips up off of the bed.

She fought him off for a few seconds and sat up. "I hate to mess up this pretty room you just cleaned up, but this t-shirt has to come off."

"Do it. Just... fling it. It'll give me something to remember later when I'm cleaning up."  The shirt came up and over her head and was flung somewhere in the direction of the closet. "Good enough. Come here," he said, grabbing at her waist.

"Nuh uh. Your turn," she said, a tease in her voice and a smile on her lips. That nap had done her a world of good. Suddenly she was energetic and in a very good mood, and ready to work off all of her rest. JC complied and the clothes he was wearing were flung near the t-shirt, just outside of the closet.

In the daylight, Shelby could see more of him and feel more of him. In the daylight, she noticed his hair was graying a little, at the temples. That his earlobes were enormous, which was funny to her. That his arms and hands were veiny. That he had a scent, and that scent was seductive and manly and excited her more than any cologne ever could. And that, on closer inspection, he was thick and long and perfect, the color of coffee with a few touches of cream, and in the daylight, incredibly more tempting. The night before had clearly been about her. In the limited time she had, the morning would be about him.

She pressed her hand against his chest, grinning back at the smile on his face, pushing him back against the pillows. "There's something I didn't get a chance to do last night, and I'm not leaving until I do it. So just lay back and enjoy it."