Chapter 3

Jack wanted to spend his days at the library so that he could be with Erin, but he knew that was not practical on several levels. And each morning, over the next two weeks, he forced himself to stick with his routine of writing at least one chapter before lunch. He would then take a walk around the block, eat lunch, and get back to work by two, or go by the library for story time with the kids.

In the evenings, he would allow himself a couple of hours on-line. Most of the nights Erin was there to chat, and they flirted shamelessly with each other. The two evenings they had gone out to dinner and to see a couple of high school plays that his nieces April and Beth participated in, he had found hot e-mails waiting for him in his box.

He had not responded to her with anything erotic in return. His instincts were telling him to wait; they were also telling him to wait about kissing her.

Thursday morning, three weeks, after her first e-mail to him, Jack shoved himself away from the computer. For the first time since his college days, he was not going to get a chapter written before lunch. It was eleven o'clock and only four pages were completed. He simply could not focus on his work.

Putting on his leather sneakers, he grabbed his umbrella, and drove in the pouring rain to the library. He hoped that Erin would be able to go out to lunch with him.

Erin was in the children's room, shelving books and Jack found her in the biography section. She had pulled several books off a shelf and was putting them back one at a time, checking the spines to make sure they were in correct order.

She was wearing a full calf-length denim skirt and a bright blue silky blouse. Her hair hung loosely on her shoulders and he had to resist pressing himself against her back, burying his face in her thick curls, and rubbing his hands over her breasts.

"Hi," he said, softly.

"Hey, you." She turned and smiled at him. "Aren't you supposed to be writing?"

"Yeah, but I'm having a bad day."

"Writer's block?" she asked, turning back to her work.

He picked up one of the books and flipped through it, wishing his cock would stop reacting to her every move. "Not to so much that, as just not being able to concentrate. I thought you might like to kiss --" He winced and cursed. "I mean go out to lunch."

She giggled and put some more books back on the shelf. "I should be done here in about another half hour."

"I'll go --"

"Jack?"

"Yes?"

She pushed the cart from between them and moved so that she could place her hands on his chest. "Do you want to kiss me?"

"Yes, please."

He wasn't sure who did what, but their lips met and their tongues followed suit. Moaning softly, he slid his hands down to her buttocks and gently pressed her against his groin.

She pulled out of the kiss. "Hon, we might ought to finish this later."

"Lord," he released her, "I'm sorry." His cheeks were burning. "I didn't mean to --"

"Jack."

"Yes?"

"Have you always blushed this much?"

He shook his head. "I think I might be going through a mid-life crisis."

Grinning, she feather kissed his lips. "May I go through it with you?"

He nodded. "I'd like that very much."

Mid-way through their burgers and fries, Jack stopped eating, propped his right elbow on the table and watched Erin as she swallowed a fry.

The torrential downpour outside the windows, combined with thunder, made for a cozy atmosphere in Carrie's Corner, and they hadn't talked very much as they sat across from each other in the back window booth. Jack's mind had wandered into some rather warm climates, and he was thinking about running his tongue along Erin's neck when she waved her hand in front of his face.

"Hey, handsome," she said softly, "what's on your mind?"

"Kissing you."

"Anything else?" She touched his hand.

An unexpected current shot through his cock. "Holy crap," he gasped.

She giggled and asked if he was okay.

He nodded. "I'm just so horny you could probably touch me anywhere and rockets would go off."

"Oh, really?"

He saw the glint of mischief enter her eyes and quickly sat back in the booth.

Laughing, she took a swallow of her soda and picked up another fry. Instead of taking a bite of the potato, though, she swirled her tongue around the top of it and winked at him.

"Please, don't," he whispered, not really wanting her to stop.

She teased him for a few seconds more before putting the fry back on her plate. Then, folding her arms on the table, she grinned at him. "Mr. Travers, I double-dog dare you to tell me what else you were thinking about."

He heaved an exaggerated sigh. "That, Miss Kelly, is fighting dirty."

"No, Mr. Travers, fighting dirty is grabbing you by the balls until you tell me."

He laughed and leaned forward with his arms resting like hers on the table. Speaking in a tone that only she could hear, he said, "I pull you into my arms and kiss you. We moan in pleasure as our hot mouths lock together. Our tongues meet softly, and then withdraw, only to meet again in fiery embrace. We kiss the kiss that lovers denied have felt for untold centuries."