Eager to spread her wings and fly, under Norman’s tutelage she quickly bloomed into an amazing, confident, radiant woman.
A woman who, unfortunately, hadn’t yet learned how to pace herself or hold her liquor.
“You look a little green around the gills, honey,” he told her.
“Uh-oh.” Maisy hiccupped. “I think I’m soused, Norman.”
“Yeah, big time, I’m afraid… Here, you better put your head between your knees, just in case, until Agatha gets back with that coffee.”
Readily obliging, Maisy slumped like a rag doll into position, her arms dangling. Norman couldn’t help chuckling at the sight. Sure, he’d been trying to get her more relaxed and carefree, to let go of her inhibitions, but this was far looser than he had in mind.
“Noooormaaaan?” Maisy called out from between her legs in a singsong voice.
“Yes, sweetie, I’m right here.” Bent over and doing his best not to laugh out loud at poor Maisy, he patted her back gently.
“Where’s the oompah band?”
“The what, darling?”
“The oompah band,” Maisy repeated, her head still between her knees. “I feel like singing some polka songs.”
“Oh boy… Not here, honey. Wait ’til we get back to the car and I promise you can sing on the whole ride back.”
The bell on the front door jangled and, still bent over, Norman turned to see an attractive, slender young redhead enter the establishment. The redhead looked curiously at Norman and the woman on the steps with her head between her knees, before walking across the floor and heading to the back room, where Agatha had gone.
Norman thought for a moment. That face. He knew that face.
With the horror of wide-eyed recognition, he snapped bolt upright.
“Oh dear God no. Tell me this isn’t happening,” he muttered under his breath. Glancing down at Maisy, he cringed. “Maisy, honey, come on, get up. We’ve got to get out of here. Now…”
He tugged, but Maisy felt like dead weight. “Shit. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.” Norman sent a beseeching look skyward. “God,” he pleaded, “don’t you do this to me.”
“Roll out the barrel. Boom!” Maisy sang out exuberantly.
“Shhh, shhh, shhh,” Norman said, wincing as he lifted Maisy’s head and covered her mouth with his hand. “Maisy, come on. You’ve got to cooperate so I can get you out of here before Sharon gets back in here and recognizes you.”
Maisy frowned. “I don’t like Sharon.”
“Yes, I know. That’s why I need to get you out of here.” He tugged, but it was like pulling greased jelly.
“So we can go someplace where we can sing?” Maisy asked.
Norman rolled his eyes, brushing his forehead with his sleeve to mop the nervous perspiration gathering there. “Yes, yes, exactly. So we can sing.”
“Good. Because I like to sing,” Maisy said through a thoroughly smashed smirk. “We’ll have a barrel of fun. Boom, boom, boom!” Swinging her fist in the air to keep time with her music, Maisy dropped her head back between her knees.
Before Norman could escape with Maisy, Agatha returned with a hefty mug of black coffee in hand and the redhead a few steps behind. “I heard what happened,” the redhead said to Norman. “Is your friend okay?”
“Sure,” Norman answered Sharon Fitch Morganfield, Maisy’s sworn arch enemy. He bit the inside of his cheek, struggling not to erupt in nervous giggles. “She’s just a little, uh—”
“Oompah, oompah, oompah-pah!” Maisy sang out, still swinging her fist.
“Plastered?” Sharon offered with a knowing grin. “Is that the word you’re looking for?”
Norman nodded and they both laughed. He thanked his lucky stars that she hadn’t recognized him.
He decided Sharon didn’t really seem so bad. In fact, she seemed reasonable…perhaps even good-natured. A sense of assurance took hold. Yes, this might just work after all. Maybe he could actually get Maisy out of there without Sharon ever realizing. If he could just keep her head covered…
“Poor thing.” Agatha chuckled. “Something tells me she’s not going to feel much like singing when she wakes up with a whopping hangover tomorrow morning. Here, let’s get her to drink some of this coffee. It’ll help to sober her up.”
Agatha sat on the step below Maisy, placing her hand on Maisy’s head. “Come on, dear, sit up and have some coffee. You’ll feel better.”
“No!” Norman blurted, making Agatha jump, nearly spilling the mug of hot coffee. “I, uh, I just remembered that Mais—I mean, Mabel…” Smiling broadly, Norman patted Maisy’s head. “Mabel here has a severe allergic reaction to caffeine.”
Slowly raising her head, Maisy sang out. “Everybody sing! Roll out the barrel—” Norman quickly pushed her head back between her knees, causing both Agatha and Sharon to eye him dubiously.
Through nervous blips of laughter, Norman explained, “She needs to keep her head down or she’ll throw up all over. Trust me, I know. Seen it happen dozens of times. Nasty.” He shuddered. “Projectile vomiting.”
Maisy struggled to bob up again and Norman pressed down harder, resting his elbow on the back of Maisy’s head and grinning all the while. “Really,” he said, giggling, “trust me.” He bobbed his head as the two women stared at him curiously.
Just then, the door opened, and Norman Stanley’s worst nightmare became a reality.
“Hi, Mom,” Keller said as he dropped his bags and scooped Agatha into a hug. “The meeting ran shorter than I expected, so I’m back a day early. Hey, Sharon,” he addressed the attractive redhead. “Thanks again for picking me up at the airport on such short notice. I gave Williams the day off,” he explained to Agatha.
“Perfect. The boyfriend…the boyfriend’s sister…and the boyfriend’s mother,” Norman mumbled, shaking his head slowly from side to side. “We’ll never make it out alive, kid,” he whispered to Maisy, still keeping her head down with his elbow.
“Oompah-pah,” she replied.
As Sharon shot Norman a narrow-eyed, inquisitive look, Norman cringed. “Lord,” he murmured, “you may as well go ahead and take me now, ’cause Maisy’s going to eviscerate me for this.”
Chapter Eleven
Keller cocked his head at the sound of the familiar voice. “Norman?”
“I’m afraid so,” Norman admitted.
“Hey,” Keller smiled, “I didn’t expect to see you here. What’s going on?” He nodded in the direction of the woman on the steps. “Somebody sick?”
Offering a meager smile, Norman draped his overcoat across the woman’s head, resting his elbow on top while supporting his head in his hand. “Eh…something like that.”
At the sound of girly giggling Keller walked closer to the staircase, lifting Norman’s coat and bending down to gaze at the woman with her head between her knees.
“Maisy?” he said incredulously, as he watched her golden locks bouncing in time with a string of giggles. He’d know that head of disheveled blonde and that distinct giggle anywhere.
“Maisy? Maisy!” Sharon shrieked, balling her hands and firmly planting them against her hips. Turning her wrath on Norman, she transmitted a narrow-eyed glare. “Mabel, huh?”
“Maisy?” Agatha asked Sharon.
“John’s bitch of an ex-wife,” Sharon spat.
“Oh dear,” Agatha said.
“Oh God,” Norman muttered, removing his elbow from the back of Maisy’s head and burying his face in his hands. “Please tell me this isn’t happening.”
Popping her head up, Maisy held her outstretched palm high in the air, moving it in a wide, exaggerated half-circle. “Hello, Keller,” she said exuberantly. Focusing on Sharon with a pouty scowl, she folded her arms across her chest and tucked in her chin. “Hello, Sharon,” she said an octave lower, with all the distaste she could evidently muster in her wobbly condition.
Expelling a pained groan, Norman just shook his head and mumbled to himself.
“Keller, you know
this woman?” Sharon demanded.
Glancing at the obviously inebriated Maisy, Keller sucked in a deep breath. Then he turned to Norman, who just threw his hands into the air with a defeated shrug.
“Answer me, Keller.” Sharon’s grating voice was insistent.
Huffing a resigned laugh, Keller replied, “Yes, Sharon. I know Maisy.”
His sister’s jaw dropped, rendering her momentarily speechless. Keller was always thankful for those rare, precious times. Returning his attention to Maisy as she veered back and forth on the step, he broke into full laughter.
“Maisy Morganfield, I do believe you’re plastered. Again.”
“Maybe jes a lil’ teensy bit,” Maisy slurred, holding her thumb and forefinger an inch apart. “Hey, I know.” She grinned, patting the step she sat on. “Why don’t we all sit down here together and sing polka songs?”
“Jesus H. Christ.” Sharon threw her hands into the air, letting them fall, slapping at her sides. “I don’t fucking believe this.”
“Sharon!” Agatha reprimanded. “Language.” Sharon just rolled her eyes.
While the awkward situation was unsettling, Keller also found it highly amusing. “Maisy, maybe this isn’t the best time to—”
“Roll out the barrel, we’ll have a barrel of—”
Norman clapped his hand over Maisy’s mouth as she belted out her refrain. “Ixnay, Aisymay,” he said out of the corner of his mouth.
Maisy peeled Norman’s hand from her face. “I like your fruit wine, Keller. Tastes just like liquid jam.” She smacked her lips. “Lots better than that crappy cabernet you gave me. Yeeeeuuuuk!” Pinching her nose, Maisy stuck out her tongue and shuddered for added emphasis.
“Spoken like a true wine aficionado.” Keller chuckled.
“A true sophisticate.” Norman nodded.
“And your store is real nice.” Clearly on a roll, Maisy continued. “Really, really, really nice. But you oughtta do something about that furnace ’cause, boy, is it ever hot in here!” With that, Maisy abruptly stood up on the stair, fanning her hand in front of her face. In a few seconds her eyes grew wide and she went chalk-white. As her knees buckled, Keller grabbed her in his arms, catching her before she collapsed.
“Maisy,” Keller whispered as he looked down at the beautiful, unconscious woman resting limply in his arms.
“What are you looking so worried about?” Sharon snapped. “Haven’t you ever seen a drunk pass out before?” Keller shot his sister a warning glare. Tapping her foot rapidly against the wood floor, she crossed her arms over her chest. “How about telling me just what the fuck is going on here, Keller? How do you and that bitch know each other?”
Agatha clasped her daughter’s arm. “I’m warning you, young lady, watch your language. For heaven’s sake, Sharon, now’s not the time for an inquisition.”
“But Mother…” Sharon protested, waving an urgent finger in Maisy’s direction.
“But nothing,” Agatha admonished sternly. “Keller, why don’t you bring the poor girl upstairs to your apartment where she can get some rest? Dampen a wash cloth with cold water and dab it around her face until she comes around, dear.”
“Poor girl, my ass,” Sharon mumbled and then held her hands up in surrender as Agatha shot her daughter a threatening look.
“Okay, Mom,” Keller said. Of all the damn times for his cock to make itself known, this had to be about the worst. But that didn’t keep it from happening as he held Maisy’s lush, warm body close. He just prayed her coat hung low enough to cover his burgeoning erection.
He gazed down at her face again. So sweet. So angelic. So utterly intoxicated. She smelled like sweet fruit wine, and he wanted to lick the taste from her lavish lips. Suck her tongue into his mouth. Strip her naked and find out how she tasted everywhere else…
Keller groaned. How the hell he could get so turned on holding a drunken, passed out woman in his arms, while his mother, sister and the woman’s boss were just a few feet away, was beyond him. Clearly, lust and desire knew nothing of logic or timing.
Agatha turned to Norman and touched his shoulder. “Why don’t you and I fix Maisy a nice, fresh mug of coffee and a little something bland to eat? I think it’ll make her feel better.”
“Sure.” Norman mopped the sweat from his brow with the sleeve of his coat.
Offering a warm smile, Agatha looped her arm through his. “I think you could use a little something to make yourself feel better too.” She winked and Norman nodded thankfully as they strode out of the room. “Sharon,” Agatha called as she rounded the corner, “you stay down here and mind the store until I return.”
Already halfway up the stairs behind Keller and Maisy, Sharon stamped her foot, grumbling a curse before coming back down and taking her position behind the tasting counter.
Once upstairs in his apartment, Keller gingerly deposited Maisy across his bed, stripping her winter coat off and willing himself not to go any further. He ran a clean washcloth under cold water in the bathroom, wringing it out before gently dabbing at Maisy’s forehead.
He sat on the edge of the bed beside her. “Hey, sweetheart. Open your eyelids so I can see those big, gorgeous, Prussian blue eyes of yours.” He continued to blot the cool cloth around her face, smiling as she began to come around. “Feeling better?” he asked as Maisy’s eyelashes fluttered.
Eyes fully open, she took a moment to focus. Beaming a joyful smile, she threw her arms around Keller’s neck. “Mmmm…nice dream,” she murmured, licking her lips. “I always have the nicest dreams about you.”
The involuntary gesture sent an aching jolt to Keller’s libido. “Uh-uh.” Chuckling, he smoothed a few errant locks of hair from Maisy’s face. “This is no dream, sweetheart. This is real life.” He traced Maisy’s features with his fingertips, groaning as his cock stiffened even more.
Maisy closed her eyes, sighed and smiled dreamily. “I don’t think so. The only time I see you anymore, Keller, is in my dreams or fantasies.”
“Aw, honey…”
She let out a breathy little sigh and opened her eyes. Frowning, she tugged at his tie. “Except you don’t wear a suit and tie in my dreams. We’re both naked. Sometimes you’re a green alien named Largo.”
“Is that so?”
“Yup. And we’re making love. For hours and hours and hours…” A breathy little sigh escaped her lips an instant before she spouted forth with a giggle.
“Oh Maisy…” If her words hadn’t gotten to him, their huskiness would have. Keller shifted positions to accommodate his throbbing hard-on. Vivid images of the two of them happily fucking raced across his mind.
“You’re driving me crazy.” He traced his fingers along the collar and shoulder of her soft, silk blouse. When he found his thumb trailing toward the inviting swell of her breast, Keller swore under his breath, fighting to restrain himself.
“I’ve missed you so much, Maisy,” he whispered, his hands ghosting over the curves of her breasts. God, how he wanted to paint her nipples with his cum.
She clutched his hand, bringing it down to connect, molding it to her shape. The nipple beneath his palm pebbled immediately.
“Kiss me, Keller. Just like you did the last time,” she said dreamily, dragging the fingers of one hand over his chest and clutching his shirt just over his heart. Her eyes fluttered closed on a soft moan. “Except don’t get all angry and leave me this time.”
The pained little catch in her voice was like a fist to his gut.
“Stay with me, Keller. Please. Make love to me.” She gazed up at him, her tongue peeking out and sliding slowly across her lips.
If ever there was an irresistible erotic come-on, this was definitely it.
Goddamn, he wasn’t a saint. Succumbing to primal urges, Keller grabbed her so hard she gasped. Crushing her breasts against his chest, he captured her mouth, plundering the sweet depths with his tongue. She tasted of fruit and wine and pure, unadulterated Maisy.
“Ohhhhh…” she breathed i
n such a way that had Keller going nearly insane with lust. The sound tightened the skin of his cock until it stung.
“I have to feel you, Keller. Deep inside…here…”
She reached down and touched herself. He gazed at her fingers stroking the cloth of her skirt, lingering, skating left and right over her mound.
“Please…” Her voice was a soulful entreaty.
Somehow she found the strength to yank him down hard on top of her, wrapping her legs around him and arching her hips as she kissed him like there was no tomorrow. Maisy wedged a hand between them, cupping his erection. His damn, demanding cock was ready to detonate on the spot.
Biting back a low growl, he unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants as she squirmed beneath him. Watching her touch herself was the last straw. This time he remembered the condom. Untangling himself from Maisy long enough to retrieve one from his nightstand drawer, he tore the packet open with his teeth and sheathed himself. He hiked her skirt up and all but ripped off her panties, like a man possessed.
“I’m so hot, Keller. So wet…I need you…”
“Oh baby, I’ve been waiting to do this since the first time I laid eyes on you.” Eyeing her glistening pussy, Keller positioned himself for entry, guiding her hips with shaking hands. He paused and smiled.
“I can’t resist…I’ve got to taste you first.” Head lowered, he spread her labia and breathed in her musky fragrance, her scent inundating his senses. “The sweet smell of sex,” he said hoarsely, just before licking her dewy pink cunt in a long, purposeful lap.
Maisy gasped and trembled. A cry tore from her throat as she dug her fingers into his shoulders. “My God, Keller. What are you doing? And whatever it is, please do it again.”
“I’m eating you.” He swirled the tip of his tongue at her clit, savoring the wet, hard berry. “Sampling your delicious private stock.” Delving deep inside, he fucked her intimate flesh with his tongue.
“I can’t stand it. Keller. I want you so much it’s making me tremble.”
He looked up at her, the desire in her gaze making his gut clench in raw pleasure as she clawed at him like a bold, glorious wild animal.
Absolutely Not Page 15
