Blackmailed Into Bed (7 page)

Jake pushed against her. "Your rule. What
about my rule? Who the fuck is Coach Guidry and why the hell does
he have your number?"

Amy was startled. She needed to teach Kayla
some discretion. "He's the soccer coach at the high school and he's
Kayla's social studies teacher. We met at convocation and then
again at the first parent-teacher conference. It's nothing. It's no
big deal."

Jake growled. "Stay the fuck away from him
Amy. Don't take his goddamn calls anymore. He just wants to get in
your pants, I can promise you that. He's a no good son of a bitch
to be hitting on one of his student's mothers." His fingers bit
into her hips.

Amy was shocked at the vitriol spilling from
him. And sort of thrilled. She placed her hands on his chest and
rubbed in a soothing motion. "I'm not interested in him, Jake." She
reached up and whispered a kiss onto his mouth. "It's just you.
There's nobody else." Her lips parted and she took his bottom lip
into her mouth. "Do you want me to show you?" She looked up through
her lashed into his eyes.

He was looking at her with possessive force
in his gaze.

She slid her hands between them to his fly.
She rubbed him through the stiff material. Licked his bottom lip
again. She started on his zipper and quickly released his straining
erection. She wrapped her hand around him. He hissed in oxygen at
her touch. She sank to her knees in front of him and set out to
prove that he was the only one.

After Amy dropped Kayla off at the airport on
Friday night, she drove straight to Jake's house. It was a month
ago today that they had started their affair. She parked in his
driveway, next to his truck. He opened the backdoor before she
could even knock.

"Hey, babe." Jake pulled her inside and
kissed her quickly on the lips. He took her bags from her and
dropped them on the table. "Got everything you need?" He walked
around to the stove and stirred something that simmered there.

"Yes. I think so." Amy wasn't sure about
this. He had planned for her to stay the weekend. They hadn't even
spent a night together yet. Sometimes she had the sense that he
would swallow her whole if she let him.

"Are you hungry? I haven't eaten yet. Make
yourself at home, babe." He opened the refrigerator and started
rummaging around inside. He pulled out stuff for a salad and a loaf
of French bread.

Now she knew what to do. She was nothing if
she wasn't a good cook. "Where's a bowl?" He pointed up and she
opened the cabinet and took out what she needed. For two people who
had never even shared a meal before, they worked in companionable
silence.

Soon, they were sitting together with the
remains of the spaghetti dinner between them. A bottle of red wine
sat between them, almost empty. She swirled her glass around and
enjoyed the soft warmth flowing through her veins. She softly
smiled at him. "You're a good cook. Where'd you learn?"

Jake leaned over and kissed her softly. He
lifted his lips. "Well, a man's got to eat, sweetheart." He topped
up her wine. "I guess I've always known the basics. Mom taught the
girls and made me watch most of the time. I used to get mad when
she made me come inside, but I guess that I actually learned
something. It's not Cordon Bleu, but I probably won't ever
starve."

He stood up and picked up their plates. "Come
here, and I'll show you something else she taught me." Amy picked
up the utensils and followed him over to the counter. She watched
him open the dishwasher. He slipped the two plates in. She slipped
in the utensils and then he closed the door. "Dishes are done."

Amy looked around in surprise and laughed.
"They sure are. That's amazing."

"Yeah, her first rule was that you clean up
while you are cooking. It works every time." He grabbed the wine
and glasses and strolled through to the living room.

She teased him as she followed him in. "I
would love to meet the Goddess of domestic tranquility that taught
you all these wonderful things." She curled up beside him.

"Anytime, sweetheart. My mother would love
you. In fact, we can reserve tickets for next month." He paused and
waited for the argument that would come. He wasn't wrong.

"Jake. I was teasing. You know I can't meet
your parents. That would be--that would be--"

Jake frowned. "That would be too much like a
relationship. You don't want that."

"You don't want it either, you know you
don't--"

"Like hell I don't. Why wouldn't I? I'm too
old to keep sneaking around. I've got nothing to hide. I'm not
cheating on anybody. I'm not hurting anybody. You're the one that
has a problem with me. Too damn bad I'm not a soccer coach." His
voice was sharp.

"Jake, don't. Don't say that. We're just
having fun. You said so yourself. No relationship. No
commitment--"

"Bullshit. No commitment, my ass. We've had a
commitment since the second night together, and you damn well know
it. Do you think something bad will happen to me if you come out
and admit you're mine? Do you think you will jinx it or something?
Babe, what's going to happen is going to happen. If something
tragic did happen, do you think you would miss me more if your
friends knew we were together?"

Amy was stunned. The first time they had time
to really talk, and all this came out. "No, but Kayla--"

He grimaced. "Kayla's in high school. She
wants you to have a boyfriend. She doesn't seem to have a problem
with cops. She would handle it just fine." He set his wineglass
down and put his hands on her shoulders. "I want you. You're
already mine. Don't deny it. I want everyone to know. I want to be
able to go eat at restaurants. Go shopping together. Sleep together
in the same house. I want you to be able to tell that damn coach
why you won't go out with him."

Amy's eyes were suddenly swimming in tears.
She shook her head. "I knew this would happen." She reached out and
punched his shoulder, but it didn't have any strength behind it. "I
knew this would happen the minute you walked in my classroom, damn
you." She shuddered and a tear slid down her cheek.

Her tears hit Jake in the guts. He knew he
could force her on this, but couldn't stand to see her so sad. He
folded her in his arms. "Never mind. Just never mind, babe. Don't
worry about it. Don't think about it. Just stay with me this
weekend. We'll hide out here and no one will know." He tipped her
face to his. "Just you and me. Just promise me that you're mine.
Only mine."

Amy wiped her eyes. "I promise," she
whispered.

What followed was the most sensual journey
that they had ever taken. Jake removed their clothing one piece at
a time, as if in slow motion. Buttons were loosened, one by one.
Straps were removed, and snaps were unhooked. Feather soft kisses
rained her face, her neck and her throat.

There was no hurry. They lay together, side
by side, on his big couch. Soft touches of her skin, sips of her
lips. Her skin was like silk, and he felt her touch all the way to
his soul. Her body was his temple, and he worshipped it the only
way he knew how.

Amy felt the difference in his touch this
night, and was shattered by it. If she hadn't been falling in love
with him before, she was now. He was worshipping not just her body,
but her heart and soul, too.

When he entered her, it wasn't with a driving
force toward orgasm. It was slow and gentle, their eyes entwined
and their movements coordinated. "You're mine." His voice was
deep.

Amy moved her hand to his cheek. "Yes." Her
eyes were glazed with passion.

"You only sleep with me." He pushed in
harder. She gasped.

"Yes," she panted.

"You only come for me." He lifted one of her
legs and draped it over his arm. She was completely open to him and
had no control over the depth of his thrusts.

"Yes, Jake." She felt the wave building.

"Don't forget it, Amy. You're mine. Forever."
He tipped her up and slammed back inside. Amy splintered into a
thousand different pieces as she fell over the edge.

They made love twice more during the night.
Both times, he was gentle. It was like he had found a new way to
vanquish her. Amy had no armor against it.

She was quickly losing this battle.

****

They spent the rest of the weekend doing
inconsequential things. They drove to the coast and walked on the
beach. The wind was sharp, and he held her close beside him and
they strolled hand in hand. Then they had supper in a small town on
the way back. All day, he wanted contact with her. Demanded it from
her. He held her hand, or touched her shoulder, or put his arms
around her. Amy luxuriated in the freedom of the time spent with
him, and the new closeness they were sharing.

And they made love often. In the bed. In the
living room. In the shower.

On Sunday, Amy didn't want to go home, and it
was obvious that Jake didn't want her to leave. He became like the
proverbial lion with the thorn in his paw. He scowled constantly.
He snapped at her. He slammed doors. He became like a rabid dog
that turned on his master.

Finally, she had enough. "Do you just want me
to go now? I don't have to stay here until I go to the airport. I
can easily leave now."

It was the wrong thing to say. She watched a
look come over his face that almost scared her. The blood rose to
his cheeks and he actually bared his teeth. The shift in his
features was riveting. Amy was so intrigued she forgot to move. She
waited too long, and he was in front of her.

"Say that again." He reached out and clasped
a wrist in his hand.

"Jake, I--, I think you're behaving
b-badly--"

He cut her off. "Behaving badly. You think
I'm behaving badly." He reached down and took her other wrist.

Her stomach clenched. "Y-yes. You're acting
very spoiled." He pushed his body to hers. She felt his erection
between them. She backed up a step.

He followed her until he had her against the
wall. He raised her arms above her head and pinned them to the
wall. His body caged hers. "I'm spoiled and behaving badly."

"Y-yes, you are." She stared up at him.

"You want to see spoiled, babe?" He
transferred both of her wrists so that he was holding them with one
hand, then he put his other hand between them and opened his fly.
He adjusted his clothing and his bulging penis was pushing against
her. He looked down at her wide eyes. "Answer me."

Amy nodded her head in fascination. She could
feel the wetness between her thighs. He was so awesome when he was
out of control.

At her nod of confirmation, Jake reached
underneath her short skirt and ripped her panties off. He lifted
her tee-shirt up, and unclipped her bra. He carried her over to the
back of the couch, then flipped her over until her hands were
grasping the back of the sofa. He lifted her, spread her legs
completely and slammed into her from behind.

Amy sucked in her breath and saw stars. He
reached down between them and forcibly manipulated her clit. He
growled at her. "I want you to come. I want you to come for me. I
want you to come on my cock and know that you will never, ever have
another man inside you again. You're my woman. The sooner you
realize it, the better it will be for you." He pushed in and pulled
out. Over. And again. Short, stabbing strokes.

"Mine. Say it."

"Y-yes. Yours." Amy undulated in time with
his strokes. She was about to go over.

Jake gritted his teeth and strained for
control. He wanted her. Everything she had to give.

"My woman. My lover. My partner. You'll give
in to me sooner or later." He felt her internal muscles grab him
and milk him. She started screaming with her orgasm. "Yes, babe. I
want everything from you. Everything. Every--Ahhh" He groaned as
his own orgasm took over.

That night, after her daughter was asleep,
Amy picked up the phone and called her mother. It was one of those
times. One of those times that only her mother could help. Even
though Amy was a grown woman of thirty-seven, sometimes she just
needed her mother's voice.

This was one of those times.

Her mother picked up on the second ring, and
got straight to the point. "Amy? Are you okay? Is something wrong
baby?"

Amy felt the soothing sound of her mother's
voice flow through her. Even though Amy had lost her father at a
young age, she had been blessed with a wonderful mother. It had the
power to choke her up.

"I'm okay, mom. I-I just need to t-talk to
you. Can you talk right now?"

"Sure, baby. Robert's asleep." Amy suddenly
realized that her mother always referred to her husband as
'Robert.' Even after Amy had accepted him in her heart, and started
calling him 'Dad', Amy's mom never pushed him on her. She never
tried to force a relationship. She never said 'your father', it was
always, 'Robert.'

Her mother continued. "Are you sure you're
okay? You sound like you're crying."

Amy paused. "Yeah, I guess I have been. Mom,
I don't know what to do."

"Is something wrong with Kayla?" Her mom's
voice was alarmed.

"No. She's fine. There's nothing really
wrong. Stop worrying. I just need to talk to you. I have to tell
you something. Tell somebody. I need someone to talk to." Amy was
rambling.

"Okay, sweetie. Go on. I'm listening."

"I've met someone, Mom. And I think I'm
f-falling in love with him--"

Her mother gasped. "Oh baby! That's
good--"

"No, it's not good." She paused and took a
breath to continue.

"He doesn't love you?" At her mother's
question, Amy tensed and began to think about it for a minute.

"Crap. Yes, he probably does. It hasn't
gotten far enough to say those words, but thinking about it now, I
can see the signs. He's possessive and jealous and he's using words
like 'forever.'