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Jessica Noble stood at her kitchen window and watched Kurt Merchant pull up in front of her house in the Mercedes he’d borrowed from Jessica’s half-sister, Gretel Fox. Jessica felt hotter than her oven, preheated to 350 degrees, despite the November weather. Gretel had manipulated their boss into firing both Kurt and Jessica before brazenly stripping Kurt of his business achievement trophy in front of hundreds of diner’s at Baltimore’s Vanguard Awards Ceremonies.
And Kurt still craved Gretel!
Kurt looked concerned trudging up the sidewalk to Jessica’s front door.
When the doorbell rang, Jessica thought, I’ll show him how to suffer! She opened the oven door and flung a loaf of French bread inside before slamming the oven shut.
Strolling to her front door, she smiled. Taming a male chauvinist pig should be fun, especially when she made him go down on her. She opened the door. Her brown slacks and tan sweater with a gold floral appliqué gave no hint at the ambush she planned. Her brown casual flats lowered the bar even further.
“Sorry I took so long,” he apologized. “Must have talked my head off.”
“About what?” Jessica detested Lila Krafft for pumping information from her patients and suspected the Bad Doctor had lost her license to practice psychological counseling.
“Dr. Krafft instructed me to clear my head after the session.”
“Charlatan!” Jessica snapped. “Lila shouldn’t leave you in the dark.”
“At least I feel relaxed. I’m getting some benefit.”
Jessica smiled. “Help me in the kitchen.” She led the way. “My spaghetti sauce has been simmering for hours.”
“Smells terrific.”
“It’s an old family recipe. I put the French bread in the oven when you rang the doorbell. I’ll boil the angel hair.” She pointed to a large bowl of lettuce and several vegetables on a chopping block on the island in the kitchen. “Cut up some tomatoes, cucumbers, and green peppers for the salad. Would you like to slice an onion, too?”
“No onions today.” He looked unflinchingly into her eyes.
“That was a tad obvious, Kurt. Hate to burst your bubble, but garlic and onions are in the sauce.” The pot of water boiled. Jessica took half of the pasta from a box and put the box on a shelf. She broke in half the strands she was holding and put them in the pot.
Kurt chopped away at the vegetables, sliced an onion, and mixed all of the ingredients with a large wooden fork and spoon.
Jessica handed him a corkscrew. “There’s a bottle of merlot in the fridge. Would you do the honors?” He’d be putty in her hands after a bottle of wine.
Kurt popped the cork, and soon they were seated at Jessica’s kitchen table. “This is delicious,” Kurt said. “When you said ‘old family recipe,’ I thought you meant Uncle Prego or Aunt Ragu.”
“Skeptic.” She gazed out her kitchen window. “Beautiful day.”
“What’s in your sauce?”
“You don’t strike me as a recipe collector.”
Kurt twirled some spaghetti around his fork, against a spoon, and lifted the spicy morsel to his lips. “Mmm.” He chewed thoroughly and swallowed. “The ingredients in a recipe reveal a lot about the cook.”
“If you insist, I used the eye of a newt, the wing of a bat—”
“Oh, Gretel’s recipe.”
“So, today she’s a witch. Last night you lusted for her. Which is it? Are you attracted to her or repelled by her?”
“Both.”
“You’re hooked. I’ll change that.” She delivered her obvious line offhandedly, but she fully intended to steal Kurt from Gretel. First she’d make him suffer.
“If you two are sisters, why are you so different?”
Jessica sipped her wine, weighing her answer. “Birth order explains a lot. As a first-born, I’m more serious.”
“Emphatically!” Kurt poked at his salad but took a gulp of wine instead. “You two are like night and day!”
“I’m six years older than she is.” She feigned a serious look. “Don’t you dare do any math! I had to take care of her when we were kids. She’s still irresponsible.”
Kurt chewed and swallowed another bite of spaghetti while Jessica was talking. “Your attitudes toward men are different.”
Jessica ran her finger around the rim of her wine glass. “Gretel and I both have low opinions of men. I distrust men. She thinks they’re all toys for her to play with.”
“You don’t even look alike. You’ve got brown eyes and dark brown hair. Gretel’s a green-eyed blonde.”
“So?” Jessica pushed her plate away. “Two brown-eyed parents could have a brown-eyed daughter and a daughter with light-colored eyes. Against the odds, but it happens. They’re more likely to have two brown-eyed children. Mendel’s Law. Mom has honey-colored eyes, helping the odds, a little, for Gretel to have light-colored eyes. You Beypazarı Escort through with your plate?”
“You kidding?” Kurt pulled his plate closer to him. “I’ve got my eyes on your plate, if you’re not going to eat your spaghetti.”
“Pig,” she smiled. She scraped the contents from her plate onto his and put her plate back on the table. Gulping down the rest of her glass of wine, she refilled the glass. “Know what I really think?”
Kurt twisted the cork off the corkscrew and took a shot at the trashcan in the corner. The cork banked off the wall, into the can. “Tell me.”
“Nice shot. My dad was the nicest guy you’d ever meet. Jack Noble. Dignified, friendly, always looking out for the needs of others.”
“Like you.”
“Thank you.” Jessica enjoyed Kurt’s ass-kissing and yearned to make it literal. She took another large drink of wine, held it in her mouth, and swallowed. “He died shortly after Gretel was born. But I don’t think he was her father.”
“Think your mom cheated on Mr. Noble?” Kurt guzzled a glass of wine and refilled.
“Mom’s been married five times. She’s got a bunch of lovers now. She probably did then.” Jessica repeated the drink, hold, and swallow ritual. “Honey’s second husband was Penrod Teagarden, a charming, shallow flake who taught English at a New York college, which shall go nameless to protect the innocent. How he ever got on the faculty is beyond me. I think he was Gretel’s natural father.”
“You think Gretel is more like him than Mr. Noble?”
“Except for the flake part. Gretel is crafty, like Mom. Mom and Peabrain make you feel like the most important person in the world—while you’re with them. Then, out of sight, out of mind. Gretel got a double dose of the idea that people are expendable.”
Kurt swallowed his wine and held the bottle over his glass for several seconds. “What happened to Peagarden?” He giggled like a schoolboy at his mangling of the name.
“‘Nother bottle in the fridge. He disappeared when I was nine and Gretel was three. Stayed around long enough to screw up her formative years. Then took off.”
Kurt retrieved the second bottle from the refrigerator, opened it with some difficulty, and took a shot with the new cork. It bounced off the kitchen window, nowhere near the trashcan. “Asshole.”
Jessica started to stand up but reconsidered. “That’s my beloved stepfather you’re talking about. And that was a terrible shot. You’re cut off.”
“No! Anything but that!”
She grinned lecherously, feeling empowered. “I meant the wine.” Bringing Kurt to his knees would be easy.
“Pretty please?”
“OK, but slow down.” Jessica ambled over to the coffeemaker and put on a pot. “So, let’s get serious, Kurt. What are your plans now that BizMart is out of the picture?”
“Haven’t given it much thought. How about you?”
“You know that deal you negotiated for Mom? The educational DVDs? She’s trying to set me up in business.”
“Great! Glad you’ve got something to fall back on.”
“I could use a partner.” She let the ambiguity linger, and he took the bait.
“Just say when!”
“Business partner.”
“Oh.” He put his glass of wine down. “Not as much fun as being a business broker. At BizMart I feel—felt—like a pimp.”
“Mom will hire you.” Jessica felt a frisson of delight skewering both of them.
“Jessica.”
“Well, what are you planning to do? I heard about the no-compete clause.” Biz-Mart had made Kurt agree to refrain from business brokerage anywhere near Baltimore.
“I could take my severance pay and move on. Or I could stay here in Baltimore and start a new career.”
“Gretel told me she gave you two options at the Vanguard meeting last night: Join her team or become her lackey. She usually gets her way.” Conceding Gretel’s allure left a bad taste in Jessica’s mouth, but she had to see how much Kurt was hooked on Little Sister.
“That’s no choice. That’s an edict to bow down to her. Maybe I should take the money and run.”
Jessica walked to the coffeemaker and poured two cups. She put one at her place and the other at Kurt’s. When he reached for it, she put her hand on his. “Stay here in Baltimore. Let me help you. I’m not afraid of my little sister.”
“Me either.” He doctored his coffee and took a large swallow. “Good stuff. Gretel doesn’t frighten me, but my reactions to her frighten the daylights out of me.”
Jessica remained standing, took a sip of coffee, and put her cup back down. Her desire to wipe Gretel from Kurt’s memory consumed her. “I bought a new dress this morning. Want to see it?” She strolled toward her living room.
“La-de-da,” Kurt pooh-poohed Jessica’s announcement. “A Beypazarı Escort Bayan dress is just gift wrapping.” But he followed her into the living room.
“Not mine,” she said. “This dress is me. Not just the body I was born with. Or the way life has shaped me. My dress is my essence.”
“Wow! Sounds like some kind of philosophy.”
“Perhaps existentialism.”
“Sure, that’s what I was going to say.” Kurt looked heavenward. Jessica could tell philosophy strained his intellectual capacity. Naming a philosophy was out of the question. He finally spotted the large box on the coffee table and a smaller box on top. “So what kind of dress is it? Some exotic animal skin?”
“Leather, Kurt. Not just a skirt. Or a top. Or the combination. But a whole, sleek dress of leather, tracing my entire torso in smooth, curved lines.” Her skin tingled just saying the words.
Jessica watched Kurt’s face while her verbal picture unnerved him. His furtive look suggested a sense of being trapped but wanting her to tease him. “What’s in the other box?”
“Boots.”
“Of course.” His gesture started as a shrug but morphed into a hands-up sign of surrender. “And a whip?” He already looked beaten. He wanted Jessica to whip him.
“Not my style. I don’t need to punish a man to get my way. Not physically, anyway.”
Kurt walked toward the box. “Let me see.”
She pounced in front of him. “I’ll model my outfit for you.” She picked up both boxes and strode up the stairway to her bedroom.
Once inside, she closed the door. She put her boxes on the bed, stepped out of her shoes, and slid them under the bed. Stripping quickly, she tossed her clothes in the hamper and took a black, satin garterbelt and bra from her bottom center dresser drawer. Hooking her bra and garterbelt, Jessica felt her heart pounding when she imagined Kurt’s anticipation mushrooming while he waited for her. He’d expect her to return downstairs to show off her dress.
He’d be mistaken.
Jessica sat on the edge of her bed to slip into a pair of sheer black stockings and attach them to her garters. Glancing at herself in the dresser mirror, she knew she was irresistible. But Kurt’s fetishes went beyond intimate apparel to outerwear itself. Gretel had undone him with a shiny gold dress. Jessica opened the box with her boots and placed them beside the bed. Then she took her dress—glossy, black leather—from its box, pausing to admire it before placing it on the floor in such a way that she could easily step inside and pull it up around her.
Scurrying to the window, she pulled the blinds, carefully retraced her steps, and closed her eyes to wait for Kurt. Time dragged by, but she knew Kurt was beside himself with anxiety.
Soon she heard his shoes clomping up the stairs. When he flung the door open, Jessica felt like a goddess in her personal shrine, standing in pale splendor, accented by her black satin appetizers. Eyes closed tight, she felt the power of her glory dismantling Kurt. “Close the door.” Her eyes remained shut.
He pushed the door gently. The latch clicked.
Jessica’s closed eyes, accustomed to the dark, opened slowly. She soaked in Kurt’s every reaction to her, a silent, telling symphony of praise, while she stepped into her black, glossy dress and slithered it up her wiggling torso. The leather pressing her flesh felt sensual.
She turned her back to him. “Zip me up.”
She could hear Kurt approach, torn by lust, not trusting himself. Jessica’s leather dress seemed to radiate palpable rays of power subduing Kurt’s will. “I can’t,” he whispered.
Jessica faced him, exultant in defeating him, eager to deepen her victory with his physical submission. “Poor dear.” Her throaty giggle even managed to arouse her. She put her hands behind her back. When the crunching whir of her zipper sealed her inside, her leather morphed into black armor, magnifying her allure because she was unattainable.
She cherished his crestfallen face, wracked with hurt and utter confusion. She saw his pupils expand and glanced in the mirror to confirm what Kurt saw. Her tight leather showcased flaring hips, thrusting breasts, and the small mounds of her ass tapering into shapely legs. She recalled a line from “Venus:” “She’s got it, yeah, baby, she’s got it.” Kurt’s eyes adjusting to the dark reflected how his growing enchantment unfolded in stages. The subtle glimmer of Jessica’s gradually grew to bold glistening.
Kurt’s cheeks turned dark pink. “Let’s go.”
She seemingly channeled Gretel’s spirit. “Don’t be shy.” Her words mocked him.
“Ever watch a rugby match? They used to play at Herring Run Park. Want to see if they still play there?”
“Put Escort Beypazarı my boots on me.” She sat on the edge of her bed.
Kurt knelt before her, humility etched across his face—and more than a hint of joy in his submission. A grin played at the edges of his mouth while he slid her boots up her ankles. His hands shimmied up the sides of one boot and then the other, smoothing them along her legs. She savored his reluctance to remove his hands from her boots and her legs, his contented gaze at her legs while he made no attempt to stand up.
“You may rise.”
He stood hesitantly and walked over to open the door.
She strolled casually toward him, watching her sexuality intimidate him. His hand shook when he opened the door. She stepped past him, not quite touching, into the hall. The slanting rays of the afternoon sunlight streaming through her house transmuted her leather into superskin. Liquid shadows glossed Jessica’s curves in bold relief. When she slinked toward the stairs, the flexure of her hips and the rolling motion of her ass spellbound Kurt. She stopped to wiggle her hands into shiny leather gloves.
He caught up with her in three giant steps. Her magnificent derriere resembled two small leather cushions pressed together as tightly as he suddenly wanted to press his cheeks against her ass, the way Judd had kissed Gretel’s ass. Circling her waist with his arms, Kurt pressed his hard cock against Jessica’s posterior. “You’re fantastic.”
She pushed her buttocks tighter against his groin and swiveled her hips.
“I’d better leave,” he said.
She had annihilated him. “No, baby. We’ll go back to my bedroom. You first. Raise the shades. I’ve never felt so sexy in my life, and I want to flaunt it.”
A new surge of energy surged through her while Kurt rushed to obey her command to illuminate her glory. She followed him into the room. When he turned around, she watched his eyes rivet on her firm thighs straining into leather. He licked his lips.
“Kneel by the bed,” she said.
Dazed, he obeyed without question.
She brushed his cheek with her hip when she passed. Lifting the skirt of her dress, she sat on the edge of the bed. “Do you need directions?” she asked.
Kurt silently shook his head, No.
She could see his last remaining IQ points drain from his head at the touch of her gloved hand. She guided his face between her thighs, igniting a mighty rush. But she wanted to make it last.
Kurt placed his palms against her flesh, over her outer lips, thumbs down. Interlacing his fingers, he pushed her outer lips apart with his thumbs and held them open. He pressed his face firmly and deeply into her, probing randomly, letting her reactions guide him. He varied his tongue movements from quick, short licks to long, slow laps she could savor.
Jessica instructed Kurt in pleasuring her, barking her orders or whispering her encouragement as the mood struck her, guiding him around her pleasure zone as if he were her new toy, responding precisely to the sound of her voice. Her building orgasms made her quiver before she even came close to climaxing.
Kurt occasionally nuzzled her clitoris with his nose. He tried to tease and tantalize her, but Jessica ruled with an iron hand and reveled in controlling him. She barked, “Do it!” Kurt raised his mouth to Jessica’s clitoris and attacked it gently, incessantly. He obviously shared Jessica’s aversion to hurrying because he knew the lightning a man bottle from relinquishing his will to a woman. With a flourish of licks that toggled back and forth across Jessica’s clitoris, Kurt quickly brought her to a climax.
She stood and smoothed out her leather dress, the essence of sex. “Thank you, Kurt.”
“That’s it?”
He’d gratified her and obviously wanted her to please him. She relished crushing him slowly, punishing him for falling for someone as shallow as Gretel. “I’ve had better.”
“What about me?”
In Jessica’s mind, she’d rewarded him already. “Weren’t you going to watch some rugby?”
“Do you want me to beg?”
Of course she did, but she turned pragmatic. “Do you have a condom?”
“No.”
“Too bad.” Jessica stretched luxuriously and watched Kurt come completely unhinged while her flesh strained against leather. “You said Gretel forbade you to have sex with me. But oral sex isn’t sex, as someone famous once said. Gretel won’t beat you up. Come back when you’re committed enough to bring a condom.”
“Dueling ovaries,” Kurt said glumly.
“Choose wisely,” Jessica advised. “If you accept my bliss, you’ll have to deal with Gretel’s cruelty. She never gives up. But if you choose Gretel, we’ll both torment you.”
Jessica watched Kurt shuffle dejectedly from the room, heard his shoes thump softly down the stairs, and listened to the front door slam.
No matter where he traveled in the physical world, psychologically Kurt was in the palm of Jessica’s hand.
And she would take her sweet time deciding what to do with him.
The End
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