The crows nest, p.2
The Crow's Nest, page 2
“Liz. It’s Liz. You forgot to ask me,” she said in mock admonishment.
Her name, right! He thought frowning. His muddled mind snapped back into sharp focus.
“Do I hear an Afrikaans patois?” he asked as he attempted to mask his sudden fear, realizing that he just played a low percentage shot with a stupid question. Knowing that if she was a New Zealander, the mistake might be perceived at best as inelegant and at worst, a flippant jab that she would find too obnoxious, bereft of any sense of grace and finally intolerable enough for her to send him packing with his tail between his legs. He winced in doubt and wished he’d kept his mouth shut.
“Good guess,” she said flashing a smile at him. “Have you ever been to South Africa?”
“No, but I might have good reason to visit there soon.” For fuck’s sake, you fool. Shut up!
Liz chuckled in her now familiar smoky clipped lilt that again brushed across his loins. Jack closed his eyes, slowing his breathing to calm his nerves and arrest the swelling in his pants that continued to throb unabated in anticipation of an almost certain outcome due to unfold within seconds of reaching the car.
She walked slightly in front of him. Her curvy hips swayed seductively in the silk mini dress. A spaghetti strap hung provocatively off one shoulder. The glossy sheen of her dress flared in the illumination of passing headlights and shimmered against her hips and thighs with each step she took. Her calf muscles tightened into asymmetrical sculptured balls that rose and fell with every forward stride.
Jack’s eyes followed the shape of her tanned legs that tapered down onto ankles perched in a pair of black Jimmy Choo slingback heels that clicked out “fuck me good” with every step. He was slowly becoming unhinged. The desire to fuck her senseless tugged at his loins.
They walked back to her car. The garage was sparsely populated with other cars. There, near the back of level one amidst sodium vapor sconces fixed against the concrete walls, sat a black Range Rover parked as if waiting to aid and abet an act of unseen carnality. She pressed a remote and the hatch rose slowly and came to a soft stop. The metaphor was not lost on him or her as she glanced back at him and giggled.
A sharp gust of wind off the street above found its way to her, catching the back of her dress and ruffling it up over her hips to reveal round firm cheeks unclad in anything but herself.
“Ooh!” she gasped. “That’s impossible!” She turned quickly as a wolfish grin spread across his face. “Jack, did you just see that? What in the hell was that?” A nervous giggle escaped her throat as she looked around for the invisible perpetrator.
“Such perfect timing, whatever it was,” he said, smiling back at her that sent a wave of heat rushing into her loins. She was enthralled by the sudden roughness in his voice and the expectant look on his face. His arousal was apparent in every flex of his leanly muscled frame.
She pressed her thighs together, suddenly desperate to keep her sexual excitement contained. Never had she felt such an instantaneous chemical attraction and reckless impulsiveness for any other man. It scared her. But it excited the hell out of her a lot more.
A spotlight shone down from the ceiling of the Rover, illuminating a black deep pile shag rug. Several glossy red boxes sat up against the back seat.
“They’re over here,” she said as she bent over to reach in. Jack watched, riveted, as her miniskirt began to rise displaying the compactness of her tight buttocks.
“A little help, Jack?” she asked, her breath coming in short gasps.
“I’ll help you, baby,” he offered and reached out, but his hands had a will of their own and they found their way to knead and palm the softness of her cheeks between his fingers, instead. When the only reaction was an arch of her back and increased breathing, he allowed his hands to brush down her flanks and caress the insides of her thighs. A low guttural moan crawled out of her throat and disappeared into the emptiness of the car.
“Oh God,” she gasped. He straddled her legs and pressed his bulging erection in between her cheeks. She arched on her elbows and turned her head back at him in a beseeching look.
“What’re you planning to do to me?” she asked plaintively. “Are you a gentle giant, Jack?”
“With you, always, baby,” he intoned in an attempt to reassure her. But there was a raw potency that suffused his voice with a primordial instinct to mate with her in a powerful display of unleashed lust.
His eyes flashed as he reached between her toned legs. Carbonations of heat rushed in waves through both of them. His sharp gasps rose audibly as he found her heat with searching fingers.
“Oh,” she gasped, sucking air through her pursed lips. “Jack, what if someone sees us?”
“Good for them. I hope they enjoy the show,” he grunted as he put his hand between her legs and flipped her over. He pulled her hips to the edge of the threshold and gently bent back her legs.
Liz quickly became lost in his raw passion that was in such contrast to the gentle touch of his hands and the promise of unbound pleasure in his eyes.
The world fell away as they indulged in the unexpurgated lust fed by the instant chemistry that had drawn them together from first glance. No thought was given to their blatant display of exhibitionism as they indulged in the urgent needs of their bodies to copulate.
Afterward, their breathing haggard and worn, he pulled her into his arms and cuddled her against his chest. He closed his eyes and held her, allowing her essence to flow unbound into him.
Tilting her head back, he kissed her slowly in a meshing of warmth, passion and need; a need that was borne the moment their eyes had met over the distance. He looked into her haunting green eyes, rimmed in blue rings and smiled.
“You do know this is only the beginning, sweetness.”
She slowly nodded at him as she returned his smile and paused. Looking into his face, she pressed her fingers to his mouth and whispered,
“I know.”
And now, their journey begins ...
Chapter One
Out of the chaos of life, the eternal law of duality, of unity, of that which makes two souls complete, becomes visible in its simplest form as in the timelessness of a wave upon a shore.
Breathing in
Breathing in. Breathing out.
Irreducible as the timeless
breath of breaking waves
that wash upon a vacant shore
fluent in silent whispers,
I lie indolent on ancient
sculptured hollows
cradled in a sabulous doze
and listen to the muted thump
and rhythmic sighs of a
distant siren tide that runs
inbound to bare the unbloused
succulence of her cerulean blue
to soothe the unsated hiss of
an arid and thirsty shore.
The journey begins ...
“Honey, just look at the Bay. It’s beautiful and so peaceful with all the sailboats out there! I can see the towers of the Golden Gate Bridge to the northwest. Ah, look at the fog starting to curl over the mountains. That is truly magical.”
Liz pulled at Jack’s arm as he leaned over her to look out of the window of the plane. Crowding her with his back turned to shield them both from prying eyes, he slid his right hand between her thighs.
“Jack. Behave.”
The soft giggle of delight was a contradiction to her initial admonishment but it severed the lie when he lifted the moist lacy triangle of her thong and pushed a finger inside her vagina.
“Oh, my god, Jack,” she gasped, glaring at him and playfully slapped away his arm, “Someone will see us.”
Liz pressed her thighs together, trying to regain some measure of public etiquette. It was a half-hearted attempt to briefly parade her disapproval in front of him, but he knew that the net effect of his discreet exploration would neutralize any further act of resistance on her part.
He bowed his head in a gesture of supplication to burgle the delicate bouquet upon his finger, dabbing the philtrum of his upper lip with it. For the very same reason, he wore a dense triangular brush of hair perched just under his lower lip. His methodology bordered on obsessive but it didn’t bother him. It was a portrayal of the singular nature that drove his passion to the exclusion of foolish whims.
Since meeting Jack in a chance encounter at Starbucks four weeks ago that ended in the back of her Range Rover behind the multiplex theatre in Farmingdale, New York, Liz had become overwhelmed with unknown emotions. He had exposed her to sensations she had never known existed and subsequently discovered within herself a sensual wantonness to which she willingly participated. It also frightened and thrilled her to think that one man had that much sexual power to be able to make her twitch and dance like a marionette. She knew this power delighted Jack to no end.
The damn scoundrel unleashed something wild that ran rampant inside her, that probed the perimeter of her lust, sniffing at it, crawling unseen under the wire to overrun her otherwise unconscious libido that dozed placidly unaware, then suddenly jolting it awake in an ambush and stealing it away from her control.
The threat was always near and always present in some form. Disguised or hidden within a breath or a lingering gaze, the sudden tactile brush would stir and tug at her loins, teasing out the deeper reserve of sexuality. Turning and twisting her quickly into a willing host, she would surrender to the sting that aroused the hunger.
A flash of heat surged through Liz’s stomach as Jack probed a finger. A rich moan resonated deep within her throat, racing up only to be snuffed in the clench of her jaw.
“Open for me, baby. I know you want to. When you’re this wet, we both know the only thing that will appease the hunger that haunts that empty complexion of your pale green eyes, is a good hard climax.” Jack watched as a crimson bloom flushed her cheeks. He didn’t know how he acquired this role as seducer and tormentor, but he relished it as a privateer would a letter of marque.
“You’re confusing real hunger for passion, honey. You forget I didn’t have breakfast.”
She stubbornly refused to spread her legs, provoking a leer that clouded his face. Undeterred, he fingered her now to the hilt and smiled when he caught her catching her breath. She glowered at him and snapped in feigned irritation, “Tu hai una testa dura, mio caro.”
Mocking him in Italian was a direct challenge, one that he would find great pleasure in satisfying while revealing to her the consequences of the very thing she accused him of being.
Liz eyed him with an insouciant look. When he continued to glare at her, she shrugged her shoulders in a show of petulance.
Jack narrowed his eyes and muttered irritably, “Testardo e testa dura? Io? Non ho dimenticato come si e sffaciato. A curved eyebrow rose in a scornful arch toward her chestnut mane. She scowled at him.
“I don’t have Google Translate on hand, Jack. Some help?” He didn’t bother to respond and tried to pry her legs open once more, growling when she still refused.
“Aprire le gambe cazzo.”
“Not impressing me with your sexy Italian, Jack. Get. Your. Finger. Out. Of. My. Pussy.”
He leaned into her until his nose was nestled against hers. His mouth defiantly brushed up against her lips in an act of brazen trespass.
“It’s not your pussy, baby. It’s mine. You just get to wear it.”
“It is not your―” she began but was cut off with a stinging rebuke.
“Cio che e tuo, e mio. Questa figa è mio. Hai capito bene?”
Pushing his knee in between hers, he forced her legs apart and added another finger to the first. He stared at her devilishly. The flinty specks and concentric swirls in his hazelnut-colored eyes glistened while they scoured her face for signs of mutiny.
“What’s yours is mine. This is mine,” He said in English. With a third finger, he rotated his hand while toggling her taut erect nub with his thumb.
Liz quivered as he once again awakened her hungry body.
“Now, behave, or I’ll leave you wanting with a hunger so great, you won’t be able to walk.”
“You bastard. God! you are such a pig, Jack. Everything to excess. You wouldn’t.”
“Wouldn’t I? Want to find out? Io ho una testa durissima. Tu recordi bene? Giusto? Allora, stai tranquillo. Lo so che tu capisci tutto. You don’t want to draw attention to us, do you?”
The throb that pulsed through her swollen loins became suffused with heat at the thought of the one act of retaliation that would tame his lust.
Outwardly, Liz appeared reserved if somewhat aloof. Yet, there lingered a hint of mystery in the depth of her eyes. At times, they were fulgent and mercurial. There was a mystique about them. How they seemed to be partially illuminated, like staring into lake water where the light dropped off into pitch black. It was the darkness that initially had drawn Jack’s attention from across the table at the cafe where they met.
Then, came the chemical reaction. The exothermic burn of instantaneous attraction. The conjoining of opposite halves of the same sphere in a spiritual weld. The confluence of two minds swept along on a voyage of exploration with the tantalizing prospect of discovering what self-imposed limitations, if any, existed.
There was nothing unimaginative about Liz. If thoroughly inspired, the timid persona that camouflaged the layers of repressed desire could be peeled back to bare the heart of an ardent sensualist. In matters of mental acuity, the easy mask of an observable prey mutated into a voracious predator when provoked. What just a minute before seemed so recognizably docile, suddenly shape-shifted with a look and a word to instantly upset the balance of power. It was extraordinary to watch those caught out of their depth to experience the zero moment of being ambushed and consumed by her acidic wit. She was wicked smart.
Jack couldn’t figure it. He’d never seen this behavior until now.
She was completely uninhibited and at once innately shy. It was mesmerizing to watch what looked like a lamb morph into a lioness. She was enigmatic, mixed with equal parts of extrovert and introvert. He wondered about this idiosyncratic nature. Was it that that she possessed or was there something that possessed her? It was because of these qualities that he found her so beguiling.
Her expressive eyes flared reactively. He had learned that the second those murky green orbs began to glimmer, one of two things was about to happen. Either she would hit him with some inane piece of information just to test his reaction or flex her might and sexually stimulate him right to the edge of his control.
His nostrils flared as he watched her slip a hand into the unzipped crotch of his jeans. Compressing his thick shank, she milked a pearlescent bead of seminal fluid from the knobby head and swabbed it onto the tip of her finger without spilling it. She stared vacantly into his eyes with a dissipated look and capped the private spectacle by smudging his essence onto her lips, then tasting it with a salacious swipe of her tongue.
She followed his eyes as they glazed over in an indulgent retreat behind closed lids. I got your number, you cocky bastard, she thought triumphantly. Her eyes sparkled with victory. No. He parried back with a nudge to her loins again.
“Hah-nee ... oh,” The carnal moan rose half an octave as Jack stroked and probed her fleshy succulence at the same time brushing his thumb over the anterior end of her vulva. He smiled as he felt her tighten around his hand.
“That was quick, baby.”
He pumped faster, pressing his thumb firmly against her erect clitoris. Her hips canted toward his hand and rocked in tight circular motions.
Liz erupted. Covering her mouth with his, he kissed her deeply, swallowing the desperate wail as she swooned from a climax that left her clutching at him.
“I love watching you lose yourself like that, sweetness. I'm sorry I was so rude. I’m impulsive and selfish at times. I get sick with wanting to bring you off. It's an obsession that burns inside me. There’s something very satisfying about having the ability to control your lover’s pleasure. It’s a powerful aphrodisiac. So seductive to watch you respond to my touch, to know you will fight me and then surrender. I can't tell you what that does to me.”
It was a guilty confession that was meant to placate her with the partial truth while hiding a deeper, more disturbing revelation about himself that he was unwilling to confront. Sex was not only about finding a physical and emotional release. It was also a mechanism to establish power through control and manipulation of another’s body and mind which was why it was so seductive in itself. It could become a dangerous game if one became consumed by the power instead of the seduction. The delineation was so fine as to be nearly seamless.
Liz gasped for breath and buried her face in his chest. He held her limp body and enfolded her in a tender embrace that left her reeling. Not for the first time, her heart thumped against her chest as she questioned the state of her own sanity.
Her willingness to embark on a journey on the back of a motorcycle with a man she hardly knew, a man she really didn’t know at all, scared her. Yet, try as she might, she couldn’t dampen the excitement that shuddered and unloosed her truant heart.
Jack had unlocked her dormant sexuality. It was a key that opened a locked book of cyphers; a secret language encrypted in a sexual code of hidden clues that could be pieced together to form something whole. There was his engaging, wolfish smile that made her toes curl and weakened her resolve time and again. Liz frowned and temporized about her willingness to surrender to the wavering emotions inside her heart. She had been hurt and disillusioned more than once in her life to become somewhat cynical as far as love and forever after was concerned.
Yet, there was something more profound going on between them that she couldn’t deny. An attraction that transcended the known realm of alchemy. It was as if the essence of one flowed into the other, creating an inexplicable bond.
Intellectually attuned and successful in the rigorous world of business, Liz initially refused to acknowledge the impact that Jack had on her life. She was inclined to over analyze every possible scenario before feeling comfortable enough to make an informed decision. In the past, when she had acted on impulse, it had come at an enormous cost. Once more she found herself caught out beyond her limits.
