by Susan Arden
Brushing aside her hair, she spotted her lingerie. Rising, she glanced over her shoulder, all but falling backwards. Stephen sat in bed, calmly watching her. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever encountered. Truly. You haven’t said yes to my offer.”
“Thanks. Not so bad yourself, McLemore. You’re more than sexy. And yes. Just tell me when.”
The clatter of her heart resounded in her ears. Even after they’d sexed their way through the last eight or so hours, each moment with him more than made up for the last twenty-two years of chastity. If only she could tamp down her over-the-top reaction to him. He might cast a heated look, absentmindedly rub his hand over his jaw, drop his lids to a half-mast predator gaze, or take hold of her. To say he thrilled and excited her only described the tip of the nubile feelings swimming inside her. Each one a gift he inspired, crafted, and made manifest.
Stephen McLemore. An expert spinner of illusions. Rancher turned incubus, except they’d both been awake the whole night. Reaching for her panties, she sighed, wondering when they’d see each other again. Jeez. She might as well keel over on the spot, if she dreamt of this lasting more than a day or two, or three.
They both began to speak at once, and then laughed in stereo.
He squeezed her by the wrist. “You go first, please.”
He’d pulled on a pair of jeans sans underwear, standing in front of her. Shirtless, tanned skin, with traces of oil never looked as good, or as inviting. His hair was utter fascination, and she fought the quiver of remembrance: of the texture within her hands as she’d pulled, really yanked; of the things his skillful mouth had demanded. One night, and he’d rocked her world into another realm.
Silently, he waited for her to speak. In a second she’d crash-land in front of him. “Sorry. About tonight. The fair. Did you still want to go?”
“Absolutely. You said some of your students would be there…performing?”
Dance…performance, and the memory of the call she’d received from Hollywood. “Yes. We don’t have to stay for a long time. They go on at eight. Inside the tent.” She’d finished slipping on her dress, and his breath whispered up her neck. “Let me help you, considering I was responsible for disrobing you. Seems only right, what comes off should be carefully restored to its original state. The clothing, not the woman.”
“I don’t want to ever go back there.” She half-laughed. “Besides, I don’t think I could, even if I wanted to, after last night.”
“Then it’s settled, we’ll enjoy what we’ve got. Namely, your body underneath me. Honey, if you’re game, I can show you much more. God, I want to, starting now. I don’t think I can be within a ten-mile radius of you without getting hard.” He pulled her hand down to his jeans, scraping his teeth along her jaw.
Didn’t men get tired after a while? All night, and he was wired, ready to go. All night, and she was ready to stay. Except that’s not what he’d just said. Clearly, he was telling her something, and she needed to listen. Bodies. Physical. No strings there.
She planted a kiss on his lips, unwilling to be the one with a death grip on a new lover. Her fingers settled upon his muscular shoulders. Holding on to something that felt too good to let go meant trouble. She had to get a grip, for surely one day he’d go his way and she’d…
Shoot. Eventually, she’d be forced to find an alternate path to traverse as well. Wouldn’t she?
Inhaling, Gillian steadied herself under a set of purposeful hands that moved over her body, squeezing and kneading her waist, then her hips, and then slowly Stephen drew her up to him. Once more they were hip to hip, the heat from him sweltering. “I hope I can wait until this evening,” he said.
“Me, too,” she murmured. “I’d like to say goodbye to Chance. What a poor parent I’ve turned out to be.”
“Nonsense. There’s not much to raising a puppy. He’s safe, and you’ve saved his life. I’d say that means a lot, considering what would have become of him. You’ll see him again soon…unless you want to take him with you.” His face became still, as though he’d asked a whole range of unspoken questions.
She paused, thoughtfully considering before speaking. “I’d like to come back and see him. I don’t think he’d do well back at the apartment. I don’t trust some of those guys with something this young and helpless.”
“Now you know how I feel. You staying there. It’s not practical, and I’d like to speak with Haden, if you’d let me.”
Stephen did it again. Another step closer. She’d been in dances where each step closer meant another step apart. If she turned one hundred and eighty degrees, how terrible would she feel when she turned around again, and found him gone? She sucked in an unsteady breath, biding a moment to collect her thoughts.
“Let me see how he’s doing. For all we know, he might very well make good on his promise to cut back. Relax, and unwind. I know his upcoming tour requires him to begin practicing again. That usually settles him. I think he needs structure more than he’d care to admit.”
“Don’t we all,” Stephen murmured.
Outside, he walked her to her car. Stopping, he pulled her into a long, slow, deep kiss. He couldn’t sweep her as close as he’d like to, given Chance was in her arms, whining and wiggling. She rose up on her tiptoes, pressing into him as much as she could, wanting to absorb this moment. Her heart kicked up, faster and stronger, a staccato rhythm playing havoc with her ability to speak. This moment would never come again. The night after she’d given herself to him.
“Well, until tonight. Stephen, I’ve never known anyone like you. So powerful. I’m so glad it was you.”
“I couldn’t agree with you more. I’m glad it was me, too. More than you’ll ever know, Gillian-mine.” He raised her hand, turning her wrist. She watched him press his mouth to her palm, filling her. “I’ll pick you up at seven. Will that work?”
“Please.” She smiled, handing one whimpering puppy over to him.
The sight of Stephen cradling tiny Chance against his bare chest tore at the lump lodged within her throat. He opened her car door, holding out his hand to assist her. Her fingers must have felt frozen, yet he didn’t comment. She waved to him after backing out, and before she drove away. He moved Chance’s paw in a pretend wave, laughing and then dipping his head in the sexiest way possible.
Inside her car she gripped the steering wheel, opting to turn up the music and flipping from one station to another until she found a song that didn’t have her field of vision misting.
She’d have to stop at home to change. Nana didn’t really eat breakfast; more like schmoozed her way through the cafeteria, enjoying showing off Gillian as her special guest and grandbaby. Her grandfather shadowed her, allowing Nana shine-time. She’d been there when other residents had guests and it was a regular senior show-n-tell; one that they’d all enjoyed. Unless there was sad news about a resident passing. Those were the only moments that made her stomach twist uncomfortably.
Pulling up to the duplex, Gillian gritted her teeth. There wasn’t a single solitary parking space. The whole lawn was filled with cars, not to mention down the block. Barbed wire wrapped around her ribcage couldn’t have felt more constricting. She parked at the corner, and high-tailed her way down the sidewalk. As she neared the duplex, the sound of loud rock rumbling from her home assaulted her.
The front door was unlocked, and she squeezed the door handle, slowly opening the door. Acrid, smoke-scented air billowed out from the living room. The blare of music hit her equally hard. But it was the sight of her home, filled with people she didn’t recognize, that floored her. A few noncommittal grunts and ‘heys,’ and then she heard her name drift from the kitchen.
She shrank from the stench of body odor, and she understood this wasn’t just cigarette smoke inside the house. Picking her way to the kitchen, she noticed the extreme number of liquor bottles on the counters, an overflowing garbage can, and a haze-layered, smoke-filled room.
Haden got up from the table, arms spread wide
. “Gillian, welcome home. Where in the hell have you been all night?” He laughed, and then coughed.
She didn’t see anyone outright smoking, only spotted a pipe and lighter that a guy palmed the second she shifted her eyes to the table.
Haden looked like crap. Worse than crap. And within his embrace, she held her breath against the smell of his clothes, reeking of what she’d only believed possible in her nightmares.
Gillian pushed off him. “This is it. Get these people out of here. Now.”
“Sis. Don’t get uptight. They’re cool. We’re only partying ‘cause it’s my last night before cracking the whip. I told you that.”
She lowered her voice. Barely. “You promised me you’d stop doing this.”
He returned a cocky grin, tweaking her nose. “I told you I’d slow down. Considering what I didn’t do last night, I’d say I kept my word.”
“Either you get these people to leave. Now. Or I’ll call the police. This is my home, too, and you’ve no right. Five minutes. I swear, Haden. Don’t make me do something you’ll regret. I trusted you and look what you’ve done.” Tears stung her filling eyes, and she’d be damned if she was going to stand there crying in front of these strangers. Blinking, she inhaled, pulling every ounce of self-control into play. She coldly stared back at her brother.
This was the only means she could ever use to make him understand that whatever was at stake meant enough to her that she intended to stand her ground.
“Five. Minutes. Haden.” She tensed her body, lifted her chin, and clenched her jaw. “The clock starts now.”
“All right, the party’s over,” he announced, glancing over his shoulder at her. He dropped his gaze, nodding, and she hoped to God he’d do the right thing.
Once she threatened to call the cops, she’d have to do just that or he’d never listen to her again. She turned, moving between intoxicated people, and opened her bedroom door to find people camped out inside. One of the women wore part of a student’s costume, a set of streaming flowers turned into a scarf, wrapped around her neck.
“I think you all heard the announcement. Party’s over.” Gillian stood with her feet planted, her arms akimbo, and she could feel her eyes widen, taking in the fact that there were bottles and pizza boxes on her bedroom floor.
“Sure thing, babe. You’re Haden’s sister aren’t you?”
“Yes. And I need to have use of my room. Excuse me.” She stepped in front of her door. “I’ll take the scarf.”
At the doorway to her room, she could hear the scraping of furniture, the mumbling of voices, and the general movement of people exiting her apartment. Thank God.
At least one of them picked up their mess and left her in peace. She closed her bedroom door, scanning the room, unable to tell if anything was missing. She didn’t own much, and didn’t leave her jewelry out in the open. The fact that she hid her valuables…well, that piece of information she’d not shared with Stephen. If she had, she might as well admit that this whole scene had her living with a stress level somewhere up in the stratosphere.
Trust people she didn’t know…people who drank to intoxication, people who didn’t seem to have anywhere to go during rush hour…Shit!
Were these people that different from the man she’d spent the night with? A resounding yes! rocked her. Weren’t they?
She’d not seen Stephen drink, not even the night he’d crashed here. But she’d smelled the evidence on him the following morning, and had heard rumors. Only, this wasn’t about Stephen at this awful moment. It was about Haden and her. She couldn’t shift attention, trying to overlook the elephant in the room—her brother, his habits, and her enabling him with a blind eye.
She picked up her phone, pressing speed dial number 1. “Hello?”
“Nana, I’m going to be a little late this morning.”
“Everything okay?”
“Oh, yes. Just need to take care of a couple of things, then I’ll be on my way.”
“You don’t sound too good. What’s got you down?”
“Nana, just some business issue that I need to take care of before I forget. Go ahead and eat without me. I don’t want you to wait.”
“Hush. I’m fine. Don’t rush. Just get here in one piece. What about Haden? Is he coming today?”
“Oh, I don’t think so. He’s getting ready for touring again. You know how busy his band keeps him.” Her jaw tightened, and she gripped the phone in her fingers. The back of her neck burned all the way up into her scalp. Haden’s dysfunctional life had her bending the truth into pretzels. Either she did something about it now, or there’d be hell to pay later when she couldn’t pretend or sweep things under the rug. Stephen had nailed it. Things needed to change. All she needed to do was remain calm and not falter. Later, she’d come up with a plan to get Haden the help he needed. Nana wouldn’t have to worry that her grandson was an…addict.
That was the truth. No matter how hard she’d wanted to avoid dealing with her brother’s problems, she had to if she wanted to help him. Haden was an addict and needed help. The constriction around her chest tightened. She slumped, moving toward her bed, and sat on the edge. Staring into a Styrofoam cup filled with a brown liquid and floating cigarette butts, she gritted her teeth and closed her eyes.
“We understand. You all are young and have so many plans.”
“So I should be able to make it there by nine. Sound good to you?”
“Yes, baby doll. I’ve some things to show you. You’ll be proud of my new dance steps.”
Her lids flew open. “Oh Nana, I forgot to tell you, thank you! That Hollywood director called. They liked the video you sent.”
Her Nana’s delighted laughter filled her ear. How would she be able to travel to Hollywood and leave Haden here alone?
Nana chuckled. “I’m not surprised they loved you. You’ve got talent. Star quality. You’ll tell me all about it when you come. I’ll leave you to deal with your issue. Hugs, sweetheart.”
“I love you. See you soon.” She turned off her phone, tucking it into her pocket, and rose to pick up the disgusting cup from her nightstand.
She noticed the set of handcuffs and pink ribbon and key. Those weren’t hers, but in a flash she remembered that Stephen had worn one when he’d crashed here. For an instant it was as though the weight of the world tumbled down upon her shoulders. She’d surrounded herself with wild and crazy men. Now that a storm had unleashed within her life, she’d be a fool to stand there complaining that it was hailing.
Was she blind to Stephen’s faults, as she was to her brother’s? The shaky, edgy feeling from lack of sleep, combined with her anger, made her tremble. She rose again, walked to the door, and pulled it open. The house was quiet, save the sound of engines grinding from outside.
Voices rose and fell, but those were outside as well. She crept down the hall, stopping at the living room entrance. No one was inside and she gazed over to the kitchen. The whole house was a wreck, but an empty wreck. She inhaled, not deeply, given there was still smoky, wasted air surrounding her. She turned around and walked toward Haden’s room.
Peering inside, she flipped on the light switch, but his room was just as empty. He’d left. Her heartbeat picked up. She’d not expected he’d leave as well. Holy hell.
She opened the front door and, sure enough, his car was gone. A few stragglers lingered on the street. A small group remained across the road, where two women leaned up against a car. They made eye contact with her, rolling their eyes before looking away. Outside the driver’s side, two men were attempting to insert a wire hanger through the top of the car window. She stepped back inside, pressing her fingers against the lock and twisting. Her mind raced, wondering what to do next. She brought out her cell and dialed Haden’s number. The call went directly to his greeting. Gillian wanted to hurl the phone across the room.
What could she do? This is what parents of wayward teens must go through. She set her phone down and pressed her fingers along the skin at her
temples, refusing to focus on the mess inside the apartment. Nothing compared with the mess inside her head. Taking hold of window handles, she opened window after window. Slowly, the breeze entered, stirring the air.
Calm down. She repeated those words, to no avail. Reaching her bedroom, she had to get ready. Staying here—what would that help? Haden wouldn’t return any time soon. That wasn’t his style. No, when they’d argued, he was never one to become upset. His style was similar to a tortoise: drawing himself in, until whatever issue abated or blew over, and then he’d reappear, smiling and clowning around. That more than likely was his problem. Not being able to diffuse, he opted to infuse. Alcohol, namely. She shook her head. That was before. But now there was no mistaking, he’d ventured into the realm of something smokable. Something he’d alerted his “buddies” to put away in her presence.
It wasn’t like she didn’t know about marijuana. She’d been at enough high school parties or in enough parking lots of clubs, and she knew the scent of a joint. It wasn’t her thing. Yet she’d never been in the presence of harder elements. She could barely bring herself to use the term: drugs. Haden was using. For how long, she didn’t know. A week, maybe.
All these worries clouded her brain. A dense fog took over. She didn’t want to crumple under the weight, with no one to turn to. Stephen. His name appeared on her lips without hesitation.
Inside her bathroom, she removed each article of clothing, reliving the way Stephen had undressed her. Throughout the morning, she’d put aside basking in the afterglow of her night with a man who had brought her to orgasm countless times. Her pulse skipped when removing her panties, and the soreness between her legs reminded her of everything they’d done.
Stephen had been correct, that she’d not want to contemplate specific details of Haden’s nightly parties. There was no escaping that her brother needed help.
