Soft Sounds of Pleasure

by Eden Connor

  If he was hurt by the way she kept him at arm's length sometimes, he could handle that, as long as she let him hold her when things got rough, he decided. Lila couldn't mourn Pete forever; a change would come.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Amy showed up Thursday at noon with a bag of sub sandwiches. "That's intimidating," she remarked, looking at the huge orange cabinet.

  Lila pulled off her gloves and led the way into the kitchen. "You think that's intimidating? Wait until you're trying to teach Algebra or Chemistry to a bunch of kids who just discovered the opposite sex. At least the breakfront doesn't have rampaging hormones and talk back."

  Amy poured two glasses of tea and carried them to the table. "So glad you brought up sex and rampaging hormones. How's the new boyfriend?"

  "Oh, God, Amy," Lila said with exasperation. "He's not my boyfriend. What was that term I heard you use? This is more like friends with benefits." She had been appalled when Amy had used the term to describe the relationship between another of Amy's girlfriends and a guy they both knew, but now she had a new appreciation for the possibilities it allowed. She wasn't dating, not really. They didn't go out to dinner alone, or to the movies. She went to some baseball games with them because she liked baseball, and they had great sex. He was struggling to get a handle on raising a teenager with little preparation. There'd been the one visit to his house, but spending one night in his bed didn't mean anything, right?

  Amy's eyes lit up. "I was afraid you might not get the concept of casual sex after such a long marriage. I approve of your attitude. Start talking."

  "Nothing to tell, it's just a regular hook-up," Lila protested. "No strings attached. You don't get any more 'deets'. What happened about that professor you were going to murder? Did he let you rewrite your paper?"

  * * * *

  Fifty-two minutes later, Amy scrambled to her feet. If she didn't hurry, she was going to be late for her next class. Before she left, she broached the subject of Lila's birthday. "So, if there's no chance you're going out with this guy next Friday, are we still on for dinner that night? I told Drew I was busy already." She knew she'd have to tell him again, but that day was off the table for her, had been for months.

  "It's a date," Lila assured her. "Colton doesn't even know when my birthday is. The last thing I want him to know is when I get another year older. I invited Lorie and Susan, one owns an antique shop and buys from me, and the other works for her. I'm not sure if they'll show. But you can bring Drew."

  There was no way Amy intended to remind Lila of her loss by showing up with Drew. It was her friend's first birthday with neither Pete nor Charlie. "No, Girls' Night it is. I was thinking Applebee's, or do you want to go to The Crab Corner?"

  "Crab Corner sounds great," Lila said eagerly. "Corona and crab legs can get a girl through a lot."

  "Is that silk?" Amy asked pointing to the orchid on the table. "It looks real."

  "Believe it or not, it is real," Lila assured her. "I can't believe it hasn't died yet. Somehow, after an initial fade, the thing rebounded. Colton brought it, sort of a thank you. I told him I'd kill it, but he left it anyway."

  Amy nodded uncertainly before she dashed for her car. Since when did hook-ups show up holding orchids? The ones she knew about brought condoms, not flowers. For that matter, she knew guys that expected the girl they hooked up with to have those handy. Thank you for what? The sex? Leave it to Lila to find a hot guy with manners.

  * * * *

  "Ride me, Delilah," he encouraged, his voice gravelly as she straddled his knees and bent to drag her tongue from his balls to the head of his cock. He'd pulled in on his lunch break to find her in the garage, still steadily stripping the orange paint from the breakfront. Happy she'd called him, for a change. "Take a break," he'd said, grabbing her from behind and lifting her off her feet.

  "Sounds good." She stripped off the gloves as he walked into the house with her, dropping one on the step into the house and the other on the kitchen floor. He tossed her on the couch in her front room and pounced on the oversize t-shirt, dragging it over her head.

  "Pink again, I love you in pink. Take it off," he ordered, hurriedly turning his attention to his own clothes.

  Lila undid the clasp and dropped the scrap of silk on the arm of the couch, but got lost in staring at him and forgot to pull off her shorts. He stripped her shorts down her legs as he knelt on the floor in front of her, suckling her nipples first, until he had them standing at attention and she was rubbing her mound against his stomach, her legs wrapped around his back as if she thought he might try to escape.

  He licked and sucked her through the matching panties until she growled, literally growled, and pulled his hair, and he pulled the panties down to feast on her until she cried out and came hard, and he kept licking her as she came back to her senses, her hands buried in his hair.

  * * * *

  She pushed at his shoulders and he dragged her with him onto the plush Oriental rug, her torturing him now, sucking and nibbling his balls until he was the one growling.

  He stared at her as she crawled up his body and lifted up on her long thighs, stretching above him as she guided his cock into her pussy, her eyes on his face as she worked herself down.

  She set her own pace, lost in the look in his eyes and the way her body felt when he was inside her, near her, nibbling her, licking her, kissing her. He never thought her sexual wants too extreme. He was ready, hard and eager, always delighted with her boldness, never appalled or judgmental.

  And he never once forgot to hold her after, never rolled away to fall instantly asleep, leaving her lost and bewildered, resentful, alone, trying to make sense of the insanity of intimacy.

  And as the madness took her, he wrapped his arms around her, rolling her to her back to find his own pace, harder, faster now, but he never once let her go, and she began to soar again, not fall, not yet.

  He cried out a name she was becoming, and she wrapped her arms and legs around him to thank him for those heated splashes that reminded her she was still alive, aware that some of the things she'd considered in the dark days would have deprived her of this moment.

  When she came back to reality, somehow she was on top, but he still held her, his legs bent at the knees to help hold her, his thighs pressing against her ass.

  She finally pushed off his chest, wondering when he'd unbraided her hair, but uncaring. He liked her hair down, she'd re-braid it when he left, but right now, she had to put that look of rapt wonder on his face again, so she slowly lifted her hips until the sated monster slipped out and reclined against his muscular legs, widening her thighs as she bent her knees. Watching him intently as she felt the trickle that marked her as a woman, she saw the awe wash over his face like a summer sun over the horizon.

  Her ability to put that wondrous look on his face was a powerful feeling, and Delilah gloried in the moment, treasuring it in her heart.

  Again, she cleaned his fingers, because it wasn't disgusting, it was—

  * * * *

  "Beautiful," he rasped. God, she was so fucking beautiful. What was she thinking, with that Mona Lisa smile while she tore him apart?

  She leaned forward, and pushed her butt insistently against his thighs. He lowered his legs obediently, staring at her as she scooted back then leaned forward until she reached the pearly puddle. She looked up at him as she lapped every drop from his belly button.

  He dragged her forward and kissed her, the taste of his seed on her tongue making him hard again, but time was growing short, damn it. He felt like he never had enough time with her. She steadfastly refused to consider sleeping at his place when Jonah was there.

  "Shower with me, Delilah?" he asked hopefully. She never took a shower with him in this house. Maybe she was ready, though. There was a look in her eyes today he couldn't quite decipher.

  * * * *

  "Let's use mine," she replied. Delilah could do that, could do things Lila could not.

  Delilah could have se
x a second time in the shower, hard and fast, ten steps from the bed where a ghost had insisted sex belonged. Delilah could laugh when Colton asked what she used the removable showerhead for and show him with a wink while he washed her hair, wrapping his strong arms around her when she came.

  But it was Lila who blinked owlishly at him in the kitchen when he asked her out for Friday night. "This Friday?"

  "This Friday. It's your birthday. Do you have other plans?"

  "My best friend is taking me out, and some other girls might drop in," she began, glancing at the orchid as he slid out a chair from under the kitchen table, sitting down to put on his shoes.

  "I can't tag along? I'd like to meet your best friend. I'd gladly pay for her meal. You've met both of mine, you know."

  "Your brothers are your best friends?" she asked, stalling.

  "Spoken like an only child." His tone was exasperated as he picked up a shoe. "Of course they are."

  And one of them disliked her. "Amy's kicking her boyfriend to the curb that night, for me, and Susan, too I think. Lorie's making her husband stay home with the kids. It's just a bunch of women."

  He didn't look at her as he worked his feet into his work boots. "So, four ladies and no guys, huh? Where's the celebration?"

  "We'll probably just complain about wrinkles and the men and kids who caused them. Not much fun for you."

  He looked disappointed, she thought, or mad, but she decided she was imagining things. She was wondering something else now. "How'd you find out?" It didn't seem like something Colton would do, but all she could think was that he'd gone through her purse and checked her driver's license.

  "An old girlfriend of E's works at the DMV. I had to drop off some registration papers for Dan, so I asked her and she looked the date up for me. Thank God E always leaves his girlfriends on good terms."

  "That has to be illegal," she thought aloud, relieved she'd been right about his character. The comment about Eric didn't surprise her. Lila figured you had to care in order to bother to fight.

  "I'd break a few laws for you, I guess." He kissed her and got ready to leave, scooping his hair back into the ponytail, buttoning his jeans, and yanking his shirt over his head before she'd had her fill of looking at him.

  He was so gorgeous; she frequently went stupid around him. "Oh, wait, I made you guys lunch!" She turned and took the large paper shopping bag out of the bottom of the refrigerator.

  * * * *

  "Lila, you don't have to do this," he began, confused as she handed him the big paper bag.

  "The really good turkey was on sale, and I had a blond moment, forgot it was just me now. If I see turkey again before Thanksgiving, I'll… gobble. There're two apiece, so there should be enough for Jonah to have a couple after school, too."

  She was babbling. Something he'd done had shaken her, but he had no idea what that could be.

  He didn't open the bag until he got back to the garage. There were eight neatly wrapped sandwiches, he discovered, turkey with bacon, tomato, lettuce, and cheese on Kaiser rolls, thick with meat and creamy with mayo. There was a big container of the potato salad she made, along with chips and pickles.

  And a note.

  There are some suspiciously clean, shiny parts under my hood. I'm aware it's a family business, so thank you as well as Eric and Daniel very much. Get used to it, this will happen again.

  Busted.

  He grimaced, heading for the office where he knew his brothers were eating fast-food burgers. She had him twisting. Most women expected to spend their birthday with the guy they were seeing, but she hadn't told him when hers was. Was that because of her age? At least she hadn't made a big deal about the work he'd done to her truck.

  Dan and E abandoned their fast-food burgers in a red hot hurry, he noted. "I shouldn't give you these," he told his middle brother fiercely. "Since Lila made them."

  "I take back every word," Eric said, grabbing for the sandwiches.

  "He says another word, I'll kick his ass," Daniel assured Colton, once he'd tasted the potato salad. "You expect to get any of this potato salad, you'll have to kick mine," his biggest brother vowed, clutching the container.

  Colton tried to remember if anyone had ever made him a sandwich after school, other than himself, as he stowed the extra sandwiches in the fridge.

  The thought she only wanted him around for the sex reoccurred, but he tried to shove the idea to the back of his mind as he went back to work. This thing between him and Lila was more than a hook-up.

  It had to be.

  Chapter Twenty

  She tried to work after he left, but confusion drove her to the phone, glad for once Amy's cell phone seemed to grow from the young woman's palm. Amy even checked voicemail in class, yet another reason Lila was secretly glad her child had already completed school. "We need to talk," she said after the prompt, staring at the orchid that wasn't dead. Appeared to be thriving. "I'm ready to give you your 'deets', damn it. Get your butt back here."

  * * * *

  Amy said she had no problem walking out on a class she was acing at the break. She swore she could do analytical geometry in her sleep.

  "How the hell did you confuse this with a hook-up, Lila?" Amy finally asked when Lila fell silent. "Hook-ups don't bring flowers or introduce you to family. They barely bring the condoms. And they damn sure don't go above and beyond to find out when your birthday is." Amy shook her head again. "Oh, honey, casual is when he sees you out with another guy, and he walks over and mentions he's not busy Saturday, and they make a date to go fishing."

  "But, he's twenty-nine," Lila tried to explain the problem again. "And I already knew his family, sort of."

  Amy spun her cell phone around in a circle on the kitchen table. "You say that like I'm supposed to hear twenty. It's his age we're talking about, not some advertising ploy to make you think you're only spending two tens, not three. He's nearly thirty. Thir-Tee. It's the real age of maturity, according to my mother. Genuine, iron-clad adulthood.

  "This isn't a math problem, Amy, or Madison Avenue." Lila was nearly wailing now.

  "Where's my logic error? You're the one that's lost here, not me. He thinks this is more than casual, or he wants it to be."

  "For someone who's not a blonde, you seem to need a map out of that paper bag. Let me dumb this down for you. He's only eight years older than my son," Lila snapped in exasperation.

  Math had never failed her, and Amy's grin was superior as she drove home her point. "How old was Pete when you two got married?"

  * * * *

  Lila felt sick to her stomach as she caught the point her young friend was making. Middle schools everywhere must be in chaos, if Amy was the new norm for teachers. She tried to take a deep breath. "How did you go from sex to marriage? Not helping, Amy."

  "All I meant was, you of all people should know even twenty-year-olds can commit. Quit looking like you're going to jump off a cliff. You're the one hung up on his age, not me. So, to you, it's just sex. He went to a lot of trouble to find out when your birthday was, though." Amy must've sensed Lila was totally off her game, and took advantage. "So, is the sex as good as he looks?"

  "It's freaking incredible," Lila mumbled, banging her forehead gently against the kitchen table.

  Amy apparently wasn't ready to let her off the hook. "But it's like, small, right, and he just uses it well? Nature screwed him somewhere, surely."

  Lila kept her face down. "I call it the monster." Her head snapped up. "But not to his face."

  And even that wasn't the truth, she realized, as Amy shook so hard with laughter that Lila hoped she'd fall out of her chair. She called it her monster. The thought of anyone else conquering that thing made her stomach really ache. Delilah had a lot to answer for.

  Because that little slut had gone and started a relationship.

  Oh, shit.

  "I think I know what confused him, Amy." Lila dropped her forehead to the table again. She could not stand to look at the gleam in Amy's eyes.


  Amy relaxed in the chair. "Do tell. I don't have to be anywhere till six."

  Lila raised her head. "I swear to God, back in the day, the main thing you could get was pregnant, and we had the Pill. I'd never used a condom before, and I hated them. So we stopped."

  Amy's eyes rounded as her head moved violently back and forth. "So not a hook-up."

  Lila's temper frayed. "You cannot start a sentence with a conjunction, damn it. Think of the children."

  "Speaking of children, are you still on the Pill?"

  Now Amy was a comedian, too? This was one concern she didn't have. "Not since I had one ovary removed and the other decided not to work. We were lucky to get Charlie."

  "Conjunctions be damned, Lila. If Murphy's Law kicks in, these children you're so worried about are going to be crawling around in this kitchen, looking up at you. Then, you can correct their English since maybe I'll have them for Math."

  The little bitch had the nerve to laugh while she threw up the coffee she'd had for lunch into the kitchen sink. But she did hold Lila's hair.

  * * * *

  Her hair was still wet, wet from where Colton had shampooed it, something Pete had never offered to do for her. But she'd shampooed Pete's hair for four years. That thought affected her on some deep level Colton would never be able to comprehend, because she couldn't quite get her own head around what the gesture meant to her.

  Lila stared at a strand of her hair as she twisted it around her finger, after kicking Amy out.

  Thinking.

  Thinking about how she didn't even have an official death certificate for Pete yet, because she'd insisted on an autopsy, convinced it was the drug that had killed him, needing to know, not to sue, because they'd signed a release in order to be allowed to participate in the experimental program, but to know. And because she lived in a small city in upstate South Carolina, the toxicology report wasn't done in an hour the way it happened on television. Blood samples were sent off to the state crime lab in Columbia, and non-crimes were pushed to the rear of a very long line. Lila was still waiting for those results.