She awoke slowly, stretching leisurely. Her eyes opened and she was confused. She took in the rumpled sheets and blankets, the four poster bed, the dark wood walls, the oriental carpet on the hardwood floor and the man's dresser and mirror. Reality dawned on her with warmth similar to that of a rising sun beginning a new day. She, Emma Catherine Richardson was in Jack Kelley's bed, where he had made love to her.
She slipped her feet to the floor and surveyed the two piles of clothes. She selected the piece she wanted most and as Jack's button down shirt fell into place draping her body she could smell him. She pulled the shirt collar to her nose and breathed in his scent. She tried as hard as she could to push any thoughts other than the here and now from her brain but she could not. Her mind took off on a fanciful flight through the future.
Fortunately, at least for now, sounds from the kitchen below reached her and brought her back to the here and now. She padded down the stairs with the deep blue runner that left only a few inches of hardwood exposed on either side enjoying how plush it felt under her bare feet. Her hand glided down the smooth wooden bannister. As she moved down the hallway she felt the cool wood floor. The tiles of the kitchen floor were even cooler but not uncomfortable as she made her way to Jack.
He was standing at the gas stove, back turned to her. He was working something in a pan with a towel draped over his shoulder. He wore a pair of mesh athletic shorts and a long sleeve t-shirt. He started just a bit as she molded herself to him and ran her hands around his waist to pull him tighter to her. "Mmmmmm," she thought, "I could become very used to this."
"Oh really? Used to what? Someone slaving away over a hot fire for you?"
'Oh my god,' had she said that out loud?
She felt Jack twist and force his way through her tight hold to turn 180 degrees and face her. "Other than the stealthy approach - you're not some freelance assassin for hire are you?" he squinted looking at her, "I think I could get used to this, too."
She lowered her eyes in embarrassment and took a step back.
"You don't think those will leave permanent marks in my shirts, do you?" He was using a wooden spoon to point to her chest. Both of her nipples were fully distended and well described as they pushed against the fabric of the shirt.
Recovering from her sleepiness, her reveries and her embarrassment she parried, "Oh, you don't like the way your shirt looks on me?"
The blue of the shirt somehow deepened the blue of her eyes. Her blond hair fell in front and behind each shoulder and seemed to shine brighter against the blue background. Beneath the tresses the gentle swell of her breasts, each capped by the nipples pressing hard against the material, was just so sensual. Her legs looked so long as the shirt tails in front and back demurely covered her nether region and bum before rising in an arc over her hips. To Jack, Emma was the poster woman for femininity and beauty as she stood before him.
"I have never seen any shirt look better on anyone in my life." His voice was true and honest, with no subterfuge, no playing to the audience, just genuine and from the heart.
Standing there, held fast as his eyes moved from the top to bottom of her body, Emma regarded Jack. Toned, but not muscle bound from his legs to his shoulders, white hair in disarray, those amazing eyes so alive, his age was of no matter. He was a good looking, and good feeling she allowed, man.
Feeling daring, Emma began to undo several buttons of the shirt. She pulled the fabric open on one side exposing a breast and nipple. "You don't think it might look better this way?" she teased.
Emma heard rather than saw the wooden spoon hit the tile. She felt rather than saw his mouth surround her nipple. She only gradually became aware of his hand between her legs, the base of his middle finger pressing against her clitoris and the rest extended directly down her slit. The one-two combination had immediate effect and she could not contain the moan that rose from inside her.
"Ooohhhh, mmmmmm."
In the next seconds all hell broke loose. A sizzling, crackling sound came from the stove, followed by the smell of smoke and shortly thereafter the shrill tone of the smoke alarm.
"Shit!" they cried in unison.
Jack moved quickly, turned off the gas, covered the smoking pan, turned on the exhaust vent and closed the kitchen door. Emma watched in admiration at the speed and self-assuredness with which Jack responded. All the same, she did not miss the deep blush across his face and the almost little boy like sheepishness with which he faced her as the smoke dissipated and the alarm finally abated.
"Sorry about that. I guess I was distracted."
She tried. She really did try. She couldn't control it. She giggled.
She was concerned that he would take her giggling the wrong way, that she would add to his discomfort. She needn't have. Jack was transfixed by the way her eyes appeared to giggle as much as her mouth. They danced and shone, captivating him. All he could do was smile this big goofy grin like some teenager.
Once order had been restored Jack reviewed the situation with Emma. "That charred, black lump is the last of my eggs. All I have to offer now are English muffins, orange juice and coffee. I could run out and get other things, if you like."
She smiled and touched his arm. "An English muffin and coffee will be fine."
Even that little touch of her hand on his arm felt good. "Please be seated," he said, pulling a chair from the kitchen table. A few moments later a big mug of coffee, with what looked like the perfect amount of milk appeared in front of her. Jack had turned to put an English muffin the toaster. She took a sip - perfect.
When she turned her head Jack was looking at her. "One Splenda and light with 1% milk, right?" his face was eager, hopeful.
"How did you..? I thought you used whole milk and no sweetener?"
"There's a little convenience store at the corner. I just nipped over there and got them."
"How long have you been up?" She couldn't believe he was doing all these little things just for her.
"Not too long," he replied.
"Well, you're very sweet to do all these things. How did you know how I like my coffee? Of course, work." She answered her own question. Jack was one of the few Product Directors, male or female, who would get coffee or water for his team when he went to get some for himself. Since they had worked on more than a few projects together since his move to 14 he had brought her coffee a number of times.
Feeling happy and playful she decided to tease him a bit. "So do you remember how everyone on 14 takes their coffee?"
He responded in a heartbeat. "Only the smartest, nicest, loveliest ones."
When the toaster popped up the muffin he placed it on a plate with a knife, brought the plate, a napkin, butter and some sort of jelly along with his cup of coffee to the table. He placed everything but the coffee in front of her and sat down.
"You carried all that in one trip," Emma marveled.
"I, am a man of many talents!" Leaning back in his chair he took a sip of his coffee and just kept looking at her.
"I can't believe you're actually sitting here, across from me, wearing my shirt, in my house. I've thought of something like this for a long time, but I never thought it would really happen."
"You left out that I also slept in your bed after you ravaged me," she added with a big smile.
