Shadows of the Past

by Frances Housden

  “But my—?” She brushed the backs of her fingers down the lace skirt of her chemise that flirted with her knees.

  “Looks absolutely stunning. I can’t wait to take it off you.” She didn’t back away as Franc thought she might when he stopped in front of her and lifted the hand she’d used to signal her consternation. He kissed the quivering knuckles, glimpsed uncertainty in her eyes as he looked down. Without her sandals, the top of her head didn’t even skim his chin. “I’m going to kiss you. We’ve kissed before and I know you liked it. It won’t be any different than it was then.”

  Her bottom lip quivered, but he sensed the underlying humor even before she spoke. “We weren’t naked before.”

  His laughter poured over Maria and lifted her courage. “We’re not naked now. Just heading in that direction. Don’t worry, I said I’d take care of you and I will. We won’t advance until you say you’re ready to move on.”

  Franc was as good as his word. Even before he slipped her onto the bed, she was a trembling mass of wants and needs that lived only for his touch. But she hadn’t lost all sense of self-preservation.

  His mouth was hot and damp on her skin and the lace lying between both added a new element to the experience. Her skin sang in pleasure at the treatment, and at the juncture of her thighs she felt hot and strange as if she were melting.

  Her breasts grew tight under his ministrations and she pouted as he moved on from them, lower, swirling his wet tongue into her naval through the lace, sliding her chemise higher, higher, baring her to his mouth.

  That’s when panic dashed her with cold water and cooled the heat in her blood. She pushed at his hands. “No.”

  He took his weight on his elbows. His head lifted, revealing the puzzle in his eyes. “I’m not going to hurt you, hon. I just want to make it easier on you, take care of you just like you asked.”

  “It’s not that I dislike what you’re doing, but…can we do it with the lights out? I tighten up all over at the thought of you looking at me close up.” She was being less than honest. What made her skin creep was the thought of Franc looking at the scar on her belly that ran down from her navel into the dark curls and cross-sectioned the curve of her belly. She imagined disgust on his face when the dimpled scar was revealed. Unlike the others on her breasts, the wound had been deeper, left open too long before needle and thread had drawn the edges together.

  Maria nipped at her bottom lip. Had she spoiled the moment? Did he have the patience to cope with her inexperience? It was one thing wanting to be like other women in her age group, who knew how to handle guys like Franc; it was a different proposition entirely, putting it into practice.

  To her relief, he simply said, “No sweat, I can fix that for you. There’s something I’ll need from the drawer soon anyway.” He moved away, smoothly extracting a foil packet that he held between his teeth as he swamped the room in darkness. Her heart did a little kerplonk in her chest as she heard the foil rip.

  Life as Maria Costello knew it had suddenly become dead serious.

  His hand slid under the silver-gray pillow he’d earlier fanned her hair over, running through the strands with his long fingers. She’d loved the feel of them in her hair, loved knowing her libido was more sensuous than she’d given herself credit for.

  With the bedroom in almost total darkness, it took Franc’s vision a few moments to adjust. He hadn’t drawn the curtains across the large windows, had no need to with his fourth-floor apartment being well above the roofs of his neighbors, but soon became aware of the pale glow of the street lamps meltto the room. They were aided by the lights from Chelsea Sugar Works that lit up the sky to the north of his apartment, and shimmered gold on the waves of the bay from dusk to dawn.

  Now was as good a time as any to get rid of his shorts. The soft breeze from the air conditioner brushed over his hot tight flesh, but instead of cooling him down, the weight of his arousal grew. He twisted round on the edge of the bed. He could just make out the black silk of Maria’s hair against the pillow, but his ears hadn’t picked up the scrape of lace moving against her skin. “Sit up for me, hon.”

  “Sit up?”

  “Yeah, since the dead of night is taking care of your modesty, we might as well remove the little lace number.” He felt the mattress give as she pushed up, then he reached for her. “Let me give you a hand. That’s it, easy does it. I’ve got the hem,” he said then. “Darn thing’s snagged in your hair.”

  “You weren’t calling it a darn thing when you kissed it all over,” she whispered as she took over and untangled the lingerie. He heard the chemise land somewhere on the bedcover, soft as a butterfly.

  “What if I did? It wasn’t because I have a fetish for lace. No way, lady, it was knowing you were inside it.”

  His forearm brushed against her breast as she started to lie back down. He stopped her with, “No, stay. Come here, come closer to me. That’s it, let me feel your breasts against my chest with nothing separating them.”

  No sooner said, and she knew she wanted it too. Wanted him to feather the soft hair on his pecs across nipples that had beaded into tight whorls as soon as he’d suggested the idea.

  The sensation was more than she’d anticipated, more than she’d hoped for. Her basic knowledge of what happened under the sheets when two people wanted each other the way she and Franc did, with both mind and body, took a leap in the dark.

  Her breath escaped through a pouted, “Oh.”

  She wanted this man with every fiber of her being. Dangerous knowledge when he’d only promised her a matter of days.

  Her head whirled from a combination of male musk mixed with spicy aftershave. That, and the delightful dance his hands did on her back, round and round, mesmerizing, hypnotizing.

  Daring, she leaned closer and licked the skin below the jut of his collarbone. Intrigued by the taste, she tried again, lower this time, her hand fighting to squeeze between two hot bodies melding into one. She moaned her delight as the tip of her finger found the flat round penny of a male nipple. It was no smoother than hers. She swallowed down the excitement of her latest discovery. “I didn’t know this happened to men, too.”

  Leaning back to give her space, Franc shifted his hold from her long smooth back to her breasts. Had it only been two nights since he’d first held their weight in his hands? It felt as if he’d known the shape of her forever. “So now that you know, what are you going to do about it?”

  Figuring a little demonstration wouldn’t go amiss to get him what he wanted, what he craved, he circled the tight beads puckering her breasts with both thumbs. Gently, carefully, he cherished them with his hands then sced the beaded skin with the tips of his thumbnails.

  She learned quickly.

  As she followed his lead, practicing newfound skills on him, Maria’s groans of pleasure were too potent to resist. Lowering his mouth, he swallowed the surprised gasps whole, took her breath inside him, made it his again and again, until his head buzzed with carbon dioxide overload.

  Maria’s head had just begun to cease spinning, when her education moved on to a whole new level. “Just so you know,” he said, “I’ll let you in on everything that’s going to happen. That way, you won’t be scared or shocked.”

  Some of the things she’d done that night had shocked her silly. Had she really suggested Franc carry on where he’d left off at the restaurant?

  Franc’s voice rippled across her nerve endings. “All you have to keep in mind is what we’re doing is normal.”

  Maria smiled, knowing he couldn’t see her for he was kneeling close to the bottom of the bed with one of her feet in his hands, her heel balanced about waist level. His waist.

  Her other foot lay close to his hip, and as the pressure of his fingers made her squirm with ecstasy, half pleasure, half pain, she rubbed the edge of her sole over the slim ridge of his hipbone.

  Straightening her knee, he stroked her calf and lifted her foot higher. “This is where we find out which little piggy went
to market.”

  A convulsive shudder wracked her spine, and if it wasn’t the words themselves that played on her libido, then it was the rough timbre of his voice, like champagne fizzing over ice. She felt the heat of his breath, of his mouth as he nuzzled her instep. Air hissed between her lips as she tried not to shout out loud. But it was impossible to hold back the sound when his tongue flicked across the crease under her big toe.

  And when he drew it into his mouth. Help!

  When she’d suggested they continue where they’d left off at the restaurant, she’d only been teasing, trying to act sophisticated, as if it would be fun. She hadn’t known he’d take the idea this far or how much she’d enjoy it.

  Her body was as lax as a teddy bear that had been washed and hung out to dry, and her toes still tingled, when he casually slipped in a remark. “It’s all downhill from here, hon, the back of your knee, your thigh, so don’t get uptight about it. Just lie there and think of the pleasure it’s going to bring you.”

  His outline shimmered where the golden glow from outside slid over his skin the way she wanted to. A telling glimmer of white teeth cut through the darkness, as with a twist of his shoulders he settled lower, his hair brushing her thigh.

  Her bones had turned to water, sinking her deeper and deeper into the mattress until she was sure she’d never be able to move from that spot. The feeling lasted just as long as it took to nip the soft skin between his teeth. “Ouch! You nipped me.”

  “Just making sure you’re still awake.” Franc soothed the small hurt with his tongue. “Wouldn’t want you to get too comfortable and miss outgood part.”

  “Promises, promises, tell me when we get there.”

  “We’re there,” he replied.

  “Where?” she asked as his finger cut a path through the crisp curls between her thighs.

  “Virgin territory and I’m getting the first taste.”

  Maria had no words to describe what was happening. Nothing in the romances she’d read had prepared her for the heat of his mouth, the flicker of his tongue. Her whole body radiated with fire. And Franc was at the core of the conflagration, fueling it with the most intimate of caresses.

  No longer the relaxed puddle of flesh and bone he’d created, she was driven higher and higher by his mastery of her senses until she dug her fingers through his hair, gripping his scalp as if it was the only thing anchoring her to the bed.

  Not for long. Every muscle tensed as if fear of the unknown held her back, as if nothing would ever be the same if she let go.

  Even as she shattered, she knew she was right. Her life had just changed in some indefinable way. But as she floated somewhere around ceiling height, she forgot that Franc wasn’t hers for keeps. That she only had him for another few days.

  “No, this is the good part. I wouldn’t lie to you, so just be patient.” Franc wished he could see the look on her face. Sure, he’d brought her to climax, but he didn’t want to make her skittish again by turning on the light. Instead, he slowly sheathed himself and nudged her damp folds with the blunt head of his erection, waiting, giving her a few moments to adjust.

  Kissing her breasts, he smoothed his palms lightly up and down her arms, setting up a rhythm with both hands and mouth until Maria’s hips began to rise in time with his caresses.

  Within moments of feeling the tension between her legs build, he sucked one of her dark nipples deep into his mouth while he pressed a short distance inside her. Maria moaned out loud.

  She was so tight he didn’t know if he’d be able to hold off, but tonight would set the tone for the other nights to come and he didn’t want anything to spoil what at the back of his mind he’d named the season of Maria, a summer break to remember.

  He slid his hands down and gripped her hips as he established himself an inch farther inside. Distracting her by sliding his mouth higher, he sought out new flavors: her shoulder, the sweet hollow between her collarbone and the base of her throat, the tender skin beneath her jaw.

  Then he took her mouth.

  It flowered under his, opening like the roses among the vines just for him, her hips rising, writhing in supplication. But he didn’t make his final move until her mouth followed his every time he had to lift his head. Searching, demanding, her teeth, tongue and lips impatient, frantic for more, far too involved for her to worry about what else was happening. That’s when he pressed home in one smooth surge of his thigh muscles.

  This was as new to him as it was to Maria. The urge to draw back and thrust again was fierce. It prowled the back of his mind like a tiger that needed caging, needed whippinsubmission.

  He turned his thoughts outward, to Maria, to her needs. Slipping his hands under her shoulders, he felt her curves fit against the hard angles of his body as he surrounded her with his warmth, cupping her nape in one palm to massage the back of her head. “How do you feel?”

  “Weird. Full, but ple-e-ase, don’t stop what you’re doing to my scalp. I can take more of that.” Her hand pursued a tentative exploration of his jaw, becoming bolder, she traced his mouth with a fingertip. Franc wasn’t sure if she was aware of the understated movements inside her, tightening and releasing, holding and letting go, until he wanted to yell uncle and give in to the subtle persuasion before he was certain she was ready for the next step.

  “Is that all there is?”

  A bark of laughter shook him, rippling from him into her.

  “I don’t know what’s so funny, but do it again,” she murmured, her breath brushing his lips.

  “Good grief, I think I’ve created a monster, a precocious monster, but don’t let anyone say Franc Jellic doesn’t give satisfaction.” He drew back, slowly, carefully, until he was barely inside her.

  Next moment her legs and arms locked him in a desperate embrace. “No, stop!”

  He flexed his hips and thrust. “Stop this?” He eased back and repeated the action.

  “No. I can take plenty of that.” Her voice sounded deep, throaty, as if it hurt to drag the words out.

  She tightened around the next thrust, and he almost lost it. Without volition, his thrusts deepened, sped up, and her hips rose up to meet them. Need and want and hunger turned them into one desperate mass of hands, teeth and tongue, the slap of skin against skin punctuated by gasps and groans as they used their bodies to egg each other on, making their hearts pump faster and blood race like a bushfire through their veins.

  The first ripples of her sheath tightening around his thrusting male flesh were like an invitation to Olympus where his goddess lived. He just wanted to be sure she was there to greet him when he came pounding on her gate.

  And she was. And it was everything he’d known it would be and more as she gathered him in her soft arms and welcomed the burst of his heat deep inside her.

  For the first time in his life Franc understood the full meaning of sated. But in his relaxed contentment he realized the damp on his face wasn’t sweat. Instead, Maria’s tears flowed freely, dampening his shoulder. “Hell, don’t tell me I hurt you, I tried to be careful.”

  “Shush, it’s okay, they’re happy tears. I never knew anything could be so beautiful.”

  He felt almost embarrassed; his arm trembled as he lifted his weight off her. “That’s a relief! I wouldn’t hurt you for the world, you know that, don’t you?” He cupped her face with one hand, swiping at her tears with his thumb. Deep in his chest it hurt when he breathed. “It frightens me that I could make you cry. That anyone might make you cry.”

  His fist clenched. This wasn’t the moment to mention Randy’s name, to bring up the pain the guy hacaused Maria, but Randy’s imprint on Maria’s bed had burrowed itself in his memory like a canker he wanted to pluck out.

  “I’m okay now. It was emotional overload. I shouldn’t have waited so long to discover the delights of the flesh.”

  He could tell she was teasing him, could feel the shape of her smile against his cheek, but he took no pleasure in the thought of Maria being inducted into�
��as she put it—the delights of the flesh by someone else. He rolled over with her in his arms until she rested on him instead of taking his weight. “I’m glad you waited for me.”

  “So am I. I couldn’t have had a better teacher, but I don’t know if you realized that after a while, you stopped explaining what was going to happen next.”

  He bussed her chin with his lips. He’d have to watch what he promised Maria. She was the kind of woman who would keep him to his word. “How could I explain what we just experienced? I’m an engineer not a poet.”

  “That’s okay, I was joking, and trying to make you bite. You rose to the bait beautifully. But just think, we get to do it all over again tomorrow night.” She wiggled against him as if anticipating the next time they made love.

  Boy, did he have a lot to teach Maria. And it was going to be his pleasure. He could feel himself harden, and the way the cushioned softness of her belly accommodated the pressure.

  Smiling to himself, Franc asked her, “Who says we have to wait until tomorrow. It’s not one of my rules.”

  Her chest lifted against him in a deep sigh. “Not one of mine, either.” Maria tried to close her mind to tomorrow as he began to love her again.

  Tomorrow meant going back to Tech-Re-Search, being in the offices alone with the knowledge that outside them Randy Searle might be waiting.

  He’d upped the stakes when he’d entered her room, despoiled her possessions. But then, he’d done her the favor of having her transferred bodily to Franc’s fourth-floor apartment. Unless he was a mountain climber, he wouldn’t be sneaking into this part of her life anytime soon.

  “Hon, somehow I don’t think I have all your attention.”

  “Don’t worry, Franc, that’s one part of my life I can soon remedy.” She groaned as he pulled her closer, and gave herself up to the caress of his palms and the heaven of his lips.

  Life wasn’t all bad.

  Tomorrow would have to take care of itself.