by Jan Hudson
Sunny sniffed.
“Are you crying?”
She shook her head and sniffed again.
“Aw, sweetheart.” He turned to her and gathered her close.
She clung to him, feeling comforted by his strength, bonded to him by the invisible golden threads of the experience they’d shared. “Let’s go home.”
* * *
With Kale driving the Escort, they pulled into the driveway of the big house facing the bay. Sunny said, “When the ambulance came, I was in such an uproar that I forgot to ask you where you found my keys.”
“In the pantry on top of a can of tuna. Why do you leave them in such strange places?”
“I don’t know. I usually put them down with the last thing in my hand and swear that I’ll remember, but I’m always losing them. Even when I put my keys someplace special so that I won’t forget, I do.” She yawned as he helped her out of the car.
“Tired?”
“Mmmm. But a good tired.” As they walked to the back door, his arm was around her, and her head leaned against his shoulder as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “I’d love to have a glass of wine and a long soak in a bubble bath.”
“Need someone to wash your back?”
His question was the perfect opening for her to put a damper on any intimate involvement between them, and its playful tone would allow her to do so without making a big deal of it. But the simple no didn’t come. She honestly didn’t want to say no. Instead she said, “Are you a good back washer?”
“The best there is. I learned my skills from a pro in the Orient.”
She laughed softly. “I’ll bet you did.”
He kissed her forehead and said, “Use the tub in Ravinia’s room. It’s bigger. I’ll get the wine.”
Upstairs, Sunny undressed and put on a short lavender silk robe. By the time she’d walked down the hall to Ravinia’s room, her heart was beating wildly. She opened the door cautiously and turned on a Tiffany lamp, feeling a niggling disquiet about entering. But instead of the sense of foreboding she expected, the room seemed alive and welcoming.
The leaded-glass lamp shade cast a muted, multicolored light over the room and illuminated the huge bed, with its intricately carved headboard and gold silk spread. She could almost hear Ravinia’s tinkling laughter and her melodious voice saying, “Come in, my dear. Enjoy!”
She smiled and made her way to the bathroom, which was almost as large as her own bedroom. She sat on the edge of the immense sunken tub and sniffed the various decanters of bubble bath until she found an herbal one that suited her. She ran warm water and drizzled in the fragrant liquid. When the tub was filled, she draped her robe across a silk jacquard footstool and stepped down into the deep bath.
As she leaned back, enjoying the luxurious warmth and the scents wafting up from the water, she noticed the hand-painted tiles that lined the alcove. Her eyes grew wide. Sloshing water, she sat up and peered closer, examining the subject matter of the paintings. Her eyes grew wider and her mouth gaped.
“Studying the art collection?”
Kale stood by the tub holding glasses and a wine bottle. A red hibiscus blossom was stuck in his shirt pocket. She felt herself blush from her toes up. Thank goodness she was covered to her shoulders with bubbles.
“Did you know those were here?” She inclined her head toward the tiles, where couples cavorted in a variety of settings.
He grinned and nodded. “They’ve been here for years. Ravinia felt that their acquisition was a tremendous coup for her. ‘The quintessence of early Italian erotica,’ I believe she said, by a truly inspired artisan.’ I forget his name.”
“He must have been inspired by the Kama Sutra.”
Kale laughed, poured the wine, and handed her a glass. “And what would a delicate young maiden such as yourself know about the Kama Sutra?”
Sunny smiled over the rim of her glass. “Quite a bit, actually. I studied it thoroughly at the age of thirteen.” She chuckled, remembering. “Penny Wilcox swiped a copy from her parents’ closet, and five of us spent all night at Mimi Nelson’s slumber party poring over every page. But these”—she gestured toward the brazenly explicit scenes— “make that volume look tame.”
He smiled. “When Foster and I used to spend summers here, we could hardly wait until Aunt Ravinia left the house. We’d make a mad dash for this place and stare at the tiles in awe. We even took pictures, although the proportions of some of the characters were overwhelming to a fifteen-year-old boy.”
Sunny sneaked a peek from the corner of her eye. “They are quite . . . well endowed, aren’t they? And extremely . . . agile.”
Kale threw back his head and laughed. Then he kicked off his shoes and sat down cross-legged beside the tub. “Sunny, exactly how experienced are you?”
“At what?”
He cocked his brow at her and looked amused.
“Sexually, you mean?” Trying to act blase, she shrugged. “Well, I’m not a virgin. But,” she added, waving her hand toward the erotica on the walls, “I’ve never done any of that stuff.” She waited the space of several galloping heartbeats before peering over the wineglass she was clutching in both hands. “Have you?”
He only chuckled.
Suddenly she felt like an absolute ninny, a naive sexual incompetent. Kale was a seasoned man of the world, one used to women with a level of expertise far beyond her own. Her know-how was limited to a couple of unsatisfying encounters and the information she’d picked up in books. She’d always been too busy working and too focused on her career to have much time for men. And darned nervous about health risks.
She was well informed, of course, and certainly didn’t consider herself a prude, but from her paltry experiences with lovemaking, she’d always wondered what all the hoopla was about. Now she had a strong hunch that she was about to find out.
He took the hibiscus blossom from his pocket and brushed the red petals along her cheek. Their gazes locked. His pupils had expanded to endless black depths of mysterious allure that beckoned her with a primal urge so potent that she ached.
“Shall we experiment together?” he asked, his voice flowing over her like sensual oils in a harem room.
She swallowed. “Maybe we could start with something simple.”
He handed her the hibiscus flower, stood, and reached for the buttons on his shirt.
Chapter Seven
Sunny sipped her wine and tried to act nonchalant as he undressed, tried to look everywhere except at him. But like a compass needle drawn to north, her eyes kept veering in his direction. He was tan, taut, and tumescent.
Her breath caught, and she quickly averted her gaze. One thing for sure—he could hold his own with any of the men romping on the tiles.
When he slid in behind her, his legs on either side of hers, she was so startled that her wine sloshed over the rim. “What are you doing?”
“I promised to wash your back.”
He picked up a large sponge, dipped it, and squeezed a leisurely streamer of trickles along her shoulders. Then the sponge swept sensuously in slow circles from nape to waist, spawning writhing little ripples up her spine.
Her head dropped back as she savored the strokes.
He nuzzled the side of her neck. “Feel good?” he asked.
“Mmmm.”
His tongue flicked the tip of her earlobe, then trailed downward and across the top of her shoulder. “I’d like to bathe you all over like a cat.”
“A cat?”
“Mmmm. With my tongue. All over.”
The smoldering tone of his words flashed warmth through her body. “Doesn’t sound very hygienic.”
He chuckled and snaked his free hand around to cup her breast. Her belly contracted and her nipples hardened. He slid the sponge down along the top of her thigh to her knee, then slowly upward along her inner thigh with a maddeningly seductive stroke. As it reached the juncture of her legs, she stiffened.
“Relax,” he murmured agains
t her ear.
“Easy for you to say.”
“Has it been a long time for you?”
She nodded.
“I’ll take care of you.”
The sponge continued its erotic intimacy, evoking unbelievable sensations that set her blood racing. At some point, his fingers replaced the sponge, stroking, stroking until she was mindless with sensual awareness.
Her fingers curled around the wineglass, tighter . . . tighter . . . tighter, until she thought it would burst in her hands. When she thought she could stand no more, great spasms of pleasure convulsed her, shattered her senses, and sent her soaring.
As the waves diminished, the glass tipped in her lax hands and wine spilled into the water. She fell back against him, boneless, deliciously sated.
“Relaxed now?” he asked.
“Like an overcooked noodle.”
He laughed softly and took the glass from her hand. “Ready for the next experiment?”
Languishing against his chest, she sighed. “Give me an hour or two.”
“I can’t wait that long, love.”
“Oh,” she said, realizing her selfishness, “I’m sorry. I forgot that you . . . you . . .”
“Don’t concern yourself. We have the rest of the night.”
He pulled the plug and set her wineglass aside. When he’d rinsed the bubbles from their bodies, he dried her slowly, stopping to kiss and caress as he completed his task. By the time he’d finished, she was aroused again. And his similar state was obvious.
He swept her into his arms, carried her to his room, and placed her on his bed. She looked at the ceiling and giggled. “I’m not sure I can do this with her watching.”
“The last vestige of my youth. I’d forgotten it was there.” He stood on the bed, ripped the old poster down, then wadded it and threw it in the trash. Stretching out beside her, he kissed her languidly and ran his hands over her body. “She isn’t the one that I’ve lain here night after night fantasizing about. She’s an also-ran compared to you, and I’d rather have the real thing.”
His kisses became more fervid, his tongue an instrument of sweet torture. “Touch me,” he said. And when she did, he became a wild man, taking her to heights of longing she didn’t know were possible.
At the moment when she couldn’t stand the tension a moment longer, he reached for a packet and knelt between her knees to roll on protection.
His gaze, so intense that it heated her skin and robbed her of thought, traveled over her, setting off flash fires as it went. His hands slid up her thighs until his thumbs tangled in her delta of curls. “Never have I felt about a woman as I feel about you. I want to bring you joy, and I want to see it happen.”
He entered her slowly and when she was full, he stroked and caressed her, murmuring love words and praises for her body until she caught the thrusting rhythm. Her legs circled his hips, and they joined the primitive dance together. Eyes locked, they grew hot and slick, moving and moaning, savoring and struggling until they were sucked into the raging winds of a cyclone and spiraled into a turbulent climax.
When the last tumultuous pulsation had passed, Kale rolled to one side and pulled her into his arms. “Talk to me, love. How do you feel?”
She. signed and snuggled against his damp body. “Like Dorothy just after she discovered the Land of Oz. You must be the wizard.”
“No, I’m the tin woodman. I’ve just found my heart.”
* * *
The telephone awakened them at eight o’clock the next morning.
“Tell them to go away,” Sunny mumbled, covering her head with a pillow.
Kale spoke into the receiver for a few moments, then lifted the pillow and kissed her cheek. “You’re not going to sleep the day away, are you?”
Squinting up at him with bleary eyes, she said, “I certainly didn’t get any sleep last night. Anyway, I don’t think I can move. I’m discovering that you have to be in training for”—she waved her hand feebly, then let it plop back on the bed— “Italian calisthenics.”
“How about a nice warm bath?”
She moaned and gave him a you’ve-got-to-be-kidding look. “That’s the way this thing got started.”
“Are you really sore, sweetheart?”
“Let’s put it this way: I wouldn’t want to go horseback riding today.”
He pulled the sheet away and kissed her bare bottom. “I’m sorry.”
“That’s not where I hurt.”
He gave her a wicked grin. “I can kiss there too.”
“Kale Hoaglin! It’s broad daylight!”
He laughed and flipped the sheet back over her. “Okay, okay, my inhibited Miss Sunshine.” He kissed her shoulder. “Go back to sleep. I’m going to pick up Ravinia’s convertible.”
“Did they find it already?”
“Yes. Not too far from where we had dinner. The officer who called said that some kids probably took it joyriding. At least it’s intact. I’m going to make coffee and get dressed. If you’re up before I get back, I’ll leave a mixture by the bathtub that should help.”
“What kind of mixture?” she mumbled, still drowsy.
“A cup of Epsom salts and a cup of baking soda. Soak in it for a few minutes, then allow your body to air-dry. It does wonders.”
“You certainly seem to know a lot about such things.”
He chuckled. “It’s the formula I use for jet lag. I’ve never tried it for anything else.”
Sunny tried to go back to sleep, but the bed smelled of Kale and their lovemaking. Memories of their night together brought the heat of a blush. She didn’t understand how he could call her inhibited after the things they’d done. Was there more?
She dozed, roused periodically by sounds from the shower and drawers being opened and closed. True sleep was impossible. Too much buzzed in her head. Her emotions tangled with her common sense until everything was a mishmash.
Sexual involvement, especially of the magnitude she’d shared with Kale, had turned her world upside down. He had awakened something within her that she hadn’t been aware of before, and she felt eons older and wiser. The concerns she’d had about a relationship with him before had only increased. Their paths were set in different directions, and she couldn’t perceive the possibility of any sort of long-term commitment between them. Or was there a way?
She finally decided to put aside the whole issue and simply enjoy the moment. No matter what happened between them from now on, she knew that she would never be the same again.
A few minutes after Kale left, she dragged herself to the bathroom and tried his remedy. The concoction must have worked, because shortly after she’d dressed and had coffee, she felt great.
* * *”
These didn’t come from the swimming pool, did they?” Estella asked as Sunny and Kale presented her with a big bouquet of red roses.
Sunny laughed. “I’m afraid those were a lost cause. The pool man fished them out and dumped them. Have you seen young Eddie today?”
Estella grinned from ear to ear. “Sure have. The nurses have brought him in for feedings. Isn’t he gorgeous? I can hardly wait to get home with him. That is, if my mother will let me handle him. I talked to my parents this morning, and Mama is anxious to get her hands on her first grandchild. They’re driving down tomorrow to take me back to San Antonio with them.”
“Oh, Estella,” Sunny said, throwing her arms around her friend, “I’m going to miss you so much.”
“It’s not as if it’s forever, roomie. I’m going to be there for only a few weeks, then Ed will be home and I’ll be back at work. Besides,” Estella said, cutting her eyes to Kale, “I get the feeling that you won’t be too lonely in that big house.”
Sunny felt her face blaze, and Estella chuckled. Was their new relationship that evident? “Still, I’ll miss you.”
“I’ll miss you too. I couldn’t ask for a better friend.” Estella squeezed her hand. “I want to thank you two again for being there last night. I don’t know wh
at would have happened if . . . Would you consider being Eddie’s godparents? It seems appropriate.”
Touched, Sunny smiled. “I’d be honored, roomie.”
“You betcha,” Kale said, kissing Estella’s cheek.
Estella dabbed at her eyes. “Look at me, I’m turning into a water faucet. Where are you two going this afternoon?”
“To the movie we missed last night, then I have an interview with a pair of Scorpions,” Sunny answered.
“We have an interview,” Kale interjected.
“Scorpions?”
“Members of another gang. Kale insists on going along.”
After chatting for a few minutes more, they said their good-byes to Estella and went to the theater to see a comedy-adventure that had been highly touted.
While they waited in line, Sunny noticed several people staring at them—at Kale in particular. She was used to people recognizing her, so she smiled and nodded, but when a very attractive redhead elbowed her equally attractive female companion, rolled her eyes, and made a fluttering gesture against her chest, Sunny bit her lip to keep from grinning. She felt an immense sense of pride. Indeed, he looked very handsome in his usual garb of khaki slacks and oxford-cloth shirt—pink again—with the sleeves rolled up over his tanned and finely muscled forearms. His rugged appeal surrounded him like a palpable aura, and she was as susceptible as the rest of the female population. Maybe more so. She was delighted that he seemed oblivious to everyone but her.
At the snack bar, they ordered soft drinks and a giant bucket of buttered popcorn. Sunny insisted that no movie experience was complete without a box of Junior Mints. Kale laughed and bought two.
Laden with their purchases, they found a quiet corner in the small cinema house, which was one of six in the mall complex. They fed each other popcorn from the bucket and candies from the boxes, teasing with lips and teeth and fingers and tongues. When the last kernel was gone, they held hands, their entwined fingers still slightly buttery, and laughed harder than the other patrons at the funny spots in the film. Laughter sprang easily from Sunny. She’d never felt so vibrantly alive, with her emotions so close to the surface. Everything seemed magnified. And wonderful.
