8

HOPE LOOKED UP FROM A SLIDE to see that it was a quarter after six. Her stomach was filled with butterflies, and her mind raced through every possible excuse she could make not to go out with Jackson even as she admitted that calling it off now was a lousy thing to do.

She had been putting off that phone call all day, even though she knew she should not do that. She had buried herself in the work she could manage to get done, and now, at the end of the day, she was really considering just hiding out there in the lab.

“For what? Forever? Or just until he figures out you were a coward and ditched him at the last minute without a word, rather than make a phone call?’

The question was soft even though the part of the lab that she was in was unoccupied by everyone but her. It was a conundrum she did not want to be a part of. Jackson was hot, and he was nicer than she would have guessed. He had a well-deserved rep for being a player, but what if he had grown up and changed like he seemed to have?

There was still the sticky issue of him being a super-rich guy with a lot of ambition, and she was always going to be a struggling researcher trying her best to save humanity. It was a noble thing, and while there might be money at the end of it all, most of what money the cure she would, maybe, one day create would be eaten up by the grant boards and the pharmaceutical companies.

She sighed. There were two options: call it off or head across campus and make that date.

Torn between badly wanting to go and badly wanting to cancel, Hope finally finished up and headed for her apartment, running as was her habit.

The air was cold and crisp, and the trees were beginning to look brighter every day. Usually, she reveled in such things, but right then she did not even notice. Her feet kicked up a litany of reasons to go, and a litany of reasons not to go.

By the time she reached her apartment, it was six thirty, and she knew he would already be on his way. It was a long drive through heavy traffic, and he would have left his house a few minutes before to be on time.

That made her feel better. She could not cancel now. She dashed inside and showered fast. After she dried off, she rubbed a sweet-smelling lotion into her skin and then headed into her bedroom to dress.

Once in the bedroom, she waffled again. Should she go sexy and seductive? Wear something guaranteed to light up his senses on the chance he was interested in her? Go low-key so as to avoid being embarrassed if he was interested in nothing more than writing a program?

Frustrated, she dug into the back of the closet to pull out her one good little black dress. She had bought it for some party at her parents’ house, and it was suitable for either seduction or a fancy dinner.

It was a strapless thing with a sweetheart neckline that made the most of her slim shoulders and toned arms. It clung to the curves of her chest and hips, and it belled out slightly near her thighs, ending in a bubbled hem that made it float and skim over her legs.

She grabbed a set of black panties and a pretty, strapless bra. She shimmied into her undergarments, and then she misted perfume into the air before walking through it, letting the droplets collect on her hair and skin before putting on the dress.

She waffled again, and then she added a set of stockings – daring little things with lacy tops that were made of sturdy elastic neatly hidden in the lace. They slid onto her legs, and she stood in her bedroom feeling both naughty and sexy and eager for that bell to ring.

She had just slid her feet into shoes when the doorbell did ring. She hurried into the living room and opened the door,

Jackson looked crazy good. He wore a simple suit, all black and a light blue shirt below. He said, “You look great.”

“So do you.”

Her breath came out in a soft squeak. Jackson said, “I started to bring flowers, but then I remembered that you said to a guest at the party that you were not a fan of the flowers in the room.”

She gawked at him. “You heard that?”

“I was not that far from where you were standing. It was not like I was eavesdropping or something,” he said in a defensive tone.

“No I mean you heard me. Never mind. Thank you for not bringing flowers.”

She moved toward him and ended up in his arms. It felt good, so she moved closer. She lifted her head, and he smiled down at her.

Then he kissed her, hard.

She kissed him back. Her body squirmed closer as passion surged from a low ebbing tide to an overpowering crest. His fingers went to her hair, fisting it. Her hips pressed against his, and she felt the press of his dick against her body.

He groaned out. “We have reservations.”

“To hell with them,” she muttered between kisses.

His hands found her clothes and then dropped them onto the floor. Naked and panting, she climbed up his body, her toes digging into his calves and her arms winding around his neck as he carried her to the bed.

They landed on the bed, fingers working to get his clothes off. She finally found the button and zipper on his slacks and tugged them down.

His mouth went down her body, finding the throbbing ridge of her clit and teasing it. His fingers pressed into her body. Her ass shook as he licked and suckled and thrust his fingers in and out of her body.

He groaned out, “God damn, you taste so good.”

She kicked and writhed as he took her ever closer to the edge of an orgasm.

He finally sent her into release. Her walls clenched and opened, sensation created by friction and heat soared even higher, stiffening her nipples yet again and making her toes curl. Heated oils slid from her inner walls, spilling over his silken and rigid flesh as he kept moving within her, taking her higher and higher still.

He came up and she flipped him over, eager to touch and please him as much as he had teased and pleased her. Her mouth circled his nipples, her tongue licking and sucking, and then she moved downward again.

She took the hard length of his shaft into her hand and she fisted it loosely. His meat was thick and pulsing, wrapped with blue veins. Her tongue found the silky head of his dick, and she licked it gently. Then, she took the head into her mouth, swirling her tongue around the flesh where the shaft met the head. She bobbed her head, taking him down her throat. He groaned and writhed, his hips arching upward until he was impaling her throat.

She kept sucking and bobbing and using her hand. Jackson’s fingernails left tingling trails in her scalp, and she whimpered, opening her mouth more widely so she could take him down even further.

He said, “Damn it, Hope. You are going to make me come if you do not stop and soon.”

“Maybe I want to make you come.”

She did want to make him come, but more than that, she wanted to feel him inside her body. She wanted to feel him all the way in her, and she wanted him then.

She came up and poised herself over his body. Her legs straddled his thighs and she glided her hips downward until he was inside her, pulsing and penetrating her with his powerful organ.

His hands found her hips, and she whimpered as she moved upward, releasing him from her clenching folds. Her oils dripped and ran, and she grit her teeth before moving downward again. Her hands flattened on his chest, and her ass humped up and down.

His ass tilted, and he held her hips even more tightly. He pushed upward with his heels, and she whimpered as her walls began to spasm and a smaller but powerful orgasm began to roll through her body.

Jackson grunted and then he came – a thick spurt of come burst into her body.

She fell flat. His hands ran up and down her body, his fingers caressing her ass and back.

She got off him and flipped over onto her back, staring at the ceiling. It was official.

The man was turning her into a nymphomaniac.