Chapter 10
Ten
May 21
It seems like the library on St. John is exactly place I should be, I muse while enjoying the gentle morning breeze on Jack’s deck. In one of my darkest times, the Kennebunk Library sent me here to St. John via a grand prize raffle ticket. Fast forward three months, I’m living on the island and teaching literacy at the local library. I should send them a thank-you note or maybe an update.
Three days a week the literacy center is open, and I’m there with Simon and two other teachers to tutor the nine children and six adults from the local community who need help learning to read and write.
I love working with the children. But I have learned that my passion is really working with the adults. Whatever the reason is that they missed out on learning how to read when they were children doesn’t matter now. They are eager to learn, and I am just as eager to help them.
I was surprised to see Sabastian, the cab driver I met when I first landed on St Thomas, being one of them. He didn’t remember me right off but when I told him I was the one he picked up who was by herself, it must have jogged his memory. When I pulled his card out of my wallet with his name and number handwritten on it, he seemed very impressed.
“Ma’am, you never called me!” I’m unsure if he is joking or offended.
“Sebastian.” I look directly into his eyes so there is no question how sincere I am. “I didn’t need any rides, but you would have been the first person I would have called. Don’t you live on St. Thomas?” St. Thomas is where I met him when he drove me from the airport to the ferry.
“No, I live here, with my family,” Sebastian says. “There is much more work on the bigger island.”
“So you commute to St. Thomas for work.”
“Yes, ma’am. My family has lived here for many years.”
“Well, believe me, you will be the only person I call if I need to get somewhere.” Opening a book that Sebastian has been working on, I say, “Let’s get down to business.”
He nodded and eagerly took the book. Not only is Sebastian a hard worker and determined, he is just as kind as when I first met him. I like him a lot.
Simon says I’m a natural teacher and have patience and respect. I enjoy helping people learn something that will change their lives for the better.
“Good morning, Isa” interrupts my musing, and I turn back toward the house where Gabrielle has walked through the back door carrying two plates of steaming waffles. Jack’s not far behind.
“Oh, yummy! Thanks, Gabrielle. You know just what I was craving.”
“When aren’t ya craving waffles, darlin’?” Jack teases as he helps me into a chair at the patio table.
“Well, I’m not gonna apologize for it,” I say. “Gabrielle makes amazing waffles, and I’ll gladly eat them any day—and any time of day.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she says, her hands now empty of our breakfast plates, which sit on the table in front of Jack and me. “Enjoy!”
“I love dining al fresco.” I pop the first bite of my mango syrup-smothered waffle into my mouth. “It’s so beautiful here.”
My hair is a mess, just pinned in a bun on top of my head. The loose strands are blowing in the breeze, and I need to brush them away from my face every now and then so they don’t get stuck in the syrup. I’m wearing one of Jack’s big T-shirts. The one with Reba on it.
Before I can raise my napkin to catch the syrup dripping down my chin, Jack wipes the corner of my lips with his thumb and puts it into his mouth. After briefly sucking on it, he says, “You are so sweet. Messy, but sweet.”
He returns his thumb to my lower lip and gently runs it back and forth.
“Do I have something else there?” I feel a little self-conscious, thinking I may have more food on my face.
“You know what makes you so beautiful?” Jack asks as he returns his hand to his lap. Does he really think I have an answer to that question? I shrug and run my fork around my plate, trying to capture all the remaining syrup.
“The fact ya have no idea how beautiful ya are. You’re not hung up on yourself when ya very well could be. And you’re smokin’ hot!” I put my hand up to shield my eyes so I don’t have to watch him say this embarrassing stuff. “You’re authentic. You don’t try to be someone you’re not. And when you met me, you didn’t act like a fan. You’ve never even asked me for an autograph.”
I take my hand down and look at his haint blues. “Well, I didn’t know who you were at first.”
“Yeah, and when ya learned, ya still didn’t treat me any differently.”
“Well, I’m not obsessed with Jack Kendall the country music star. I like Jack Kendall the man who’s generous with his hospitality.”
“It’s easy to be kind to ya, darlin’. You have such a good heart.”
“Please stop with the compliments. They make me… uncomfortable.”
“Nope.” His eyes are on me. “You’ve been my girl for nine weeks, four days, eight hours, and”—he looks at his watch—“fifty-two minutes. I’d hoped ya’d become accustomed to hearing how great ya are by now. I’m the luckiest man alive, and I want ya to know it.”
“Where’s this coming from?”
“I have to be in Nashville tonight.” He reaches out and takes my hand, playing with my fingers as he continues, “My producer is being a real hard-ass about my retirement. We need to have a conversation face to face.”
Jack’s going to do it. He’s actually going to do it? Scaling down his music career is a big step… and to do it so he can be with me? What if everything goes wrong?
“You’re a popular performer. People aren’t going to like what you’re going to say.”
“Oh, probably not.” Jack stands and pulls me up. “Follow me, little lady.”
Jack leads me into our room and closes the door behind us. Leaning against the closed door, he reels me close to him.
The circulating air from the ceiling fan blows my bangs into my eyes. Jack strokes them out of the way. “I’m gonna hate being away from ya for a few nights.”
“I’m going to hate being away from you too.” I catch a glimpse of his haint-blue eyes before my lips are on his, my tongue urgent. I press my body against his, reveling in a partner who considers me his equal, who encourages me to take my pleasure. Jack releases my bun and my hair falls, cascading around my shoulders as I hold on to him and surrender to desire.
Any uncertainty from last night is a cloudy memory. I try to catch my breath as I have lost all track of time. “When do you leave?”
“A few hours.” We’re breathless. “Look what you’ve done to me.”
I run my hand over his hardened bulge. I can’t help but feel proud that I do that to him.
As if by mutual agreement, we make our way toward our bed, removing our clothing as we go. I’m left wearing just my white lace bra and Jack his underwear.
“Stop right there,” I say, and drop to my knees in front of him. I’m determined to give Jack something to think about while he’s on his trip.
“Isa? When did ya become so demanding?” Jack’s eyes are dark with want . “I love this new side of ya.”
“I need to peel these off you.” I strip Jack of his underwear, and then he’s standing before me, nude.
My gaze moves from his eyes to his erect cock.
“Isa,” Jack says softly, “you don’t have to do this.”
I don’t listen. I don’t want to listen. I want to please him at this very moment as much as he’s pleased me.
I tighten my fingers around his silky, rigid erection. A drop of wetness forms at the end of his shaft. I tilt forward to kiss the tip and allow my tongue to taste him. He tastes salty like a Maine oyster, only better. He tastes like Jack.
Grabbing his hips for balance, I slide him into my mouth. Jack moans, the voice that has sung for arenas overflowing with people now singing for me alone.
Finding a rhythm I can handle, I take him deeper and deeper, making my eyes water.
“Fuck!” Jack shouts. His hands grip my hair, and his legs begin to tremble. I take that as my cue to suck harder and move a little faster.
“You’re gonna make me come in your mouth if ya don’t stop, baby doll.”
I’m not stopping.
“Isa!” Jack holds my head still as he releases a guttural groan and fills my mouth with his warm, salty come. He steps back and sits on the bed, leaving me still kneeling on the floor.
“Come here,” Jack says between breaths and pats his lap.
Staying on my knees, I shuffle over and position myself in front of him, between his legs.
He wipes the corner of my lips with his thumb and puts it into his mouth, briefly sucking on it. “I love that you’re a messy eater.” He pulls me up to straddle him on the edge of the bed and slides his tongue over and around mine. Kissing me firmly. Holding me tightly.
“Was I okay?”
“Oh, sweetie!” He unhooks my bra and tosses it to the floor. “More than okay.” He kisses my breasts with gentle, moist kisses that evaporate in the breeze from the ceiling fan.
I trace my fingers down his CrossFit-inspired abs and reach for his hard cock again. I want him inside me.
But I can’t find it. Is he not interested? Did I give too much too fast?
Jack pulls back and admits, “I’m a lot older than you. My recovery time isn’t as quick as when I was your age.”
The all-time excuse: It’s me, not you.
“It’s okay.” He doesn’t act older than me. “No biggie.” I wince. I can’t believe I just said that. Ben would’ve taken it as an insult.
“Give him a little bit.” He wraps his muscular arms around me. “He’ll be back shortly.”
“I… I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry.” I didn’t mean to shame him. I didn’t even know that this was a thing. I don’t remember them talking about this in tenth-grade health class. I can’t do anything about how old he is.
“Nothing to be sorry about.” Jack scootches back so he can roll over and open the drawer in his nightstand. When he returns to me, he’s holding a rather large silicone dildo in its original packaging. “I got you a backup.”
“For me?” Jack hands me the package. I’ve never seen one in real life before. When I was in college, some girls in my dorm held a pleasure party, with all sorts of lingerie and sex toys for sale. But I was dating Ben, and he got sick that night and needed me, so I missed the party. Then when we were married, I learned not to imply anything about his ability in the bedroom; a dildo would’ve been the ultimate emasculation.
“I’ve never once let a partner go without being pleasured, and I’m not going to start now,” Jack says, pulling me from my thoughts.
I accept the package and inspect its hot pink contents. “Would it be okay with you if we wait until you come home before we break out the artillery?” The dildo is intimidating, with its synthetic veins and fat head. Better to wait to use it when Jack has more time.
“Sure, sweet pea.” Jack must sense that I’m uncomfortable. I hand the package back to him and he returns it to the drawer. “We’ll have plenty of time to play with toys.” He strokes my arm and sits up to kiss me. “We’ll have all the time in the world.”
“I like that.” I pull back from his embrace. “You have a plane to catch. I’m jumping in the shower. Join me when you’re ready?” I leave Jack sated and lethargic on the bed as I saunter to the attached bathroom.
The steam from the shower fills the glassed-in stall when I turn the water on.
“Come on, sleepyhead,” I call from the doorway where I’m leaning, nude. Jack has fallen asleep. “You need to get ready!”
He opens his eyes and throws his legs over the side of the bed with a groan. How can he be this tired? I thought his workout was supposed to give him more energy. “You need some help up?”
He winks. “That view sure is getting something up.” He looks at his lap, then back up at me. “Or would, if I was younger.” He stands and heads toward me, and I duck back into the bathroom and step into the shower.
Jack’s shower is a big, glass enclosure with a rain head coming from the ceiling, several handheld sprayers, and multiple wall-mounted body sprayers. The control panel is full of options, so I’m grateful I managed to turn on at least the rain head.
Before he joins me, Jack pushes a few buttons and water comes at me from all directions. I throw my arms above my head and enjoy the massaging sprays, marveling at the luxury and how it almost feels like I’m in the ocean, but safe and secure and protected.
“Want me to wash your hair?” Jack asks as he squirts some shampoo into his palm.
I drop my arms and turn my back to him so he can reach all my hair. He works the shampoo into my waves and massages my scalp.
“That feels so good. Smells good too.” With my eyes closed, I could be standing in a tropical rainforest, amid an abundance of flowers and fruit. “I recognize the coconut, but what’s the other scent?”
“I believe it’s tea tree,” Jack says as he continues to trace across my head, generating subtle tingling and warmth. I’m so relaxed, my body feels heavy, languid.
“I like it,” I murmur.
He reaches around me and picks up a handheld sprayer and carefully rinses away the shampoo, then replaces the sprayer. “Conditioner?”
When I agree, he repeats the process, but piles my hair on the top of my head to let the conditioner have time to soak in.
“Ya knocked my socks off earlier,” he says in my ear, and traces the X-shaped tan line my swimsuit left on my back. “I like this.” He repeatedly draws soft X’s, and I shiver, ticklish.
“You seem to be an X-Man, but I kinda like the O’s,” I joke. Jack’s chuckle is deep and delicious as he wraps his strong arms around me.
“You surprised me earlier. I really wasn’t expecting a send-off like that.”
“I surprised myself.” I giggle. “Just wait until you get home. I may have some more surprises planned.”
“I can’t wait.” Still holding me, he retrieves the handheld sprayer again. He kisses my shoulder, then rests his chin on it. “Now, my lady,” he says as he runs his free hand over my breast and down my torso, “I need ya to spread those pretty legs of yours. Earlier I said I’m not in the habit of leaving my partners unpleasured, and I’m not about to break my promise.”
Jack’s directions have my arousal flaring, and my belly burns hot. I lean against him for the strength and stability that have escaped me and slowly part my legs. “That’s it,” he croons, ghosting his fingers across my mound, then delving between my folds. He brings the sprayer up and targets it at my clit. As I bliss out, Jack sings my favorite song into my ear. “Come for me.”