Authors: Megan Hart
The crowd loved him, probably more for the sly, self-deprecating anecdotes he fed them between songs. He sipped occasionally from a bottle of water, nothing stronger, and it was too soon when he finished, saying he would take another break and be back in fifteen minutes for his last set.
“Grace?”
Jack had been talking, but my mind was wandering until he pulled me back with the sound of my name. “Hmm?”
“You want another drink?”
“Yes.” My bladder screamed. “Just a soda, please.”
I fished for money in my wallet, but Jack waved away my hand. I watched him head up to the bar. Heads turned as he passed, women and men, and I thought of what he’d said about the bouncer at the door.
As much as I might have wanted to fantasize about Jack and some other cute boy in a lip-lock, there was no way my bladder was going to let me last that long. I inched my way from behind the table and headed for the glowing arrow pointing to the bathrooms. I’d expected a line, but whoever’d remodeled the fire station had done a good job. There were several stalls and women moved in and out of them in record time.
Sam had come back to the stage, though he wasn’t on it, just by it. He wasn’t alone, either.
Sam had a groupie. I wish I could’ve thought something mean about her, but other than the bright golden hair and tight-fitting T-shirt, she didn’t look trashy enough to get my hackles up.
Nope, what got my lip curling was the fact Sam was snuzzling with her. There was no other way to put it. They weren’t kissing…exactly. And they weren’t hugging. Not exactly. He was simply leaning in super close, as if he needed to hear what she was saying, except closer than that.
Body language says a lot.
I said his name before I knew I was going to, and he turned away from the blonde with stars in her eyes to stare at me for a full five seconds before he smiled.
“Grace. Hi! You made it!”
“I made it.”
The blonde’s smile wilted at the corners, but the stars managed to still twinkle. It would have been a cliché if she’d thrown daggers at me with her eyes, though I was sort of prepared for it. She merely gave me an inquisitive look and turned her adoration back toward Sam.
“Marnie, this is Grace.” Sam gestured.
“Hi,” I said.
We didn’t shake hands.
Women know how to cut each other down in ways men never see, and Marnie was very good at it. She’d even added the subtle touch to his shoulder to get him to turn his head toward her as she spoke. “So, Sam. I loved your song ‘Captain Backyards.’”
“Captain…oh.” Sam laughed.
The song had been “Cap On Backwards.” I knew because not only had I been listening, but watching his mouth, too. Marnie gave him a quizzical look at the laugh as Sam scratched his ear self-consciously.
I caught sight of Jack, his head bent to listen to something from the girl next to him. I’d seen her earlier. With her blue-and purple-streaked hair, she was hard to miss. Jack was smiling, though, so maybe she wasn’t an angry ex-girlfriend.
I looked back at Sam. His gaze had followed mine, but when I half turned toward him, he looked at me. “I’ve got to get back up there.”
He sounded apologetic, but I waved a hand. “Of course.”
“But I’ll see you after, right? You’ll stick around?” I looked over my shoulder toward Jack, just a quick glance, and before I could answer, Sam was shaking his head. “Don’t say no.”
“It’s late.” It was a well-worn excuse. “I have to be up early.”
“I’ll be here,” Marnie said, and earned a smile from Sam.
Ah. Here came the daggers. I smiled at her, but blandly. Funny how easy it is to defuse someone when you’re not willing to fight them for what they want.
“Bye, Sam.”
He snagged my arm as I turned to go. “Wait a minute.”
I watched Jack laugh at something the girl with the blue hair was saying and looked at the time. One way or another, my date was winding down. I’d only paid for four hours. The girl with Jack punched him on the arm as she moved away, and he rubbed the spot. He gave her the smile.
Wow.
I looked back at Sam. “I’ve really go to go.”
He turned to look toward Jack, who’d grabbed up the drinks and was heading toward us.
“Yeah. Okay.”
Sam let me go. I pushed past Marnie and met Jack before he could reach us. He handed me my glass of soda and put an arm around my shoulder.
“Hey. You okay?”
“Fine. Just a little tired. I should get going.” I smiled and drank my soda, and Jack gave a curious glance past me toward Sam, now taking the stage again.
“Do you know him?”
“Not really. A little. C’mon, let’s go.”
The crowd hushed as Sam took the stage again and the spotlight hit him, just so. I didn’t have to be looking at him to see that. I just knew the light would love him.
I put my soda down, half finished. “Jack, let’s go.”
He took another long pull on his beer but set the bottle down quickly when I told him to.
He didn’t question my sudden haste, just moved alongside me to put his arm around my shoulder as we pushed through the crowd. From behind us came the first few chords of a song.
“This is something new I’ve been working on.” The whole audience heard him, but his words were mine. “It’s called ‘Grace on the Stairway.’”
We were almost to the stairs when he said it, but I stopped so fast Jack kept going for a few steps. I didn’t turn to look toward the stage as Sam began to sing.
“Hey,” said Jack. “Grace on the Stairway.”
He was laughing, but I wasn’t. “C’mon, let’s go.”
Jack didn’t protest, though he did look over his shoulder again as we left. Outside, the August night had turned cool. Gooseflesh humped my arms, and I rubbed them briskly as we walked toward the parking garage.
“Thanks for coming with me tonight,” I said as he backed me up against the smooth, cold metal of my car. “It was—”
His hungry mouth stopped me. His breath, redolent of beer and onion rings, seeped between my lips until I opened for him. His tongue stroked mine as the hand not holding his helmet and jacket gripped my waist.
“Don’t go yet,” he said against my mouth. “It’s not that late.”
“I can’t pay for a hotel room,” I told him honestly.
“Come to my place.”
I pulled away to look at him. “Jack.”
It was proof of how well he knew me by that point, because he used the smile on me without any show of remorse. “Come on. I’m horny as hell.”
His drifting hand slid to my back and pulled me harder against him. I wanted to laugh, but the press of his belt buckle on my stomach turned my nervous giggle into a gasp. Suddenly, I was horny as hell, too.
Jack kissed me again, then pulled away to look at my face. “Our date ended half an hour ago.”
“I know it did.” I tipped my head a little, my lips parted and yet my tongue still tasted him.
Jack took my hand and put it on his crotch, where under the faded denim his cock had grown. “Consider it my tip.”
I did laugh, then. “Fucking me is your tip?”
He grinned and rubbed my hand in a slow circle on his denim-caged dick. “Yep.”
I didn’t think it was such a good idea, me going to his place. Fucking him for free. It was a little dangerous, actually, but I simply didn’t have the cash to insist on the wall that money allowed me to keep between us.
And I didn’t want to be thinking about Sam.
“If you’re that horny, I’m sure you could find someone to go home with.” It was a last, feeble attempt, and Jack didn’t buy it.
“I’m not a slut,” he whispered in my ear and added a lick to my neck that sent a shard of pure pleasure straight down to my already slicking cunt.
I really had no more excuses after that, but as I followed his motorcycle in my car down Harrisburg’s dark streets, I almost chickened out. Three times. Jack pulled up onto the sidewalk and parked the bike, and I found a spot for Betty between a beat-up Metro and a garish green Accord. I got out and locked my doors, then looked up at the brick building.
“C’mon in.” Jack held out his hand, and I took it.
H
e lived on the third floor, and though the place didn’t look like much from the outside, his apartment was clean. Almost stark. Plain white walls and bare wooden floors in one main room with a small bathroom and bedroom tucked off to the back. His furniture looked battered, but his sink, unlike my own, wasn’t piled high with dishes and his garbage pail didn’t overflow with trash.
Jack hung his jacket and helmet on a set of large metal pegs drilled into the wall and tossed his keys into a glass dish on a small table by the door. He gestured. “This is my place.”
“It’s nice.” I looked around, noting the art on the walls. “Did you draw those?”
“Some of them. Yeah.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Some are from friends.”
I was no expert, but even I could see he had talent. “You’re good.”
He put his arms around me from behind, pulling me back against him. “Yeah, I think you told me that before.”
I mock elbowed him. “I meant your pictures.”
He turned me in his arms and pulled me flush against him. “I know.”
It was different without the money between us, in a subtle way I couldn’t put my finger on and didn’t want to think about. Jack didn’t seem to have any trouble. He slid his hand under my hair to cup the back of my neck and bent to kiss me as he backed me toward the bedroom.
We’d done a lot of role playing, but this time there was no pizza delivery boy, no naughty schoolboy. No bored housewife or demanding boss. No more lessons, as a matter of fact, because he’d learned them all very, very well.
He undressed me carefully, using his hands and mouth to map the curves he revealed. His mouth lingered at the swell of my breasts above my lacy bra while his fingers skimmed the edge of my matching panties and slid beneath my ass. He took his time but didn’t do it slowly, and his careful haste, his eagerness to reach my nakedness, thrilled me.
Still kissing me, he tugged open his belt, undid the zip, pushed the jeans over his lean hips and to the floor. He took his mouth from my flesh only long enough to pull off his long-sleeved T-shirt. I stopped him when he put his hands on the waistband of his boxers.
“Wait.”
He gave me a curious look.
“Let me.”
Standing at the edge of the bed, Jack lifted his hands in acquiescence as I scooted forward.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, I curled my fingers into the soft fabric of his boxers and pulled it down.
We’d spent a lot of time on making me happy. It was what I paid for, after all. To be pleased. Jack had learned my body far better than I’d learned his.
I also took my time, but didn’t hesitate in revealing his body to me. I’d seen it many times before, and yet tonight it felt different to trace with my tongue the outline of the stylized sun on his lower belly. He kept his pubic hair trimmed short, and I nuzzled his skin as I breathed in his scent, purely male. His cock brushed my cheek and my hair tangled over it as I mouthed his tattoo. I gripped his ass and held him still as I licked and sucked and bit his stomach, hip and thigh, but I let him go and looked up at him without taking his erection into my mouth.
“Tell me what
you
want.” It was the first time I’d ever asked.
Jack passed a hand over my hair and down to caress my cheek briefly. He stroked his erection slowly a few times with my hair still wrapped around it in places. “Use your mouth on me. Please.”
It wasn’t an unreasonable request, considering the times he’d done the same for me, but I liked the way he asked. I lifted a hand to smooth my hair off him, but didn’t take him into my mouth right away. I looked first. Really looked. I’d spent hours with him inside me, but had never really seen his prick up close.
I studied the smooth, thin skin beneath which his blood pulsed. I slid my hand slowly down his length and cupped his balls, then moved up again and gripped his cock just below the head. Jack put his hand on my hair, but didn’t push me. His breathing got heavier, but he waited.
I liked that, too.
“Tell me something. Did you used to have…something?”
He smoothed his hand over my hair. “Something like what?”
“A…thing? Here?”
“A Prince Albert?” Jack laughed, low. “Yeah. Got tired of it. Took it out. Why, do you like that?”
“I don’t think so.” I studied his cock and saw something that might have been a small scar.
“No. I like you the way you are now.”
“Good.”
When at last I dipped my head to close my lips around his cock, Jack groaned. Such a simple, basic noise of pleasure, but something tightened low in my gut. I closed my eyes when he murmured my name and I thought of Sam.
I thought of Sam’s eyes and mouth and hands, of Sam’s impossibly long legs and the glint of his earring. Of his shaggy hair that begged for the taming of scissors and comb. I had another man’s cock in my mouth and my own hand between my legs, but it was Sam’s face that filled my mind. His voice, and the strum of his guitar as he sang a song that could only have been meant for me. I took Jack inside my mouth, and I knew something he didn’t.
This would be the last time we fucked.
I couldn’t afford this anymore. This was costing me too much, and not in dollars.
He pushed forward into my mouth and I put a hand at the base of his cock to control his thrusting. Using hand and mouth in tandem, I sucked and stroked until his fingers tightened in my hair hard enough to hurt.
I left his prick covered in the wetness from my mouth and looked up at him. Jack’s eyes had glazed and his mouth was lax from pleasure, but he smiled when he saw me looking.
He didn’t ruin it with talking, just leaned in to kiss me. His tongue dived into my mouth.
We ended up on the bed, flesh on flesh and limbs tangled. His hands roamed over me, dipping between my legs. I was already wet from my own touch, and he slipped one finger inside me, then up and over my clit.
Sensation leaped through me, and Jack swallowed my gasp. His hand moved against me. I was almost there already, but he knew me well enough to know when to ease off. To tease.