Must Love Curves (Six Wicked Shorts) (17 page)

"Everything I can convince you to let me do, and," he stopped, looked at his watch, "You've got twenty minutes to account for after sunset."

"Fine, let me change." I tried to push him outside, but he wouldn't budge.

"I'll wait right here, thank you very much."

He probably thought I wouldn't open the door back up if he let me shut it with him on the outside. The thought had definitely crossed my mind. Scowling over my shoulder, I marched to my bedroom, shut the door and threw on some clothes. When I emerged five minutes later, he was grinning ear to ear.

"None of this is funny, Jack." I grabbed my keys from the entry table and stepped onto the front step.

"That outfit is -- are you sure you don't want to add a parka and snow boots?"

"Are you sure you don't want me to go back inside and you can spend the day alone?"

His expression changed from teasing to contrite in a heartbeat. "No, baby, I'll behave -- at least for a little bit."

A little bit was right. His good behavior lasted until we were inside his living room. He pointed to a big white box with a pink ribbon tied around it. "I expected you to wear as much armor as possible, so I went shopping last night."

The grin was back, impossibly wider. He was right. I had put on the least sexy combination of clothes I could find -- a gray t-shirt, layered with a long sleeve top and a hoodie. My jeans were button fly and belted with a buckle that took either a lot of experience or an engineering degree to unfasten.

Dread weighing down my footsteps, I walked over to the box and opened it. Inside was a slip of a dress -- maybe not even that. "Is this a negligee?"

"It's a sun dress." He put his hand into the box and fished out a pair of matching sandals.

I wasn't done arguing. The outer layer of the "dress" was georgette. Beneath it a satiny, body hugging sheath. Both layers were hot pink. Peering into the box, I saw a pair of panties that were little more than a whisper of fabric. "It sure looks like a negligee."

"It wasn't in that part of the store, so quit arguing and put it on."

"You said whatever you could convince me to do." I folded my arms across my chest. "And you're just not that persuasive, Jack."

Immediately, I sensed that I'd made a mistake. I should have found another way to phrase my refusal instead of challenging him to convince me. His hands jumped to the top button of his pants.

"What are you doing?" I nervously eyed the distance to the front door. I didn't think Jack was about to go psycho, I just didn't want to see what he was packing inside his jeans. I already had a hard time keeping him out of my bed time fantasies.

"Baby, there's too much clothing between the two of us. If you won't change, I guess that means I have to take something off."

I went to stop his hands, realizing just in time where I was reaching. I snatched my hand to my side like I'd touched fire and looked at the box again. It was a pretty piece. Expensive, too. For inside wear it might be okay. I certainly wouldn't go parading around town with its too short hem and sleeveless bodice.

I chewed at my bottom lip, hoping he would relent and I wouldn't have to decide. Hearing the slide of his zipper, I quickly put my hands up in surrender "Wait! I'll try it on, but no guarantees. And even if I decide not to wear it, you're not stripping anything off."

He shrugged, mirth making his eyes sparkle. "No guarantees, baby girl."

********************

Jack wasn't the only one capable of strategy. I spent twenty-five minutes putting that slip of nothing on. I decided that my game plan for the day would be to spend as much time as possible in his house but away from him. Exiting the bathroom, I returned to the living room to find him missing.

I could hear the sounds of cooking coming from the kitchen. If Jack expected me to go in there on my own, he would just have to be disappointed. I wasn't going to welsh on the bet, but I wouldn't make it easy for him, either.

Avoiding the couch, I sat in the side chair. Waiting, I kept my knees pressed together, hyper aware of how much of the dress disappeared when I was sitting. Bad enough that it only fell halfway down my thighs when I was standing, another three inches of length disappeared the second my ass hit the cushion.

Folding my hands in my lap, I tried to relax and not glare in the direction of the kitchen. Another ten minutes passed before Jack came into the living room drying his hands with a dish towel. He stopped just inside the room, the towel falling to the floor.

"Suddenly I feel the need to go back to bed -- want to join me, beautiful?"

I rolled my eyes at him and shook my head. It was a cute outfit, flattering -- but not that flattering.

His mouth puckered then smoothed into a smile. He crooked a finger at me. "Come and have breakfast then."

He watched me get up, the hem of the dress sliding places it shouldn't and then flouncing along my thighs as I crossed the room. He didn't even bother trying to meet my gaze, his attention fixed on the strike zone of my breasts down to my knees. He drew one side of his bottom lip into his mouth, biting at it as he half shuttered his gaze. When I passed him, his hands came up in an attempt to capture my hips.

Evading him, I spun on my heels and walked backwards into the kitchen. "Don't get grabby, Santos."

Jack followed me in, watching me from the side as he filled my plate with eggs, baked ham and chunks of melon. He put the plate in front of me, loaded another plate with food and poured ice water for both of us from a carafe.

His head tilted down, he looked up at me through thick lashes. "This is our first date, you know."

"Too bad for you." I pointed my fork at him before I speared a piece of honeydew. "I don't do anything on the first date."

Reaching under the table, he brushed his fingertips against my leg. "That's why we're watching a movie later -- that's date two."

I scooted my chair back, the fork hovering in front of my mouth as I tried to stare him into behaving. "Still out of luck."

"And dinner in front of the fireplace will be date three."

I responded with a raised brow and a shake of my head. Oh, I'd made a mistake on date three once before, but that had only served to reinforce my six date rule.

"Baby, the way I see it, we should have at least three months of dating history by now." He stretched his legs under the table, his feet hooking my chair and drawing it close enough his hand could tease my knee again. "We've had enough conversation to fill at least a dozen dates."

I didn't answer -- couldn't. He was tracing little circles along my inside knee. The soft touch and repeating pattern did weird things to me, my body's reaction too strong for something as innocent as a hand so far down my leg. My lower body tightened in on itself, my labia sliding together as my nipples tented the bodice of the dress.

Jack noticed my pointy nipples and the way my legs flexed beneath his touch. His lips parted, his tongue emerging from his mouth to fill the space as he blinked and drew a long breath in. His hand cupped the backside of my knee and started to squeeze before he shook his head and retreated.

For the first time in six months, I saw Jack blush. He took a gulp of ice water and then another. Putting the glass back down, he asked me about school.

"State." The word shook as it left me. I stopped, forced my breathing back under control. The rest of my body hadn't settled yet. My hips ached to slide forward in search of his hand. My breasts were swelling beneath the tight bodice, making the hard nipples almost painful.

My shoulders twitched, drawing Jack's gaze back to my breasts, where it stayed.

I needed to distract him, to have him look at my face instead of my body. His gaze focused where it was caused my temperature to spike, particularly down between my thighs. A few more seconds of him staring at me and steam would start rising up from my pussy.

"I -- uh...I'm going back in the fall for my master's degree."

He nodded and closed his eyes for a second before opening them and looking at my face. "Will you still do the weather for Channel 7?"

"No, I've got a research grant that will keep me busy."

I was actually pretty excited about going back and it must have shown. Jack asked question after question, listening intently to my answers with his eyes only occasionally drifting down to my breasts.

I relaxed a little, asked him a few questions of my own. Sometime before the last of the melon disappeared, I learned that he was one of six kids, something unimaginable to an only child like me. Three boys and three girls. I also learned his parents owned a restaurant, which was where he had learned to cook so well.

Coffee, strong and black, was brewed after breakfast and we talked some more, mostly about his job at the high school, where he taught history and coached the school soccer team and summer camps. Earnest Jack was new to me and I almost forgot I was half naked, my only reminders being those occasional downward glances when his expression would start to smolder and I felt there was the distinct risk of my being draped across the kitchen table and ravished.

Little did I know, he was saving the heavy seduction for our second date.

********************

Date two started with a stack of three videos. I reached for them and he stopped me, amusement running through his tone as he explained my options.

"Ladies choice, but you have to choose 'yes' or 'no' on the first one before seeing the second one, and so on."

He held the first video up. "Now, this one, my sister's husband proposed to her at the theater during final credits. He hadn't even bought a ring yet, but she still said yes."

I shook my head, immediately rejecting the movie. I'd watched it already and cried like a baby for the whole of its final thirty minutes. Smiling, he showed me the case for option number two. Another one I'd already seen. It had a good romance in it, but was far too hot. My thighs started to warm just thinking about it. Every time I viewed it alone, I had to take care of myself around the middle of the movie.

No way in hell was I going to watch it with Jack sitting next to me.

"No." I could feel my expression going all wide-eyed and panicky. When he gave me a knowing grin, I wanted to slug him.

He put the second movie to the side, leaving him with a case that was coverless and empty. He reached for the remote and turned on the television and Blu-Ray player. "I didn't think you'd want to watch either of those to, so I put this one in already."

Damn it. He was sneakier than I realized.

"What is it?"

Chuckling, he draped an arm across the back of my shoulders. "You'll see."

As the previews started, he brushed the back of his fingertips along my bicep.

"You're cold, baby." He rubbed the flesh more vigorously with his palm to warm me.

"Because you won't let me wear any real clothes." I shrugged my arm away before his touch had a chance to really mess with my mind. The effect from just sitting next to him was bad enough. The body heat pouring from him could light a small bonfire and he smelled like heaven. The heavy rich spices of his aftershave mixing with his natural scent had me ready to lean back, close my eyes and part my legs.

Reaching across my chest to grab a stadium blanket, Jack put his lips against my ear. "Can you blame me for wanting to see you dressed like this? You're always hiding beneath pants and long skirts, full sleeves, high necklines."

He growled and then his lips blazed a trail down my throat. Covering me with the stadium blanket, he kissed my shoulder. "Seeing you on a normal day is like going to an art gallery -- blindfolded."

His hand slipped under the blanket and wrapped around my knee just as the movie's opening credits started. I recognized the film -- a love story, not a romantic comedy like the first two choices.

Oh, hell.

"Evil, Jack." I bit the words out.

His warm breath curled along my throat as he laughed. "Baby, you said you love this movie."

I did love it -- the first week I had gotten all misty eyed every time something reminded me of the film. I had mentioned it to Jack during one of his flirting sessions in my front yard. Worse yet, as humid and ready to fuck as the second movie made me, this one was three times as hot. And the lead actor looked too much like Jack.

They had the same dark hair, warm brown eyes and bodies sculpted from marble. Adding to the resemblance was the same expressive, mobile mouth. Remembering all the things the actor had done to the heroine with his mouth, I felt my eyes start to roll back in my head. It was a miracle the movie only had an R rating.

"Jack...I...I changed my mind. I want to watch the first one."

He squeezed my knee. "Too late."

I tried to calm myself. After all, there was no rule prohibiting me from merely pretending to watch. I could look at a spot just above the television while I recited the periodic table in my head or multiplied pi by each number in the Fibonacci Sequence. I could make it through the movie without dissolving into a heaving, panting puddle of arousal.

My plan worked -- mostly -- but then Jack started massaging my knee again.