Smooth Jazz Ch. 02

*I'm still developing the story so please leave feedback and comments, letting me know what you think. These characters have a lot of depth and potential. With your help I can continue to develop them even more. I hope you can relate to them both and that your anticipating whats going to happen just as I am!* PS. I am really trying with grammar, hopefully you can follow the story! Oh and things get a little hot in this one! ;-)

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JAZZ REARRANGED THE PAPERS ON HER DESK TO MAKE SURE EVERYTHING WAS IN ORDER. At least things seemed about right. But they weren't. Maybe it was the light playing from the desk lamp?

It was hunched forward, shedding light on her work , and copying her movements. The lamp seem to mock the stressful slouch of her back and the tension in her neck. She rubbed the ache at the core of it. She was trying to work out the kink, but with little success.

Her office had become her cave for the past six months. A place she could escape to when the sadness overcame her. She frowned, thinking of the last time she wasn't sad and or depressed. Those moments came few and too far between.

A whole six months had passed since she found a lawyer and sign the divorce papers. Now the battle was underway. William wanted to walk away with everything.

The only thing Jazz managed to hold on to was the property they had next door. Her and William owned and rented the house out to tourist, spring breakers and a whole host of others. Even that, William wanted to take for himself.

Yet she wanted it. Jazz was the one who decorated, and invested the most time and money. The home felt more like hers than the home that they had lived in. It had been a source of joy for her. The home was something that was a project of hers. She wanted to create a sense of comfort for anyone who graced it with their presence. It mattered to her. No wonder William wanted it.

He still thought she was pathetic. And what had she done to dispel that theory? Nothing. She had locked herself in her office and shut out the world.

Her family rarely got a hold of her and she rarely answered any of their concerned questions. At least the ones like where have you been?, are you okay? , and how is William? The divorce made her feel like a failure. Admitting it was a sign of that failure, so she avoided the questioning.

She barely had any of her friends left. She had managed to shut them out before and after the divorce. She never noticed how much she wrapped herself up in William. And why? Well William was sweet when they courted. She was a southern girl trying to make it as a pianist in the big city. She needed someone like him to guide her, so she thought.

When they met at that recital, she was wide eyed with her nose right open. He was distinguished, prestigious, and though a little pretentious, he seem to have so much going for him. He made her feel important, like she was somebody. At first she didn't mind the guidance.

It started out as small suggestions like, what she should wear, her hair, the house. Then suggestions became commands and orders. Then guidance became control. Then here she was now, letting the divorce drown her. Slowly but surely she was trying to come up for air.

Jazz was hoping it was all a bad dream. Although, every morning she woke up it was getting easier to face the sunlight. It was getting easier to go over the reasons why she loved him. She was starting to doubt ever being in love with William Price. She was also doubting ever loving herself.

Isn't that why she married William? For love? When they met at that dinner recital, Jazz realized one of the kids she mentored to for piano lessons, his nephew, was one of her brightest students. When they first met she thought he was a classic gentlemen.

William was all class and he seemed to be taken by her. She was a small figure in the community, but she was pushing for more funding for the arts programs. She was teaching piano lessons to wealthy children in the suburban area, and receiving financial help from her parents. She got her bachelors degree from a esteemed performance of the arts school in Sacramento.

Her dream was to have her own arts center in the community and other communities. She wanted to branch out of her home and help children, no matter what race or class, reach their full potential.

She was gaining recognition for her stellar performances, guest starring, at the local school recitals and in some venues downtown. Many people respected her relentless efforts and wanted to help keep her dream of the organization thriving. Jazz was hoping to make it broader, but soon William would take over and crush her dreams.

He felt that it didn't suit them as a couple. People within his political circle were talking. Jazz was confronting some touchy issues, such as , where money was going in the community? And why certain programs received more money than others?

William didn't want any part of the drama that might ensue, because for him, it was all about image. How they looked in public or in front of his friends when together, not what they meant to each other, is what really mattered to him. He was always the endearing husband in public.

People seem to envy them and their facade of happiness. William seemed to adore her. Then when they got home, he would scold her like a child. She never "behaved" good enough for him. She never dressed well enough. He nitpicked until he tore her down. Until she sought for his approval. And god forbid she complain.

On the wedding night she gave herself to him. He was not her first but neither she his. Yet he complained. Jazz ignored him. She was just ready to make love with her husband. To experience wonderful climaxes of passion and be taken to new heights. Afterward she was disappointed.

For Jazz, it wasn't love making but mediocre sex. It lacked the passion. Even so, she felt if she loved him that the sex wasn't important. He said he loved her and everything they had was perfect.

As long as they made adjustments and sacrifices then it would stay that way. Wasn't Jazz the one who made all the adjustments though and the sacrifices? He didn't have to give up a damn thing. Since William made most of the money, he made most of the decisions.

He wouldn't even allow her to decorate their house herself. Someone with a keener eye and delicate taste had to do it, Jazz had little input.

It wasn't a marriage she thought bitterly. It was never about them but about him. Why couldn't she just face that and leave? That was the question she really wanted no answer too.

She knew it had to do with her self-esteem, her self-worth. Was it that low? That she had allowed him to take over her entire life. Jazz was starting to see there was nothing to do but go forward. She had to pick up the pieces and move on. Focus on the now. The divorce.

Jazz looked over the papers Ellen had faxed her. Basically a list of Williams demands. Jazz snorted. Even after the divorce he was still trying to tell her what to do. She scanned through them quickly. He was leaving her the house of course, and all of her possessions. She was fine with this.

Jazz had made that decision in court alongside her lawyer, who wanted to rake his cheating ass over the coals. Jazz just wanted it to be over. She decided that he could take what belong to him, and she what belong to her. She didn't even point out the new found relationship he had with his divorce lawyer/mistress. William seemed pleased with her, and even thanked her on preserving herself as a lady.

She wanted to rip him a new one but only smiled.

Then things turned ugly. She wanted the property and for some reason he didn't want that, anything but that. When he said no and she told him she would fight him on it, he called her a worthless bitch. Jazz again just flashed him a forced smile.

She wouldn't let him see her crumble; she had plenty of time to do so in her nights alone.

She was only twenty-eight. She married early and maybe that was her own fault. She would try not to brood over it for long. Jazz knew she had to gather all the strength she could and be grateful. She was grateful, thank god she didn't have any of his kids.

She cut the lamp off in her office and rose from the oak wooden chair. The office was spacious enough. She had bothered to put blue striped wall paper on the once plain walls. Now that William was gone she could make the changes that she wanted. She smiled, one small victory at a time.

The three windows which were always pulled open poured in a series of sunlight as if to compliment her smile. She gave the room another once over. She wanted to keep everything efficient and professional.

The upgraded fax machine, computer, and lab top were now necessary. Her clientele was growing. Her in home program was booming. Jazz just needed funding, and few good hands to get her program rolling. She had plans to speak and perform at an upcoming banquet and political fundraiser. She was making some serious moves, without William holding her back.

She had even saved up enough money to add another piano to the home. Living in the sub burbs there were plenty of parents who wanted their child to receive private lessons. Parents would come up to her after her performances ,at schools in the community, and beg her to take their child under her wing.

She also spent time traveling, guest-speaking at private schools, and passing along some techniques. Sometimes she even got to perform, which was always a stress reliever. She glanced at the paper of "demands" once more.

William had left her the house next door, now he wanted to take it away. Suddenly as if he had forgotten something he wanted it back.

Jazz looked at her watch and frowned. She was running a little late. She had a guy name Connor O'Malley coming over to look over the house, before they finalized the paper work. They only had communicated through email, and she was anxious to talk to him in person. She was anxious to make a little money and honored to provide the solider a place to stay, while on break from the Army.

Apparently he was never on leave for long and usually stayed with his father, use to living on base. However, now he was on leave for six months. Apparently for reasons he cared not to discuss, but he needed a permanent residence for the time being.

She could only hope that he was a patient man. Through his emails she could tell he knew what he wanted and how to get it. She couldn't help but notice he was a little flirtatious as well but wondered if she was reading too much into his words.

Dear Mr. O'Malley,

I'm excited for you to see the home. The pictures I sent you really don't do it justice. Sorry about hounding you for a picture, I just like to know who I am meeting a head of time. Are you sure you don't need one of me. I want to make sure your completely comfortable before our meeting.

Dear Ms. Simmons,

I assure you I am more than willing to oblige your request for a picture. Trust me I know there are some real creeps out there. I am more than capable of handling myself. I''m not worried about us meeting. However, If you are crazy I must warn you I am trained in combat. I wouldn't hesitate to restrain you, but then again some crazy women like that sort of thing. Although I'm sure a woman such as your self doesn't think the way I do. Or do you?

Dear Mr. O'Malley,

I don't think we share the same mind at all. Its nice to know your trained though. I can have my own personal body guard near by. However; unlike most women I can not say I am crazy for a man in uniform.

Dear Ms. Simmons,

What about a man out of Uniform?

Jazz laughed as she thought about their emails back and forth. Was she flirting back? She had never met him but for some reason she found herself attracted to him and they hadn't even met. She figured it was due to her current loneliness. There was no way she could be feeling something from a few flirtatious emails.

Still there was something about him that stirred something inside her.

Jazz walked over to the house next door, she looked around and the place was empty. Thank God. She remembered she had forgotten to check the bedrooms on the way over. Jazz went to go check on the master bedroom first.

She walked in, made up the bed, and straightened everything out. Then she plopped down finally finished and looked at her watch again. Where was this guy? She started to get agitated, but remembered she was late as well so she couldn't really complain.

She pulled his photo out of her purse. It was a picture of him standing next to his Navigator. She got up and looked out the window, but didn't see Connor or his car. She had printed a picture off of him to be on the safe side when they met. Ever since the incident in the alley she had been on edge, but she couldn't say she wasn't excited to meet him.

What about a man out of uniform? She thought about his words. Jazz looked down at his picture. She surely wouldn't mind, he was fine. Those jade green eyes were beautiful, a contrast to his dark hair.

She could tell he had been out in the sun, as a result, his skin held a golden tan. Jazz shifted back on the bed, as she thought about his eyes staring into her and him standing over her. Staring her down with those Jade green eyes.

She pictured them standing in front of each other. They would stare into each others eyes passionately. She could run her fingers through his hair, and over those broad shoulders. She imagined him lifting her up in his strong arms, and laying her on the bed. She placed a hand on her thigh imagining it was him touching her.

It had been so long since she had been touched. About 10 months, three weeks and two days, but who was counting.

Jazz ran a hand across her silky white dress shirt, rubbing her breast, and caressing herself as her breath got a pace quicker. She laid herself down on the bed as if he had pushed her body down, and lifted her pencil skirt to her waist.

She rubbed the outside of her black panties, imaging his fingers running over her pussy, moving her panties to the side, and sticking his fingers inside of her. Then he would make her taste herself. Taking her lips with his while he rubbed his dick in between her legs and up against her clit.

She moaned in pleasure rubbing her clit faster, her eyes closed. He would enter her slowly at first. He would take his time, and inch by inch he would push his dick inside of her. He would make her feel all things she hadn't felt before. He would lift her legs and put them on his shoulders, and push in and out of her wet pussy.

She arched her back and cried out as she rubbed her pussy even faster. She could feel her wetness on the tips of her manicured fingers. She could feel her climax getting closer and closer, as he pumped his dick into her, but faster now. Each stroke was more powerful then before, as he only desired to bring her to the edge.

Kissing her neck, biting her gently as she cried out for more. Crushing his chest against her breast, and whispering in her ear how bad he wanted her. She massaged her clit wanting so badly to cum all over his dick that she imagined making love to her.

Faster he pounded into her, lusting for her. Taking her breast into his mouth, one hand on her neck, her pussy gripping him for dear life. She cried out louder, wanting to feel all of him she moved down on his dick. Pushing against him, as they rocked back and forth. Nothing but passion between them.

WHERE THE HELL WAS SHE? Connor thought as he walked over to the house next door. He had been knocking at her door for over five minutes. He knew he was late, but damn.

That's when he figured his future landlady might be at the house next door. He twisted the knob and it was unlocked. This must be it, she did say the door would be open. Still, he didn't just want to walk in. He was already nervous. He was on leave for six months. It felt like they were casting him aside. His nightmares had gotten worse.

His refusal to seek help had caught up with him. To avoid being honorably discharged he was on temporary leave to get himself "better." What the hell was better? The army was his life. His means of escape, now it was his nightmare.

Connor couldn't blame them. He was an officer, a leader. He couldn't lead if he wasn't in the right emotional state. So he would take this time off. Enjoy himself, and get "better." Maybe he could start doing that once he finalized the papers. He couldn't do that without his landlord. He looked at his watch. Fuck it.

His patience was really wearing thin. So when he called out , knocked again and she didn't answer he decided to step in and wait. This was what he was looking for, something temporary but not a bunched up apartment with all the rules and regulations. He gazed around and it was a pretty nice house.

In her email she said he would be impressed and he was. It was ranch style. The outside was made of red and brownish bricks. It looked like she had built a path, and had planted the beautiful flowers that were on the outside of the house. Even the welcome sign on the front door added to its charm.

Soon as you walked in the door the living room opened up to you. The polished wooden floors didn't creak, and looked as if you could eat from them as they shined with pride.

The lady who owned the place knew how to keep it tidy. The windows were against the wall to the left of the door. They were long if not narrow and were covered by shades that went up and down by a handle whether then string.

The love seat was a dark gray, his favorite color, to his like and amusement. The couch was a matching color and was a pull out, which was cool. Then what was a house without a fireplace? Connor thought.

The mantle held a shelf where he could place photos if he decided too. He had yet to unpack his roller and army duffel bag. He always traveled light.

No more then what he needed it, and if he needed anything he could very well pay for it. The big screen TV was a plus and the fact that the house came fully equipped. It was also already decorated and she had pretty good taste.

"Mhmm very nice. Very nice." His dad had recommended the place to him. He told Connor he had seen her ad online. Since his dad didn't complain that Connor didn't want to stay with him on his leave, he accepted his help with no complaint. He didn't want to stay with his dad. Especially if he wanted to bring back a lady friend, which would just be awkward.

Connor never let the women he dated meet his father. He didn't like the idea of his dad getting attach to them and expecting them to be around. His dad had a tendency of putting thoughts of marriage in the conversation when Connor mentioned a lady friend. He knew his dad wanted that for him. Connor was damn near thirty, at twenty-nine years old.

Sorry to disappoint his dad, but he had to be honest that marriage was the furthest thing from his mind. Connor had seen a lot of men try the whole marriage thing, but when it comes to the army its hard to make it work. He had seen many relationships destroyed at the hands of protecting and serving the country.

Sometimes it worked but Connor figured it wouldn't for him. The distance was a big strain on relationships. He brought his attention back to the time, when he heard a loud cry coming from the back of the house where the bedrooms were.

He felt his instincts kick up immediately and he ran to where the noise was. He moved swiftly, immediately pinpointing the noise, and fell upon the first bedroom. He then stopped in his tracks. There she was. Damn.

The source of the noise, she was sprawled out on the bed and rubbing her pussy like crazy and writhing in pleasure. Connor looked on. She was beautiful, her hair sprawled across the bed as she writhed in heat.