Heaven, Texas

by Susan Elizabeth Phillips

  He maneuvered her to the bedroom with an urgency that both thrilled and scared her. She loved knowing he wanted her, but she wasn’t at all certain she could satisfy him. She’d always been a bit clumsy at physical activities, and surely this, was the most physical of all. Her eyes fastened on the Sleeping Beauty bed that dominated the room, and she swallowed hard.

  “It’s too late for second thoughts, sweetheart. I’m afraid we passed the point of no return a good two weeks ago.” He sat down on the side of the bed and yanked off his boots and socks. His gaze meandered down to the white lace of her panties that showed through the open zipper of her shorts.

  The fussy femininity of the bedroom should have made him less intimidating, but instead he had never seemed so overpowering to her, or so completely male. Her sexual excitement gave way to anxiety. She stared at him and could only wonder how she had gotten herself in such a predicament. How had it happened that she was about to offer herself to a multimillionaire Texas playboy jock who’d been pursued by the most alluring women in the world?

  And then he smiled at her, and her doubts faded as her heart filled with love. She was offering herself to him because she wanted to. She was building a memory that would keep her company for the rest of her life. He held out his hand and she walked toward him.

  The fingers that clasped her own were strong and reassuring. “It’s all-right, honey.

  “I know.”

  “You do?” Catching her by the hips, he brought her to stand between his splayed thighs.

  “Uh-huh. You’ve already told me that you don’t do anything you’re not good at.”

  “That’s true, sweetheart. ‘Course you are a handful.” He carried his lips to her breast and slipped his hands inside her shorts to pull them down, along with her panties. She set one hand on his shoulder and stepped out of the lacy scrap of fabric, glad to be rid of them, feeling very much like a butterfly finally escaping from a chrysalis that had held it captive far too long. His eyes settled on the nest of coppery curls between her legs. Curling her fingers around as much of his upper arm as she could span, she tugged on him until he stood.

  When he was on his feet, she slipped her fingers over the waistband of his jeans, where they had fallen open low on his hips, and discovered he hadn’t been teasing when he said he wasn’t wearing any briefs. Her hands trembled, and she hesitated.

  He cupped the back of her head and lightly twined his fingers in her curls. “Go ahead, sweetheart. It’s all right.”

  Her mouth felt dry as she slowly tugged on the soft denim. Keeping her eyes on the floor, she knelt. With infinite slowness, she slid the jeans over his hips and along his strong thighs to his ankles. He kicked them aside. With a sense of anticipation, she settled back on her calves.

  Lifting her gaze past the scars at his knee, she paused at his hips. “Oh, my . . .”

  She hadn’t expected it to be quite so imposing, quite so commanding. Her lips parted, and she couldn’t take her eyes away. It was magnificent, even better than she’d imagined. Incredible to have something like that thrusting out so boldly. Her forehead creased, but she refused to let the size worry her. Somehow he’d make certain she accommodated.

  “This is going to be a disaster,” he murmured.

  Her head shot up and she gazed at him with stricken eyes. A red flush burned her skin. Mortified, she jumped to her feet. “I’m sorry! I didn’t meant to stare. I—”

  “No, baby!” He dragged her into his arms and chuckled. “It’s not you. You’re perfect. It’s me. You’re driving me so crazy with the way you’re looking at me that we’re in imminent danger of having this whole thing over in ten seconds flat.”

  She was so relieved she hadn’t done anything wrong that a bubble of laughter rose in her throat. “I guess we’d just have to do it again, then, wouldn’t we?”

  “Gracie Snow, you’re turning into a trashy woman right before my eyes.” He slipped the chain holding the Super Bowl ring over her head. “This is definitely my lucky night.”

  He started kissing her again, and his hands were all over her body, kneading her buttocks, rubbing her against him. She reveled in the feel of his bare skin pressing against her own. She wrapped her arms around his neck and tangled them in the waterfall of eyelet and ribbon cascading from the canopy. He drew her free, stripped back the spread, and laid her on Sleeping Beauty’s bed. But he was no fairy-tale prince with only chaste kisses on his mind.

  She locked her gaze with his and slowly separated her legs, offering herself with a sense of gladness. He smiled and settled next to her on the bed, laying the palm of his hand flat on her belly. “You are one of a kind, sweetheart.”

  Dipping his head, he kissed her again, while his fingers trailed down through the silky curls, then detoured to stroke her inner thighs. He began to torture her with his caress, coming closer and closer, but not quite touching.

  She went wild, arching against his hand, every muscle taut. “Please!” she gasped against his lips. “Don’t stop there . . .”

  “I won’t, sweetheart. Believe me, I won’t.”

  He parted her, and her breath caught on a sob as he traced her secrets with his fingertip. Her whole body began to quiver. He eased his finger inside her, and, just like that, she came apart with a great cry.

  He held her through the aftershocks. As soon as she calmed and felt him, still rigid, pressed against the side of her hip, she had to fight back tears. She had wanted to give, but all she’d done was take.

  “I— I ruined everything. I’m so—so sorry. I knew I’d mess this up.” She swallowed a sob. “I wanted to be—to be perfect, but I was never good at phy—physical things. Nobody ever wanted me on their team in gym, and now you know why. I’m all done, and you’re—you’re not, and I r—ruined it.” She was so stricken by her premature orgasm that she barely felt his lips moving at her temple.

  “Nobody can be good at everything, sweetheart.” His voice had a queer, choked sound to it.

  “But I wanted so much to be—to be good at this!”

  “I understand.” He settled on top of her and nudged her legs apart with his own. “Sometimes you just have to accept your faults. A little bit wider, honey.”

  It was the least she could do for him.

  Once again, she felt his hand brush her thighs, and then his finger invaded. He groaned. “You’re so tight.”

  “I’m sorry. It’s because I’ve never—” She gasped as he began a slow, rhythmic stroking that uncoiled ribbons of sensation inside her. He touched her everywhere, his skillful, inquisitive fingers making intimate silken patterns.

  “Bobby Tom?” She whispered his name as if it were a question.

  “Don’t apologize, sweetheart. You can’t help being a failure.” Through her excitement, she realized he was smiling against her damp cheek. But before she could figure out why, she felt a hard probing at the small entrance to her body. Her hands convulsed around his shoulders as tingling shocks of pleasure raced through her body. “Oh . . .”

  He eased inside, stretching her bit by bit, giving her time to adjust to his size. She could feel his restraint in the tight coiling of his muscles beneath her hands. But she didn’t want restraint. She had been waiting for this forever.

  “Hurry,” she gasped. “Please hurry.”

  “I don’t want to hurt you, honey.” His voice sounded tight, the way it did when he lifted weights.

  “Please. Don’t hold back.”

  “You don’t know what you’re asking.”

  “I do. I want everything.”

  He trembled and drove into her. Shafts of delight sped through her tissues and sang in her blood. She lifted her hips and wrapped her legs around his. He shoved his hands beneath her and tilted her higher, thrusting more deeply. She reveled in her ability to bear his weight, to accept his sex, and she gave a gasp of joy at the woman’s magic that permitted her body to accommodate his.

  His breathing was a rough rasp in her ear, and she moved with him as i
f she’d been doing it forever. The sensations that swept through her felt more powerful than anything she’d ever imagined, like wind and thunder. He carried her higher and higher into the clouds, toward a mysterious place where only ecstasy dwelt. The dampness from their bodies mingled with their cries until they were part of the clouds. For a moment they hung there, perfectly suspended. And then they tumbled together in a warm shower of silver rain.

  It could have been minutes or hours before she hit the earth. The world returned in bits and pieces: the brush of cool air on her arm, the distant sound of a jet passing overhead. His body grew heavy on hers. She welcomed the weight and experienced a pang of loss when she felt a gentle suction as he pulled out of her.

  He rolled to his stomach, keeping his face turned toward her and laying his upper arm across her chest, just beneath her breasts. He fell into a light doze, and, as she lay on her back, she studied him, memorizing every detail of his face: the sensuous lower lip, the way his spiky lashes rested on his cheekbone, the straight, strong nose, and the curl of damp blond hair at his temple. His skin looked golden in the soft lamplight. He was so beautiful he took her breath away.

  Joy surged through her. She wanted to dance; she wanted to climb up on the roof of the house and cheer. She had never been so full of energy.

  “Bobby Tom?”

  “Uhmm . . .”

  “Could you open your eyes?”

  “Urgmm . . .”

  She thought of a cartoon she’d seen long ago of dancing mice holding frilly umbrellas. That’s how she felt lying naked here in bed with this man, as full of happiness as a dancing mouse with a frilly umbrella. “That was even better than I thought it would be. I knew you’d be an excellent lover—you really are, Bobby Tom—I’m sure you must be exceptional. But you shouldn’t have teased me when I thought I’d ruined everything with my premature orgasm.”

  He opened one eye and, with his cheek still pressed against the pillow, peered at her. “In case you haven’t figured it out yet, there isn’t any such thing as a premature orgasm for a woman.”

  “How was I supposed to know that? I mean this in a constructive way, so please don’t be offended, but you have an annoying habit of making jokes that only you understand.”

  He smiled and lifted the arm draped across her chest to play in her hair with his fingers. “That was just about irresistible.” He gave a bark of laughter. “Premature orgasm.”

  “Men can have them. I don’t see why women can’t.”

  “Damn, you modern females want everything, don’t you? Well, sweetheart, us men are keeping this one just for ourselves, even if you take us all the way to the Supreme Court.” He yawned and rolled to his back, taking most of the sheet with him.

  She sat up against the headboard. “Are you hungry? I am. I couldn’t eat too much earlier because I was so nervous, but, I swear, I could eat a horse now. I’ll settle for a sandwich, though, or even a bowl of cereal, or soup. Or maybe—”

  “Chatty little thing, aren’t you?”

  “Do you think we could do it again?”

  He groaned. “I need a little recovery time. I’m not as young as I used to be a couple of hours ago.”

  “I thought— Well, I know there are some different positions, and, to be completely honest, I’m rather fascinated by the, uh, male organ, and I didn’t get much opportunity to really study it, and—”

  She broke off as the bed began to shake with his laughter. “The male organ!”

  She regarded him huffily. “I don’t see what’s so amusing. I’m too old to be this ignorant, and I have a lot of years to make up for.”

  His forehead wrinkled in mock alarm. “Not in one night, I hope.”

  “Somehow I don’t think you’d have the slightest bit of trouble keeping up with me.” She hadn’t failed to notice that, despite his words, he’d been regarding the exposed parts of her with unmistakable signs of interest.

  The telephone intruded. Although the ringer on the phone at the side of the bed had been turned off, she’d been able to hear the one in his office ringing intermittently ever since they’d entered the house. She was accustomed to the way he let his answering machine take the majority of his calls and had paid no attention. This time he sighed and rolled over to pick it up.

  “Maybe if I take this one, whoever it is will leave us alone for the rest of the night. Hello . . . No, Luther, it’s okay, I wasn’t asleep. . . Uh-huh. Yeah, I should have that list firmed up in another day or so. . . . You want George Strait, too?” He rolled his eyes. “I can’t talk any longer, Luther. I’ve got a call coming in on the other line, and I’m pretty sure it’s Troy Aikman. Yeah, I’ll tell her.”

  He slammed down the phone and thrust himself up against the pillows. “He told me to remind you about the birthplace committee meeting. You’re not going. Damn fools.”

  “I think I will go, as a matter of fact. One of us needs to know what they’re up to.”

  “Insanity, that’s what they’re up to, and you’d better stay away because it might be contagious.” His eyes wandered to her breasts. “Are you ready for round two, or do you want to sit here jabbering all night?”

  She smiled at him. “I’m definitely ready for round two.”

  “But . . .” She gathered her courage, determined not to let him get his way in everything, even if he did have a few decades more experience than she, and even if she wasn’t all that confident of her new abilities as a sex siren. “I’m ready for round two, but this time I would very much like to be the person calling the shots.”

  He regarded her warily. “What exactly do you mean by that?”

  “There’s no reason for you to feign ignorance, Bobby Tom. I believe our communication channels are completely open.”

  He chuckled.

  She reached out for the rumpled sheet covering his hips and pushed it away. “I was thinking that the best place to satisfy my curiosity might be in the shower.”

  “The shower?”

  “If you don’t mind.”

  “I don’t mind one bit. But are you positive you’re ready? Taking a shower with me means for sure you’ll be going from beginner to intermediate in just one night.”

  She gazed at him and her lips curved in a smile as old as Eve. “I can’t wait.”

  16

  They went up in his plane the next day, and she was thrilled with the sensations of flying in a small aircraft. Bobby Tom had announced that morning he was taking her to Austin so he could show her some of the city, including his old college haunts. The day was clear, and as he identified the rivers and canyons they flew over, she stole sideways glances at him.

  Last night he’d been everything she’d dreamed he’d be: tender and demanding, praising her passion and refusing to let her hold anything back. She had given herself to him out of the fullness of her heart, and she didn’t regret anything. Years from now when she was holding a paper-thin hand through its last hours of life, she would find her own comfort in the memories of the night she had been loved so well by Bobby Tom Denton.

  “It sure is nice to get away from that telephone,” he said, as he banked the plane. “Luther must call me six times a day, not to mention everybody else who wants a piece of me.”

  “You can’t really blame Mayor Baines for being nervous about the golf tournament,” she pointed out. “Heavenfest is two months away and you haven’t given him a list of names. Don’t you think you should start calling your friends to invite them?”

  “I suppose,” he said, without enthusiasm.

  “I know why you’re stalling. You’ll do favors for everybody in the world, but you don’t want to ask for any in return.”

  “You don’t understand, Gracie. Athletes have people hounding them all the time. If it isn’t one thing, it’s another.”

  “Are you telling me that none of these men has ever asked you for a favor?”

  “A few.”

  “More than a few, I’ll bet.” She gave him a sympathetic smile. “Why
don’t you give me a list of your friends? I’ll make the phone calls first thing tomorrow on your behalf.”

  “You just want to have Troy Aikman’s home phone number. Sorry, honey, but I don’t think he’s your type.”

  “Bobby Tom . . .”

  “Hmmm?”

  “I hate to lower your opinion of me, but I don’t have the slightest idea who Troy Aikman is.”

  He rolled his eyes. “He’s a pretty well-known quarterback, sweetheart. He’s taken the Cowboys to a couple of Super Bowls.”

  “I guess I’d have a hard time passing the football quiz.”

  “I just hope to hell none of the ladies around here ever decides to challenge you.”

  She was a bit tense during the landing at the small airstrip, but he brought the plane in so smoothly she barely felt it touch down. Was there anything he didn’t do well?

  Once on the ground, he procured a car from one of his acquaintances at the airstrip and took her on a tour of the city, including the state capital building and the University of Texas campus. As the sunlight faded, they walked along Town Lake, a popular spot in downtown Austin.

  “Pretty soon you’re going to see something you won’t ever see in New Grundy.”

  She gazed at the imposing buildings that surrounded the lake and the bridge that ran across it. People sat in boats on the water as if they were waiting for a fireworks show to begin, and she noticed a large number of dark birds swooping in the sky. She also smelled an odor that was faintly acrid, reminding her of a zoo. “I’ve seen a lot of things like that today. What else is there?”

  His grin seemed to hold a trace of mischief. “One of Mother Nature’s better shows. You like bats, honey?”

  “Bats?” She stared up at the strange, dark birds. The vaguely feral scent pricked at her nostrils. She was aware of a squeaking sound. “I don’t think— Oh, my God!”

  As if on cue, a great dark wave of bats flew out from their roost under the bridge, thousands of them. And then thousands more. As she watched, spellbound, more and more came out until hundreds of thousands of them filled the sky like thick, dense smoke. She let out a startled shriek as several swooped a bit too close for comfort.