One Kiss, Two Kiss, Red Kiss, Now You Kiss Page 13

  “I want you, love,” he whispered, pressing another intimate kiss against her when she finally stilled. “But when we make love, I don’t intend to drown during our climax.” He stood up and swept her into his arms, then hesitated long enough to throw a towel around Jill and himself.

  “Wait.” She gestured for him to bend down so she could grab the champagne bottle.

  Greg stopped at the door. “My place or yours?”

  Jill’s tongue snaked around his ear. “Is Mrs. Hathaway cleaning yours or mine?”

  Greg thought for a moment. “Mine.”

  Jill’s tongue now darted inside the curved orifice. “Well, then, we don’t want a third party hanging around, do we?”

  He agreed wholeheartedly with that. Greg wasted no time in climbing the stairs to Jill’s apartment. She leaned down to turn the doorknob and push the door open. Greg headed for the bedroom and dropped Jill onto the bed.

  “Greg!” she squealed, bouncing on the firm mattress.

  “Jill!” he mocked, dropping down beside her. He whisked the towels off their damp bodies and tossed them to the floor. He half lay over her, his fingers tunneling through her hair. He smiled down at her. “Congratulate us, Jilly Bean,” he murmured. “We haven’t yelled at each other for several hours now.”

  “I never wanted to yell at you, Greg,” she confessed, mimicking his caress. “Sometimes I feel like two different people, one of them a horrible shrew.”

  “Frustration does that to a person.” He nuzzled the vulnerable hollow of her throat. “At least I know why you’ve been so cranky. And here I thought it was some woman’s thing.”

  Jill reared back at his teasing taunt. “Why, you chauvinist—”

  Her words were smothered under his invading mouth, and she gave up without a battle. She hugged his waist and rubbed her calves along his thighs until she reached the warmth she knew to be seeking her. Now every inch of her body was covered by his heat.

  They kissed as if time were running out on them, and they feasted with an insatiable hunger, speaking in murmured love words.

  Laughing softly, Jill pushed Greg onto his back and straddled his body. She trailed a line of kisses along his breastbone and down the narrow line of hair leading to his flat stomach. She caressed him with love and tenderness, only pausing to glance up and smile at the sounds of his pleasured groans. There soon came a time when he couldn’t stand any more of her sensual torture. He pulled her up and over him, his legs nudging hers apart. Their eyes met and spoke messages that said so very much before Jill arched her back at the same time Greg thrust upward into her silken heat. Jill cried with pleasure, causing Greg to hesitate.

  “Am I hurting you?” he asked, cupping his hands over her hips, holding her tightly against him.

  “No,” she whispered, twisting frantically to keep him deep within her. “Don’t stop, Greg, love me.”

  He complied easily, their bodies melding into one unit.

  “You’re burning me, Jill,” he spoke hoarsely.

  “I’m the one on fire.” She fitted herself to his rhythm. The tiny coil inside her unraveled, building upward, upward until Jill stood on top of a volcano. “The scorching heat came from Greg as he accelerated his pace.

  Jill panted, silently ordering her lungs to take in more oxygen to combat the lightheaded feeling that left her so free. Her hips rose and fell in perfect cadence, and Greg felt her growing tension.

  “Come with me, babe,” he urged, twisting his lower body and thrusting until she cried with pleasure. “Let yourself go and climb as high as you can.”

  Her eyes widened with the passion exploding in her body. “I—can’t.”

  “Sure you can. Trust me. We’ll have the world, sweetheart. We’ll have it all.” Beads of sweat glistened on his forehead as he exercised control over the screaming demands of his body. “Don’t worry, you’ll go with me all the way.”

  And she did. Jill clung to Greg, allowing the tidal wave to sweep them both out until they were left gasping for air. She lay still, warm in his embrace, wishing it could go on forever.

  “Mmm, now I know why all your girlfriends were always smiling,” she teased, rubbing her nose against his. “Why, Greg, you’re blushing!”

  “Cut it out, Jill.” He shifted uneasily.

  “Are you embarrassed that I’m talking about your sexual prowess?” she asked, slipping off him to lie curled up at his side. “I like your prowess … a lot.”

  “Damnit, Jill, you’re making me sound like some sex object,” he grumbled, pulling her even closer.

  “Hmm, a sex object.” She nibbled kisses on his flat brown nipple that soon peaked under her ministration. “I like that, too.”

  “Greedy witch,” he accused, but his husky voice gave her another idea.

  “Yes, but only for you.” Her hand stroked tantalizingly over him.

  “And that’s the way it should be.” Greg soon took over finishing what Jill had started.

  Several hours later they toasted each other with warm flat champagne and made love to each other again.

  “I’ll fix the toast,” Jill announced the next morning. “You always bum it. Would you get the peanut butter out, please?”

  “On toast?” Greg grimaced. “English muffins, yes, but not on toast.”

  “Toast is just a square English muffin.” She leaned over to plant a smacking kiss on his lips. It was a few moments before they resumed their meal preparations.

  “What is this stuff?” Greg held up a small plastic container he had found in the refrigerator. The dark brown contents didn’t look appetizing.

  Jill glanced over and returned to her task. “Chocolate peanut butter. It’s really good.”

  “It looks nauseating.” He quickly returned the plastic tub to the refrigerator.

  “Think of mushed up Peanut Butter Cups.” Jill spooned the eggs onto two plates. “It tastes great on sugar cookies.”

  “You eat too much junk food,” Greg told her. “I don’t understand how you can eat like that and not weigh four hundred pounds.”

  “Dance class burns a lot of calories, as do a few other activities.” She winked saucily.

  Greg and Jill had shared many breakfasts before, but never with Jill seated on his lap and feeding him choice tidbits from her plate. And that was the way Mrs. Hathaway found them when she walked into the apartment an hour later. Jill wore a pink chemise that matched her blush, and Greg’s only apparel was a towel draped around his hips.

  “M-Mrs. Hathaway,” Jill stammered, jumping up from Greg’s lap, looking like an errant schoolgirl caught in a flagrant act by the principal.

  “Well,” the older woman said with a sniff, “it’s about time.” She marched back into the living room muttering under her breath.

  Jill and Greg looked at each other, finding it difficult to keep their faces straight and their laughter barely contained. When they heard the front door open and close, they finally broke into gales of laughter.

  “Did you see her face?” Jill gasped, resting her face against Greg’s neck. Their bodies shook with mirth.

  “She sure didn’t act as shocked as I thought she would.” He had trouble keeping his voice steady. He looked down at the towel barely covering his hips. “Maybe you’d better run over to my place and pick up some clothes for me. Of course, after what she said and saw, I don’t think anything we do can shock her.”

  “Um.” Jill looked down at what the towel did show. “What a shame. She’ll miss the sight of a lifetime.” She kissed him, savoring the taste of coffee on his lips. “On second thought, I don’t want to share you with anyone. I’ll get dressed and find some clothes for you among that mess you call a closet.”

  “Want some help with zippers and buttons?” He leered at her.

  She shook her head. “No way. With your idea of helping, I’d end up not wearing a stitch. Tell you what, though, you can help me by cleaning up the kitchen.” She danced out of his reach.

  Once they had bo
th dressed and adjourned downstairs, they sat in Greg’s office going over their work.

  “We’re way behind schedule,” Greg announced, holding up the finished chapters, a pile that looked pitifully thin.

  “Our arguments took up valuable time,” Jill murmured, glancing through the spiral-bound notebook filled with scenes, ideas and brief summaries of each chapter.

  He sighed heavily. “Yeah, it’s been rough on both of us,” he agreed. He stretched his legs out in front of him, ankles crossed. “We’ve got a lot of work ahead of us.”

  She shrugged. “That’s never scared us before.” She glanced down, idly tracing the screen-printed image of Hairy Harry on her pale blue sweatshirt. That along with black leggings and thick yellow wool socks made up her outfit. The sides of her hair had been clipped back from her face, and she continually lifted her hair and let it fall back down in soft tangles. A wicked twinkle brightened her eyes. “It just means that we have to work nights and not schedule any heavy dates. You’d better go through your little black book and tell your ladies you won’t be available for a while.”

  “Okay.” Greg turned to his phone and dialed.

  Jill couldn’t believe what she was seeing. He had actually taken her joke seriously and was calling the many women he had gone out with. She thought briefly of killing him. Before she could say anything, her telephone rang.

  “Excuse me,” she said stiffly, jumping to her feet. “If that’s Tom Selleck asking me for a date, I’ll be sure to tell him I’m tied up for the next couple of weeks.” She walked into her office and picked up the receiver. “Hello?”

  “Darling, I hope I’m not disturbing you.” Greg’s voice was as smooth as well-aged brandy. “I’m afraid I’ve got a lot of work ahead of me, so we won’t be able to see each other for a while. I really hate to do this to you, but it’s for the best, because I know if I had you alone I’d want to do wicked and lascivious things to your body.”

  “I—“Jill spun around to see Greg’s grinning face as he stood in the doorway of his office.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll make it up to you later.” His voice lowered to a seductive level, letting her know exactly how he intended to do that.

  She slammed the phone down and ran back into Greg’s office. “You devil!” She pummeled him with her fists.

  Laughing, he locked his hands behind her waist and lifted her to his eye level. Their mouths met and melted together. Greg pulled his head away, breathing harshly. “Ever make it on a desk?”

  Jill’s fingertips pressed against his chest. “We have work to do,” she reminded him primly.

  “Don’t you think it’s time for a coffee break?” Greg asked hopefully.

  She shook her head, knowing if she didn’t remain strong now, they’d be upstairs in a matter of minutes. “Besides, Carlysle would demand the exact details of why we were late with our book, and you know how he can sniff out lies.”

  He sighed heavily. “Okay, party pooper, but you’d better be prepared to finish this book in record time.”

  Jill linked her arms around his neck and kissed him on the nose. “Don’t worry, darling, you’ll be a better man for it,” she vowed in sugary tones.

  Greg didn’t look so sure. He had only received a taste of Jill’s love, and his hunger had increased after the appetizer. He wanted more than she could imagine giving to him. Only time would settle his lusty appetite, if it could ever be satisfied.

  CHAPTER NINE

  “Take it easy, Evelyne!” Greg pleaded even as the dark-haired woman dragged him into the dance center’s large auditorium. “You’re practically pulling my arm out of the socket.”

  “Don’t you dare start complaining now.” She selected two seats five rows from the front and deposited him in the second seat from the aisle. The only way he could escape now was over her. “Jill is counting on you attending her performance, and I’m making sure you don’t try to sneak out. You can’t disappoint her now.”

  Greg groaned, resting his head against the top of the metal chair with a thin square of vinyl on the seat in place of padding. He certainly wasn’t going to pretend that he had any heartfelt desire to be here. He turned his head and gazed at Evelyne with undisguised temper.

  “Greg,” she crooned, patting his hand, “think of this as a family duty.”

  He made a rude noise. “My family duty meant visiting Aunt Miranda every Sunday afternoon. It ended when I was ten and decided to fill in the roses on her wallpaper with my purple marker. If I hadn’t done it, I would probably still be going there.”

  Evelyne rolled her eyes in exasperation. “With all the hours Jill spent in rehearsal and preparing her costumes, you will enjoy this show,” she hissed just as the overhead lights blinked once in warning and lowered.

  Greg settled back in his seat, his hands comfortably clasped across his stomach. He watched a tall, gangly woman step onto the stage and listened to her welcome speech to parents and friends attending the Oaktree Dance Academy’s spring program. He sighed deeply, earning a dark glare from Evelyne. He feared it was going to be a long evening.

  He tuned the woman’s words out and thought back over the past few weeks. Nothing had truly prepared him for the happiness Jill had given him. Every night they had slept in each other’s arms, and each day they had worked hard on their book. If they had been in tune before, now they definitely shared a blending of the minds. Their writing flowed together so well, they had finished the book well ahead of schedule and had recently begun plans for the next one. Greg had continued teasing Jill about her dance classes and her hours of rehearsal, but he had never shared his fears with her. What if she wasn’t ready for all the additional physical exertion a performance must demand? It still wasn’t all that long since her surgery. He knew he couldn’t stand to see her in pain again.

  For the past two weeks Jill had been asking him to attend the dance performance, but he had never given her an affirmative answer. In his mind’s eye a dance recital conjured images of red-cheeked little girls dressed in pastel leotards and tutus, attempting faltering dance steps on a stage. Only the hurt disappointment he had glimpsed on Jill’s face and in her eyes had prompted him to agree to be there. Evelyne had picked him up and warned him she’d do whatever was necessary to ensure that he didn’t find a way to back out of attending.

  “When does Jill come on?” he asked, only to be shushed by someone seated behind them.

  “The second and the last numbers,” Evelyne murmured, keeping her eyes on the stage.

  Greg stared up at the ceiling. He leaned over and whispered in her ear. “How many numbers do we have to suffer through?”

  “Five and shut up.”

  Greg shifted uneasily in his seat. Perhaps he could catch a quick nap.

  The first dance consisted of six small girls between the ages of four and six, looking adorable dressed in colorful costumes resembling flowers and fairies. They concentrated on stepping and sliding to the haunting refrain of The Sugar Plum Fairy.

  Greg stifled a yawn, and Evelyne, seeing his sign of boredom, jabbed him in the ribs.

  “Don’t you dare fall asleep,” she muttered her dire warning.

  Not soon enough for Greg, the curtain closed on the flowers and fairies amid polite applause. The mistress of ceremonies returned to the front of the stage and explained that the young junior class, ages seven and eight, would perform the Sorcerer’s Apprentice with advanced dancer Jill Blake’s assistance as the hapless apprentice.

  The heavy curtains slowly parted along the dark stage. The lights remained dim to reveal a dark cavern. A figure dressed in black moved across the boards to the first haunting strains of the music. When the dancer turned to face the audience, Greg sat up a little straighten

  The dancer’s clothing might have been black, but her aura was pure sun and moonlight as far as Greg was concerned.

  The audience chuckled as the timid apprentice cautiously approached her master’s coned hat sitting on a table in the middle of the
stage. She moved forward, then swiftly backed off, showing wariness in the lines of her body. She used a great deal of body language to explain to the audience how badly she wanted to wear her master’s hat. Suddenly, the hat “magically” appeared on her head with a pearlized light glowing around her head to indicate her great magical power. Papers danced in the air, as did “clay” pots as the power grew along with the apprentice’s bravado. There was nothing she couldn’t do, thanks to the magic hat.

  A wave of her hand brought upright a tiny broom leaning against the wall. The broom’s costume was constructed of brown cloth, with the girlish performer’s two legs cunningly hidden by false bristles.

  With another wave of the hand the broom was ordered to sweep the cavern. The now-saucy apprentice danced lively steps around the room, then stopped, palm cradling her chin in thought. A snap of the fingers, a waggle of the hands, and the broom magically multiplied into three brooms. The apprentice was so pleased with her magic that she settled in a large chair, her hands continuing to wave the brooms into action. It wasn’t long before her tasks tired her. She yawned, laid her head back and fell asleep, her hands still waving about. She slept on, unaware that her magic continued to multiply the small brooms as they performed their task with energetic zeal. Soon the stage was covered with dancing brooms which developed more mischief than work. The apprentice slept on until a bright light from the cavern stairs shone on her face. She bounced up, looking appropriately apologetic for getting caught by her master. She carefully replaced the hat on the table, the brooms quickly decreased in number and the apprentice was soon dejectedly sweeping the floor.

  Greg continued staring at the stage after the curtains closed.

  “What did you think of Jill’s performance?” Evelyne broke into his trance.

  He coughed, clearing his throat of the lump there. “I never knew,” he murmured, in awe of what he had just witnessed. He sat slightly forward, waiting for the last routine.

  The last number included the advanced jazz class dancing to a modern rock tune. The ten women wore red sequined two-piece leotards and sheer red tights. The energy expended in the routine was phenomenal and electrifying to the audience.