It was a rare moment for Kit, but she couldn’t find her voice. She had a little difficulty squaring the Bill McNeil she knew with the Bill McNeil who had presented Janet with an image of unadulterated devotion. It was obvious he hadn’t told the truth and now he had Janet seeing him as Prince Charming on a white charger. Oh well, so what if he came out looking like the guy in the white hat. Why not? In a way she admired him for not making mama the heavy in the drama. Violet McNeil was one in a long line of mamas who had trouble coming to terms with the notion that their sons grew up. You didn’t have to be Jewish to be a Jewish mother. Truth to tell, except for her problem with weaning, she could really be quite a nice old lady. Sweet, even … But, also no question, murder on prospective daughters-in-law …
Kit was brought out of her reverie when she heard Janet saying, “I suppose I found it all so surprising because of the things you’d said about him.”
“Like what?”
“That he was a rat, for example. Well, he isn’t, Kit. He’s a sensitive person—”
“Yeah … well, sometimes I have a quaint way of putting things. Sure, you’re right, Bill’s a really nice guy. I just get a little sore at him from time to time.”
“Why, Kit?”
To hide the fact that he hurt me once and that I’m scared silly of giving him or anyone else an opportunity to do it again … “I don’t know … maybe it’s because I’ve known him for so long I forget he’s not part of the plumbing fixtures. It’s only with a friend like that you can take out your frustrations. Enough. Let’s get back to you. Now, what’s the problem?”
“Well, as I told you, Bill asked me out this Saturday but I said I couldn’t because I had to go home—”
“But the reason for that is gone, since you got up enough steam to take the initiative. So why not stay?”
“I don’t know … something else tells me I should see my folks—”
“Really? And what’s this something else?”
“My instincts, I guess, and something else … After Bill told me how suddenly his father died I got frightened … it was almost like a warning signal—”
“For God’s sake, Janet, don’t take everything as though it were a sign from heaven. I’m beginning to think you’re more afraid of seeing Bill than this fate you’re always so worried about.”
“How can you say that when you know how I feel about him—?”
“I know how you feel, and I suspect that’s why you’re afraid.”
“Honestly, Kit, that doesn’t make any sense.”
“I think it does. You want him and you know he’s attracted to you, but you’re afraid to put out because you want a commitment. The problem is that you’re not in junior high, waiting for some guy to pin you before you’ll let him hold your hand. When you play with grownups you wind up in bed, and take the chance that it’s either the beginning or the end of a glorious affair. You’re a big girl, Janet, time you learned you can’t have it both ways.”
Startling though it was, Kit had read it right. Yes, she was afraid that Bill would take her to bed once and then brush her off. Kit had warned her that Bill majored in one-nighters.
“So what do I do now?”
“That’s up to you, baby. Just be sure you understand that if you have an affair with Bill it’s not likely to be ‘and they lived happily ever after.’ He doesn’t allow himself to become involved. When a girl gets too palsy-walsy he backs off. So don’t say I didn’t warn you if and when that happens. On the other hand, you’re going to have to take that plunge eventually, whether it’s with Bill or someone else, and as long as you remember that Bill is a confirmed bachelor you couldn’t choose anyone better. He’s a decent guy and lots of fun but you’ll have to remember to play it cool, take it as a terrific experience and be willing to walk away saying it was worth the trip.”
Kit knew even as she was speaking how ridiculous all that was. Janet was in love and a woman in love never walked away without scars. Well … at least she had been warned. (Which was more than anybody had done for her.)
There was a long silence. Then Janet asked, “Kit, I’d love to see Bill but what can I do now? I told him I was going home.”
“Phone tomorrow and say you changed your mind. It’s still a woman’s adorable prerogative.”
CHAPTER FIVE
BILL WAS HAPPIER THAN he sounded when she called the next morning. “I’m glad you decided to stay. Now, what would you like to do?”
Go to the moon with you. “Whatever you feel like.”
I feel like taking you to bed. “Do you like Mama Leone’s?”
I could skip dinner. “That sounds wonderful.”
“Great, I’ll pick you up at eight.” God, he thought, now I’m doing rhymes….
By eight o’clock Janet was a nervous wreck. In the last hour she had changed five times and was still not sure she was wearing the right thing. Should she dress to look demure or sophisticated? She finally settled for demure and now wore a pale lilac chiffon that enhanced the delicate coloring of her skin and brought out the violet in her eyes. She was studying herself in the mirror when the phone rang. He was in the lobby waiting for her. She grabbed her purse and wrap and ran to the elevator.
She had, apparently, guessed right. When he saw her coming toward him his broad smile told how much he approved. He took her by the arm and before she knew it they were sitting side by side in a taxi.
At Mama Leone’s the maître d’ showed them to a quiet corner. The dinner was marvelous although neither ate much. The conversation was light, nothing of consequence. As they sat across from each other in the soft candlelight they were both thinking only of what lay ahead of them that evening. Bill was eager to get dinner over with and it was difficult to keep himself from simply taking her by the hand and walking out of the restaurant before they’d finished their meal. As for Janet, it seemed to her there was now no doubt that he’d take her home to his apartment. It would be a hugely important night to her. It would be the first time she’d made love to Bill McNeil. The first time she’d made love to anyone….
Once again they were in a taxi, only now he held her hand. Just that simple gesture made her, God help her, turn to jelly.
“Where would you like to go? There’s a place on 94th that plays lovely music.”
“If you like.”
“Actually, I prefer my place.”
“I think I would too.”
The rest of the ride passed in silence. As they entered Bill’s building she was conscious only of the warm pressure of his hand on hers. She wasn’t aware of the echoes of voices and street noises, of the doorman who opened the door for them or the click of her footsteps across the marble floor on the way to the elevator. She snapped out of it only when she stood inside Bill’s apartment.
It was startling, spacious and masculinely furnished. The walls of the living room were a deep blue. An extraordinary array of modern art hung over the leather sofa that flanked one wall, and an enormous glass and brass coffee table sat on a plush carpet the color of autumn leaves. There were two large chairs in plaid corduroy on either side of the fireplace, and bookshelves with a built-in stereo and bar occupied the remaining wall. The dining room was austerely but appropriately furnished and it looked out onto a balcony from which could be seen an expansive view …
Janet turned from the sight of the city lights when she heard the stereo.
“Champagne okay?” Bill asked.
She laughed. “Do you think I should? You wouldn’t want to ruin another suit.”
He looked very serious. “I’ll take the risk if you will.”
As he handed her a glass he said, “I’m glad you changed your mind about not going home this weekend.”
“So am I.” Wonderful boring understatement, she thought.
There was a moment of awkward silence. More out of embarrassment than curiosity she wandered across the room to look at the modern paintings. She had taken the last drop of her champagne when Bill was beside he
r pouring more into her glass. She watched as the bubbles danced, then looked up at him. Only a month ago she had been sure she would never see him again. If this was a dream, she didn’t want to wake up.
Taking the glass from her hand, he placed it on the table and took her in his arms. He kissed her gently and then with more urgency, and when he sensed her response his tongue separated her lips. Just when Janet thought she couldn’t stand it anymore he took her up in his arms and carried her back to the bedroom.
As he set her down in the darkened room he stood for a moment with his hands cupping her face, taking in each detail in the soft illumination cast by the city lights outside.
Janet was acutely aware of the sound of her own breathing, and his. He traced the outline of her nose, eyes, forehead, the nape of her neck, until his fingers found the first button of the chiffon bodice. He kissed her while his hands slowly ventured downward until the front of her dress was open. He slid it from her shoulders to the plush carpeted floor. He unfastened the lace bra and slipped it over her arms, then held her rounded breasts and brushed her nipples first with his fingers and then with his lips and tongue. Janet gasped at the sensation, and from there on it was a kaleidoscope in slow motion. She felt, she was pleased to discover, no shame standing nude before him.
When he had undressed he held her against him, then picked her up and carried her to bed. He lay facing her, kissing her gently, caressing every contour of her body. Without words he guided her hand down to his groin and placed his hand over hers for a moment, moving it slowly up and down until Janet felt him harden and grow under her fingers. His tongue played over her lips, probed to meet hers. The taste of her was like honey. She heard the sigh of her breathing, the soft moan as his fingers teased down the front of her body and between her legs, pushing them apart. Then he moved on top of her and slowly began putting himself inside, pushing deeper and deeper still until he momentarily halted. She did not sense his uncertainty when he realized she was a virgin. Should he stop? Could he withdraw? No, not now … not now … Gently he moved forward … a muffled cry … a sharp pain for her, and then incredible release. For a moment neither moved. Then she arched her back to receive him. He responded, thrusting faster and faster until an explosion seemed to build inside her and erupted …
He lay still on top of her, their moist bodies clinging together. She never wanted this moment to end. His breathing still heavy, he kissed her and said almost in a whisper, “Sweet Janet, lovely sweet Janet…” then rolled over on his back. They lay there for a while, holding hands. The silence was broken only when Bill said, “I wish I had known, Janet. I wish you had told me before.”
“And if I had, would you have still wanted me?” she responded contentedly.
“Oh yes, but I would have handled it differently.”
“But I wouldn’t have wanted you to. I love you, Bill—” The moment she’d said it, Kit’s warning sounded in her head. She knew she’d made a bad error.
He released her hand and said, “How about some champagne?”
She merely nodded, too alarmed by her blunder to trust her voice.
He got out of bed, slipped into his robe and left the room.
Alone, she looked up at the ceiling. Well, the words couldn’t be retracted. As she got out of bed she looked down at the bloodstained sheet. It didn’t matter … Kit had said that Bill would take her to the moon and he had, she thought as she went to the bathroom to wash.
When she returned, Bill stood at the side of the bed, holding a bottle of champagne and two glasses. Suddenly she felt ashamed and began to dress.
“Hey, what do you think you’re doing?”
Without looking at him she answered in a half-whisper, “I think I should leave.”
Her expression caught him off balance. If he had an ounce of brains he’d let her go, but something about her wouldn’t let him.
“Why do you want to?”
Taking a deep breath, she said, “I just think it’s best. Really, Bill.”
“What do you suppose I’m going to do? Put you in a taxi and let you go home alone?” Even as he heard his words he was mildly shocked. He’d never asked a girl to stay. But then, he’d never met anyone quite like Janet Stevens, and she’d zeroed in on him, scored on him, if you please, whether he liked it or not. Exactly what he felt for her at this moment he wouldn’t question. He only knew that he wanted her to be with him because he felt a loneliness inside he’d never known, or admitted, before. He wished she hadn’t told him she loved him … well, later he’d put all the pieces together again. For now … “Please stay, Janet …”
She gave him a searching look, then picked up her long satin slip and put it on to cover her nakedness. Bill watched her in the light from the bedside lamp. She seemed so small, so fragile, vulnerable. There wasn’t another girl he knew who would have covered herself. She stood in front of him, her eyes lowered, and it took all his discipline not to take her off to bed again. Instead he turned to the bottle of wine and poured a glass for each of them. He held out his hand and she went to him. They sat on the edge of the bed and sipped at their glasses.
Janet averted her eyes from the stained sheet. Strange thing to be thinking about at this moment … She sipped once more, then drained the glass. “Awfully good champagne,” she said, handing him the glass to be refilled. The wine began to work its way, and she felt more confident as they sat beside each other making easy conversation in low voices. So what if she had told him she loved him? He had become aloof, reacting exactly as Kit had predicted but—no, not quite. And now he was smiling at her, and he hadn’t given her a brush-off and sent her home after her blunder, if it was a blunder … You’re wrong, Kit, and he’s no rat. He’s a very nice person who simply doesn’t want to become too involved. And—oh God, it would be too painful not to have your love returned. She shut out the thought, held out the glass to him. “Don’t mind if I do.”
“Do you think you should, Janet?” Again he was shocked by the feeling of protectiveness she’d roused in him. Lord, how many girls he’d encouraged to get high just to free them of inhibitions. But Janet? This had been her first time and she’d given herself so … openly. No fakery, no pretense. Totally honest … It meant more to him than he would admit …
“Do you mind?” she said, still holding her glass out to him.
“No, of course not. But you know this stuff isn’t ginger ale.”
“So-o-o? I happen to be very fond of champagne. Even if I do spill it …”
He refilled the glass and watched in surprise as she drained it. A tiny smile played around her lips and eyes and then became a low laugh as she looked first at him and then at the bed. She stood unsteadily and took his hand in hers. “I’d like to change the sheet … if you don’t mind … think it’s only fair. I’m very neat, you know.”
“Okay, if that’s what you’d like—” He was beginning to smile now too.
“Thass what I’d like,” she said, giggling as she pulled him to his feet.
Where were the sheets? he wondered. His housekeeper took care of that department.
“Why are you just standing there? Let’s get the sheets … please.”
“I would, but I don’t know where they are.”
“You’re just saying that.”
“No, really.”
“All right … let’s go find ’em … okay?”
“No, you stay. I’ll find—”
“No, no, no … we’ll do this together like buddies.”
They were both laughing as Bill steadied her and they went down the narrow hall to search the cupboard. He opened one louvered door after another. Damn it, imagine living in a place and not knowing where the linens were?
“Aha. I think we stumbled onto something here,” Janet announced. She reached into a cupboard for the sheets and back they trudged to the bedroom.
Pixilated as she was, somehow Janet managed to strip off the bottom sheet.
“Okay,” she said, “you stand on the
other side and tuck the thing under.”
Together they achieved the task. It wouldn’t have passed muster in the army, but Janet patted the bed admiringly and said, “Now isn’t that neat. I tole you … Boy, I’m really dizzy.” Having made that pronouncement, she flopped down on the rumpled sheet.
Bill got out of his robe and climbed in beside her to hold her close.
She responded eagerly, kissing him without restraint, running her hands along his smooth hard body and pressing him to her. Then she was on her back, and he was on top of her.
This time he thrust deeply, rotating gently. Between kisses she said again, “I love you, Bill McNeil,” and added, “What’s more, I don’t care if you know it. I’m not supposed to tell you, but I love you love you love you.”
He silenced her by putting his mouth firmly over hers.
She clutched at the pillows beside her head as she began to buck against him, feeling as if she was on a roller coaster going up to the highest peak. Faster, faster … At the highest point she whispered, “Don’t let it stop.” And then she passed out.
He leaned on his elbow and looked at her. God, she was beautiful. The thick lashes almost touched her cheeks. He smiled, thinking what a curious evening this had been. He’d had his share, more than his share, of sexual encounters, but never anything like this. He laughed softly to himself. He’d never forget how she’d looked trying to get that sheet on, and no one had ever felt so good in his arms. There was nothing contrived or studied or shopworn about this lady. Maybe that was what intrigued him … well, partly anyway. She had never been touched and, without vanity, he was happy he had been the first. There was something very special about that, even if it seemed an old-fashioned notion. Strange, the effect she had on him. He had resented it when she first said she loved him, but suddenly he didn’t feel threatened by it. In fact he liked the feeling that he wasn’t just another stud male servicing a female. That’s what all his sex had amounted to. Just performing. Proving he could outscrew, literally and figuratively, the competition. Women compared, kept score who was the best in bed. They’d told him so.
Come Pour the Wine Page 9
