Against the Wind

by Gwynne Forster

  “Jordan!” she moaned. “Please.”

  “Be patient, baby. We’ve got all night.” He climbed into bed and pulled her to him, her skin to his skin from shoulders to knees. When her breast touched his massive chest, she shivered from the thrill of it, and her body jerked like a hand unexpectedly exposed to a flame. He placed his right hand behind her head, lowered his mouth to hers and ran his tongue around her lips, asking for entrance. She parted them for him and took his tongue into her mouth. He caressed and soothed and stroked, and she was a sapling in a storm when his fingers began their torrid dance at the threshold of her love nest.

  He felt her tense, but he didn’t stop, understanding her virginal hesitancy. Then he parted her delicate feminine folds and caressed her lightly, testing her acceptance of his lovemaking and she cried out, shifting closer to him, hugging him. He loved the currents that her soft hand sent speeding along his spine as she caressed him, though he felt her fingers tremble. He spread kisses all over her face, enjoying the feel of her delicate hands as they roamed over his back, adoring him.

  He opened his mouth above her lips and kissed her, unleashing his passion, letting her know the urgency of his need, the power of his desire for her.

  She threw her right leg across his hip. “Jordan, please. Honey, I can’t stand this. I ache deep inside. Can’t you…fill me? Fill me!”

  Her voice rose as her passion escalated, and he had to struggle to stifle his need to explode within her. He let his hand learn her body while he bent to her breast, kissing and sucking until she began to undulate wildly beneath him. He skimmed her inner thighs with his palms, wanting to heat her to boiling point, to make certain that he could bring her to the pinnacle and give her all that he’d promised.

  Out of control now, she screamed, “I want to burst. I need…”

  He swallowed her words, reached down, checked for her readiness and, finding what he wanted, raised himself on his left elbow and slid his right leg across her thighs. With his right hand still cupping her mound, he eased his left arm beneath her shoulders, lowered his mouth to her swollen breast and rose fully above her. “Stop! Oh, God, please stop!”

  He froze. Raising his head, he looked into her petrified, tearstained face.

  “For the love of God, sweetheart. What is it? What is the matter?” He rolled away and sat on the edge of the bed with his back to her, nearly in shock. One minute she had been begging him with every frantic twist of her hips to take her, and the next she was pushing him away, panic-stricken. His first thought was that he’d had torture aplenty, that he couldn’t take any more. Then he thought of her and of the pain that she must surely be suffering, turned and saw that she’d covered her face with her right forearm. Gently, he moved it so that he could look into her eyes. They were squeezed tight. Seeing that, he was glad he hadn’t moved away from the bed, deserting her.

  “Honey, can you tell me why you stopped me?” When she didn’t reply, he made up his mind to know the truth no matter how merciless he had to be. He was entitled to an answer, dammit, and he was going to get one. He took a deep breath and calmed himself.

  “What happened the minute I rose above you?”

  Tears from her tightly closed eyes rolled down her cheeks. Damn! He reached over and took her left hand in both of his. Be gentle, he told himself, but be firm.

  He tried a different approach. “Leslie, I’ve never had an experience like this before in my life, and I’m going to keep you here until you explain what happened, even if it takes until next week. If I don’t register my students, hell, if I don’t teach, I don’t care. What matters to me is us, you and me, and the burden you’re carrying that’s destroying what we could have together. Why are you afraid to let me make love with you? Why, Leslie? Don’t you trust me? Don’t you know that I’m just as vulnerable to you as you are to me?” He got up, walked over to the well stocked bar and got her a glass of club soda.

  “Sit up, sweetheart, and lean on me.” She did as he asked, clutching the sheet to cover her breast, and he held the glass while she sipped.

  “Talk to me, baby.” He tipped her chin up, forcing her to look into his eyes, eyes that he knew mirrored his anguish. Each of them tried to give the other a reassuring smile, and neither succeeded. He watched her fight the tears and grasped her hand to give her the strength that she seemed to need, all the while wondering what could have had such a damaging effect on her. He waited.

  As though touching him made it easier, she put her free hand on his arm and began to speak. “I worked as a clerk for a shipping company the summer after I graduated from college. I needed the job badly, and in my naiveté, I ignored my boss’s suggestive remarks. He started touching me, and I asked him to keep his hands off me, but he wouldn’t take me seriously. He said…he said…”

  Jordan squeezed her hand. “Go on.”

  “He made me work late one day, and about six o’clock when the office was empty except for us, he walked over to my desk and sat on the edge of it. He said ever since I’d gone to work there, he’d wanted to know…what it would be like with me and that he was pretty needy. I’d always thought him boorish and contemptuous of simple courtesies, but I stayed late as he asked, because I needed the job so badly. Anyway, his wife was in the hospital having their third child, and I had sense enough to know what that meant. My senses told me to get out of there, and I jumped up and started for the door, but he grabbed me. He had me on the floor and was on top of me when I remembered a trick Pop Haynes taught me. I applied it and sent him into shock long enough to get away. Mom and Pop Haynes insisted that I bring charges against him, and I did.

  “His lawyer tried to bargain with me, claiming that no jury would believe me. But the man had raped two of his female employees, both white, and threatened them into silence. When they read about the trial in the newspaper, they volunteered to witness for me, and the jury found him guilty.

  “His lawyer had interrogated me for days, claiming that I had led the man to think I wanted him. My own lawyer told me I was lucky, that he didn’t believe a man deserved a conviction for something like that. He hadn’t believed me, and the judge hadn’t shown much interest until those women came to my defense. You can’t imagine the humiliation of that trial.”

  “Was that man white?”

  She nodded. “Yes.”

  Jordan said nothing, but he understood more than she’d told him. For several minutes, he didn’t trust himself to speak, but rocked her gently, stroking her, reassuring her as best he could, as the magnitude of her near tragedy intensified his mounting furor. With one hand at the back of her head and the other cradling her shoulder, he told her gently, “You’ve overcome so much. I’m humbled.”

  “You don’t think I led him on? You’re not, not ashamed of me, I mean—”

  He interrupted her, more sharply than he’d intended. “Why should I be ashamed of you? That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. You’re the victim, not the offender. I’m proud of you and proud that I’m the man to whom you’ve given your trust.” He wanted to ask her why she still hadn’t told him the man’s name, but decided she didn’t need any pressure at the moment. So he wouldn’t ask.

  “You testified in court for how many days?”

  “Four. But the worst of it was that I had to take a physical examination to ensure the conviction. It was humiliating for strangers to have such personal information about me.”

  “How do you feel right now?” He held her a little closer, his lips barely grazing the top of her head. “Are you afraid?” He wanted to get the conversation back to their intimacy, and he knew it would be disastrous to linger over that calamitous experience. But he didn’t want to give the impression of minimizing its importance, either.

  “Talk to me, sweetheart. Don’t you know that I’ll protect you, even from my own need for you?”

  “I know.” She smiled, and he released his breath, unaware until then that he’d been holding it. She slipped her arms around his waist a
nd leaned into his bare chest. Then she began to giggle, and he shifted her position to look into her face, his first thought being that she’d become hysterical.

  But her face held a broad grin. “Do you know we’re both sitting here without a stitch of clothing?” He smiled. Though mirth was not what he felt, he figured that a little humor right then wouldn’t hurt.

  “Then let’s get in bed. When I take off all of my clothes, I’m either going to swim, take a shower or go to bed. And right now, I want to go to bed and take you with me.”

  “Don’t you usually…you know?”

  Then he did laugh. “Leslie, I can make love in the shower, in the bed and in the water. On the few occasions that I’ve done it anywhere else, I was in too big a hurry to take off anything.”

  Time to stop fooling around, lest he lose her. He focused a somber gaze on her, giving her an open, unprotected glimpse into his longing and frustration. She’d curled into the bosom of his embrace, and he wondered if he was back to square one. Maybe. But he wasn’t ready to give up.

  He caressed her forehead, and she let him. “Leslie, did you have your eyes closed when I attempted to cover you with my body?” When she didn’t respond, he persisted with the question.

  “Yes.”

  She had relived the horror, the tenor of that long ago evening.

  The man above her had no longer been the one so dear to her, but the brute who’d almost taken her against her will. She had wanted so badly to come alive in Jordan’s arms, to know at last what it was like to have a man love her. But that repulsive ordeal of five years earlier had returned to haunt her, an ominous cloud. She vowed that she wouldn’t let it deprive her of what might be the only joy she’d ever know with this man. She just wouldn’t.

  He spoke in a gentle but firm voice. “Leslie, if we separate right now, it’s the end. I ache, Leslie. I hurt. And it isn’t only physical pain, though there’s that. I love you. I have never loved another woman the way I love you, and I’ve never needed one like I need you. But if it’s what you want, we’ll agree that my bringing you here was a mistake. We can remain friends. It’s up to you.”

  Her silence must have fueled anxiety in him, for he urged, “Talk to me, Leslie. I don’t have much more to give.”

  She pushed aside her misgivings and looked him in the eye. “I would as soon hurt myself, Jordan, as hurt you.”

  He shook his head, telling her it wasn’t enough. “I need the answer to two questions, Leslie. Tell me in plain words, what do you feel for me?”

  She didn’t hesitate. “I love you. I’ve loved you for months.”

  As though careful not to appear threatening, he stroked her cheek with the back of his hand and asked the other question. “Do you want me to make love with you? Here? We can’t continue as we have been. This is it. Tell me.”

  He might as well know that, although what she’d just experienced might have drained her emotionally, the fire hadn’t gone out of her. “I want us to make love right now, Jordan, but you stop dictating to me and giving me ultimatums.”

  He stared at her for a second, then threw his head back and laughed uproariously. This was a funny way for them to say that they loved each other, barely touching, though there was a sweetness about it And it was even more comical that she should choose this moment to tell him off. But he got her point. She had her fire back, and she was ready for him.

  Chapter Eleven

  Jordan crawled onto the bed, easing her on to her back and stroking her long, enticing neck as he pulled her to him. “Kiss me?”

  He’d never asked her before. She parted her lips and lifted her face to his. He began the kiss as an expression of what he felt, caring, tenderness, but it rapidly exploded into seething passion. His body pitched forward, imitating the act of love, and she curled into him, opening her mouth wider for more of him, her nails scoring his flesh and her nipples rock hard against his chest. Quickly, he harnessed his fervor and pulled back, all the while teasing and taunting her, plunging her further into a whirlpool of feverish desire.

  “I love you, Leslie. Tell me right now that you trust me, that you know I’ll take care of you.”

  “Yes. Yes. Just love me. Love me. I love you so much. So much!” Her voice, her body begged for action, but he wanted to give her everything, to make certain that she was fulfilled and, for that, he needed to bring her to fever pitch. Instinctively, he knew, she ran her hands down his long back and gripped his hard buttocks in an aggressive demand that surprised him Impatient now, she found him and began to stroke him, but he jerked away. Nearly trembling from the force of the need she’d intensified in him, he tried to find something else to occupy his mind. But he could think only of her, so he corralled his thoughts and methodically kissed every inch of her, all but that sweet center, that gate of heaven that he so longed to enter. She squirmed, urging him with her cries and the dance of her hips, but he denied her. He went back to her breast, kissing and suckling while his educated fingers danced on the nub of her passion. She cried out, begging him for release.

  “Honey, I’ll die if you don’t do something to me.”

  He pressed his rigid instrument of love against her mound and let his tongue frolic in her mouth, loving her, tantalizing her.

  She reached for him. “Get in me. In me!”

  He took a minute to protect her. “All right, sweetheart, but I want you to look at me. Open your eyes and keep them open. I want you to know that it’s me, Leslie. I want you to know that you’re in the arms of the man you love. Look at me, baby. Don’t close your eyes! It’s me holding you, and it will be me inside of you.” He had never stopped caressing her and, as the signal of her readiness flowed over his finger, he knew that he had to move. She gazed at him expectantly as he rose above her.

  “Now, sweetheart. Now. This is not something that I do to you, love; it’s something that we do together. Raise your knees a bit, and let me in.”

  She nodded, still wide-eyed. Suddenly she smiled at him, and his heart kicked over.

  “Ahhh, sweetheart, I love you so!” He took her hand and clasped it around him. She gasped, but she didn’t turn loose. He tried not to think that she was actually holding him in her fingers, as he guided her hand. When at long last he touched her portal, she stiffened.

  “Relax, honey, and give yourself to me, just like I’m giving myself to you.” He reached the barrier. “This is the most important thing that can happen to us, Leslie. But I have to hurt you now. I hate it, but it will only hurt just this once.”

  Her gaze didn’t waver. “I know it’s supposed to hurt.” When he didn’t press as fast or as hard as she thought he should have, she raised her hips to force his entry and experienced an excruciating flash of pain. She squeezed her eyes shut to stop the tears.

  “Don’t, baby. It’ll be over in a minute. Open your eyes.” He pushed gently, and she clutched at him, wrapping her legs around his hips and pushing herself up to him, heedless of the pain. Tears of joy streamed from her eyes when, at last, she held him within her body.

  He could hardly stand it. If he had known what awaited him, he would have gone mad wanting it. Almost immediately, he felt the sweet quivering of her hot velvet sheath. Forget it, he told himself. This is not for you. It’s for her. Get hold of yourself.

  “Are you all right, sweetheart?” He kissed the tears that lingered at the corners of her wide brown eyes. The smile that fairly split her face told him everything. She nodded, but he hesitated, because he had to be sure.

  She looked at him quizzically. “Who is supposed to move, me or you?” Next week, he would laugh like hell about that. Anxious to get started, was she? He merely grinned.

  “Both of us, sweetheart. Both of us.” And he began a gentle thrust.

  She quickly caught his rhythm and, as he increased the pace, she kissed him wantonly, letting herself flow with the passion that he excited in her. He gloried in her passionate movements beneath him, meeting his thrusts as if they’d been making love forever.
She locked her long sleek legs around him, grasping his buttocks with her hands, and her rhythmic spasms gripped him while they rippled through her body. He wanted her to reach the moon, and he thrust, teased and rotated his hips to see that she got there. But he was running out of time. The throbbing had begun. Her approaching climax squeezed and pinched him, sucking him in like quicksand. He had wanted to give her pleasure she’d remember forever, to remove any doubt that she belonged to him. But it was getting to him. He thrust powerfully again and again, as she called his name and let him know the indescribable joy of it. Control. He wanted more control so that he could give her everything. But he’d never experienced anything like the electrifying power of her passion, and as she cried out, “Oh, Jordan. Jordan. I love you. I love you,” he tumbled with her into the sweet, mindless oblivion of ecstasy.

  When he was finally able to get his bearings, he levered himself to rest on his forearms and looked down at her. He wanted to smile, but he couldn’t. She had shaken him to the very depths of his being. He wanted to tell her how he felt, but he couldn’t describe it. Her face bore one enormous question mark but, for once, she seemed tongue-tied. They simply looked at each other, drowning in each other, but unable to articulate their feelings. He saw tears glistening in her eyes and, without speaking, he bent forward and kissed her mouth, her eyes, her whole face. As though sensing that the intensity of his emotions matched her own, she curled into him and kissed him feverishly. He rolled to his side then, holding her tightly to him, while still buried deep within her. She had taken him out of himself, moved him beyond words.