Enraptured

"Jack, I have made it very clear where I stand with you. I've never played coy. And no, I can't give you a time line as to when I might feel differently," I shouted at him as I pointed, actually shook, my finger at him before he had the chance to say the most predictable of questions.

Jack was my ex-husband. What were he and I doing not only in the same time zone but the same zip code? The answer was very simple.

We had agreed to put aside hostilities for one night and show our youngest daughter support at an art show wherein all the monies raised would go to cancer research. The cause was very near and dear to all of our hearts as our darling Elizabeth had passed just a few months earlier.

From the moment that Jack and I laid eyes on each other that afternoon, I could tell there was going to be trouble.

Unfortunately for the world at large my ex-husband's asshole ways had come to envelop every member of our family throughout the day; a daughter, her girlfriend, a widowed son-in-law, and two grandchildren. There was no other way to put it other than he put a damper on the night's festivities and embarrassed my youngest.

The combination of arrogance, personified in my husband who was a classic case of a narcissistic personality, and alcohol had turned a potential problem into a headache for us all. Especially for me.

Putting the two of us in the same room after what was a messy divorce and the ten-plus years since I gave him back his ring and told him to stick it was a bad idea.

Apparently someone forgot to tell him that I, in particular, didn't need to hear his opinion on anything. He successfully turned the night into a tense series of encounters with every member of the family, the many friends in attendance, and spouted off his egocentric views on everything from career choices to certain life choices others had made.

As the night wore on, his behavior became more touchy feely with me. Uncomfortable was putting it mildly. When the night ended, everyone left together as Melanie (my youngest) locked up. She and her girlfriend dropped me off at my apartment and Jack got out and followed me into the lobby.

I waved the family off. I would handle this situation if it got out of hand. As they pulled off, I pulled the wrap I wore tighter around my neck. Taking a deep breath, I rolled my eyes as I watched Jack's drunk ass saunter to me.

He made a few cat calls and made a few references that he was going to show me what I had been missing. I told him to shut up and take a cab. I laughed to myself as I tried to understand exactly what he was thinking about and how he could possibly think things were going to go in any way that might see him step into my place.

Wasn't going to happen.

I have always wondered what was it that about black-tie affairs that made a man think he was going to get lucky afterwards? I might have been an idiot to try and coexist with him for the family's sake this evening but the fact remains he is my ex-husband and well, there was a reason the marriage ended. I wasn't the slightest bit attracted to him.

Jack was a bad idea.

The kind of idea that sounded great in theory. Time had proved that the actual application of that idea was mired in the same type of bad ideas that would see a coach call a goal-line pass in the Super Bowl instead of handing it off to one of the league's premier running backs. Surprised I know football?

Don't be.

Everyone watches the Super Bowl and even I know you hand the ball to Marshawn Lynch.

Despite the fact that I was trying to use my phone to call him a cab and that I had shown no interest in him whatsoever, he had gotten the idea I was playing hard to get. After a night wherein he acted as King of the Ass Clowns and insulted our entire family. He was going to follow me up to my room and continue to be an ass while trying to get down my pants.

Not going to happen.

I wondered if the impressive physical specimen down the hall from my place might "jack" him up a little bit. He was a bouncer at a local night club. My thoughts turned to touching those massive biceps and licking them. Then my thoughts ran towards doing the same to the hottie whose name was Robbie and lived on the fourth floor. Only I would lick that delicious man's entire body.

I felt my breath catch in my throat before I was snapped back to reality.

When the words I "needed to jump down off my pedestal" was spoken by Jack, I widened my eyes at the statement but also because he had the nerve to put his hands on my shoulders. When I took his hands off of me, he put them back and pushed me back, sandwiching me between the elevator door and his body. I twisted my face away when he made the attempt to actually kiss me. I thought I was going to throw up.

I told him to stop it. Insisted on it as nicely as I could. When he brushed away my wrap on the way to planting a kiss on top of my breast, my knee rose instinctively.

Ronda Rousey would have been proud.

He keeled over in pain. I've been told that getting kicked in the balls is a lot like a straight drop from seventeen floors up. If that is so, he deserved a lot worse.

"That hurt, you fucking bitch", he spat as he tried to catch his breath. When he stood up, I delivered a kidney shot. He staggered backwards but it was the punch that came out of nowhere that floored him and stunned me.

I barely had time to register the shadow that came from the corner of my eye before Jack cried out and winced from the fetal position on the ground. Grabbing his ear with one hand, I imagine it was to ensure that it was still attached to his head. Lord knows that the blood beginning to cascade down his cheek had made me wonder.

"Get. Out. Of. Here" a deep voice loomed from over my shoulder.

As he came into my line of sight, I was aware of Robbie from his cologne just moments after his fist smashed into Jack's head. That tone was one of annoyance and it rang of distaste. He would later tell me that he acted because he was like a dog pawing at my body without consent.

In a scene that involved me in a ball gown and my ex in a tuxedo it was my savior's attire that stood out like a sore thumb.

The tone of his voice and a cold right first weren't the only things striking.

Six foot, two.

Deeply hewed blue eyes. Blonde hair and neatly cut. Darkly tanned. Wearing nothing but a pair of Wranglers. It didn't leave much to my very vivid imagination. My very own blond Adrian Paul.

Without the scotch accent. This one had a very distinct Midwestern drawl. Educated.

I blinked it all in. I breathed in his spicy male scent and wanted to draw my finger nails down his back. Hell, it wasn't the first time that my mind had strayed to perverseness. Sure wouldn't be the last.

The previous two times I had seen Robert, or Robbie, as he instructed me to call him when he moved in a few months prior to the events of this night, my mind had certainly entertained the thought of, well, entertaining him.

The thought of him naked, at any time, several floors below me made me wet.

I forced my eyes away from this spectacle of a man when I heard Jack speak.

"Who the hell do you think you are to tell me that I need to leave?" Jack sputtered as he staggered to his feet and took several drunken steps back down into the lobby.

The gladiator who now stood at my side never spoke a word. He rolled his shoulders and the sound of them cracking echoed in the empty lobby.

I thought to myself that this is the guy who is going to kick your ass into a pulp if you don't leave now.

"Just go, Jack." I managed to say quite shakily, "Please."

I wasn't sure if the shakiness in my voice was from nerves or desire.

Maybe both.

For a dull moment, it seemed as if Jack was going to argue but he finally turned. Robbie kept a steely gaze locked onto Jack until he left the building.

I exhaled unevenly when I heard the elevator door ding. I entered.

Robbie did too. I found it difficult to meet his stare.

Thank you I was able to mutter.

"You okay?"

"Sure," I laughed a little unevenly, "Feeling a bit dense after tonight."

"How about a drink to calm the nerves?"

I shook my head and told him no. I insisted I was fine. That he was my ex-husband and gave him the two-minute version of tonight's episode of the Days of our Lives in about twenty seconds.

"I wasn't asking if you wanted to have a drink with me in order to calm down."

My eyes snapped up to his. For the first time, I saw a hint of gray in the outer rim of his and it was outlined by black.

A second passed.

Then several more.

A tiny smile pulled at his well-shaped lips, softening the hardness of his mouth infinitesimally.

Had I been propositioned that casually? Should I take him up on the offer?

As I met his steady stare, I knew what my answer would be.

The elevator doors opened.

Fourth floor.

His floor.

I followed him as if I were in a trance.

He stepped back so that I could move past him toward the door of his apartment. I smiled a moment later when I stepped inside his place.

He bent to retrieve a bottle from a lower shelf in a wine cooler on the counter. When he stood, my gaze washed over his ridged abdomen, the sweep of his wide shoulders, and the hard muscles of his upper arms. I thought back to moments earlier when I fantasized about licking his entire body...

You know most men, in this situation, would have put a shirt on. I was glad he didn't. He was too beautiful. Too masculine.

It would have been a shame, no, a sin to cover that body.

He handed me a glass and I held it up in a brief salute and took a drink. There was a lot of silence between us. It wasn't awkward.

It only served to heighten the moment.

I smiled as the sweet liquid touched my lips, my tongue, and glided down my throat. My pleasure must have been evident because he smile before he took a swallow of his own. Heat expanded in my belly at the sight of the muscles moving in his throat.

"You approve?"

I blinked. He knew.

About the wine.

His body.

My desire.

I sat down at the bar separating the kitchen from the living room.

"This actually happens to be my favorite." I answered becoming gradually aware that my voice became huskier as I stared at his mouth. What ever would it be like to run my tongue over those sexy lips.

I forced my eyes away from him and transfixed my gaze to the windows. From here, you could see midnight eclipse everything. I couldn't purge the thought of his naked body pressed against mine from my thoughts.

I took another sip.

"I've been meaning to ask you out for a cup of coffee or something for a while now."

I chuckled. "You should have asked. I wouldn't have said no."

"No to the coffee?"

To anything, I teased as I winked at him.

I saw him standing very close to me now from the reflection of the window. I turned to regard him and my eye level was at his chest. His nipples were dark brown and even more erect than I'd speculated when he was feet away from me. I inhaled him slowly, his scent close to overwhelming my senses.

The desire he'd awakened in me reared its seductive head and caused a shimmering sensation of heat to spread along my tail bone. It surged and swelled at my sex and it liquefied instantly.

I caught his eyes glaring up and down my body. He set his drink on the counter.

"From the moment I saw you, I have wanted to do this."

He took a step nearer to me. I inhaled sharply. My anxiety nearly climaxed as he took the glass from my hand and set it next to his.

His hand rose to cradle my chin, lifting my face until I met his gaze. My pulse throbbed wildly in my throat as I saw his eyes fixate on my lips. His head dropped slowly.

I had a moment where I thought about the events of ten minutes ago. I had just cock-blocked my ex-husband and now this gorgeous male specimen was kissing me.

To hell with rationality and all reason as I snapped back to this moment.

The hand that wasn't already holding my chin came up to join its twin, holding me steady for the onslaught that was his kiss. His tongue drove between my lips without hesitation. He probed deeply, sweeping his tongue everywhere and established a dominance over my body with a stunning attack on my senses.

I moaned as his taste registered in my brain. My hands clutched desperately at his back as he continued to fuck my mouth with his tongue. A very talented tongue. I could taste the wine on him.

Mint liquor as well.

My fingertips explored the sensation of smooth skin stretched over his very tight muscles. Heat resonated off his body. I pressed closer, wanting to share that heat, needing to be burned by it.

My hands began to move over him greedily. He groaned, deep and savage, and tore his mouth from mine. For a tense moment he just stared at me. Then he lifted me in his arms. I held on tightly to his shoulders. He quickly moved to the bedroom.

Robbie tore off the wrap I wore around my shoulder before he lowered me to his bed. The zipper of my black cocktail dress came down next. I lifted my arms as he tossed aside the dress a moment later.

My hips moved restlessly on the bed. Instinctively I tried to relieve the pressure growing at my sex when his gaze dropped over me. I wore a black bra and pantie set and some thigh-high stockings. And pearls.

I can't forget the pearls.

I took my panties off and laid back further in his bed. He answered my silent plea by covering my body with his. He palmed my thighs, spreading them to accommodate his body in the process. He immediately claimed my mouth again. Our tongues tangled, danced, and mated wildly. His hands ran down my sides and one paused at my silk-covered breast as the other slid down my waist and cradled my hip.

He tilted my pelvis up and pressed himself to me. The movement forced me to feel the strength of his desire.

I moaned into his mouth.

He molded my breast into his palm gently and then roughly. I strained up, desperate for more of the sensation he provoked. I ran my hands over his back and shoulders. They slid and rubbed, before scraping flesh. I wanted to consume him as much as he was consuming me.

He grunted at the feeling of my body curving into his. My nipple pressed into the center of his hand. It desperately longed to be free. He told me I maddened him. I laughed deeply.

My throbbing of my sex was just as maddened as he was. I needed release.

And I needed it in the worst way.

He rolled off me onto his hip, ripping at the fly of his jeans. He shoved them down his thighs with precise, controlled movements. His cock sprang free.

It was stiff and straining towards me. I wanted to taste it against my lips. Taste him.

His eyes caressed my body. I saw the struggle in his body.

He winced in agonized pleasure when he moved and his cock brushed the bare, satiny skin of my thigh. I whimpered.

I reached for him but he stopped me by grabbing both my wrists then transferring both of them to one hand. He pushed my wrists down over my head at the same time he reached between my thighs.

He watched my face with immense pleasure as he burrowed his fingers through my damp sex, those strong fingers dipping into the warm cream of my pussy before he spread the gathered moisture between my labia, sliding and pressing against my clit.

My back arched against the invasion. It rose off the bed and I squirmed uncontrollably at the restraint of his binding hand.

He only gripped my wrists and held me tighter. He played a hard, ruthless rhythm with his fingers, plucking and strumming the nerve-packed flesh until the tension in my body body and I cried out sharply in stunned relief. Two of his fingers plunged deeper into me and he watched with interest and intense hunger as my body clamped and convulsed around him.

I was so ready for him. He was so damn delicious.

As I came, he stretched and reached for his nightstand. Without me realizing it, he had unwrapped and sheathed his cock with a condom. There were no words when he spread my thighs and arrowed fast into me.

My body tried to resist the assault but the pure craziness he had created had made me a victim to his talents. He soothed a long groan as my pussy enclosed around him and I felt the thick head of his penis penetrate my walls.

He worked it into me with subtle up and down motions while his hips provided a steady, hard pressure. I couldn't resist him. I strained against him and I could tell he was already on edge.

When he heard me cry out, he burrowed his gift as hard as he could into me.

He pressed hot kisses along my neck and paused only to run the elegant strand of pearls I wore between his lips, licking the smooth globes lightly before he nipped at my tender skin. My lips were parted when he found them, the taste between them sweet and addictive. His cock throbbed painfully inside of me as his tongue sank alongside mine.

He pushed back a smooth thigh and opened my body to him and I granted him complete admission. His thumb found my clitoris, circling, plucking and coaxing it as he continued to fuck me. I groaned my need into his mouth and pushed up for more pressure and managed to somehow seat his cock farther into my body in the process.

He whispered something gruffly against my lips as I cried out in sharp desire. He was well endowed. It was invading me and forcing me to accommodate it. The sensation of it inside me was indescribable. The pressing of his thumb against my clit only heightened the experience. A friction began to build within.

A very familiar friction. It sought to consume me.

I was its submissive slave.

I began to push and rotate my hips around that glorious cock of his, up and down at first. Then I pushed in and out. I was desperate to feed the flame within me. It was growing out of control and was now expanding into my belly, arms, and legs. I mewled with pleasure and increased whatever pressure I could muster against him.

I writhed and whimpered beneath him, begging him in the most primitive of ways to take possession of me. He accepted that invitation. He drove that cock into me, pressing his balls tightly to my damp hilt and grunted with an animal's pleasure. When I cried out and arched, he secured my wrists higher and pushed me back against the bed.

It was then when his strokes became tighter and more concentrated. I shook my head in silent agreement as I realized he was so close to coming. I was too tight with pleasure to speak as well. His cock now massaged me and stimulated my being with relentless pressure. He pried my body open to make way for him but in my wildness, I kept closing up. Every time he withdrew now it was a constant battle to take control of my body.

I needed to have the thick, hard knob of his cock against my flesh. I was now demanding it.

As if to torture me more, I cried out when he leaned down and encircled my silk-covered nipple into the heat of his mouth. The suction he applied made the inferno inside of me escalate. When he bit at the tiny morsel at its center, he thrust into me hard and created a loud smack of flesh against flesh.

I came instantly.

He grunted savagely as he felt me squeeze and convulse around his cock. My heat had to flood around him. His eyes lowered, the closed, at the sensation.

He reached up and roughly pushed down both of the thin pieces of black silk that covered my breasts. He bent and sampled one hard, pointed crest, and lashed at it with his tongue. He sucked my nipple so marvelously, I wanted to cover it with whipped cream and a cherry so that he could tie the cherry stem over my nipple.

That was actually something he would do later. He would prove to be that talented.

When he leaned up slightly, I looked longingly at the sight him. His ripped chest against my pale, needy breasts one capped by a glistening, swollen pink nipple.