“Oh no, please. I don’t want to be a bother.” Hope allowed herself to be led to the booth in the back corner of the homey restaurant.
“No bother, now. You just sit and get your bearings. Lucy told me what happened at the office. Jack’s got a big mouth. I don’t think I got your name,” he said casually as the coffee and bun were delivered.
Hope waited until the waitress left. “My name’s Hope. Hope Parsons.” She saw no reason to lie.
He looked at her over the top of his glasses. “So what’s your interest in our dead girl, Hope? You’re not a reporter.”
“Oh no, sir.” She took a sip of coffee. She told him the story she and Nico concocted about a missing sister involved in drugs. “We heard about it when we stopped for the night and I had to check it out. My fiancé thinks I’m crazy. She wouldn’t come this far from the city, but I couldn’t live with myself if…” Hope looked down in her lap. She was shaking. She wasn’t good at lying and she was sure he would notice. She felt his hand on her shoulder.
“Take it easy there. You’re fiancé’s got a point about her being this far from the city, but I can see your side, too. If somebody important to me was missing… Tell me, was your sister sick? Other than the drugs, I mean.”
“I don’t know. She wasn’t the last time I saw her, but…”
He took a folder from the seat and set it on the table. “Look, I have a picture here, but you might want to come back to the office where you can look at it in private. It’s not pretty.”
“No, Sam, please. I’ll look at it now. I need to know.”
Sam spread the folder flat, turned the glossy photo toward her and slid it across the table.
Hope gasped and her hand flew to her mouth, not at the picture of the dead woman, it wasn’t Faith, but at the photo that still remained in the folder.
It was of a scrap of cookbook, just as Jack Johnson had said and across it in blurred ink:
Help me - Hope
“It’s not her,” she whispered, “Please put it away.”
“I’m real sorry you had to see that, ma’am.”
“What will happen to her? If no one identifies her, I mean.”
“We’ll bury her here, in the town cemetery. We’ll give her a proper funeral. She isn’t the first lost soul this town’s cared for, poor thing.”
“You’re good people, a good town.” At least in death the poor girl would have people who cared.
“Yeah, for the most part. Got our troubles same as everybody else, but when push comes to shove, we try to do what’s right. Suppose I ought to tell you, so you don’t get shook if you hear it. We call her Hope, because of something we found in her pocket. It’s a good name. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Mind? I’m pleased to share my name with her. Maybe she’ll find its meaning in Heaven.”
“I’d like to think so, ma’am. I surely would.”
Hope finished her coffee and listened politely as Sam told her a little about the town. She knew he wanted her calm before getting behind the wheel and she was grateful. They shook again and he escorted her to the car. Two men jumped up to open the café door and Sam held the car door for her.
“Thank you, Sam.” She could get used to this kind of attention. “My fiancé and I will probably spend another night here. What time does Carley’s close?”
“7:30 sharp. Get here by seven or you don’t get fed. I’m afraid we’re not much for night life around here. If you’re looking for a nice dinner, though, you might try the Madison Lodge. It’s a Bed and Breakfast out on Madison Hill. Jilly does dinner on Friday and Saturday. Probably not what you’re used to, but it’s what serves as fancy around here.”
Hope laughed, flattered. “You’d be surprised at what I’m used to. Good food and good company is fancy enough. Thanks for your time, Sam. Your kindness is most welcome.”
Sam cocked his head, thought for a moment and then shook it. “Seems like I’ve heard that phrase before. You take care now. I’m sorry about your sister, but I’m glad our girl isn’t yours.”
“Thanks again, Sam.”
*****
Nico paced around the room. He kept glaring at the drapes pulled tightly across the windows as if sheer will could make the day turn to night.
Hope had left at seven forty-five. It was now what? Ten past ten. It couldn’t be. A half hour ago it was five past ten and an hour before that it was ten on the dot. He had an excellent sense of both time and direction. He knew she’d been gone much longer than two hours. He checked the second hand. It ticked away with methodical slowness. She should be back by now. He should have made her take his cell phone. She was out there alone and helpless and he was stuck here until dark. He debated going after her, but the debate was fleeting. Contrary to popular belief and the use of the word by the Paenitentia as a euphemism, he wouldn’t fry in the sun, but its rays would sicken him to the point where he could barely move, making him as useless as he was right now.
If her sister, Faith, was the unidentified victim, Grace would be crushed and with her overdeveloped sense of responsibility she’d carry the guilt forever. On one level she recognized her father’s abuse and knew his house was not a healthy place, but on another level she felt Faith should never have left, should never had made her escape. She already thought it was her fault that Faith ran away.
He stretched out on the bed in the same position he was in earlier, hands behind his head, ankles crossed, when he watched her admire herself in the mirror. How could she doubt her beauty. She was perfection and he was her beast. When she saw what he was, knew him for what he’d been, why would she stay?
The sound of the key in the door had him off the bed with his hands fisted at his side. Hope was there and laughing. He wasn’t sure whether she read the look on his face, his body language or his own foolish thoughts.
“Oh you stupid, stupid man. Why would I leave? The poor tortured girl isn’t my sister. She’s being given a decent burial by the town. I met a very nice man, the Chief of Police as a matter of fact, who told me where we can go tonight for dinner. It’s called The Madison Lodge or we can have breakfast at Carley’s Café as long as our order is in by seven. Get there by seven or you don’t get fed.”
“I’m very happy the victim was not your sister. When did you learn this amazing news? Eight? Eight fifteen? And after learning such joyous news? Did you stop and do some shopping in this quaint little village while I was trapped in this avocado dungeon? What did you buy? A sunhat perhaps? A little plastic visor with Perryville printed across the bill? Or perhaps a little box to keep your trinkets in? Did you check out all of the fine dining spots this town has to offer with your charming new friend…” Nico rattled on.
Hope almost said she was sorry, imagined Grace’s pinch, and thought of a better response. She crossed the short distance between them, threw her arms around his neck and kissed him.
“That was me curing Dov and Col Syndrome,” she said when she stepped away. “If you were worried about me, there are better ways to show it.”
Nico slumped onto the bed. He looked miserable. “You’re right, of course. I’m not used to being the one left behind while someone else takes action. When you weren’t back on time, I began to envision horrible things and there was nothing I could do to help. I was worried and it’s not a feeling that sits well with me.”
“You were supposed to be sleeping.”
“How could you think I would sleep when the woman I love is out there alone doing what may be the hardest thing in her life. What if the victim had been your sister? You would have been alone. Who would have held you, comforted you, given you strength? Why are you smiling like that? There’s nothing funny about it.”
Hope was grinning like a fool. “Do you mean it? Of course you mean it. You wouldn’t have said it if you didn’t.”
“Said what?”
“The woman you love. You said that. I’m the woman you love.”
Nico looked confused. “What is so remarkable
about this?”
“You never said it before.”
“I thought you knew. You seem to know everything else that’s in my head.”
“I see wants, needs. I don’t see reasons. A man wants a drink of water. I see that. I don’t see whether he’s thirsty or just wants to swallow his pills. I saw your want and need to have…” She could feel herself blushing and looked down at her shoes. “…sex.”
And then she saw his shoes toe to toe with hers. He lifted her chin until she was looking in his eyes.
“What you saw wasn’t my need for sex. What you saw was my want, my need to make love to you, to worship your body with my hands and lips. I’ve had sex. It never made me feel like this.”
He kissed her, deeply, passionately, his tongue probing and caressing the inside of her mouth, fluttering across her neck, her eyes, and she kissed him back. The images flowing through her mind took on a whole new meaning and she wanted to grant all his wishes and desires, but a part of her was still afraid.
“Are you ready, my precious Hope?”
“I’m ready.”
Chapter 21
Hope stood in the bathroom door and stared at Nico standing across the room fully clothed. Only his shoes and socks were gone.
“I thought…”
Nico put his finger to his lips and said softly, “Don’t think. Don’t speak. Just let me look at you.”
She stood there, hands to her sides, not knowing what else to do. She thought he might be disappointed she wore her white gown, buttoned up and tied tightly at the neck. She’d tried the one Grace had snuck into her bag, but she couldn’t do it, didn’t want to add to her nervousness. Wearing it, she felt too naked and exposed. The white gown was a touchstone of familiarity, of security, a bastion against the chaos raging in her body and her mind. Nico stared until her heart began to tremble and then he smiled.
“You are the woman of my dreams,” he said a little breathlessly.
This was not the place he would have chosen for her first time. She deserved plush carpets, fine furnishings, champagne served in crystal and silken sheets on her bed. She had no idea how beautiful she was standing there in that snowy gown, quietly offering herself to him. She deserved so much better and yet she had chosen him.
She smiled nervously and went to the bed to turn down the covers.
“Wait.”
She looked up and he was holding out his hand.
“Come to me, Hope.”
She crossed the room and reached out as if seeking support. He held her hands in his and he kissed her as he had so many times before, softly, gently, until she was kissing him back and the tension left her shoulders and arms. Only then, did he pull her into his embrace. Her tongue danced with his and her heart beat faster and her body grew warmer with need.
She didn’t flinch when he drew his body slightly away and slipped his hand along her side up her breast, but leaned into it. She felt her nipple pucker and stiffen against the soft material of her gown and she moaned softly into his mouth. His other hand moved to her other breast and another moan escaped. His hands kneaded and prodded and he groaned with pleasure and need. Her head rolled back and he kissed her exposed neck, sending little shocks of fiery delight through her as he nipped and licked his way down to the top of her gown.
With one hand wrapped securely around her waist and the other gently pushing her shoulder, he bent her back, forcing her breasts forward and up. His mouth found her aching point and he suckled her through the cotton. She gasped and he smiled. His mouth became more aggressive and he used his teeth, gently biting down. Then sucking a tip of fabric into his mouth, he used his teeth to rub it over the swollen and tender nipple.
And through it all, her hands moved over his body, his back, his shoulders, his hair. Her body still quivered, not with apprehension, but with anticipation. Until his fingers tugged at the strings of the bow at her neck. She stiffened.
“What is it, precious?” Nico’s voice had deepened.
Hope looked to the bed. “I-I thought we would be under the covers. I-I don’t want…”
“What? You don’t want what?” he asked, his voice not harsh, but insistent. He ran his finger over her bottom lip already swollen with his kisses. “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me.”
“I don’t want you to see me… naked I mean.”
He hugged her to him and chuckled into her hair. “I see you naked every day in my dreams. I see you naked in my waking thoughts. I have felt your body next to mine. You know this.”
She turned her head away. “You see me in your imagination. The reality is different,” she whispered. Why couldn’t he let her have her way in this?
He stepped away and pulled her with him to stand before the mirror between the dressers. He stood behind her and when she would have looked away, he held her shoulders facing the glass.
“Look,” he said slowly, “See your body as I do.”
She watched in the mirror as he moved his hands to her face, fluttering his fingers around and over her eyes. His voice was tender.
“These eyes,” he whispered by her ear, “Smolder when I kiss you. I never knew that green could burn with such a fiery richness and I would happily burn in their flames. And even though you try to cover it, those same eyes glitter like green ice when you’re angry.” He ran his finger across the bridge of her nose. “These freckles, here, stand out when you blush and beg to be kissed.” He chuckled deeply in his chest as his hands moved to her mouth. “This mouth, these lips, so soft and full and inviting. Do you know what a mouth like this can do to a man? I want to show you, Hope, and I will.” His fingers moved to her hair, unbinding the braid that held it.
“This hair, with all the color of autumn, draws me to pull the pins from it, unbind it and bury my face in its silken luxury. You smell like roses, Hope, roses in a garden of delight.” He pushed her unbound hair over one shoulder to expose her neck and kissed it lovingly. He spoke with his lips against the vein. “Just here, I can feel your pulse quicken. I can feel the pleasure my lips bring to you.” His hands moved to her shoulders and traveled lightly to the base of her throat and the bow. She closed her eyes and swallowed.
“Open your eyes, my precious. Open your eyes and see what I see.” And when she wouldn’t, he commanded softly, but firmly, “Open your eyes, Hope.”
She opened her eyes and watched her face flame with embarrassment as he pulled the ribbon tails of the bow. One by one, his fingers deftly pushed each tiny pearl button through its hole exposing more and more of her throat, her chest and finally her breasts. He pushed the gown over her shoulders and down her arms, trapping them at her sides. His hands slid over and under her breasts, weighing them in his palms, pushing them together.
“Look at their beauty, Hope.” He held her breast like an offering and pressed himself up against her from behind. She could feel his heart pounding in his chest and the bulge of his pants throbbing up against her rear.
“They, too, call me to touch them. Their beauty, softness and comfort are a gift to me. I long to play and kiss and lick and nibble until you cry with pleasure.” His fingers caressed and stroked and kneaded and pulled until her head fell back on his shoulder and she moaned. His laugh was full of lust and love.
“Look,” he said again and his voice forced her eyes back to the mirror. He flicked the pebbled bud lightly with his fingers. “See how they enjoy my attentions; how they tell me you want me as I want you.
“Watch. Don’t close your eyes. Watch.” His voice was a breathless rumble from his chest.
His hands moved back to the gown and he pushed it slowly down her arms until it pooled on the floor at her feet. She stood there naked but for her white lace panties already soaked with her want and need of him.
“Why would you be ashamed of this, full and soft and round as a woman should be.” His hands roamed over the small pouch of her belly and moved across her hips to her rear.
She couldn’t move, couldn’t close her eyes as
she watched him fall to his knees in front of her. He pulled her panties down her legs and lifted each foot until they were free.
With reverence, as if he really was worshiping her, he brought his lips to the edge of her womanly slit and kissed her. This time when she closed her eyes, it was not from embarrassment but from the rush of emotions and physical pleasure he brought with the touch of his lips. A small cry escaped. Her hands went to his head. Her fingers curled in his hair. Without words, she told him she wanted more.
He rose and pushed her gently back to the bed where he sat her on the edge. He bent and kissed her. There was an urgency to it that she’d never felt before. She saw the images from his mind and was no longer afraid. How could she be?
Using only his mouth and his kiss, he pushed her back to lie on the bed and once again began with her eyes and face, kissing, nibbling, tasting his way down to her breasts until she was panting with need. She reached for his belt.
“Not yet,” stopping her hand with his. “This first time is for you and only you. Let me worship you. Let me show you how it should be.”
She was too far gone to argue and she moaned as his tongue and fingers played about the edges of her hips and down the inside of her thighs. By the time he pressed her knees apart, she had no shame left. She was burning with need. She heard herself cry out his name when his tongue began to lap at her folds.
This was what he had waited for and the taste of her brought a growl of hunger into his throat. Men would kill for sweetness like this and the thought of another man seeking this, his woman, brought another kind of growl. She tasted of sweetness and light, honey straight from the hive. Hers was the nectar of roses carried on a summer night’s breeze.
His tongue savored and tasted as Hope thrashed beneath him. He smiled wickedly and plunged his finger into her opening. Hot and slick, she welcomed him and her cry of pleasure as she thrust against him encouraged him to add a second finger and a third. His thumb played against her clitoris as his fingers pumped in and out setting a rhythm to her cries.
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