Wife Is A 4-Letter Word

by Stephanie Bond

  “You,” he said with mock fierceness, “are dead meat.”

  She shrieked and tried to scramble to her feet, but he grabbed her bare ankle and yanked her down to the sand. Weak with laughter, she tried to crawl away from him, but he dragged her back and rolled her over, pinning her arms down.

  Her laughter petered out at the closeness of his face to hers in the darkness, and a warning siren screamed in her head. He lay half on top of her, his chest against hers. His T-shirt had worked up and she felt the warm skin of his stomach through the flimsy cover-up she wore. Every muscle in her body tensed and her pulse pounded in her ears. “Alan—” she said in a shaky voice.

  “Pam,” he cut in with a hoarse whisper, his breath fanning her lips. “Please don’t tell me to stop, because then I’ll have to.”

  She couldn’t see his eyes, but she could hear the loneliness, the desperation in his voice. “Alan,” she croaked with as much strength as she could muster.

  He sighed slowly and lifted his head a few inches in resignation. “What?”

  Seconds stretched into a minute as the waves crashed behind them and the love scene in From Here To Eternity passed before her eyes. God, Alan was so sexy and so...so...so here. Who cared about eternity? “Kiss me,” she said breathlessly.

  For a while, he was completely still, and she wondered if perhaps he hadn’t heard her. But then he lowered his mouth with such sweet slowness, she was able to anticipate the feel of his lips on hers and ready herself for his taste. His lips were like velvet, she thought, as her mouth opened for his. When his mouth met hers, Pam moaned at the surge of desire that swelled in her chest. If she had expected tentativeness, those expectations were banished immediately. It was as if his lips knew hers, as if they had explored the surface and depths of her mouth many times. His tongue boldly tangled with hers in a slashing, grinding dance and he shuddered, offering a deep groan that echoed down her throat.

  The urgency of their kiss increased and he released her arms to seek out more forbidden areas. He caressed her collarbone, then blazed a trail south to cup her breast and thumb the beaded nipple, practically the only skin her bathing-suit top covered. She arched her body into him, and slid her hands under his shirt to feel the hard wall of muscle across his back. He kneed her legs open, then shifted to lie cradled between her thighs.

  Longing pulsed through her body and moisture gathered at her core where he pressed the hard ridge of his erection against her. Slipping her hands below his waistband, she gripped the smooth rounds of his hard buttocks, her mind spinning with the responses he evoked from her body. He lifted his head and gasped, “Not here. Someone might—”

  She cut him off with a deep kiss, then whispered, “The beach is deserted, no one will see us. Besides,” she murmured, yanking his T-shirt over his head, “I think it’s kind of exciting.”

  In a flurry of sand, she pushed down his trunks and dragged them off with her feet. He lay naked on top of her, kissing her deeply and kneading her covered breasts with a slow intensity that told her he planned to take his time undressing her, enjoying her. She writhed beneath him, urging him on with her wandering hands, anxious to explore his body.

  Then a blinding light flashed over his shoulder, directly in Pam’s eyes. “Hold it right there, mister,” said a gruff male voice.

  Alan stiffened, then lifted his head and swung to look over his shoulder. He raised his arm to shield his eyes. “What the hell?”

  “Police,” the man boomed, thumping his badge unnecessarily since the uniform said it all. “Stand up slowly and put your hands in the air.”

  Alan scoffed. “You can’t be serious—”

  “I said, on your feet!”

  Pam’s heart pounded in her chest and she squeezed her eyes shut, unable to watch. When she finally chanced a glance, Alan stood squinting into the cop’s light with his arms in the air, hosting a monster erection.

  “God,” the cop said, wincing.

  “I hope that means you’ll let me find my pants,” Alan snapped, outraged.

  “Make it quick,” the officer said. “I’d hate to haul you in naked.”

  “What?” Alan barked. Pam sprang up, her heart in her throat

  The cop gave him a sneering smile and pulled out a pair of handcuffs. “This is a family beach, you pervert. You’re under arrest for indecent exposure.”

  8

  “I’VE NEVER BEEN so humiliated in my life,” Alan declared as he followed Pam out of the city jail and squinted into the late-afternoon sun. She looked chipper in her crisp white shorts and red silk blouse. He, on the other hand, still sported the sand-crusted swimming trunks and T-shirt he’d been wearing last night when the cop hauled him into jail like a common criminal. Between the cot he’d slept on and the realization that he and Pamela Kaminski hand been minutes away from sharing carnal knowledge, he hadn’t slept a wink.

  “No one will find out,” Pam said in a soothing voice.

  “Oh, really?” he asked. “Is that like, ‘It’s deserted, no one will see us’?”

  She frowned. “I said I was sorry a hundred times—didn’t you hear me?”

  “One hundred thirty-six times,” he corrected. “I heard you during the entire walk to the squad car last night, and as you ran alongside the police car when we drove away, and this morning in the courtroom while the judge was lecturing me—” He stopped and stared toward the street in disbelief, then pressed his palms against his temples. “Pam, are you nuts?”

  “What?” She pushed the cheap sunglasses high on her forehead and unlocked the door to the powder blue limo.

  “You left this pimpmobile parked in a fire zone in front of the jail for two hours?”

  She shrugged her lovely shoulders. “I turned on the hazard lights.”

  “Oh, well,” he said with as much sarcasm as he could muster. “I didn’t realize you’d turned on the hazard lights.” He summoned a dry laugh. “After all, everyone knows that hazard lights cancel out every broken law. Mow down a pedestrian? No problem, just turn on your hazards.”

  “Well, it’s still here, isn’t it?” she demanded hotly.

  “Who the hell else would want it?” he cried, feeling on the verge of hysteria.

  She pointed to the passenger side. “Just get in, will you?”

  “Oh, no,” he said, holding out his hand for the keys. “You are not driving.”

  “I drove here without any problems!”

  “Oh, really?” Alan crossed his arms, then nodded toward the front fender. “And I suppose that telephone pole—size dent just appeared from nowhere?”

  She bit her bottom lip, and handed over the keys in silence.

  “Thank you,” he said, then opened the driver-side door just as a police car pulled up behind the limo with its siren silent but flashing. When the young cop stepped out, he had already begun writing the ticket.

  “Sir,” he said in a pleasant voice. “Do you have any idea what the fine is for parking in a fire lane in front of a government building?” Alan closed his eyes and counted to ten.

  A few minutes later, Pam studied the pink carbon copy the police officer had given him and whistled low. “A hundred and forty-five dollars?”

  “Do me a favor,” he said calmly, gripping the steering wheel so hard his hands hurt. “Just sit over there and don’t talk.”

  “Look, Alan, I know you’re upset—”

  “Upset?” he crowed. “Just because I’m now considered a sex offender? Why would that upset me?”

  “It’s not as bad as you make it sound.”

  “Before yesterday, I’d never even received a speeding ticket.”

  Pam lay her head back. “Do you realize you can rearrange the letters in your name to spell ‘anal’?”

  He scowled in her direction. “I’m not going to apologize for being a law-abiding citizen.”

  “Your secretary called last night.”

  His stomach twisted. “You talked to Linda?”

  “Relax, I told her I work
ed for the hotel and all your calls were being routed to me. She found you a room.”

  “Finally, some good news,” he said, his shoulders dropping in relief.

  “I told her you changed your mind.”

  He weaved over the centerline. “What?”

  “She needed an answer immediately, and I didn’t know how long you’d be in jail...” Her voice trailed off and she raised her hands in a helpless gesture. Her manicured nails had gone from peach to bright red during his incarceration.

  “I’ll call her later to see if the room is still available,” he said. “Right now, even the broken couch in Hotel Hell sounds good.” Then the thought struck him that Pam might think they’d be sharing the same bed, after what nearly transpired last night. Except now that he’d had a few idle hours to ponder their lapse, he realized what a huge mistake it would have been. No matter how much he wanted to sleep with Pam, only a jerk would have rebound sex with his ex-fiancée’s best friend. Besides, he admitted begrudgingly, as infuriating as she could be, Pam was starting to grow on him, and he didn’t want to tread on their burgeoning friendship, didn’t want to be relegated to her bottomless dating pool. “I’ll call and see if the pullout bed can be fixed.”

  “Done,” Pam said with a little smile. “This morning I slipped the maintenance man a twenty and he fixed it in no time.”

  “Great,” Alan said, nodding.

  “Yeah,” she said.

  After a pregnant pause, they both spoke at the same time.

  “About last night—” she said.

  “I want to apologize—” he said, then stopped and they both looked away and laughed awkwardly.

  “It was the moon and the stars—”

  “—and the beer and the ocean,” she added.

  “I was still feeling a little rejected over the wedding—”

  “—and I was feeling lonely.”

  “What a big mistake it would have been,” he said; attempting a casual laugh.

  “Huge,” she agreed.

  “Gigantic—”

  “Colossal—”

  “What with you being Jo’s best friend—”

  “—and you being Jo’s ex-fiancé.”

  Feeling relieved, Alan inhaled deeply. “So we’re in agreement.” Then he glanced over and realized with a sinking feeling that despite his new resolve, he still wasn’t immune to her remarkable beauty.

  “Completely in agreement,” she assured him with a bright smile.

  SHE HAD DONE a lot of stupid things in her relatively short life, Pam decided the next day as she lay in a rental chaise on the beach and watched a kidney-shaped cloud move across the otherwise clear sky. But all of them rolled into one wouldn’t have compared to the absolute brainlessness she would have exhibited if that cop hadn’t shown up the night before last.

  Luckily, Alan seemed to agree with her and they had touched on, danced around and sidestepped the issue of their sexual attraction while somehow agreeing that the sex act itself would have been a grievous error. The logical side of her brain had no problem going along with that argument, but the emotional side of her brain kept remembering the feelings raging through her that night when Alan kissed her—after all her bragging, she had actually closed her eyes! And though she had definitely responded to him on a physical level, he had also stirred something deep inside her. Alan had accidentally managed to blaze a trail where no man had gone before, and the realization saddened her because a relationship between them was impossible. Unthinkable. Inconceivable.

  He was still in love with her best friend, for God’s sake. And she wasn’t about to return to Savannah arm in arm with Alan and have Jo think they had been carrying on behind her back all these years. Besides, Alan P. Parish came from Savannah’s most prosperous family, while she came from Savannah’s most prosecuted family. He wouldn’t be interested in anything other than a sexual relationship with her. Typically, such a revelation wouldn’t bother her, but she was starting to feel a weird sort of affection for the man, striking a memory chord from when she’d first known him in high school. Warning bells chimed in her head and some untapped part of her soul telegraphed increasingly urgent distress signals.

  SUBJECT IS DANGEROUS STOP HEART IN JEOPARDY STOP PROCEED WITH CAUTION STOP

  “Our paths keep crossing.” Enrico’s undulating voice wafted above her. Pam opened her eyes to see him standing over her, surveying her new red two-piece suit with open admiration. He wore a straw hat and snug little bikini swim trunks that Europeans seemed fond of wearing. Pam pressed her lips together in amusement at the recollection of Alan’s scoffing reference to the shiny, elastic garments as “nut-huggers.”

  “It must be destiny,” the dark-skinned man continued with a charming grin.

  “Or just a small beach,” she offered, making no movement to encourage him to stay. She had enough on her mind, and she felt her patience dwindling.

  “Could I interest you in dinner tonight?” he asked. “I know a restaurant where the lobster is fresh and the drinks are strong.” He wagged his dark eyebrows and Pam wondered where he or any other man had gotten the idea that women found the gesture provocative.

  “I already have dinner plans,” she lied. “Thanks anyway.”

  Enrico’s expression grew sultry as he dipped his head. “And do you also have plans for dessert?” he asked, his meaning clear in the husky timbre of his voice.

  “I’m on a diet,” she said, smiling tightly. “Thanks anyway.” Then she retrieved a book from her canvas bag and opened it.

  “That man in the bar yesterday, he is your boyfriend?” Enrico pressed.

  Pam glanced up from the book, suddenly at the end of her fuse. “No,” she said with quiet authority. “He’s my husband.”

  “Oh?” He looked surprised, then pulled a sad face. “And he has left you alone yet again.”

  “I wore him out,” she said evenly, then looked back to her book.

  Enrico must have taken the hint because he moved away after a tongue-rolling farewell, but she felt his dark gaze linger over her and shivered.

  The book was one that Alan had purchased, one she’d devoured years ago, but it was worth another read. Especially if it took her mind off Alan, who lay spread-eagle on the water bed where he’d slept since returning from jail yesterday afternoon. She had eaten dinner alone last night and crawled into the lumpy pullout bed where she’d lain awake for hours thinking about the man only a few feet away.

  She sighed and immersed herself in a world of fantasy and science fiction, caught up in interstellar wars, life and romance in the next millennium.

  In the early afternoon, she gave in to hunger pangs and walked up the path to the grill. After ordering a messy hot dog, she sat down at a table overlooking the beach to sort through the last few days’ disturbing turn of events.

  The crowds had thinned a bit since the locals had resumed their midweek work schedules, leaving behind vacationers and snowbirds who seemed to group almost exclusively by twos. With a start, she remembered that today was Valentine’s Day, so no wonder everyone was paired off—lots of folks were probably here for their anniversary since February fourteenth seemed to be a popular date for weddings. The bartender confirmed her theory by announcing a couples’ sand castle-building contest for the remainder of the afternoon, with the winning pair to receive a romantic dinner at a local seafood restaurant.

  Her mind wandered to Alan and she hoped he was resting. As if on cue, he emerged from the trees that hid the pebbly path below their balcony. To her dismay, her pulse kicked up as she watched him move with natural athleticism down the slight incline and out onto the white sand. A towel lay around his wide shoulders, and he carried a small gym bag, which she surmised was full of books. His head pivoted as he scanned the area. Was he looking for her? she wondered with a little smile. Then he waved to someone farther down the beach and Pam forgot to chew the food in her mouth as she spotted Robin the Computer Lady and her big floppy hat.

  Swallowing pain
fully, she watched as Robin stopped and waited for Alan to walk to her, which he seemed eager to do, she noted wryly. Today Robin wore a high-necked tank suit of boring brown, but Pam conceded her legs were long and slim. From a distance, the woman’s resemblance to Jo was uncanny. She held on to her hat with one hand as she tilted her head back to smile up at Alan. Pam stabbed her chili dog with enough force to snap the plastic fork.

  And Alan seemed to have recovered from his ill mood, she noticed as he offered the woman a broad smile. Robin gestured in the direction from which she’d come and Alan nodded happily, seemingly anxious to follow her...where? To her blanket? Pam sank her teeth into her bottom lip. To lunch? She shredded the paper napkin in her lap. To her room? Pam felt something akin to gas pain in her stomach. At least if he had a fling with Robin, she reasoned, the sexual tension hanging between herself and Alan would be relieved. And maybe they’d be able to get through the rest of the week and arrive back in Savannah with all friendships intact.

  The computer couple stopped after a few steps and Robin squirmed, pointing to her shoulder. Alan stopped, investigated and brushed away the offending object. Oh, brother—the old “something’s on me, will you get it off, you big strong he-man” trick. Pam rolled her eyes. Amateur.

  But Alan must have been convinced because he inched closer to Robin as they strolled away. When Pam could no longer see them from her chair, she stood up. When they disappeared past tiptoe level, she walked to the corner of the deck. “Go for it, Alan,” she muttered as she hung out over the edge with her back foot hooked around the railing to keep from falling. “I couldn’t care less.”

  THE POOL AT THE RESORT where Robin was staying glimmered blue and white, interrupted only by a few adults who lounged in one corner, with firm grips around their drinks. Alan sat next to Robin, bored with shoptalk and hoping something conversational would pop into his head. Accepting her invitation to join her at the pool had seemed like a good idea an hour ago, but now he was feeling restless. For some maddening reason, Alan couldn’t keep his mind off where and with whom Pam had found entertainment for the afternoon.