And then he parted my legs fully and began to push himself inside. I welcomed him, pulling him in all the way with my legs. He kissed me as he thrust, slowly at first. Then he pushed himself up on his arms and began a rhythm that soon became urgent. I pulled him with my legs and hands until we both reached a hot and sweaty climax.
Afterward, Keith cradled me in his arms. We both fell asleep, but woke up in the early morning hours and found each other again. I wasn’t thinking about all the consequences of my behavior with this major donor that I had come to meet with the day before. I just let my thirsty body be my guide. It had been over a year since I’d felt human touch, and that was too long.
When I woke up, Keith was sitting on the side of the bed wearing his clothes. I felt a little embarrassed to be in the sheets naked.
“I ordered room service,” he said.
I felt even more embarrassed. What did the hotel staff think about its owner bedding a woman and then ordering room service? I hoped it wasn’t something they were used to. I began to worry it was something they were used to.
I grabbed the sheet and wrapped it around me. I picked my clothes up from the floor and went into the bathroom. I looked at myself in the mirror. What had I done? I asked myself. This couldn’t possibly be a good thing. And then I remembered how Keith felt inside of me and a little moan escaped my lips.
A rolling tray with covered plates and a pot of coffee was in the room when I came out of the bathroom. Keith lifted a silver dome and revealed a plate of eggs benedict, the hollandaise sauce drizzling down a stack of English muffins and egg. I was starving.
I sipped the rich coffee, then dipped a stick of chocolate biscotti in it. I sucked in the soft warm bread and let it melt on my tongue.
“I’m kind of embarrassed,” I said. “That the staff here knows you spent the night with me.”
He looked at me. “I’ve never done anything like this before,” he said. “I guess it’s okay since I do own the place. But I get what you’re saying.”
I was relieved that he’d never done it before. I guessed I’d just have to live with the embarrassment of it all. We were two grown people, after all. Still, embarrassing.
I laughed then and Keith chuckled. He pulled me to him and kissed me.
“I know you probably have to get back home, but if you don’t, could you stay for Thanksgiving?”
I had left Midnight plenty of food. I saw the overfilled bowl in my mind.
“My mother always had a Thanksgiving feast for the workers on the mountain, but I didn’t do anything this year,” he said. “I feel bad about that. But we could go to my house and see what’s there.”
“Let’s go see what you’ve got,” I said.
“Rosa does my shopping and cooks for me,” he said. “But she’s off for the holiday.”
“Who’s Rosa?” I asked.
“She’s my housekeeper and cook.”
“Oh,” I said. Must be nice to have a housekeeper and someone to cook your meals.
I gathered up my purse and the plastic bag with toiletries and the nightgown and followed him out the room and down the stairs. Keith waved at Paul as we walked through the lobby and out the door.
“Follow me,” he said. I followed his beat-up truck up and down several roads until he turned onto a dirt road with a mailbox at the entrance. The road was long and curvy and ended at a log cabin nestled in the trees. A panorama of mountains stood in the background.
When we walked in the door, my eye immediately went upward to the vaulted ceiling. An intricately woven rug hung over the second-floor railing. Like the inn, the walls in Keith’s house were varnished logs. A plush gray sofa and two Mission style chairs were grouped facing a large fireplace surrounded by flat rocks. I saw a kitchen to the left that was open to the main area, with a counter separating the spaces.
“Let’s see what I’ve got in there,” Keith said.
I put my bag and purse on the couch and followed him to the kitchen. He opened the fridge and peered inside, me by his shoulder.
“It looks like some squash and carrots,” he said. “Not much.”
I opened the freezer section on the top.
“You’ve got a whole chicken here,” I said. “We could thaw it out. Do you have any potatoes?”
He turned and pointed to a basket sitting on the counter near the stove. It held three large golden potatoes. Another basket held several onions.
“I can make us a meal,” I said.
“I don’t want you to have to do that,” Keith said. “It’s your holiday, and that doesn’t seem right. We can go back to the inn to eat.”
“It’s okay,” I said. “I don’t mind a bit. I cook all the time.” Well, that was partially true. I used to cook all the time, when I had someone to cook for. And now it looked like I had someone to cook for again—at least for Thanksgiving Day.
“If you’re sure,” Keith said uncertainly.
“We need to defrost the chicken in the microwave,” I said, taking charge of his kitchen. I took it out of the freezer and set the microwave on defrost.
“You can help by peeling some carrots and potatoes,” I said.
I found a peeler in the drawer and handed it to him. He picked up a carrot and clumsily started to peel.
“Start from one end and go to the other,” I said. He did as I instructed and peeled five carrots. Then he moved to the potatoes, which gave him more trouble, but he finally seemed to get the hang of it. I could take care of the pieces of skin still lingering when he was done.
Somebody had stocked his kitchen with cookware—Rosa?—and I found a roaster for the chicken and placed it in the preheated oven. It was close to noon by that time. I cut the potatoes and put them in a pot of water to boil, I cut the squash and a little onion and started that sautéing in a skillet. I cut the carrots into circles and started boiling them.
“Time for a break,” I said. Keith opened a bottle of wine. He had started a fire while I was cooking and the room felt cozy. I sat on the couch and he handed me a glass of wine before sitting beside me. Very close. He put his hand on my thigh and the heat was delicious.
I sat with him for fifteen minutes or so before I went back to the kitchen to finish our meal. At two, I set a platter of chicken cut into pieces on the table, and surrounded it with a bowl of gravy, mashed potatoes, squash, and candied carrots. I looked at the full table. I had outdone myself.
“I can’t believe this,” Keith said when he sat down. “You’ve gone above and beyond the call of duty for the university.”
That stung just a little. I felt embarrassed. I had, after all, gone to the mountains on official university business. I had ended up succumbing to Keith’s charms and made him a full dinner. Was it just as my role with the university to him? Did he get this kind of treatment when he donated money? Did he expect it? I cringed. I suddenly felt so foolish.
Keith didn’t seem to notice. He filled his plate and savored every item I had cooked. I barely touched my food. I just needed to get out of there, I realized. Get home to Midnight and my own home and hope I could get over my embarrassment. Hope that no one at the university knew I had slept with him and then cooked him a meal! Keith was right. It was above and beyond the call of duty.
“Amy?” Keith said.
I looked up into his eyes.
“Is something wrong? You’re hardly touching your food. I feel like I’ve said something wrong.”
I had been through too much in the past year to be coy or deny my feelings.
“It was when you said that stuff about going above and beyond the call of duty for the university. Do you think the university sent me here to sleep with you and make you dinner?”
Keith stood up and came around to my side of the table. He pulled me up with his hand and hugged me.
“No, of course not!” he said. “I’m sorry I said that. It was just a phrase. I didn’t think.”
I smelled his woodsy fragrance. I wanted to believe in him.
; He cupped my face in his hands and looked into my eyes.
“Of course I know this isn’t for the university,” he said. “I hope it’s for me. And you.”
“Why did you refuse to donate to the university if they didn’t hire me back?” I asked bluntly.
“Because, when I met you at my mother’s funeral, I saw something in your eyes. Something incredible. I can’t explain it, but I knew I wanted to see your eyes again. Be with you again.”
“But you donated millions of dollars,” I said.
“It was worth it,” Keith said. “To be with you.”
“Are you kidding me?” I asked. But a warm feeling was spreading through me. I realized that Keith had felt that way when I looked my very worst. When I was insecure and hiding behind layers of fat.
“No,” he said. “I learned more from my mother than how to run a business.”
He leaned down and kissed me gently then. I put my arms around him and pulled him closer as I explored his mouth. I hadn’t been with anyone but Jim for eighteen years, and now I had been with someone else. Someone who seemed to care about me.
We left the food on the table and Keith led me upstairs to his bedroom. We both undressed as quickly as we could and fell onto the quilt-covered bed still holding onto each other. He nuzzled my neck and kissed my breasts before moving to my mouth. I eagerly accepted his tongue. His knee was between my legs and I felt his hardness on my thigh. I pulled him into me then because I couldn’t wait another second to feel him grinding into me. And grind he did, until both of us were released.
Afterward, Keith held me in his arms until we fell asleep.
***************
I woke up with a start. The room was dark and the clock read 6:57. Keith stirred and opened his eyes.
“I left my cat at home by herself,” I said. “I’m worried about her. She’s used to me being there.”
“It’s dark now,” Keith said. “You shouldn’t drive. Will your cat be okay until tomorrow? You can leave first thing.”
“I guess so,” I said. I didn’t really want to leave and I knew Midnight had enough food. But I was a little worried about her all alone in the house.
“I’m going to order something from the inn,” Keith said, getting up from the bed. I glanced at his nudeness and wanted him all over again. I blushed at the thought.
Keith pulled on his pants and got his cell phone out of his pocket.
“Paul,” he said into the phone. “Is there anyone there who can bring an order to my house?”
After a moment, Keith said, “I think we’d like the beef tenderloin with mushrooms, orzo, and asparagus. Could you throw in some of that bread pudding? Thanks.”
Keith turned to me. “They’re closing the kitchen at eight tonight, so it’s no problem to get our food. Paul said he’d bring it by personally on his way home.”
“Must be nice to own an inn,” I said.
He laughed. “It does have its perks,” he said. “I was thinking we could take a bath while we wait on our food, unless you’d rather have a bath by yourself.”
“I’d like a bath,” I said.
He walked into the bathroom and I heard the water start flowing into the tub. I wrapped the quilt around me and walked in. The tub was huge with plenty of room for two. Keith poured in some bubble bath. That made me wonder a little bit. What man had bubble bath sitting by the tub?
“Rosa keeps this here,” he said as if reading my thoughts. “I’ve never used it. I guess she thinks a bathtub should have bubble bath beside it.”
I slipped into the silky water on one end and Keith slipped in on the other. We wrapped our legs around each other. I was trying to turn my mind off to what I had done since I’d been in the mountains, to what I was going to do again. Keith’s legs rubbing against me made it easy to stop thinking about consequences. I was only in the moment, yearning for him.
Keith got out of the tub first, and I admired his body once again. He pulled me out and dried me off, gently rubbing the towel over my breasts, then over my back and between my legs. He kissed me and pulled me against his silky body.
The doorbell rang, and Keith hurriedly pulled on his pants and a shirt. Paul had brought our food, which Keith put on the coffee table in the great room. I was still wrapped in a towel while we ate our tenderloin. I was starving since I’d hardly eaten my Thanksgiving dinner. The fire crackled when Keith put on a fresh log. We sipped red wine and ate and talked and laughed. Afterward, Keith released my towel and made love to me on the couch in front of the fire.
Chapter Fourteen
After a night of lusty sex two more times in the bedroom, I woke up and put my work suit on again for the third day in a row. I had to pull myself out of this fantasy and get back to my own house, my cat. After I dressed, I stood over the bed and looked down at Keith, who was still sleeping. Should I leave him a note? That didn’t seem right. I shook his arm.
He opened his eyes and looked at me. Then he sat up.
“You’re ready to go, aren’t you?” he said.
“I need to get back,” I said. “But you can come to my house if you want to.” I surprised myself with that.
“I think I do want to,” Keith said, getting out of bed and revealing his morning wood. I glanced away shyly. I watched him as he dressed in faded jeans and a flannel shirt. He packed a small bag with clothing and things he got from the bathroom. I wished I could have been so prepared when I came up to the mountains so innocently without a change of clothes. And what was I doing, inviting him to the house I had shared with Jim? I started to feel a little uneasy about it.
“I’m ready,” Keith said picking up his bag.
He got into a black SUV that was parked in his garage and followed me all the way back home. When I opened the kitchen door, with Keith right behind me, Midnight circled my ankles. I petted her and Keith petted her. I was surprised she allowed that.
I thought it would be weird to have a man in the house I had shared with Jim, but it wasn’t. I had made it my own house and I welcomed Keith. We spent the next three days together, watching TV, listening to music, cooking, and making love. He left at nine on Sunday night.
I closed the door after he left and leaned against it. I took several deep breaths. My life had changed in a way that I had never expected and I needed to take it in.
Keith called me when he got back home and we made plans for the next weekend. I would visit him and we would attend a crafts fair. That smacked of my former life with Jim, but I put that out of my mind. This was a different life with someone else.
When I walked into the office on Monday, I floated down to my office.
Keith texted me that morning saying he missed me. I texted him back that I missed him too. He called me after I got home from work. We talked for two hours, learning about each other. He discussed his mother and growing up on the mountain. He talked about his brief marriage and the women he had dated since then. His mother had hoped he would remarry, but he never found anyone who was right. I gradually began to open up about my marriage.
What distinguished my growing relationship with Keith was that we laughed together. Jim and I had never really laughed that much, we were so busy trying to get him through law school, then working toward making partner, then trying to have a baby. It had been a stressful time. We had not survived.
Over the next month and through the holidays, I visited Keith or he visited me. We saw each other every single weekend. I spent Christmas with him and we bought a tree and decorated it together. He spent New Year’s at my house and I cooked pork tenderloin, turnip greens, and black-eyed peas to bring good luck for the following year. We watched the ball descend in Times Square and toasted each other with champagne.
I heard my cell phone pinging during that New Year’s holiday, but I ignored it. My parents were on a Caribbean cruise so I wasn’t expecting to hear from them. Finally, I started to worry that something had happened with my parents, so I checked the phone while Keith was taking a showe
r.
It was Jim. Dammit! I didn’t want to hear from him. So, I didn’t read his text or listen to his voicemail. Why was he trying to get in touch with me now, when I had a new life? What could he possibly want?
I kissed Keith goodbye at the kitchen door on New Year’s Day, late in the afternoon. He had to get back to his business and I had to return to work the next day. Only then, after I saw Keith’s headlights back out the driveway and go down the road, did I check my text messages.
“Can we talk?” Jim had texted. And “I really would like to talk to you,” on another text. I listened to his voice mail.
“Amy,” he said. He sounded kind of despondent. “If our years of being together means anything to you, would you please call me?” I couldn’t imagine what he wanted. We had been divorced for months. And he was monthly paying the price for his infidelity. What did he want?
A text or a phone call was too immediate somehow, so I sent Jim an email.
“I don’t know why you are trying to contact me,” I wrote. “But I have no desire to talk to you. If you feel you need to tell me something, then please send me an email. I will not be calling you or texting you.”
It couldn’t be any plainer than that. I was upfront about it, and I didn’t want a personal interchange with him.
After I sent the email to Jim, I took a long shower. As I bathed myself, I thought about Keith, touching me all over. I missed him so much when he was gone. I wanted him in my bed every single night and day.
Keith called me when I was in bed and nearly asleep. He said he missed me.
“I know we’re just starting here,” he said. “But right now, I just want to feel you. I want to kiss you. This really sucks.”
The Sweetest Revenge Page 9
