Later though, when Jake was once again capable of coherent thought and speech, he debated listening to the message. But it was getting late. Whoever called could wait until morning.
If the phone hadn’t rung again moments later and yet a third and fourth time shortly after that, he might have persevered in his decision. But he’d been in restaurant crisis management too long to ignore the fourth call.
“Do you mind?” It was politesse only; he was already rolling into a seated position on the edge of the bed and stripping off his condom. A second later, he punched into the voice mail and listened to the increasingly frantic messages before glancing at Liv. “I have to respond to these,” he gruffly noted. “My manager in L.A. is negotiating for some hard-to-get wines. Devain’s vineyard only produces a few cases a year.” He smoothed his palms over his hair and blew out a breath. “I don’t want to lose them.”
“You don’t want to lose wines like that,” Liv murmured, stretching lazily, knowing Devain as well as any wine connoisseur. “No problem. I’ll wait.”
His dark brows came together in a frown. “This could take a while. He’s a prick to deal with.”
Coming up on her elbows, she looked at him squarely. “Are you brushing me off?” She was never brushed off, which may have accounted for her mildly pugnacious tone. Or maybe the idea of relinquishing the pleasure he offered displeased her more.
“God, no,” he said, leaning over and dropping a conciliatory kiss on her cheek. “Stay a week.” Anyone knowing Jake would have been shocked by his statement. “In fact,” he added, immune to previous lifestyle habits when right after this phone call, getting off again was number one on his list, “I’ll be right back with something to amuse you while I talk this over with Eduardo.”
“I’m not in the mood to read,” Liv drolly noted.
He winked. “You won’t be reading, babe.” Coming to his feet, he jabbed a finger at her. “Now, stay put.”
“Yes, sir, whatever you say, sir,” she teasingly replied.
He grinned. “I can see we’re gonna get along just fine.”
They were already getting along finer than she’d ever gotten along with anyone, but his ego probably didn’t need further stroking.
She watched him walk away: tall and tanned-swarthy by nature, she suspected-muscled like a stevedore, handsome as sin… with a cock to die for and a real proficiency at using it. She’d be crazy not to wait.
And before she had time to do more than thank her lucky stars for having stopped by, Jake returned from the kitchen balancing a large, peeled zucchini upright on his palm. It had been carved into a realistic facsimile of an erect penis with smoothly rounded glans, sculpted veins and the slight arc of full-blown arousal.
“Here’s something to keep you interested until I’m off the phone. I wouldn’t want you to be unhappy while you’re waiting.”
“It doesn’t look like I will be. You’re so very talented,” Liv purred, her body already opening in anticipation.
“Ice swans or dildos, it’s all in a day’s work,” he said with a grin. “But more importantly,” he added, sitting down on the edge of the bed, “let’s see if I figured the size right. I was guessing you’d like the economy size.” Leaning over, he eased her legs apart with one hand and slipped the smooth head past her labia, slowly forcing the large dildo deep inside her.
The coolness, the exquisite pressure instantly triggered her already overwrought nerves. She shivered as a shimmering rush of arousal washed over her. No longer questioning her inexplicable longing, she basked in the feverish glow instead, giving Jake high marks for estimating the perfect, optimal size. The zucchini was big, but not too big or almost… almost… too big in the most exquisite possible way.
When he finally whispered, “There. It’s all the way in,” and nudged it just a little deeper with his palm, she shut her eyes against the wild, explosive delirium convulsing her senses.
“I’m not usually like this,” she panted a moment later, as if she needed to apologize for her lack of restraint. But with an enormous dildo cramming her full, with her every sexual receptor singing the “Hallelujah Chorus” at frenzied pitch, she decided it didn’t really matter about restraint or the lack thereof.
“Hey, everything’s good,” Jake whispered. “Go for it.”
How sweet he was-not selfish, chivalrous even, thinking of her pleasure, apparently understanding the finer points of truth and beauty as related to unbridled desire as well.
And since when had she felt the need to apologize for her sexual urges?
Never.
So there.
Having rationalized away her novel unease having to do with really blissfully countless orgasms that she had to admit were unusual even in her worldly take on life, she stopped quibbling or thinking at all and gave herself up to the extraordinary, superacute pleasure occasioned by Jake’s sculptural talents.
She screamed more than usual when she came the next time.
Perhaps he wouldn’t make his call just yet, Jake decided. Perhaps he’d first talk to her about making less noise. Diplomatically, of course.
On the other hand, it wasn’t as though Eduardo would really give a damn.
Christ, what was he thinking?
Withdrawing the dildo marginally, he shoved it back in and smiled faintly at her gratified sigh. “Enjoy yourself, darling. I’ll make this quick,” he murmured, settling once again into a gentle, adroit rhythm of arousal as he reached for the phone.
Negotiating via a conference call with Eduardo and Devain to save time, Jake kept the conversation as brief as possible. He wasn’t in the mood to quibble over price, which speeded up the process considerably, not to mention Jake’s French was serviceable enough to soothe over Devain ’s notorious irritability.
A price was agreed on in mere minutes, the rare wines locked in for Jake’s restaurants. As Jake made his adieus, Christophe Devain, owner of one of the best vineyards in the world, said, “Jake,
Jake didn’t offer demur. He only said, “
Immediately Jake set down the phone, he forgot what- only hours before-would have been a coup of prime import. Rare Bordeaux vintages were dismissed from his thoughts, as was Eduardo’s earlier hysteria. Reaching for one of Chaz’s convenient supply of condoms, he shifted his attention to more pressing activities.
A moment later, the zucchini dildo was tossed aside, Jake settled between Liv’s legs, and the two individuals on the Bollywood bed returned to their quest for the perfect orgasm.
Eight
The next morning Jake walked Liv out to her truck. “Christ, the sun’s barely up,” he muttered, squinting at the pink glow in the east.
“My work crew comes in early. I try to be there in case anyone has any questions. Or wants to bitch. You didn’t have to get up.” She grinned. “I could have sent you a dozen roses and a thank-you note.”
He grinned back. “Make it red roses. You
“I should apologize”-her brows flickered-“although I think I did a bunch of times already.”
She always had-right before she asked for it again. “Hey, babe, I’m only teasing. The pleasure was all mine.” He opened the driver’s door for her.
She climbed in, Jake shut the door and, rolling down her window, Liv said with a smile, “Thanks again. I had a really good time.” No one in Minnesota ever got in their car after a visit and just drove away. The Minnesota good- bye was lingering and often involved several extra cups of coffee-although in this case sex had been substituted for coffee.
“Come keep me company again-anytime.” Jake’s reluctance to have her leave had nothing to do with Minnesota good-byes. He was still horny.
“I might take you up on that.”
“Please do. I’m at loose ends for a while. I’ll feed you, too.” For a man who preferred one-night stands, he surprised even himself with the invitation.
“It’s busy this time of year for me. I’ll give you a call before I come over.”
