Beyond the Quiet: Romantic Thriller

by Brenda Hill

  I was so touched, and grateful, that tears came. “Oh, honey, that’s wonderful!”

  “I figured no matter how your visit with Shanna went, you’d be tired. I wanted you to come home and relax. You’ve had a lot going on.”

  I’d never felt so loved, so considered and nurtured. He was everything I’d longed for all my life, and I reached for his hand, holding it for a moment, then it wasn’t enough. I drew it to my cheek in a soft caress, adoring him with my eyes.

  “Oh, honey,” he said, his voice raspy, “I can’t drive when you look at me like that. Just wait till I get you home.”

  My entire body flooded with desire and I couldn’t wait to get home. But I suddenly thought of something to make my homecoming special.

  “Stop at the grocery store,” I said, fighting a smile. “I’ll just run in and get something we need.”

  ***

  As soon as Terry closed the front door, I wrapped my arms around him as if I were desperate for his touch. I tasted his lips, his tongue, and unbuttoned his shirt and dribbled kisses on his earlobe, down his neck and chest. His erection pressed against my belly.

  “Oh, honey,” he said, his voice husky, his fingers working the buttons on my blouse. “I’m not going to be able to wait.”

  Dropping clothes, we made a trail to the bedroom. When we hit the bed, we didn’t waste time with anything except the joy of lovemaking, and when he slid into me, I cried out in pleasure. His release came swiftly and mine followed.

  He lay on top of me, his weight plastered against my body. When he slid to my side, I wrapped my arms and legs around him to pull him back.

  “Aren’t I too heavy?” he asked, settling back on top of me. He laid his head on my chest, just under my chin.

  “I love your bare skin against mine,” I told him, running my hands down his back, kissing his neck just under his ear. I pushed my breasts to his chest. “I love how my nipples feel when they’re pressed against your skin, but most of all, I love how you feel on my thighs.” I closed my eyes, reveling in all the delicious sensations running through my body.

  “Your thighs?” Terry repeated, his voice teasing. “That’s a new one.”

  “You wouldn’t believe how incredibly erotic you feel to me, even lying calmly with your bare skin next to mine.”

  “Oh yes, I would.” His penis stirred and he raised himself on his elbows and kissed me.

  “Let’s continue this in the shower,” I suggested, giving him a quick kiss. “I feel grimy after the long flight.”

  “I don’t care how grimy you are, you feel wonderful.”

  “Come on.” I scooted out from under him and he let me go. Just as I reached the edge of the bed, he lunged and grabbed me, pulling me back on the bed, making those growling sounds I loved.

  “Animal,” I said, wrestling to get away. I scrambled to the edge of the bed and he grabbed my ankle, gently pulling me back.

  “Damn right.” He stood on his knees and, holding me down, blew raspberries on my stomach. I giggled and scrambled to get away. I made it to my feet, standing in the middle of the bed.

  “Want a ride?” he asked, scooting to the edge of the bed.

  “Are you serious?”

  “Climb on,” he said.

  Good God, I would never have believed it, but I climbed on, my pubic hairs mashing against his back, and wrapped my arms around his neck. When he stood, I shrieked like Kyle had done on the carousel. Terry trotted around the room, dipping and rising just like a carousel horse and slowly made his way to the bathroom, and I was squealing and laughing like I hadn’t done since I was a small child.

  Perhaps not even then.

  In the shower, we washed each other and made soap circles around body parts and rinsed them off. We dried each other, then ran for the bed where I climbed on top of Terry, playfully nuzzling first his top lip and then the lower. I sucked his tongue.

  “I’ll be right back,” I told him. A few moments later, I straddled Terry and reached into the sack.

  “What do you have in there?” he asked, folding his hands beneath his head.

  “Oh, I was a little hungry and thought we’d have a snack.” I pulled out the spray can of cheddar cheese.

  “Did you get some crackers?”

  “We don’t need crackers,” I said, spraying cheese around his right nipple. He laughed, then I leaned down and delicately nibbled, then licked the rest off. He quit laughing and wrapped his arms around me. I shrugged out of them. “I’m not through,” I told him. Then I sprayed his other nipple and did the same thing.

  Growing very quiet, he watched me. When I had licked every drop from his left nipple, I sprayed a string down the middle of his chest, and, taking my time, licked off every drop, savoring the mixture of the salty flavor with the cheese.

  “Delicious,” I said. His erection stood high, but I ignored it. For now. “You hungry?” I asked.

  “Ravenous.”

  Slowly, sensuously, I sprayed the cheese around my left nipple, then leaned down to his mouth. He greedily licked and sucked, and when he pulled my nipple into his mouth, the sensation went right to my genitals. As much as I wanted to climb onto his penis, I wasn’t ready for this to end.

  “Now for the other one,” I said, sitting up. I was so aroused that I could barely speak, but I sprayed the cheese and leaned down to his mouth. When he nibbled and licked, I could barely keep still. Squirming on his chest, I rubbed my crotch against his erection.

  Holding onto me, he sat up and rolled me onto my back. When I climaxed, the sensations seemed to come from so deep inside that the release went on and on until I was left feeling boneless.

  With a smug grin, Terry stretched out alongside of me.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Terry’s apartment was a one-bedroom box on the top floor of a five-story building, but for me that little box was closer to heaven than any place I’d ever been. We loved and we played, and I felt a glorious freedom I’d never imagined. We strolled the downtown street fair, bought fresh fruit from local vendors and listened to the live band. On Tuesday and Friday evenings we attended concerts at the Redlands Bowl and sat under the stars at the outdoor amphitheater.

  The days drifted into summer, and the temperatures climbed into the triple digits, scorching the hills, turning them a barren brown. When I’d drag home, exhausted by the heat, Terry would turn up the air conditioner and fix a light supper, perhaps some fruit and salad. Other evenings we’d head for one of the local casino buffets, where I’d blow my allotted five dollars on the slots.

  Finally the closing day on my condo arrived. Before meeting Ben at the title company, Terry drove me for a final walk-through.

  When we pulled into the driveway, I thought about my two years in that condo. So much had happened in that short time, so many things to change my life, from the gaiety of moving in to the terror I had lived with every day after Mac was diagnosed. Then losing him. Discovering Jenna...

  “You know,” I told Terry, “I don’t think I want to go in. Would you mind doing the honors?”

  As always, he understood, and simply squeezed my hand.

  While he was gone, I looked up at the sky, bright blue with scattered cloud puffs. Even though the condo had held a lot of sadness for me, it had also held joy. I fell in love while living there, and because of the love and understanding I’d learned from Terry, I now had a new relationship with my daughter.

  Life was good.

  ***

  Terry and I met Ben at the title company, and after all the paperwork was signed, I paid off the mortgage Mac had taken and then sold the condo to Ben. Because of the real estate boom in the area, I had enough left for the minimum down payment on the new house and I could finally repay Stan and Maggie, which I did, writing a cashier’s check for the full amount and sending it Federal Express. Now I was truly free of the past.

  Or so I thought.

  One evening Terry and I were cleaning the kitchen after a light dinner when my cell phone
rang. It was Jenna.

  “Please don’t hang up.”

  “What do you want?” My tone of voice must have alerted Terry. He glanced sharply at me.

  “Want some privacy?” he whispered. When I shook my head, he sat down across the table from me.

  “Please hear me out,” Jenna was saying. “I know this has been difficult for you—”

  “Difficult?”

  “Okay,” Jenna said, “perhaps difficult isn’t the right word. All else aside, though, could you possibly take just a moment and think what it’s been like for me? Loving a married man, having his child—”

  “Do I need to remind you that you chose that life? You knew Mac was married from the beginning.”

  “I know, Lisa. I’m not entirely blameless.”

  “You’re not entirely blameless? I can’t believe you. I’m hanging up now.” Before I checked the off button, I heard her voice through the phone.

  “Lisa! Wait!”

  For some unknown reason, I put the phone to my ear.

  “Think of Marsh,” Jenna began.

  “Why on earth would I want to give your illegitimate son any thought at all?”

  “Because he’s your daughter’s half-brother after all, and someday she may want to meet him. It’ll be awkward for her if you’re hostile.”

  Now I wanted to slam down the phone. “How wonderful that you’re so concerned about my daughter. I’m touched.” I rolled my eyes at Terry, but he didn’t respond except to give me a poignant smile. Instantly, I recalled his earlier comments about how lonely it had been for him without his father and how he wished I would consider talking to Marsh.

  I wasn’t ready for that. But as much as I hated to admit Jenna was right about anything, she did have a point about Shanna.

  “Jenna, I’m not ready to talk to your son and I can’t promise that I ever will. But . . .” My throat closed and I couldn’t continue. “Hold on a moment.” Still holding the cordless, I paced, talked to myself, paced some more.

  “Lisa! You still there?” Jenna yelled through the phone.

  I ignored her and paced again. Damn, I didn’t want to do this.

  “Lisa, talk to me!”

  Finally, I sat on Terry’s lap and raised the phone.

  “I’m here,” I told Jenna. “I’m not promising anything, but I’ll think about it.”

  When Terry smiled, I knew I’d said the right thing.

  ***

  Two weeks before we were supposed to close on the house I pestered Ben to make some calls to check the progress. I wanted to hurry the process and get all the paperwork done as soon as possible, but he couldn’t find out anything new. Agencies, especially government agencies, work at their own pace and delays were normal.

  “Just be patient, Lisa,” he told me. “It’ll happen.”

  To pass the time, I did more office work. One morning I answered phones and tried to work up enough energy to preview houses in the ungodly hundred-plus heat. Even the fronds on palm trees hung limp.

  The office door opened, and Andrea walked in. I didn’t know how she did it, but even in the summer heat she looked as elegant as ever in a cream-colored linen pantsuit.

  “I took your advice, and I’m building my listings notebook,” she told me. “You were right. It helps.”

  “Have you made your first sale?”

  She shook her head. “I’ve written two contracts, but they both fell through. If I don’t do something quick, I’m going to have to go to plan B.”

  “What’s plan B?”

  “Move in with my kids.”

  “Heaven forbid! That’s a fate worse than death!” We both laughed.

  “I’m supposed to give you a message,” Andrea said.

  “Oh? From who?”

  “Rick something. He said to tell you that your cop friend plays rough.”

  My smile faded and my mouth went dry. “Where did you see him?”

  “He was standing by your car when I drove up. He said he was an agent here and that you’d know what he meant. Poor guy. Had he been in an accident?”

  Dropping the papers in my hand, I ran to the front window. My car sat between a truck and a Blazer, but I didn’t see Rick’s car. Opening the front door, I checked the parking lot, then ran to the street. Still no sign of Rick. Back in the office, I headed for my desk.

  “What’s the matter, Lisa?” Andrea asked. “Who was that guy? Did I do something wrong?”

  “You said he looked like he’d been in an accident. Why did you think that?”

  “He had bandages on his face and one eye was swollen shut.”

  Jack had found him then. If I knew Rick at all, he’d really want revenge now.

  “Get Ben, Andrea. Please,” I said, gathering papers to stuff in my briefcase. By the time Ben came hurrying out of his office, I was standing by the door, looking out.

  “What’s the trouble, Lisa?” Ben asked me. “Andrea said something about Rick.”

  “I can’t explain right now. Just walk me to my car. Please, Ben. I’ll explain everything later.”

  “I hope you’ll tell me what this is about,” he said before I got into the car. “If you’re having a problem with Rick, I want to know.”

  “I’ll tell you about it later, Ben. I promise.” And then, locking the doors, I backed out of the parking space.

  Was Rick watching? Would he follow me home?

  Three blocks from the office, just before the freeway on-ramp, traffic began to slow on Redlands Boulevard and I realized there was a huge jam ahead. Everything in my two lanes slowed to a stop; we were packed so tightly together that I couldn’t even see what the problem was.

  Of all times for this to happen. I felt like a target, exposed and vulnerable. After sitting through two lights, I eased forward just enough to see the construction trucks blocking the right lane. From all indications it looked as if I’d be sitting through a few more lights, so, concerned with my car overheating, I shut off the air conditioner and lowered the window. Exhaust filled the air and my head throbbed. I felt sick. When Rick appeared outside my window, I was so startled I didn’t react except to stare.

  “I’m watching,” he calmly said, as if it were perfectly natural to stand in the middle of stalled traffic on a busy California street and have a conversation with me.

  His words propelled me into action. I reached into my handbag for my stun gun and pulled it out.

  Lazily he glanced at the gun and grinned. “You think something like that will stop me? We’re not finished, you know.”

  “Finished with what, Rick? Why are you doing this?”

  “I don’t like cops visiting me at home,” he said, touching his swollen nose. “It hurts.”

  “Leave me alone,” I told him, rolling up the window. The vehicles ahead started moving so I eased forward enough to cut through a car lot to a back road. My hands shaking, I punched in Terry’s number on my cell phone, but he didn’t answer. Leaving word for him to call, I headed for his apartment, but when I came to another on-ramp for I-10 east, I took it, watching out the windows and rearview mirror for Rick’s car.

  Did he know I had moved? If not, I didn’t want to lead him to Terry’s apartment. If he were following me, he’d soon figure it out, but maybe not for a couple of days, long enough for me to decide what to do.

  Taking the Yucaipa exit, I headed for the condo, wondering how I could lose him. I still hadn’t seen his car so I wasn’t certain he was following, but I didn’t want to take chances. I made a couple of quick turns onto side streets and took the back way to Terry’s apartment.

  When I finally pulled into the parking lot, I saw Terry’s Lexus in his regular spot. That was strange. If he was home, why hadn’t he returned my call?

  Just as I got out of the car, I saw Terry and Betty leaving the building together. She had never visited his apartment, refusing to believe the reality of the divorce, so I wondered what had brought her there today.

  Terry spotted me and headed my way but Be
tty lagged behind. She looked terrible. Her slacks and plaid blouse were wrinkled as if she’d slept in them and her frizzy hair was corkscrewed in all directions. Her blotchy complexion told me she had been crying.

  “Honey, I’m sorry,” Terry whispered. “I couldn’t stop her from coming.”

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “We received an offer on the house today, a good one and I accepted it. I guess the divorce is real to her now.”

  Her steps dragging as if it were an effort to put one foot in front of the other, she walked up to me and regarded me with a hopeless expression. In a voice so soft I could barely hear, she spoke. “I could’ve gotten him back if it hadn’t been for you.”

  Her haunted eyes pierced me, and I sat, unable to speak.

  “Betty,” Terry said, gently taking her arm, trying to pull her away, “you know that’s not true.”

  She turned back to me. “You did this to me.”

  “I’m so sorry, Lisa,” Terry said, his eyes flashing a helpless look. “I never wanted this to happen.” He managed to pull Betty away from my car. “Let’s get you home. I’ll drive.”

  “Home? Yes,” she said, her voice listless, “I want to go home.”

  “Will you follow us?” he asked me. When I hesitated, he added, “Please?”

  Over the next half hour, I kept the blue Honda in sight as it traveled to Loma Linda, blindly turning when it did and automatically stopping at red lights.

  I felt like an adulterer. No matter that they were divorcing, she still loved him and had obviously hoped they would reconcile. When they pulled into the driveway, I sat, my senses numb, and waited until Terry led her to the front door. I could see them talking; rather, she looked like she was pleading. Terry kept shaking his head. Finally, he turned and made his way to my car.

  “Jesus,” he said, sliding onto the passenger seat. “I’m sorry you were subjected to that.”

  I said nothing, couldn’t even look at him.

  “Honey? You all right?”