Chapter 10

JANICE

Jeff stood a long moment in the corridor after the door to Val Salem's apartment had closed behind him. All along, Jeff had thought that he'd be the hunter and search out Val Salem. Instead, Val had come after him. Why?

One thought had gnawed at Jeff's brain every moment he'd been in the apartment-Janice. He wondered if she was all right? Whether she'd been off in some other part of the apartment while he was there? More than anything, he had wanted to ask Val about her, but wouldn't give him that much satisfaction.

Even now he was thinking about her as he thumbed the button of the elevator and the door slid open. He started a step then froze and his heart stood still at sight of the girl standing there before him in the car.

"Hello, Jeffrey," she whispered in her soft, melodious voice.

Jeff hadn't seen Janice in more than eight years but she'd changed hardly at all. She was still exactly as he remembered her ... Her long, silken hair seemed even more radiantly blonde and shimmering with highlights, a perfect blend for the velvety texture of her skin.

She was wearing a tight, dark green skirt and white blouse simply and expensively cut to show that her heavenly body was as perfectly proportioned as ever; waist as youthfully slim; hips round and firm. Only her exquisite breasts seemed to have grown larger-making her that much more beautiful; that much more desirable.

"Get in quickly," she told him, her hand poised over the "down" button. "Please, Jeffrey."

Without question, he stepped aboard. She pushed the button, the door slid closed and the car began to descend.

"You've changed hardly at all," she told him, never once taking her blue eyes from his strong-jawed face.

He looked down at her. From his point of vantage, he had a very disturbing view of her deep cleavage that separated her delightful breasts. Disturbing because it made him remember the first time he ever saw her breasts; that night in Val's apartment, when Val opened her pajama top then removed her bottoms and the two of them took her at the same time.

He wondered why at this moment, he remembered the one thing about her that he wanted to forget. Unless it was because he had just left Val and been reminded that she was now his wife. Quickly he discharged the thought before it chewed too deeply into his heart.

"You knew that Val was bringing me here?" he asked her.

She nodded. "That's why I waited."

"How did he find out where I was working? I only started there last night."

"Danny Casino called him"

"Casino? He knows Val?"

"He knows that Val owns THE BLUE NOTE

-a big step up from BRUNO'S PLACE. He seemed to know all about you, too. I guess he figured that if he tipped off Val to where you were working, Val just might be grateful enough to move him and band over from Hoboken. But he guessed so very wrong. Gratitude, like sentiment and a conscience Val doesn't own."

The car came to a halt at the bottom and the door slid open. Janice stepped out of the elevator with Jeff into the underground garage. Again she stared up at him, almost longingly.

"Do you have a place where we can go and be alone?" she asked.

He shook his head, regretfully. "Haven't had a chance to get one."

She took his hand. "Then let's find a place. I've got to talk to you. There are so many things I want to say ... explain"

She led him between the rows of parked cars to a beige convertible and told him to get in. They hesitated a moment to watch the indicator above the elevator. The arrow showed that the car had begun to rise.

"That'll be Brod and Matty leaving," she said with same concern as he opened the door for her and-she sat behind the wheel. "We don't want them to find us here together."

He went around to the far side of the car and opened the door. He tried to keep all bitterness out of his voice as he asked, "What ... what about your husband?"

"He's one of the things I want to talk to you about," she replied as she turned on the ignition key and got the car started. "Hurry, please."

He slid onto the front seat beside her and closed the door. They saw by the indicator that the car had reached the top floor and was on its way down.

Quickly, Janice backed the car out of the stall and drove up the ramp into the street. She headed west toward the George Washington bridge.

"Jersey?" he guessed.

"We'll find a motel over there. It's the only place that's safe. Where no one will see us together."

He looked confused. "What will Val say-you not coming home?"

She smiled confidently. "When I found out you were coming to the apartment, I told him I didn't think it'd be wise if I were there; that I'd spend the night with a girl friend."

He said nothing. He just kept looking at her in the dim reflection of the light from the dashboard; her blouse drawn so tight across her breasts that he could almost make out the outline of her nipples; her short skirt hiked inches above her knees, offering just a hint of the white flesh above the tops of her nylons. His stomach churned with desire for her, not daring to think about what might happen when they got to the motel.

They crossed the bridge and drove for about fifteen minutes before they found a motel with a vacancy sign. Since he had no money and no operator's license, she left him in the car and checked in. Minutes later they were entering one of the cabins. After locking the door, he turned to face her.

She had brought an overnight bag with her which she placed on the floor beside the bed. Then she stood there in the center of the floor facing him.

For eight long years he'd dreamed of this moment, when he'd be alone with her. Completely alone. Every part of his body tingled just with the thought of it.

Slowly she raised her arms and held them out to him. "Jeff-!"

He went to her and put his arms around her and crushed her body to his. He could feel himself trembling with tension; unable to speak.

"Oh, Jeff ... Jeffrey darling ... it's been so long ... so very long ... I've missed you terribly"

He tried to control his hands but they suddenly became things on their own, sliding down to her waist and then reaching behind her to bring her body even closer to his, until there was danger that he might explode prematurely against her.

She gasped for air and her fingers suddenly fierce and demanding, reached up and brought him down to meet her scarlet mouth; the scalding honey from her lips and her serpent-like tongue dripping into his mouth as they both screamed for release after so long a time away from each other.

She pulled away, her voluptuous breasts moving spasmodically against his chest. Her eyes were wet and shimmering as if with a glow of disbelief that they were really and truly together again.

"First, darling," she whispered, emotionally, "you've got to know the truth about me. So you won't think I'm so terrible."

He tried to draw her back to him. "I could never think you were terrible. Not ever."

She kissed his lips and pulled far enough away so that she could look up into his face as she spoke to him; his arms still holding her.

"You must have thought something when I married him?"

"I wasn't overjoyed."

"I didn't know the truth, Jeffrey."

"What truth?"

"That he was responsible for you going to prison. That instead of you, HE should have gone. I thought he was your friend. I really did." She managed to slip out of his arms and walked toward the bed, her back to him. "Funny. All the years I knew him. All the closeness I felt toward him. All the intimacies we shared. I never really knew him. Not until after I married him. Then I found out the truth-very quickly. I learned how he framed you; planted the narcotics in your room and then tipped off the authorities. I discovered what a despicable person he really is."

"You stayed with him for eight years."

She turned her head and looked at him over her shoulder, smiling grimly. "People don't just walk out on Val Salem, darling. Especially not anyone who might know as much about his business as I do." She took a deep breath. "I just wanted you to know the truth, darling. Know that for eight years I've been as miserable as you. That for eight years I've ached for you, ached way down deep inside."

As she spoke she turned slowly to face him. She had unbuttoned the front of her blouse to the waist and brushed aside the material so that he could see her milky breasts swelling over the top of her too tight white bra.

He went to her and placed his hands on her hips. He brushed the straps of her bra from her shoulders and kissed the warm, naked flesh where the straps had left faint pink marks. He kissed the bulge of her breasts above the top of her bra and the deep crevise between them; the heated feminine fragrance of her body torturing his senses.

Leaving her hips, his hands went behind her and found the three tiny snaps at the back of her bra. He unfastened them and her huge breasts sprang out at him. He drew back just enough to admire their new, matured beauty. The mere sight of them made him feel larger, tight-skinned, hot, ready to burst.

"I've grown bigger," she whispered.

"Only more beautiful," he told her and it was true. If they were perfection before, they were doubly perfect now with nipples that had deepened from light pink to bright cherry red. He took them in his hands and weighed them, appreciatively. Then he tongued and sucked each of the nipples in turn.

She squirmed delightfully and sighed, "I love when you do that to me, Jeffrey. Lie on the bed"

She pushed him backwards until he fell across the bed on his back. She threw off her blouse and bra, and the next moment, she was beside him on the bed, leaning over him so that the blood rushed to the tips of her dangling breasts and made them more sensitive, as she held first one nipple then the other to his mouth.

"Do you like to make love to me like this, darling?" she asked.

His mouth full of nipple, the only answer he could give her was to run his hands over her naked back and nuzzle his face deeper into her breast.

"Let's make it last, darling. Let's make it last all night," she whispered.

He wanted it to last, too. That's why he hadn't touched her honey pot, yet. He knew what would happen when he did. She wasn't so prudent. Her hand had already begun to move slowly over his thighs. She started at his knees, with the same light touch he so vividly remembered. She worked her way upward and his body became tense, bracing for the shock he knew she'd cause him when she found him. And that wasn't hard to do because he was standing there like the pole of a tent, trying to poke its way through the top of the canvas. As if to heighten his sensitivity to the breaking point, she teased her way along his leg-just before reaching her goal, she lifted her hand away from him and started again at his knees. Each time she did it seemed to bring him that much closer to the brink of insanity, until at last he cried, "Please!"

She drew back and looked down at him. "You never have to say please, darling."

Then she moistened her lips with her tongue and put them to his, at the same time wrapping light, slender fingers around him and squeezing him, gently, through the material of his trousers. Her teasing, plus those eight years he'd been away from her, caused him almost to faint dead away at her touch. Only the thought of the even more wonderful things that the night held for the both of them enabled him to hold back. But she wasn't through with him. As he lay there helplessly on the bed before her, she unbuckled his belt, zipped open his trousers, unsnapped is shorts and uncovered his enormousness. Then with not the slightest embarrassment or uneasiness, as if the years between had never been, she cupped her hand and put it between his thighs and lifted all of him as if to weigh his potency.

"Eight years, darling," she sighed deliriously, as she stretched out on the bed beside him. "Eight years we have to make up. Eight years of love I've got stored up for you"

He lifted himself on his left elbow and looked down at her. Why did just looking at her stir him so, start his heart to pound, send his thoughts soaring away on cloud nine.

Bared to the waist she lay there before him, her breasts firm and standing up like twin peaks from her delicate white body. Her nipples swollen and flame-red from his sucklings.

Her dark green skirt was raised half way up her thighs; her exquisite nylon encased legs bent slightly at the knees and she still wore her white high heels that gave an added turn to her legs and trim ankles. She struck a familiar pose-fingers locked behind her beautiful blonde head as it rested on the pillow. And she closed her eyes as he ran his hands over her shapely legs for an added thrill.

She offered not the slightest resistance as he brushed her skirt higher. His moist palm moved upward along her thigh onto her bare, satiny flesh following the narrow strip of ruffled white elastic garter to the black lace border of her transparent panties. He raised her skirt higher. It was all very familiar to him, yet at the same time so new and exciting because he had been away for such a long time.

His fingers tingled as he ran them over the silky material of her panties and her legs straightened out as he lingered momentarily to pat the soft cushion where her thighs were joined. She unfastened the waistband of her skirt so he could work it down off her hips and legs and toss it into a chair alongside the bed. Next, he peeled down her panties. Then he unfastened her stockings and her garter belt. One stocking she rolled down carefully to just below her knee; the other she left high on her thigh. He remembered she always used to do that when they were alone together, because it made her look sexier, more desirable. That was hardly necessary right now. If she was any more desirable, he couldn't have contained himself. As it was, it was taking all the willpower at his command.

Her garter belt and the elastic waistband of her panties had left faint red marks on her tummy. He leaned forward and kissed the spots but it was only an excuse. He did what he'd wanted to do ever since the door to the elevator in her apartment slid open and he saw her standing there. He threshed his way through the blonde silky forest, spread apart her thighs and tasted the warmth of her womanhood.

She writed under him. "No fair!" she panted.

She proceeded to show him what was fair, by making him take off his trousers, shorts and shirt and again lie on his back on the bed. Then in inverted order, she leaned over him and as she lowered herself to him, enclosed him with her mouth. The thrill she brought to him was almost more than he could endure. Bianca, Freda-and all others paled by comparison to the magic of Janice's lips and tongue. She was the ultimate. The very end.

But they didn't go all the way. After eight years of waiting, he didn't want it this way, this first time. So when he asked her, she rolled over and lay on her back as he climbed over her. She spread her legs wide for him to offer him easier access.

She felt so wonderful to him as he entered the moist warmth of her body, that it was as if he had never had her before. Yet at the same time, he felt as if he had never been away, velvety inside of her body to his size.

Slowly, languidly he moved against her as she lay with her eyes closed beneath him and hardly stirred. They both knew that was the way the other wanted it and that was what they were both there for, to please and enjoy every second of it.

It wasn't until she felt his strokes grow longer and even slower and he began to swell to dangerous proportions inside her that she even spoke.

"I'm ready, darling ... I'm ready whenever you are," she breathed heavy with passion. She drew in her stomach and made herself still tighter for him.

He drove to the full depths of the wall of fire raging inside her and with his two hands on her buttocks there he held. She muffled a scream at his bigness and then let the scream go, as he let eight years of love deep into her interior. She hadn't lied to him. She had been ready, too ... and she throbbed out her passion against him even after he had begun to shrivel away....