by Mimi Riser
Dave chuckled. “Just joking. But he is the club's cleaning man. And I pay him top wages for it—double what he'd get anywhere else. I've never understood why the dirtiest jobs fall at the low end of the pay scale. If someone's willing to do that kind of work they deserve extra compensation—kinda like combat pay."
Tina turned in his arms to hug him. “You're such a nice guy."
"Yeah, but don't spread it around. It would spoil my image."
"Ha-ha.” She rested her head on his shoulder. “Tom's lucky, though. Not every man with your history would have treated him so well. You know what this reminds me of? A quote by that wealthy inventor, Gerry Bates. It goes something like: ‘Always be kind to nerds, because you'll probably end up working for one.’”
"Excuse me? You think I'm a nerd?” He tried to sound offended, but it was tough with a growing boner in his drawers. “I'm not a nerd now. I'm sexy."
"Hey, sweetie, if you can do calculus and trig standing on your head, so to speak, you're a nerd. But, just for the record, I thought you were sexy even when you looked like a nerd."
Yeah, she had, apparently, and Dave still found it difficult to believe.
"I wish I'd known that then.” So many years they'd wasted. He sighed.
Tina's exhale echoed his. “I wish you had, too, you dickhead. But there's no use crying over spilled milk, as my mom always says. We're together now, right? ‘Today is the first day of the rest of our lives'—and all that crap."
"Very wisely put. Except for one thing. I think I'd appreciate it if you'd stop calling me ‘dickhead’ from now on. That sort of thing can become a bit grating on the nerves after a while."
"Hmm ... well, Dave Hammer, I could call you DH, instead. That way you could pretend I was calling you by your initials. But I'd know what I really meant."
She gave an evil laugh.
He swatted her on the fanny.
"Ow! Listen, DH, I hate to tell you this, but I am a bit tender from that phony flogging. Even soft material does some damage if you whack it repeatedly against the same spot. That's kinda how the Chinese water torture works."
Tina shoved out of the hug and stood pouting while she rubbed her rear.
A tempting sight. That pout was way cute. And watching her touch her ass was a definite turn-on, too. Dave couldn't resist wrapping an arm around her waist and placing his hand over hers.
"I'm very sorry,” he said, and he meant it, even if he was getting harder by the moment. One could feel contrite and horny at the same time, he was discovering. He drew her close to his side and whispered in her ear. “And as my penance, I'm going to kiss and lick every inch of your ass until it's all better. How's that sound?"
She shivered in his hold and gave a husky groan.
Good enough.
"I'll assume that means you think it sounds okay.” And I can't wait to get started.
He led her toward the entrance of the stone building. The town library, where their romance had begun. Some of the happiest and worst hours of his early manhood had been spent within those old walls. Happy, because he'd spent them with the girl he loved, and miserable because he'd been too ... too...
Ah, shit, because he'd been too much of a dickhead to tell her how he felt. Emotions really were a royal pain in the nuts, weren't they?
He'd never considered himself the nostalgic sort, but he wanted to stroll down memory lane today—only with a few interesting detours along the way. First, he wanted to propose to her here. Then he planned to boink her among the books, as his young self had once fantasized, to seal their engagement. Thus, upon the broken dreams of yesterday would be built their hope for a brighter, truer, stronger tomorrow.
A noble sentiment, right? Uplifting and grand. Hell, it was almost holy.
Also kinky as all get out.
Of the many wild and varied sexual activities he'd participated in, he'd never done the deed in such a public spot before. The idea thrilled him to the core. Especially because it was the incomparable Tina Molina with whom he'd be doing it. That was the best part, of course.
Boy, did he have some surprises in store for her.
She paused in mid-step and gazed at the white columns as though it had only just struck her where they were.
"Dave, why are we going to the library?"
"Because I need to look up something."
"What?"
"Your skirt."
* * * *
I've entered the Twilight Zone.
A chill ran on icy feet down Tina's spine as Dave ushered her into the echoing, tomblike quiet of the large library. God, this was spooky. The figure seated in a leather chair behind the mile-wide mahogany desk near the entrance was...
Theodora Sparrow.
The same librarian who'd sat there the last time Tina visited these hallowed halls—two goddamned decades ago. Even spookier, the woman looked exactly the same. Stout figure, iron-gray hair pulled back in a tight bun, wire-rimmed spectacles pushed low on her narrow beak of a nose. She even seemed to be wearing the same sedate, navy-blue dress with the row of tiny jet buttons down the front, the ivory lace collar and cuffs, and the antique cameo broach at her throat.
Tina stifled a gasp and clutched at Dave.
"My God,” she whispered. One always whispered in this library, and not even a twenty-year absence from the place could break the habit.
"What's the matter? It's just Miss Sparrow. You remember her, don't you?"
Dave whispered, too, the both of them instantly falling into old patterns. Which only added to the surrealistic atmosphere.
"Of course I remember her. I just didn't expect her to still be alive. I thought for a minute they'd had her stuffed and set up there as some kind of exhibit."
Dave doubled over with laughter.
Theodora put a finger to her lips. “Shhhhh! One more outburst like that from you, David Hammer, and I'll have you banned from here for the rest of the summer."
Good lord, she even acted and sounded the same.
Tina's knees wobbled.
"Wait a moment. Who is that with you?” The librarian leaned forward, peering over the top of her spectacles. “Christina?” A sudden smile lit her face. “Why, so it is. Little Christina Molina. Back in town for your class reunion, are you?"
"Um...” Tina glanced at Dave.
He dropped an arm about her shoulders and returned Theodora's smile. “Actually, Miss Sparrow, it's more of a personal reunion. Tina and I are going to be married. I just popped the question."
"You did?” Tina's glance turned to a glare. “When?"
"Right now. How ‘bout it?” His gaze bore into hers, nailing her to the floor. Such piercing blue passion, cutting her open, drilling straight into her heart...
"Will you marry me, Tina? Please?"
Oh, God...
Her mouth dropped open, but not a sound came out of her.
Marriage? Me?
With a crack like thunder, Theodora slapped her hands, palms down, on her desk—no doubt the loudest noise that library had ever heard. It was a wonder the building didn't cave in from surprise. “Well, it's about bloody time! I always thought you two were perfect for each other. I expected you to tie the knot right after high school. Why didn't you?"
"Because I was a dickhead,” Dave said.
"You're telling me,” the woman replied with a chuckle. She sank back in her chair, pushed her spectacles up on top of her head, and plucked a linen handkerchief out of her left lace cuff. Loudly, she blew her nose. Honk, honk. Then she dabbed her eyes. “Oh, my ... you'll have to excuse me. I always cry at weddings, and engagements are almost as good."
Tina finally found her voice. “But, Miss Sparrow, I ... I haven't said ‘yes’ yet.” And wasn't about to, either.
"Oh, don't be a fool, girl. Marry him! Do you want to end up like me?” Theodora waved her handkerchief in the air, like a flag. “Some men only propose once, you know. If you hesitate, they'll not ask again.” A faraway gaze came over her. “Such is my story. When I played coy wi
th my lover, he went away to ... to...” She threw up her arms in despair. “To Pittsburgh! He said he'd return, but he never did. And now ... now all I have are my memories, and a hole in my heart, and...” Tears streamed down her cheeks. “And this fucking place! I hate being a librarian, damn it. I want passion! Adventure!” She tore at her hair. “I want hot, stinky, cream-my-pants nookie!"
While Tina and Dave stared, she collapsed forward onto her desk and sobbed hysterically.
"I always thought there was more to her than met the eye,” Dave muttered.
Behind them, the big front door banged open and shut.
Banged. More noise. In the once ever-silent library. Had the whole town gone nuts?
Or is it only me who's lost my mind? Tina wondered. Her head whirled with Dave's proposal while Theodora's loud distress throbbed in her ears. And such a short time before, she'd have thought both things impossible.
Now, I don't know what the hell to think.
Past them strode a small, gray-bearded man in a pinstripe suit, wingtip shoes, and a Panama hat. His voice boomed out. “Theodora!"
The wailing woman's head snapped up.
"Shhhh!” she hushed him, out of conditioning.
Then she stopped ... gasped...
Her eyes went wide. Her face went pale.
Her lips quivered. “Philo? Philo T. Thrushbottom?” She clutched her bosom. “Is it really you, Philo, my long lost love?"
Her love? Tina blinked. Philo was half Theodora's size.
He spread his legs in a straddle stance, puffed out his chest and planted his fists on his hips, like a conquering warrior, home from battle. “'Tis I, oh Dora my dearest dove! Did I not promise I'd return someday?"
"Yes, yes.” Theodora wrung her hands. “But you waited so long, Philo. It's been years ... decades ... I'd all but given up hope.” She fluttered her lashes at him.
"Yeah, well, I ... ahem...” He coughed. “I got caught in traffic."
You what? Tina suppressed the urge to rabbit-punch him for leaving in the first place. She'd always had a soft spot for Miss Sparrow. Why, she had no idea.
"Liar, liar, pants on fire.” Slowly, like a lioness on the prowl, Theodora swept her spectacles off her crown and lifted her bulk from the chair. Eyes gleaming, she pulled out her hairpins, one by one, then shook her head till thick, gray locks hung in loose waves about her shoulders. Her bosom heaved with hot, panting breaths.
"Grrr...” A guttural growl rumbled out of Philo. “You're an evil temptress, Theodora Sparrow.” He flung aside his hat. Jacket and tie followed. “Take heed, woman. A man can be taunted only so far, ere he snaps."
"Snap, schmap. You owe me fifty years worth of orgasms, you dirty little bastard. And I intend to collect every last goddamned one of them.” With a fast, frenzied rip, she tore open her dress down the front, sending tiny jet buttons whizzing in all directions. “Fuck me, Philo! Here! Now! Fuck me hard, you sizzling sex-puppy, you!"
She threw out her arms, and Philo dove into them.
Crash! The two tumbled down behind her desk. The leather chair tipped over—thud—and skidded across the floor. Clothing sailed forth and high into the air. Shoes, support hose (his and hers), trousers, shirt, and a pair of checkered boxer shorts. The tattered remnants of the navy-blue dress and an industrial-strength panty-girdle and brassiere. Heavy grunts and groans poured out, mixed with bumping and thumping and juicy, moist sucking sounds. The desk rattled and shook like an earthquake raged beneath it.
"Holy shit.” Tina glanced from the desk to Dave.
He shrugged. “Talk about a reunion, huh?” His chest rose and fell with a small sigh, wry and resigned. “Well, I guess this blows the plans for getting a little ‘nookie’ here ourselves. I'm not sure I could concentrate properly with that racket going on."
Her gaze narrowed. “Any plans along those lines were yours, sweetie, not mine. I wouldn't have agreed to it, in any case. I don't do public places."
"I don't either, as a rule. Not this public, anyway. But this was a special occasion, so I wouldn't have given you a chance to refuse.” The grin turned devilish. “I can be very persuasive when I put my mind to it."
"So I've noticed.” And it was one of the things that disturbed her regarding his proposal. Yes, she loved him, but she loved her independence, too. She'd worked hard for it—had to, being the youngest in her family. A lover was one thing, but a husband? Marriage gave a man too much control. Just look what it had done to her mom.
Yikes. She jumped when a bellow like a bull moose in rutting season punctuated an extra loud bumpity-bump.
Dave chewed his lower lip and stared at the desk, which rocked and rumbled several paces in front of them. “Voyeurism isn't really my thing, but maybe I'd better check on ‘em. That's a lot of noise for only two people."
"Hell, it's a lot of noise for twelve people.” Tina watched while he walked forward, leaned over the broad mahogany top, and peeked behind it.
"Wow...” A low whistle blew out of him. “Oh, sorry to interrupt you, Mister ... ah, Thrushbottom, is it?'
"Philo T. Whaddya want, boy?"
"Nothing, sir. Ahem...” He cleared his throat. “Just wanted to make sure you folks were all right. Everything okay down there?"
"Peachy keen. Take a good gander while you're here, kid. Maybe you'll learn something."
"Um ... thank you, sir. I already have.” A glazed look in his eyes, Dave returned to Tina's side. “Man, and I thought I'd seen it all.” He shook his head. “You would not believe the wang on that guy—"
"Oooh, yes, yesss!” Theodora screamed. “Harder—faster—more, more! Impale me on your huge lance, my fierce knight! Consume me in the flames of your passion! Screw my lights out, Philo! Aaaaaaah..."
"Okay, that's it. I'm outta here.” Throwing up her hands, Tina exited via the same route through which she'd entered.
Dave caught up with her at the side of the Bentley. “You all right?"
"Peachy keen.” She yanked open the passenger door before he could do it for her, slid in and buckled her seatbelt. “I should go back to the high school and see how Angel's doing. She must be wondering what's happened to me.” So am I.
"Okay, if that's what you want.” Without another word, he swung around the car, climbed behind the wheel, and, as the school was close—and Dave liked to speed—a few minutes later, they were skidding into the back end of the now quiet parking lot.
The reunioners must all be inside, reunioning ... or whatever the hell you called it, Tina thought.
She and Dave sat quiet and still as well after unfastening their seatbelts. Neither of them had spoken on the way here. Neither made a move to get out once he'd screeched to a stop at the rear of the building. It took a few moments for the dust to clear. The man drove like a maniac, didn't he? That's what he got for allowing her middle brother, Mario, to teach him. Mario had taught her, also, naturally, so she was in no position to complain. Tina drove like a maniac, too. Old training dies hard.
Except, there had been a bit more than training in Dave's I-dare-you-to-give-me-a-ticket dash here. He was pissed; she sensed it. Probably because he had to abandon his plans for “studying” with me at the library.
Or was it because she hadn't answered his proposal yet?
Tina stared through the windshield, seeing nothing, wondering what she'd say, how she'd explain her feelings when he asked her again, wondering if he'd ask again. What if Miss Sparrow was right and she'd lost him by hesitating? How did you assure a man you loved him even though you were unwilling to wed him?
I've never had to deal with this problem before.
She'd always broken off a relationship if the guy showed signs of getting too serious. Always the guy, of course. Tina Molina was just in it for the laughs and the sex. She didn't do “serious.” Maybe that's why her stomach was tied in knots now. She had spent so long guarding her independence, she was afraid to fully give herself to anyone—not even the man to whom she'd always belonged. How fucking ironic
was that?
Beside her, Dave breathed a small sigh and shifted in his seat to pull something out of his pants’ right pocket.
"My cell. Incoming call.” He sounded less than thrilled. “I had it set on vibrate."
Big news, since she hadn't heard it buzz. “Thanks for explaining that. Otherwise I might have thought I'd gone deaf."
He rolled his eyes, flipped open the cell, and frowned when he saw the caller ID. “Hello?” The frown curved into a smile. “Yep, this is Dave. Very well, thank you. It's great to hear your voice, too. Been years, hasn't it? Way too long a time. How've you been, Mrs. Molina?"
Tina groaned.
Oh, shit. My mother. And I didn't tell her I'd be here for the reunion.
If she had, Mom would have spent a week cooking and cleaning—all for a couple hours worth of visiting, at most—and the woman had worked hard enough in her life already. I hate it when she knocks herself out like that.
Besides, Tina never visited her parents at the old homestead. They'd bought a condo in Florida shortly after the last of their kids—her—had left the nest. These days they were here only in the summer. The rest of the year they lived in Daytona. She visited them there.
She waved panicked hands in Dave's face.
No, no, no! She mouthed the words. Don't tell her I'm here. Don't—
Dave beamed her a grin and winked. “Yeah, she's sitting beside me right now."
"Shit.” Tina slumped down in her seat. Mom would be hurt and pissed that her only daughter hadn't “wanted to see me,” as she'd put it.
I have to talk to her—immediately. ‘Fess up and apologize, it was the only way.
She gave Dave an evil glare—I'll kill you—and made a grab for the cell.
He switched the phone to his left hand, strong-armed her against the passenger door with his right, and held her there while she struggled like a rabid wildcat. “As a matter of fact, she's trying to rip my arm to shreds because I won't give her the phone. What? Okay, I'll tell her. Thanks."
His grin broadened. “You're mother says she called to speak with me, not you—that you're in enough trouble already, and if you're smart, you'll simmer down and behave yourself. Otherwise, she'll give me permission to spank you."
