The Last Groom on Earth

by Kristin James

  Angela clung to Bryce in the aftermath of her explosive pleasure, her head nestled on his shoulder. She smiled to herself, remembering her words to Kelly only the week before. No, Bryce definitely did not have sex wearing starched, ironed pajamas.

  Nine

  “Are you sure there’s anything up here?” came the high-pitched, peevish voice of a woman, startling Angela and Bryce from their blissful inertia.

  As a man’s low voice mumbled something in reply, Angela’s head snapped up from where she had been resting, exhausted and sated, upon Bryce’s shoulder, and she looked down into his face, her mouth an O of horror. He stared back at her with the same expression of astonishment and dismay. Then their moment of mutual paralysis broke, and Angela scrambled off his lap. They took to their heels, awkwardly trying to straighten their clothes as they ran, and ducked behind a thicket of shrubs a short distance from where they had been.

  “Did you hear something?” asked the same plaintive voice. Angela and Bryce peered through the shrubs and saw a harem girl step cautiously into the clearing they had just vacated.

  “Don’t be silly, Heather. Nobody’s up here.”

  Angela covered her mouth to stifle her giggles. She glanced over at Bryce. His eyes brimmed with the same amusement. He looked utterly relaxed, satisfied, and incredibly handsome. Angela kissed him quickly.

  “There! I’m sure I heard something. This place is spooky.”

  “Oh, for Heaven’s sake, it’s lovely. All right, all right, we’ll go back down to the party.”

  In another moment the couple was gone, and Angela let out a gusty sigh of relief and sank to the ground, still holding her dress up against her bare chest. Bryce sat down beside her, his eyes twinkling.

  “The things you get me into,” he scolded teasingly.

  “I get you into?” Angela retorted with mock indignation.

  “Absolutely. I would never have done anything this reckless if you weren’t so damn desirable.” He leaned over and kissed her.

  “Well,” Angela said, smiling, “if you put it like - that…”

  He pulled her into his arms and they lay back on the ground, gazing up at the clear night sky.

  “Isn’t it perfect?” Angela sighed.

  “Mmm.” Bryce’s voice was laced with amusement. “A bench for a bed. Almost being discovered en flagrante. Twigs in your hair.” He reached up and took a tiny twig from the bush that had become entangled in Angela’s wildly tumbling hair.

  “Like I said, absolutely perfect.”

  “Where’s your hat, by the by?” Bryce asked, idly playing with a lock of her tangled hair.

  Angela clapped her hands to her head. “Oh, my gosh, it’s back there somewhere. It’s a wonder that couple didn’t see it.” She began to giggle.

  “I think she was too eager to get away to see anything. No doubt she suspected he had some nefarious motive in bringing her up here.”

  “Mmm. Like you?”

  “Like me,” he agreed equably. “What?” he said at her startled glance. “You think I didn’t know what I was doing? I told you, I’ve thought about you all week, and I realized there was nothing for me to do but surrender.”

  “Surrender? As if I’d been trying to catch you!”

  “I was hoping you would. Finally it became obvious that I’d have to come to you. You used to be more persistent, you know, when you were younger.”

  Angela made a face at him, and be chuckled. “Come on.” He sat up, lifting her with him. “Turn around and I’ll zip you up.”

  He followed his words with action, adding a kiss on her nape when he had finished.

  “Thank you.” Angela felt suddenly, strangely, shy with him, as if, encased once again in her costume, she was now a stranger.

  “My pleasure.”

  Angela smiled at him with a trace of awkwardness. “I must look a mess.”

  “You look beautiful,” he assured her softly as his hand stroked her hair. Sensing her mood, he pulled her into his arms and cuddled her, his cheek resting against her hair. Angela relaxed with a sigh and snuggled into his chest, her arms going around his waist.

  “Is there any way we can sneak out of here?” he asked finally. “I want to be alone with you.”

  Angela pulled away and smiled at him. Her face was radiant, and she looked to him even more breathtak-ingly lovely. “Of course. I’m a master at sneaking out.”

  Bryce retrieved her snood from where it lay in front of the bench, slightly trampled, and Angela took him by the hand and led him through the trees to another path that went down the hill, skirting Tim’s house. The trail wound its way through trees, bushes, and clearings, sometimes almost indiscernible even in the full moonlight. Bryce strolled amiably along, holding Angela’s hand, less concerned with the prospect of getting lost than with the strange, wonderful feeling that had taken hold of him. He felt marvelously relaxed and content—almost giddy, in fact, and it seemed to him at that moment not at all unusual to be creeping away from a party along a dirt track through the trees, dressed in full costume, having just made love in a secluded copse of trees.

  He doubted that he had ever done anything quite as impulsive, but it seemed only right, somehow, with Angela. Not that the idea of making love to her in a traditional way didn’t have its appeal; it was a prospect he was contemplating with considerable interest at the moment. He glanced over at Angela. The moonlight silvered her fair skin and darkened the fire of her tumbled hair. Her lips were full and soft, with the faintly bruised look of a mouth that had been kissed recently and thoroughly. Just looking at her mouth brought the heat of desire darting through his loins again. He thought of her hair spread out across his pillow, a tangle of blazing curls, of her body, white and naked beneath his. Yes, the idea of having the time and the leisure to explore every aspect of making love to Angela was sounding more attractive every second.

  Bryce pulled her to a stop, and Angela glanced at him inquiringly. He pulled her close and kissed her, tasting the sweetness of her lips as if he’d never known it before. Angela pressed eagerly into him.

  Finally he lifted his face, though his body was still as close as a heartbeat to hers. “Are you sure we’re going the right way?” he asked a little breathlessly, brushing a lock of hair from her face with caressing fingers.

  “Yes.” Angela smiled. “I’m positive. Don’t trust me, huh?”

  “It’s not that. It’s just that…I’d like very much to get back to your apartment.”

  Angela’s smile deepened sensually. “Don’t worry. We will. I’d like to get back there, too.”

  They started off again, plunging into a mass of dark trees, but, amazingly, when they came through the thicket, there on the other side were rows of parked cars. They were at the bottom of Tim’s lot, where they had parked. Within minutes, they were in Bryce’s car and on their way back to Angela’s condominium. They held hands as he drove, and Angela noticed that Bryce’s driving was even swifter this time than it had been coming over.

  When they reached her complex, they almost ran up the stairs and arrived breathless and panting at her doorstep. With fingers that shook, Angela fitted her key into the door, hoping that this would not be one of those nights when Jim stuck his head out of the next door, calling her in for a cup of chamomile tea and a chat.

  The condo next door remained blessedly dark and quiet, and in a moment, Angela had the door open and they were inside.

  They made their way through her home to the bedroom in back, pausing to kiss and caress or to slip a garment off. They left a trail behind them of discarded shoes, jacket, dress and petticoats as they went from living room to Angela’s bedroom. They paused to kiss and cling to each other, only to break away to take off another garment, then returned to the embrace, so that it took a long time to reach their destination. But finally they tumbled onto the bed, naked and entwined.

  Somewhat sated by their earlier lovemaking, they did not rush to completion this time, but made love slowly, lingeringly, g
iving their time to the sweet enjoyment of every movement, every expression, every inch of their lover’s flesh. They kissed and caressed, murmuring endearments and soft words of delight, until the passion rose in them so fiercely that they could not hold back. Caught up in the hungry rush of desire, they moved together, clinging frantically, until at last pleasure exploded within them, even sweeter and more intense than it had been the first time.

  They relaxed, still holding each other, and Bryce reached back and grabbed a handful of the comforter, which lay atop Angela’s bed and pulled it around them to ward off the chill of the air against their damp bodies. Cocooned in its warmth, nestled snugly together, they drifted into sleep.

  The familiar strains of the Concordia theme awakened Angela. She opened her eyes, blinking sleepily, disoriented for a moment. It struck her that someone was in her house, and for a moment she tensed with fear. Then she remembered that Bryce was here.

  He must be playing the Concordia game. It seemed unlikely…but then everything that had happened with Bryce had been a surprise. A slow smile curved Angela’s lips as she remembered the night before. Perhaps Bryce was not the man for her, as she had been telling herself in vain for the past week, but they had made love as if they were perfectly matched. No other man had ever touched her as deeply or as quickly.

  Angela sat up, shoving her thick hair back from her face, and pulled her knees up to her chin, wrapping her arms around her jackknifed legs, as if she could hug her happiness to her. Could she actually be falling in love with Bryce? A few weeks ago she would have laughed at the idea, but it seemed quite possible now. Even a week ago she had been telling herself all the reasons why it would never work, why she should not give in to her yearnings. But this morning she could not think of a one. She felt happier and lighter, freer, than she had anytime since the IRS had descended upon H & A Enterprises.

  After a few moments of blissful reverie, she got up and went into the bathroom to shower. She came back into the bedroom, a terry-cloth robe tied around her and a turbaned towel wrapped around her wet hair. She padded out the door and across the landing to the second bedroom, which served as her office.

  The room was crammed full of bookcases, all stuffed with books and game boxes and assorted odds and ends that she had collected through the years, such as a lopsided pot made for her by one of her nephews in third-grade art class, a breathtaking metal sculpture of an eagle swooping down to seize its prey, and a jumbled collection of calling cards that she had picked up at various trade shows and never taken the time to sort out. Her desk, with its computer equipment, took up most of the wall beneath the window, and it was here that Bryce sat, frowning at the screen.

  Angela slipped up behind him and crossed her arms over his chest, bending down to kiss the top of his head. She could feel his body relax beneath her, and he tilted back his head to smile up at her.

  “Did I wake you? I’m sorry. I hadn’t realized that this thing had music until I turned it on.” He stretched up and kissed her lightly on the lips.

  “It has everything,” Angela replied and kissed him again, more lingeringly. “Anyway, I didn’t mind waking up.”

  Bryce slid the chair back from the desk and pulled Angela around the chair and into his lap. “How are you feeling this morning?” he asked, his eyes searching hers. “Do you regret last night?”

  “Of course not,” Angela replied indignantly, then added more hesitantly, “Do you?”

  “No. I enjoyed every minute of it thoroughly.”

  “Good.” Angela smiled and snuggled down against his shoulder. “Me, too. I feel too good to analyze it.”

  He released her hair from the towel, brushing the wet strands from her face with his hand. They sat for a moment in silence. Angela thought lazily that it felt wonderful to sit like this with Bryce, cozy and comfortable, yet still charged with an undercurrent of excitement. She knew that if she made any movement toward him, reached out to caress his arm or to kiss the deep hollow at the base of his throat—both of which tempted her—that they would be back in her bed shortly, making love again. The thought appealed to her, but for the moment, she was content simply to be close to him. There would be plenty of time for lovemaking later.

  “What got into you, to come in here and start playing a game?” she asked.

  She could feel his shrug beneath her cheek. “I’m not sure,” he said. “I was awake and I thought I’d do some work to pass the time while you slept. I came in here, but all I could find were these games. So I decided to try one, see what they were like. After all, I seem to have taken on a new, impulsive persona lately.” He paused, then said in a softer voice, “I thought I might get some insight into you if I played one.”

  There was a silence, and finally Angela said, “Well?”

  “Well, what? Oh, did I find out anything about you? Not much. Except that I realized that the game was just as frustrating as you are.”

  “Well! That’s a nice thing to say!” Angela exclaimed with mock indignation, sitting up and twisting to face him, but her eyes were dancing and her voice was rich with laughter.

  “Sorry,” he replied with equally amused insincerity, leaning over to kiss her on the tip of her nose. “I meant to say, intriguing.”

  “That’s better.”

  “How the hell do you play the damn thing?” he asked, some of his recent exasperation creeping into his voice.

  Angela stood up and perched on the narrow arm of the chair, gazing at the screen. “Oh, you’re playing IV, right? The Silver Mountains one?”

  “Yes. And all I do is walk, but everywhere I go, some big bird swoops down and eats me or I fall in a swamp or I go by a talking rock and on and on into a forest. There are two trails in it, but I get killed both ways. And if I don’t go into the woods, I wind up going around this college and winding up at the same place as one of the other trails, where I get killed again.”

  Angela had to chuckle at his outraged expression. “Did you look at the hints manual?”

  “Hints manual? You mean you need a book in order to play this thing?”

  “Not necessarily, but it makes it easier. Although we try to make our aid books vague enough that you still have to figure it out.”

  “And people do this for enjoyment?”

  Angela had to laugh at his skeptical expression. “It’s fun, I promise. You just have to figure out the kind of things you have to do, and once you realize how to think, it gets positively addictive.”

  “If you say so.”

  “I say so. See, the thing is that this guy, Sir Leopold, has to rescue the good sorceress, Ermina, from, the wicked King Grilvag, who lives at the top of the highest peak of the Silver Mountains. But it’s a long way there, and the only way he can make it is to pick, up things along the way and put them in his knapsack. Later, when he needs to, he can use them or give them to someone in exchange for something.”

  “What things?”

  “Well, for instance, at the talking rock, Leopold can pick up a golden hammer. If you pay attention to the riddle the rock says, it tells you where to go. You go there, and there’s the hammer.”

  Angela stood up and bent over the desk, using the mouse to maneuver the figure on the screen along a path. The rock spoke, and she glanced back expectantly at Bryce. His eyes had drifted to her derriere, which, in the position she was standing, was outlined prominently beneath her robe.

  “Uh, Bryce…” Angela snapped her fingers.

  Bryce turned his gaze back to her face, smiling sheepishly. “What? Oh.” He looked at the scene for a moment, then said, “I’m sorry. I’m afraid I got, uh, distracted. What did you say?”

  Angela couldn’t keep from smiling as she touched the rock again and it repeated its words.

  Bryce gazed at her blankly and started to shake his head. Then his eyes lit up. “Oh, wait, I see. Round age—the rings of a tree, right? And pages in a book-leaves. It’s talking about a big tree. And ‘grandfather of them all’—it must be the big one over t
here.”

  “Exactly. So now we move Sir Leopold over to the tree.” She leaned over again, demonstrating with the mouse.

  The figure walked in its stiff way across the screen to the tree, and a lively little piece of music came on. Sir Leopold looked up. A golden hammer glittered in the branches. Bryce glanced at it, but then his gaze was drawn inexorably back to Angela’s backside, so tan-talizingly close.

  “Now you have to click on this button up here,” Angela went on. “That makes him touch what’s in front of him.”

  Angela clicked, and the knight moved jerkily to recover the hammer and look at it.

  Bryce stretched his hand down and put it on her leg, slowly sliding it up under her robe.

  Angela jumped, giggling. “Bryce!” She turned to look at him with feigned outrage, but she could not hide the sensual warmth that lit her eyes at his touch. “Now pay attention.”

  He grinned. “Yes, ma’am.” But his hand did not stop its upward journey until his fingers curved over her bare buttock. His eyes darkened sensually as he realized that Angela was naked beneath her robe.

  “You’re not paying attention,” Angela said a trifle breathlessly as his hand caressed her bottom..

  “I am,” Bryce protested. “I’m paying very close attention.”

  “To the screen, I mean.”

  “Oh. That. All right.” He turned his head to look at the monitor, but his hand did not stop its smooth caress. “Go ahead.”

  Angela turned back to the screen and went on. “You have to put the hammer into his knapsack. You, uh, push the icon that looks like a…” She sucked in her breath as his fingers slid over the curve of her derriere and between her legs.

  “Like a what?” Bryce asked in a low voice as his fingers gently probed the gates of her femininity.

  “A bag. A drawstring bag.” Angela got out the words. She could feel the moisture pooling between her legs, inviting his further caresses.

  “Okay. Now what?”

  “Bryce…” she protested faintly, but she widened her stance, allowing his magical fingers easier access.