Worth the Drive

by Mara Jacobs

  Not only did Darío hear her this time, but so did the entire restaurant.

  He watched as her huge blue eyes became even larger. A look of panic and then mortification took up residence in the sky blue pools. Thinking quickly, Darío said loudly, “Did she really say that? No way. So what did he say?”

  Katie immediately caught on to Darío’s attempted rescue. She continued, “Well, she said…” and then she leaned closer, as if to tell him the rest of the story. She only whispered, “Thank you.”

  “No, I believe the thank yous are all mine, Katie, if you meant what you said,” he teased, his eyes never leaving hers.

  On the drive back to the hotel he kept glancing at her, waiting for her to change her mind, but she seemed determined. “Are you certain about this?” he asked at a red light when he could turn to face her.

  “Yes,” she said. Then she seemed to realize that more than just her consent was needed. “Unless…unless you don’t want to.”

  He saw a tremor of doubt flash across her beautiful face. “Katie, you’re a remarkable woman, any man would jump at the chance to spend the night with you.”

  “I didn’t even ask if you were involved with someone. Oh God, maybe you’re not even available,” she groaned. She dropped her head back against the headrest, closing her eyes.

  “It’s fine. I’m not seeing anyone. If I weren’t available, we wouldn’t even be having this conversation. I wouldn’t have invited you to dinner, innocent as I thought it would be. I don’t mess around, Katie.” He moved to brush his hand across her cheek, to give her some sign of his interest, but the car behind them honked and Darío realized the light had turned green.

  Back in his own thoughts, he could not wrap his mind around the idea that Katie indeed needed a sign of his attraction to her. Had she never looked in the mirror? Didn’t she know how stunning a woman she was? Had this Ron person done damage so deep that she needed affirmation that she was desirable?

  Was this what her seduction was all about? Her ex-husband?

  Yes, probably. He didn’t care. She needed to feel desired, and he most definitely could do that for her. He had slept with women out of boredom, loneliness and other reasons much less definable than this.

  He snuck a peek at her, watching her elegant neck arch as she rested her head, her heavy lashes at rest against her smooth cheeks. He found himself growing hard, and knew that this seduction may have been her idea, but he was a very willing participant.

  In the elevator, he hesitated to push the button, giving her one more chance to change her mind. Instead, she sidled in front of him, facing the panel herself and said, “What floor is your room on?”

  “Fourteen,” he answered and watched as she pushed that button and no other.

  So, it was going to happen. He watched her go to the opposite corner of the elevator, like two boxers returning to neutral corners. She gripped the metal rails like she had the night before, but this time it was not to find balance. Tonight, Katie was sober, but her grip on the railing still made her knuckles turn white.

  Darío tried to think of something that might ease her nervousness. He wasn’t sure it was the right move, but he stepped to the center of the elevator and took up a golf stance, addressing an invisible ball, just as Katie had asked him to do the previous night. He heard her make a small gasp of recognition. He lifted his head – a definite no-no if he were really going to hit a ball – and met her eyes.

  She looked horrified to be reminded of her forwardness. That wasn’t his intention, he was trying to lighten the mood. He gave the imaginary club an exaggerated waggle and gave Katie an exaggerated wink. Finally, the desired effect spread across her face as she burst out laughing.

  She buried her face in her hands. “Oh God, I can’t believe I did that.”

  He stepped out of his stance and to her side of the elevator, pinning her to the wall. “I have to tell you, I’ve had many instructors over my career, some world-famous, some locals at driving ranges who could not resist giving me advice. But I have never, ever enjoyed setting up for someone to look at my form like I did last night.” He hoped she could hear the tease in his voice.

  She looked up from her hands with a bright smile on her face. “We never did get around to your form, did we?” she teased in return.

  “I was hoping that would happen very soon,” he said, just as the elevator came to rest on his floor.

  They didn’t speak as he led her to his room, his hand on the small of her back. He allowed her to go first through the door. He reached for the light switch on the wall the same time Katie did and her arm knocked him in the gut, causing a soft “oomph”. He thought of their introduction last night at the Armadillo and how her hand collided with his crotch. What was it with this woman and her dangerous limbs?

  “Oh, I’m so sorry. What is it with me and my clumsiness around you? I’m never like this, really. Ask any of my friends, ‘klutz’ is never a word that they’d use to describe me,” she said, moving into the living area of the large room.

  Saddened by her moving away from him, but determined to go at her pace, he followed. “And what words would they use to describe you?” Darío asked, rubbing his stomach as he turned the lights on to their softest dimmer setting and following Katie to the small couch where he sat next to her.

  He waited. She shrugged and looked away. “I’m not really sure. It depends on who you’d ask.”

  “What if I were to ask Lizzie? What word or words would she use to describe you?”

  “That’s easy. Friend. Loyal. Caring. Nurturing. She and Alison always say I mother them too much, but I guess it’s my nature.” She was quiet for a moment, wouldn’t meet his eyes. “At least I get to mother someone.”

  It was almost a whisper, one Darío wasn’t sure he was meant to hear, but he did, and the hurt in her voice tugged at him. “And other than Lizzie, the people in your town, what words would they use to describe you?”

  She sighed heavily. “I suppose that’s easy as well. ‘The pretty one’. That’s exactly what they call me, have since high school.”

  Darío was confused. “There is only one pretty person in this town, and thus you are the pretty one? What an odd town.”

  Katie laughed. “No, not the pretty one of the town, the pretty one of the three of us, Lizzie, myself and our other friend, Alison. It’s a stupid thing. The three of us were always together since kindergarten. Somewhere along the line someone dubbed us ‘The Smart One’, ‘The Pretty One’ and ‘The Nice One’.”

  “Lizzie is…” Darío asked, not willing to put a label on a woman he had just met, not willing to guess the wrong one.

  “’The Nice One’, can’t you tell?”

  “Yes, of course, Lizzie seems very nice, but she’s also very pretty. Not beautiful like yourself, but…”

  “Yes, she is, and so is Alison – pretty I mean. That’s exactly what I’m saying. We hated it, still hate it, but some people still refer to us that way. It’s humiliating, actually.”

  Darío stretched his arm across the back of the couch, touching Katie’s hair. It looked like softly fallen snow, so white and pure. “In what way humiliating?” he asked, but he could already see how living within a label like that could have limitations.

  He had lived with one all his life and everything he had done, everything he had achieved, could not erase it.

  “It’s a no-win situation. You’re secretly pleased you are the one you are, and yet you think ‘Hey, I’m smart too, you know.’ It’s kind of a crutch. Why did I have to work on being outgoing and personable when Lizzie already had that covered for us? Why should I knock myself out over books when Alison would always outshine everyone academically?

  “And being ‘The Pretty One’…” the disgust was evident in her voice, “ What did I do to earn that? Nothing. Genes, that’s it. Good genes, freak of nature, whatever, it’s nothing I did.”

  He could see her point. His label was nothing he had done either, and yet he could
not escape it anymore than Katie could escape being beautiful.

  He tried to turn her thoughts. “Yes, but you see, Gata, if you were the ‘smart one’ you probably would have thought twice about coming to my room.” His words made her laugh as he’d hoped.

  “And if I were ‘the nice one’?” she asked. She turned her body into his, leaned her head against his hand along the back of the couch.

  “Then I would feel like a heel taking advantage of you at such a vulnerable time in your life,” he said, smiling. His hand circled the back of her head through the softness of her hair, cradling her.

  She smiled. “But you don’t feel bad taking of advantage of me because I’m good looking?” She nuzzled her head against his hand, seeming to enjoying the feel of contact as much as Darío was.

  He moved even closer, so that his face was mere inches from hers. “Am I taking advantage, Gata? I don’t think so. Because, you see, though you may be ‘The Pretty One’, you are also very strong.” He saw the dubious look on her face. “It takes a strong woman to start over, to be alone, to tell a man she has known for a short time that she wishes to seduce him.”

  She dropped her head in embarrassment, shaking it. “No, not strong. Maybe crazy, but not strong.”

  He took his hand from the couch and lifted her face, gently caressing her cheek. “Crazy? Strong? Perhaps they are the same. They both suggest lack of fear.” He brushed his lips over hers. She felt so warm, so soft. “Are you afraid to be here, Gata?” he whispered.

  She returned the soft kiss, using the exact same pressure, the same movement, he had. “No. I want to be here. I want to do this.” She raised her eyes, meeting his. “I want you.”

  He brought her mouth to his. They were nearly the same height, but he was slightly above her when they sat. Her height must be in those gloriously long legs.

  She tasted of wonderful Spanish spices. No doubt it was from their dinner, but Darío allowed himself to think she tasted like home. Her lips parted with no prodding and he was encased in her warmth. His tongue met hers in a dance reminiscent of his country’s famous tango.

  A flash of Katie dressed in full Flamenco regalia made him go hard. He got up from the couch and held out his hand to her. She took it, like she was accepting his invitation to dance, which in a way she was. The oldest dance there was.

  Either he pulled a little too hard, or she was a bit too enthusiastic, because she barreled into him, causing him to stumble backward, pulling her with him. “Sorry,” she whispered, when they had finally righted themselves.

  He waved her apology away then took her in his arms. He kissed her again, walking backward to the bed. She fit so well in his arms, just as he thought she would. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers slid around his nape, sending a chill through him.

  She stepped on his feet twice and the image of her as a graceful Flamenco dancer swiftly left his mind.

  “Oops, sor –,” she tried to say but he cut her off with another kiss. Her breasts crushed against his chest, her hips aligned with his, their thighs tangled. His legs reached the edge of the bed. He stopped.

  Katie kept going.

  They tumbled onto the bed, Darío able to keep Katie on top of him, cushioning her fall. “Sorry,” she said again. Darío wasn’t sure, but he thought he heard amusement in her voice. His hands found the zipper of her dress at the same time his mouth found the soft nook of her neck where it met her shoulder. He felt her tremble. He sucked on her flesh and felt the shimmer go through her again. He licked her warm skin as he lowered the zipper.

  He felt her tense when his hands moved to her bare back, but her hesitance was quickly gone. He spread his legs and she kneeled between them. He raised her dress, past her thighs, so toned, so lean. Over her full hips. Along her trim waist, and beyond her plentiful breasts. She raised her arms for him, and he tossed the dress to the chair across from the bed.

  She was kneeling in only her bra and panties. White, plain cotton. He smiled. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but such serviceable lingerie was not it.

  She saw his grin, and as if reading his thoughts, said, “You were expecting what? Maybe leopard print? Cut outs?” She laughed. “I’m a Plain Jane girl underneath. Sorry to disappoint you.”

  He sat up, his face level with her breasts, and tugged his shirt out of his pants and over his head. He took her hand and placed it on top of his bulging erection. “Does it feel like I’m disappointed?”

  She grinned and began to move her hand along him. Dios Mio, it felt wonderful. He removed his hand from hers and moved to undo her bra. “Plain Jane white cotton or leopard skin, the damned thing has to go!”

  She threw her head back and laughed, highlighting her graceful neck. If he wasn’t so close to paradise, he would have moved to kiss her neck again, but his nimble hands had made quick work of her bra clasp and he was now slowly unveiling her like a fine work of art. Her breasts were full and firm, had the shape and tone of a woman of twenty. He nestled his head between them.

  He lifted her right breast in his hand, weighing, learning, committing to memory the shape and feel of her. He felt, rather than heard, a small breath escape her. He laid her down, resting on top of her. Limbs tangled, then righted themselves as they found comfort. He could wait no longer to taste her, and took her nipple into his mouth.

  She moaned softly, which became louder as Darío began to suck. He caressed her other breast and then switched his mouth and hand.

  Katie began to move against him and he knew it wouldn’t be hours of foreplay before they were both ready. They were both ready now. He moved one hand down her stomach, felt it flinch then relax, and continued down to slip a finger inside her panties. Yes, they were both ready now, her wetness tipping him off, as well as her hands plastering his head to her breasts.

  He needed to be inside her. To feel her. Be a part of her.

  “What about protection?” he asked, taking his mouth from her bountiful breasts to speak.

  Chapter Eight

  Golf is like making love.

  One day you think you are too old, and the next day you want to do it again.

  -Roberto De Vicenzo, professional golfer

  Protection? What a joke.

  Thoughts of numerous doctors’ offices, pokings, proddings, and devastating periods swept through Katie’s mind.

  It was almost enough to kill the mood for her until Darío nibbled on her breast once more. That delicious sensation brought her right back to the moment at hand.

  “It’s not an issue,” she murmured.

  “What?” he asked, still intent on her breasts.

  “Protection. It’s not an issue,” she said. More like gasped, really, as Darío moved to her other breast, his tongue circling her tender nipple. “I…I can’t…get pregnant, remember?” Her voice quivered, but from passion, not from the pain that usually accompanied such announcements of her infertility.

  He lifted his head, stared at her and nodded, understanding. Looking sorry that he’d brought up the subject. “And the other?”

  Other? What other? Then Katie remembered protection was used for more than unwanted pregnancies. It had been so long since unprotected sex was any kind of issue for her.

  “I was tested after I found out Ron had cheated. I’m fine.” She wouldn’t go into the humiliation she’d felt at asking for STD and HIV tests after being married for so long. The nurses had heard, of course, that Ron had left her, had found someone who could bear him a child. They treated her with respect and just a touch of pity. It was another one of those times she hated living in a small town.

  “I was tested for my yearly physical a few months ago, and have been with no one since,” Darío said.

  She believed him. Maybe that was naïve of her. But he believed her. Plus, she desperately wanted this man inside her. To pound into her. To pound out all thoughts. To pound away everything and everybody else. If only for now. If only for one night.

  “Then we’re good
to go,” she said, wriggling under him. She took a hand from his head and stroked down his back. “Or we will be when you get those pants off.”

  He chuckled and kneeled up to undo his belt and fly. She brushed his hands away, undid the zipper and eased his pants and briefs down to his knees just as he made a move to stand up. Her movement made him lose his balance and he fell on the floor, his pants wrapped around his knees.

  “Oh God, Darío, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” She peered over the edge of the bed to see him sprawled on the floor, legs held akimbo by his pants, his penis jutting and hard.

  He waved away her offer of a helping hand and stood, taking his pants off at the same time. “You know, Gata, making love with you could be muy dangerous.”

  Katie was almost offended until she saw the twinkle of humor in his warm, brown eyes. She sat back on her haunches and deliberately eyed his erection. “Enter at your own risk, then,” she purred.

  His crooked smile ran through her, leaving her tingling almost as much as when he sucked on her nipple. “I believe I’ll take that risk.” He knelt on the bed, coming eye to eye with her. Without touching her body, he leaned forward to claim her mouth.

  His kiss was hungry, urgent. He tasted of coffee and he smelled like sunshine and grass. It had been so long since Katie had been kissed by anyone other than Ron. Darío kissed so differently. He was raw, untamed. It was such a contrast to the poised, controlled man Katie had watched on the golf course for two days. This man did not kiss like a man who limited his beer intake. This man did not kiss like a man so disciplined he would shoot balls well into the twilight until he holed ten bunker shots in a row.

  This man did not kiss like Ron.

  That was the main thing. There would be nothing with Darío that would remind her of Ron. They were too different. Darío was dark, for one. His arms were much darker than the rest of him, of course, due to being on the course in golf shirts every day. A farmer’s tan was what they called it in Michigan. But the rest of his skin was still a golden brown.