by Sally Apple
If she weren’t so horny, she’d tell him off and send him home right now.
“Well, never mind that.” She pulled his arm around her neck and rubbed her breast against his ribs. “I’ve been wondering if we could renegotiate our agreement.”
“Which agreement is that?” He glanced down where her breast pressed against him and swallowed audibly.
“The one about not having sex before our wedding.” She took his hand and placed it over her other breast—the one not wedged against his ribs.
Surprise brought his head up. “You want sex before our wedding?”
“Yes, I do. We should get a little practice in before the honeymoon, don’t you think?” She stroked his thigh up as far as his crotch, then went ahead and cupped the area under his fly.
He removed his hand from her breast and grabbed her wrist, lifting it off his privates. His chuckle sounded forced. “You just leave that up to me, my dear. I’ll educate you in the ways of love. That’s a husband’s duty.”
“Yes, but—”
“Don’t worry your little head about anything.”
“But—”
“Nature will take its course. How do you think cavemen evolved into modern man? If a caveman could figure it out, I’m sure we can.”
Dickie wasn’t behaving as though he’d had much experience with women. He wasn’t still a virgin, was he?
Nah! Couldn’t be!
She tugged his T-shirt up and revealed his hairless chest. “On the other hand, a little expertise wouldn’t hurt. We don’t want our honeymoon to be a disappointment, do we?” She threw a leg across his lap and straddled him. Pulling her tank top downward caused her breasts to pop out the top. She rubbed her nipples against his chest. “I would take it as a big favor if you would warm my bed tonight.”
“Shelley!” He started to push her away, but jerked back when her breasts flopped across his fingers. He pressed himself back into the sofa. “I don’t think—”
She shut him up with an openmouthed kiss. Problem was, he didn’t part his lips to let her slide her tongue inside. She was left sucking on his lower lip.
He grabbed her shoulder with one hand, trying to steer her off him. “What has gotten into you? You’re making me spill my drink!”
Wordlessly, she took the glass from him and set it on the coffee table, sloshing only a little liquid onto the surface. “What do you say, big boy? Wanna roll in the hay? Do the horizontal mambo?”
“Shelley! What’s gotten into you?”
“Make love to me!” She squirmed against his pelvis. “Please?”
His eyes showed a wide margin of white.
She grabbed him by the shirtfront. “Richard Gillet, I want you to fuck my brains out right now, dammit!”
He gaped at her, his mouth moving silently like a fish out of water.
She tugged at the top button on his pants, but his hands closed around hers in a death grip.
“No!” he rasped. “We talked about this before! We decided to wait!”
“I changed my mind. I’m horny as a goat right now.”
“Christ, Shelley!” He dumped her off his lap as he got up. “I’ve never seen you like this!”
Sitting on the floor, she gazed up at him, feeling hurt and wondering how she could have reduced herself to begging for sex. Where was her pride? Her self-respect?
“I never buy a pair of jeans without trying them on first,” she said, narrowing her eyes at him. “Wouldn’t it be dumb to get married before we checked out what our love life would be like?”
His hands were shaking as he straightened his clothes. “You’ve been drinking, haven’t you? Way too much, if you ask me! I suggest you take a cold shower—that’s what I do—and go to bed early. You’ll feel better in the morning.”
“It’s only 6:15!”
“When you said you had pre-wedding jitters, you weren’t kidding!” He headed for the door, leaving behind the bag of hamburgers and the two videos. “I’ve gotta go, Shelley. I’ll call you later, okay?”
“Dickie, don’t you dare walk out on me!”
On the verge of tears, Shelley watched him go, realizing the futility of chasing after him. When the engine of his car fired up in the driveway, she gave up hope that he would give her the loving she craved. Maybe, just maybe, he never would give her any loving. What if he was impotent? Was that his problem?
Unable to think of anything sadder than marrying an impotent man, she burst into tears. For several minutes, she sobbed her heart out. Finally, with dripping nose, she went in search of tissues.
How could Dickie love her if he couldn’t stand to touch her? It made no sense. According to the books and, yes, the adult video, which displayed its own brand of truth, men were supposed to be putty in the hands of women. Men, as a rule, didn’t turn women down—not by choice. They did their thinking with their peckers. Wasn’t that the way it was supposed to be, the way God put men together?
She blew her nose, then studied herself in the bathroom mirror. Was it her? Had she turned him off somehow? She groaned loudly, wanting to sink out of sight, drop off the world. He hadn’t seemed the least tempted by her attempts at seduction. Obviously, her natural attractions and allure weren’t enough. He simply didn’t find her irresistible.
Then why does he want to marry me?
Earlier, Dickie had brought up the caveman metaphor. He was correct up to a point, she had to admit, because humans certainly wouldn’t have survived to the modern age if primitive man hadn’t figured out how to copulate. But, if Neanderthal or Cro-Magnon hadn’t gotten a hard-on, why would he have even chased the female down and lugged her back to the cave by her hair? No, it was clear that if primitive man hadn’t looked at a female and immediately thought “Me fuck her!” then Homo sapiens would have become extinct long ago.
Dickie had rejected her advances completely. If she were filling out a report card, she would have to give him a D-minus or maybe an F in Sexiness. She’d have to check the boxes for “Lack of interest” and “Failure to do homework”.
Okay, to be fair, she might be partly to blame for Dickie’s reaction. Her urges had gotten out of control. Maybe aggressive women frightened him off.
Face the truth, sweetcakes.
Her mistake had been in reading the smutty books. They had created a delusion, filled her mind with unrealistic expectations.
She left the bathroom and went to the bedroom to gather up the dangerously seductive books. After hiding them on the top shelf of the linen closet, she vowed never to read them again.
Still feeling blue, she cleared the coffee table and wiped up the spilled alcohol. The ugly stain on the finish didn’t improve her mood.
Staying home tonight was out of the question. The walls were closing in on her! Maybe she should call Rita. They could go to a movie or something. She just had to get her mind off Dickie and the ease with which he had rejected her most precious gift.
She let Rita’s phone ring a dozen times, but her friend didn’t answer. So much for last-minute plans. Well, that left going to the movies alone. Not much fun, but better than fidgeting around the house all evening suffering from unrequited passion.
The rental video was still in the VCR, so she took it out and shoved it into its box. The last thing she needed was to watch that thing again. Just to be on the safe side, she should drop it off at High Score on her way to the movies. Get the damn thing out of her house, out of her mind. She couldn’t promise she wouldn’t go stark raving mad if she succumbed to the temptation to watch it twice.
After changing into a silk blouse and jeans, she pulled on a hip-length car coat, dropped the video into her big purse and headed out the door. Halfway to the carport, she paused at the garbage can long enough to dispose of the bag of uneaten hamburgers.
* * * * *
Thor Ryersson’s eyes widened in surprise when a customer he never expected to see again walked through the door of his establishment. “Hey, Shelley!”
She approached
the counter, smiling shyly. “Do you memorize the names of all your customers?”
“No. Just the attractive ones.” He smiled at the blush that spread across her face and mottled her neck.
As his gaze locked with hers, the blood slowly left his head to pool between his legs. Uh-oh, he thought, as his cock swelled behind his fly. Trapped behind the counter again.
“I, uh, wanted to return your video. I appreciate your lending it to me.”
He took it from her and stuck it with some others stacked nearby, marveling that she had brought it back so soon. He’d been ready to kiss it goodbye, forgetting that sweet things like her wouldn’t stoop to keep things indefinitely that didn’t belong to them.
You’ve been hanging out with the wrong crowd too long. You’re becoming jaded.
“I hope it answered some of your questions,” he said.
“I suppose.” She leaned an elbow on the countertop and gazed up at the poster of the Bad Boys. Her left hand, lying on the surface, definitely did not sport an engagement ring.
He studied her in silence, surprised when she made no attempt at a quick getaway. Even though it was not yet dark outside, most women would have felt intimidated sticking around his place for long. Young women like Shelley, who didn’t have a clue about the dark side of life, usually knew enough to avoid men like him. Judging by the way she affected him, she would be wise to fly out that door.
“I wasn’t sure you’d still be open,” she said in a conversational tone.
“I often get some business until about eight. If I open at 11:00 in the morning, I get in nine hours, and that’s enough for one day.”
She continued to gaze at the poster. “I’ve never seen male strippers do their thing.”
Thor thought she might be trying to avoid looking at him. If she was that nervous, why was she hanging around? Not that it didn’t please him enormously to have her there. What would she do, he wondered, if he hauled her over the counter and kissed her breath away?
“That’s too bad,” he said. “A lot of women get a kick out of them.”
When she didn’t reply, he kept the conversational ball rolling. “I suspect it’s a form of rebellion—women going out together to watch the Bad Boys perform. It’s naughty, but safe. They see no danger in a crowd of women. Although, I worry sometimes that they’ll trample one another.”
She smiled at that. Her gaze had finally shifted to his face, and her blush began to fade.
“You’ve got to see it to believe it.” He chuckled, picturing the women packed like sardines into small clubs throughout the less populated areas of America, held back from the low stage by nothing more than a red ribbon. You rarely saw crowds like that in big cities where strip joints had become old hat, which was why Thor had advised Joe to book the Bad Boys in small out-of-the-way communities where they created more of a sensation.
“I’ll have to go see them sometime.” Shelley straightened as though preparing to depart.
If she walked out through that door, he knew positively he’d never see her again. “If you want to see their performance, I’ll be happy to take you. They’ve got a show tonight starting at eight o’clock.”
She gave him a startled look, then dropped her gaze. “Thanks, anyway. I should get back.”
He glanced at his watch. “We’d have to kill some time before the show—about an hour. We can grab a bite somewhere between now and then.”
She hesitated. “I, um, thought you stayed open here until 8:00.”
“Yes, but my cousin’s helping me out. He’s watching videos in the back. I can get him to hold down the fort for a while. At any rate, I’m due for a break.” He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “But I sure as hell hate to eat supper alone. How about keeping me company? We can go over to that new place that opened last week. The Harbor Lights—heard of that? Supposed to serve a pretty good rib steak.”
As if in answer, her stomach growled. She laughed, blushing again, and he joined in.
Ah, the path to a woman’s heart might be the same as for a man’s, as the saying goes…
“I don’t really know you well enough, Mr. Ryersson.”
“Call me Thor. All my friends do. If you’re nervous, we can go separately and meet there. I don’t want you feeling uncomfortable.”
She didn’t answer, but her expression told him she was debating.
She’s interested. Definitely interested. Just needs a little coaxing…
He walked around the end of the counter, heading for the back of the shop. “Hang tight a minute. I’ll get Joe to keep an eye on things here while we’re gone.”
Shelley waited for him, unwilling to simply walk away while he was out of sight. Odd how he took for granted she would accept his invitation. He was so sure of himself, he scarcely acknowledged her weak protests.
Guilt stabbed at her. What was she doing here? She shifted her weight, knowing she should leave. Still, the memory of Dickie’s rejection kept her feet nailed to the floor. Her restless yearning hadn’t diminished one iota since her fiancé had bolted out her door.
The hungry look on Thor’s face, however, assured her of his attentive interest. She would bet everything she owned that he wouldn’t reject her advances. What would he do, she wondered, if she moved in close and cupped that bulge between his legs? She’d spotted his arousal the moment he stepped out from behind the counter. His obvious reaction to her served as a validation of her femininity and attractiveness. God, she needed that right now!
He strode back to the front of the store and retrieved his car keys from under the counter. “You know where it is over on Farrell Street, don’t you? If not, you can follow me.”
Out in the parking lot, to Shelley’s mild surprise, Thor threw his leg over a late-model Harley motorcycle. As he revved up the engine, the deep throaty roar echoed between the walls of the taller buildings flanking his shop. The combination of shiny black paint and bright chrome on the machine, together with smooth black leather, suited Thor perfectly. While he would have looked natural mounted on a charger jousting with opponents, riding a big Harley was the next best thing.
She climbed behind the wheel of her Spyder and started the engine. Once they were in traffic, she followed Thor through several intersections. Twilight had deepened into full dark when she turned onto Farrell right behind him and found a parking spot near Harbor Lights.
Walking up to the entrance of the restaurant alongside Thor, her heart thrummed with excitement. She realized she had succumbed to his charms and fallen in with his plans, because she wanted to. Really wanted to. After reading the books he’d chosen for her and watching the video he’d lent her, she had come to associate him with everything sexy she had recently learned. With Thor, she sensed, she wouldn’t be risking a rejection.
The first time she’d met him, he’d offered to tutor her about sex. Rita had laughed as though it had been a joke, while Shelley had stood there speechless. Just the same, he’d managed to start her education with two books and a video. She’d resisted him at first, but he had a way of putting things in motion. Was he the kind of guy who always got his own way somehow?
Once inside, the hostess guided them to seats in a booth by a window where they could watch the western horizon lose its last glow of the day. The dividers between all the booths provided some privacy, which Shelley appreciated. She certainly didn’t want to run into anyone she knew. Not when she was on a date with someone other than Dickie.
Thor took the initiative and ordered a good red wine to go with two rib steaks with baked potatoes and garden salads. That suited Shelley, because her brain cells were too uncoordinated to make a decision. She felt completely out of her depth with Thor. Something about him jammed her thought processes. Especially when his eyes held her gaze.
“Let’s have a toast,” he said, raising his wineglass.
She raised hers in response.
He smiled, his blue eyes holding her in thrall. “To our quest for happiness, wherever
it may take us.”
“I’ll drink to that.” She sipped her wine.
Without taking his eyes off her, he tipped his glass and swallowed.
Just when she began to squirm under his direct gaze, he chuckled and set his glass down. “I’m sorry. You’re just so beautiful, I can’t stop staring.”
Her face flooded with warmth and her ears tingled. She dropped her gaze. “Thank you.”
“I love it when you blush like that. You are so innocent.”
She frowned, feeling a bit insulted. “Not that innocent—after watching your video!” She toyed with her wineglass.
“So, what did you learn?”
She shrugged, without looking up. Her face must be beet red, she realized, judging by the heat.
“Did you see anything you want to try?”
She took a drink of wine in order to stall answering his outrageous question. “Maybe.”
To her relief, the waiter arrived with their salads. She dug in, hoping Thor would drop the subject of the video. At the same time, she anticipated his next move, counting on it being provocative. She felt torn, yearning for what she shouldn’t have, yet terrified she might get it.
Cutting into a tomato, he continued, “I have a feeling I know the sort of thing that turns you on.”
Shelley knew she should put a stop to this conversation. It was improper subject matter for two people who were virtual strangers. In fact, she should give him an ultimatum—mind your manners or I’m walking out of here.
But she didn’t.
She was curious about what he thought would turn her on. They were sitting in a public place with her car parked right outside. She could leave whenever she wanted. What would be the harm in flirting a little with danger?
She risked a glance at him. Yes, he definitely had a dangerous look. Predatory to the nth degree. How wise was it to tease a lion—especially when he wasn’t locked in a cage?
Unable to help herself, she goaded him. “How can you tell what turns me on?”
“By your personality.”
“Oh?”
