Page 48 of Jacking Jill

She managed to grab her panties off his face. She balled them up tight, aimed carefully, and hurled them into the corner of the room where her tights had landed. She glared at Jack’s grinning face for one hotly embarrassed moment, then buried her face in the fleece blanket again.

A crackling, electric silence descended over them. Jill’s entire body felt alive and awake, tingly and tender. She was about to poke her head out when she heard movement on the carpet beside her bed. Jill gasped silently, then wriggled her body away from the bed’s edge until her butt touched the wall.

The stealthy sounds of approaching manliness sent ripples through her tingling body, and Jill gasped again when she felt Jack’s weight press down on the mattress. Slowly she peeked out past the top of the blanket. Her breath caught when she realized she was looking right into his eyes.

“Did I ever tell you what my second-favorite porno-movie plot is?” he whispered devilishly as Jill blinked in the darkness, her smile broad and beaming, her body happy and humming.

“Panties dropping from the sky?” she teased.

Jack gazed at her with a strange intensity, then shook his head. “No,” he whispered, moving closer to her until they were both curled sideways on the bed, facing each other in the shining darkness. “It’s the plotline where the man says I love you and the woman says I love you too.”

Jill blinked about a hundred times as waves of the most wonderful warmth flowed through her buzzing body. “I . . . I don’t think I’ve encountered that plotline in a porno movie,” she said, trying to tease but unable to keep the tremble out of her tone.

“Well, you’re about to encounter it,” he whispered.

Jill giggled nervously, then gasped when she saw that Jack was serious as hell, that this wasn’t just his cocky game anymore, that this was for real, this was for the win.

“Oh, Jack, this is . . . crazy,” she whispered as Jack leaned closer now, the two of them ensconced in a dark room whose walls seemed like a flimsy background of a stage-set, like at any moment those walls might fall away to reveal a deeper reality where the two of them were the center of the universe, making it clear that the only purpose of events was to bring them together, that all of existence was a trick of light and shadows, everything just a peacock-dance of color and coincidence, space and time, man and woman. This man and this woman. “Oh, Jack, I don’t know what to say.”

“I do,” whispered Jack. “I know damn well what to say.”

Jack ran his fingertips along her cheek now, sending the most awesome tingle of warmth through Jill’s curled-up body. She stared in disbelief at the intensity of his gaze, and once again that surreal feeling of familiarity rippled through her, like she knew this man in the deepest way you could know anyone, that they’d lived a lifetime in a day together, that there was no other explanation for this depth of feeling, this intensity of emotion, this certainty of sensation.

Jill nodded in wide-eyed wonder as Jack stroked her cheek tenderly. He brushed a strand of hair from her forehead, gazed at her like time had slowed to the point where she could feel each emotion linger and build upon itself, transporting her to some higher plane of feeling, someplace where the real world was tiny and distant, where the details of the day were nothing more than a footnote to the real story.

The story of Jack and Jill.

Him and her.

You and me.

“You’re mine, Jill,” he whispered in the poignant darkness, his words meeting her thoughts like two dancers meeting in the center of the round, like Jack was seeing what Jill had just seen, caught a glimpse of the vivid reality behind the veneer of the physical world. “You’re mine and I love you, Jill. I love you.”

“Oh, Jack, I . . . I love you too.” Jill heard herself say the words and was once again overwhelmed by that surreal sensation that the real story wasn’t going on out there but in here, that there was no bigger picture, that everything else was tiny and distant compared to the magnitude of what she was feeling right now. “Are we crazy for saying it, Jack?”

“Not with this crowd,” Jack said with a smile, studying her face lovingly for a moment, then leaning close enough for Jill to feel his warm breath on her wet lips. “With this crowd we fit right in, baby. Jack and Jill in the house. Here comes the kiss.”

Jack’s lips drew close now, closer, so close . . .

Then he stopped abruptly, raised an eyebrow, peered suspiciously off to the side. “That’s strange,” he whispered. “I expected some suspiciously coincidental interruption to stop us just before we kissed.”

Jill glared at him with stern amusement. “You mean like the way you’re interrupting the kiss by waiting for something to interrupt the kiss?”

Jack grinned. “Just giving the universe one last chance to object.” He rolled his gaze around the room. “I think we’re good.”

Jill nodded very seriously. “I think so too.”

She grinned. Jack chuckled.

And then he kissed her.

Slow and sweet, delicate and deliberate, carefully and completely.

He kissed her.

By God, he kissed her.

16

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