The Mistress Mistake

He made no move to rush into conversation, and Jessica relaxed under the bright rays of the sun, enjoying the warmth on her skin and tired muscles. Even though she knew she had to tell

him about her job by tomorrow, she put it on the back burner and just enjoyed this time with him. She accepted that, in her mind at least, their relationship had changed with her scholarship and job. She didn't have to accept his money anymore, and even though he didn't know it yet, she did, and that made all the difference in the world to her bruised heart and battered morale.

Suddenly, to her way of thinking, they were on more level footing, equals in this crazy relationship they'd forged. Her eyes slipped closed, and she floated for a moment, letting all the angst slip away as she enjoyed the tactile feel of the sun on her face and the water under her hand where she twirled it beside her.

When she heard his deep sigh, her eyes flew open and landed on him, where he was staring at the marks he'd left on her breast, on full display in the tiny swimsuit top. The muscles in the side of his face worked, and when he began to speak, he didn't raise his eyes away from her chest. "I wanted a relationship like this one because--"

When Jessica realized that he was finally going to answer her question of the night before, her heart started racing in her chest. But when his words stalled, so did the beat of her heart.

She waited for him to start speaking again, too afraid to spoil the moment, and not knowing what to say anyway.

His hand caressed her leg, running from the arch of her foot to her knee and then back again. "Because . . . I have a strong sex drive, Jessica. That was probably the best thing about marriage. Not having to go out and find sex."

When he said the word 'marriage', Jessica almost fainted and fell from her float. She just managed to stay still and control any involuntarily jerk her body wanted to make. A ribbon of jealousy that she couldn't deny swirled down and settled in her stomach. But again, she was completely speechless, and waited for him to continue.

"And after Val died, there I was, alone again. Week after week, sometimes night after night . . . sleeping with a different woman all the time lost its appeal, very quickly."

The jealousy mostly disappeared with his words and empathy took its place. She was completely caught off guard; when he'd mentioned marriage she'd quickly assumed there had been a divorce, but now she was shaken to find out he'd lost his wife, and it was all suddenly becoming clear, in a hazy sort of way, why he had done what he had. He cleared his throat and looked away, into the sparkling water, and Jessica knew that that was it. He was through talking. If she wanted to know anything more, she was going to have to ask. "I'm so sorry, Connor." She let the words fall and land between them, but he only nodded once and continued to look away from her. "How long ago did she die?"

"A little over a year ago, in a car accident."

Jessica was relieved he'd at least given her that much information, and it bolstered her nerves to continue. "If you had such a good marriage the first time . . . " She kept her voice soft and gentle, " . . . And you enjoy being in a relationship so much, why wouldn't you have just tried to move on? Find another woman to share your life with?" She lowered her voice an octave and said slowly and softly, "It wouldn't have been hard, you know. You're well-off, educated, incredibly good-looking--"

His eyes came back to hers and he cut her off. "You don't understand. Val loved me. She loved me with everything she had to give, and I--" His words stopped again as he took a deep breath. "Never mind. I don't want to talk about this anymore, okay?"

Jessica had a million more questions but she knew when to stop. She had some pieces of the puzzle now, but not the one piece that she desperately needed. He needed time. The anguish she'd seen in his eyes cut her deeply and all she wanted to do was to soothe him. She gave him a bittersweet smile and nodded her head. "Okay." Shutting her eyes, she pretended to rest in the sunlight, while inside, the puzzle that was Connor Montgomery was driving her crazy.

****

They'd spent the day in easy companionship. They floated and swam, and grilled hamburgers for supper. There had been one entirely too hot make out session in the swimming pool, but it was daylight and Saturday, and the neighborhood children were playing and could be heard in the distance. It wasn't conducive for outdoor sex, even with a six-foot wooden fence, and Jessica was thankful that Connor hadn't pushed it.

But now, coming from her shower and her muscles warm and relaxed from the day in the sun, the things he'd shared with her earlier made her heart bleed for him. He'd been in pain, and she wanted to soothe that pain, in any way she could.

And she knew the thing he'd be most able to accept from her.

Night had fallen, and dressed in only her sleeping shirt and panties, she walked into the living room and found him relaxed on the couch, clean from the shower he'd undoubtedly had in one of the other bathrooms and dressed in another pair of shorts, watching television.

When she saw him sitting there, she knew what she wanted to do. It was something she'd been thinking about for some time now, and after learning what she had, she wanted to comfort him, wanted to take their intimacy to a new level. In her mind, there wasn't an issue of money between them any longer, and what she wanted to do with him came from her heart, and had nothing to do with anything else. When his eyes fell on hers, they lit with an unmistakable light that was a balm to her soul, and he raised his hand in a deceptively lazy fashion for her to join him.

She walked to him and accepted his hand, sitting down beside him. Lifting the remote control from the coffee table, she turned off the television with a single press of a button. Turning back, she found his heated scrutiny fastened on her every movement and knew that, if she wanted her way just now, she needed to make a move and quickly, before he pounced on her.

Her heart beating crazily, she cocked her head to the side, and hid partially behind the fall of her hair, as she tried to hold his eyes. She licked her dry lips and attempted to make her voice strong and flirty but knew she hadn't pulled it off entirely when she heard her own whisper, "Do you want to play a game?"

His nostrils flared and his eyes fell to her lips and there was no question he recognized his own words coming back at him and what they implied. "What do you have in mind?" The frog she heard in his throat and the red that tinged his cheekbones gave her courage to keep going.

"Can we pretend that we're dating?" She again borrowed the words he'd used once before, and while she spoke, she let go of his hand and levered herself from the couch. She landed with her knees on the floor and pushed her torso between his spread thighs. Her words continued in whispers, which was still all she could manage. "We could pretend that until very recently, I was a virgin." Her hands landed on the steely muscles of his thighs and her eyes slid to the bulge in his shorts. "And that even though you've taught me a lot of new things . . . " Her hand slid to his erection and she felt the heat coming from him in waves through the material of his shorts. " . . . there's something I've never done before." Her eyes lifted and tangled with his and she stopped speaking all together as she waited for his reaction.

She didn't have to wait long. He inhaled sharply and she watched in fascination as his Adam's apple convulsed in his throat. "Jesus Christ, Jessica. Are you offering to give me head?"

Fire licking through her at his blunt question, she nodded her head, just once.

His eyes narrowed and his muscles tensed. "I don't want to pretend. I want to know the truth, for real. Have you ever done it before?"

She shook her head. "No."

His hand speared into her hair and he gripped the side of her head. "And this is something you want to do?"

"Yes." Her bravery fled. "If it's what you want."

"Oh, fuck, yeah, sweetheart," he said in a guttural groan.

She blushed. She actually felt herself blush at the vehemence in his tone. "Okay. But I don't know how--"

"It's okay." He began to soothe her immediately. "No problem. I'll teach you how. Would it make you feel better if I give you step by step instructions?" He was looking deep into her eyes and his hand became caressing.

She didn't know if he was teasing or if he was serious. "Y-yes, ac

tually. Would that be okay?"

"I can't think of anything better. But let me tell you one thing now. You can't hurt me. And no matter what you do to me, it will feel good to me. So don't worry about trying to do it right. Anything you do will be right, I promise you that." His voice was rough, driven with desire.

"I don't know what I'm supposed to do after . . . afterward. You know, with the stuff. I've read that you're supposed to swallow it, but I--"

He must have read the indecision in her eyes because he began shaking his head and cut in, "You don't have to swallow it." His attention slid to her mouth and then focused on her eyes again. "You can if you want, but sweetheart, not if it makes you uncomfortable. You put that sweet little mouth on me . . . that's all I could ever ask for." Not giving her even a second to change her mind, he lifted her hand where she absently caressed him, shrugged out of his shorts and underwear, and sat back down again.

"Come here a minute," he ordered, as he lifted her under her arms and brought her up over him, to straddle him. He wrapped his arms around her, and began kissing her, so hotly and deeply she almost forgot about what she wanted to do to him. His tongue dueled with hers and his hands ran up and down her spine in a heated caress. On an upward stroke, he lifted her t-shirt, broke the kiss just long enough to pull the shirt over her head, and tossed it aside. Before she could cut it off, she let out a tiny, uncontrollable sound of distress.

He fastened his hand to her chin and locked her eyes with his. "No. We're past that shit, baby." With his free hand, his palm encompassed the breast he'd marked so thoroughly the night before. "You gave these to me last night, of your own free will, and you can't take them back. I won't let you. They're mine now, just like the rest of you, understand?"