by Susanne Beck
Staying with Ruby, I’d discovered a joy in cooking which I’d never had before. I suppose it was the teacher I had. Ruby was much more patient than my own mother, who, after watching me for a few scant seconds, would invariably throw up her hands in maternal disgust and insist on doing things herself.
With the pressure off, I discovered that not only did I enjoy the art of cooking, I found that I was pretty good at it as well, if I do say so myself.
Standing in the kitchen and looking outward, the short arm of the "L" came into view, an area totally empty at the time, but would be used as a storage area of sorts more commonly called a ‘mud room’, where the washer and dryer would be hooked up, as soon as we had enough money to buy them.
Directly opposite the alcove which bore the ‘front’ door was yet another door, and it was this door which led into the house proper.
Taking in a deep, happy breath and filling my lungs with the smell of newness, I stepped through that door and into the main body of my new home. This part of the cabin was, basically, one gigantic open area, with the dining, living, and reading rooms separated only by the differing types of furniture in each.
Along the back wall, the one which fronted the glassed in area where I had just been, was a long line of exquisitely made cabinetry which was broken in the middle by a huge—and I do mean huge—fireplace. Large enough for Ice to stand in without stooping over and wide enough for her to hold both arms out to their fullest extension without touching either side, the fireplace had been the center of many a family gathering in my youth, and I very much hoped for it to be that way again.
Turning away from the wall that housed the fireplace, the first thing that came to my vision was the view of the moonlight playing on the lake; a view made possible by an entire wall made up of windows, windows which looked out not only upon the pristine blue of the lake, but also upon the screened porch which ran the entire length of the front of the house.
The dining room, with its large and solid oak table, was to my right. In front of me, opposite the fireplace, were the couches, tables and chairs that made up the living room. To the left of that was the cozy library with its recessed bookcases taking up space on two walls, its comfortable chairs and the small lamps which rested on corner tables.
Another recessed alcove stood next to the fireplace, and in that alcove was the bathroom and what had been, in the cabin’s first incarnation, the master bedroom. It was now assigned visitor’s duties because of the one change I’d made to the original specs of the cabin.
A set of stairs shared space with the library to the extreme left of the house, steps which led up to a loft which, like the porch below it, ran the entire length of the cabin. When I’d stayed there as a young girl, the loft had been broken up into four separate bedrooms, each with its own walls and door. Now, however, there were no walls and no doors, just one gigantic open space that made up the master bedroom.
The loft was bordered on one side by a huge window, and on the other by a wooden railing styled to look like a weathered split-rail fence which allowed one to look down into the rest of the cabin when standing before it. It didn’t, of course, allow much in the way of privacy, but the open, airy feel, plus the immense size of the newly converted room more than made up for that, in my opinion.
Sighing in pure, unadulterated bliss, I turned to see my lover watching me, an expression of amused fondness on her face. I walked over to her, enjoying the heat of the now roaring fire on my skin as I did so, and wrapped myself against her body like a limpet, soaking up every precious second of this time.
I took in her scent, the scent of the house, and the scent of burning logs and committed it all to memory; a memory I’d pull out again and again to savor when the days were long and the nights, longer.
"Thank you," I whispered against the fabric covering her chest. "It’s everything I dreamed of, and so much more. You made my dream come true."
"You made your own dream come true, my Angel," she rumbled, pressing her cheek against the top of my head. "I just helped out a little, that’s all."
In no mood for arguing, I simply wrapped myself more tightly around her, closing my eyes and feeling on top of the world.
And when Ice’s close presence, the warmth of the fire at my back, the excitement of the day, and two—or was it three?—glasses of Pop’s brew combined to make me yawn for the third time in as many minutes, Ice pulled gently away from me, grated the fire, and, grasping my hand gently, led me toward the steps that led to the bedroom.
Our bedroom.
That thought caused the sleepiness to vanish as if it never were and each step up the stairs caused me to be come more awake, more aware, and definitely more excited.
Coming to the top of the stairs, Ice released my hand and allowed me to precede her into the loft, which I gladly did, taking in everything around me with wondering, and appreciative, eyes.
Then I stopped when something struck me as odd about the bed we had both chosen, a huge king sized wonder that made a very large dent in whatever savings we’d heretofore managed to accumulate.
It wasn’t the bed per se, but rather the headboard that seemed ...different.
Walking to the foot of the bed and looking at the headboard straight on in the light of the fire flickering below, the difference struck me and the breath left my lungs at about the same time the blood left my brain, causing me to feel just the slightest bit faint.
"Oh my god," I whispered, awestruck.
Where a simple cherry headboard had stood before, a massive walnut one stood in its stead. In the center was a meticulously carved oval, and within that oval , carved in bas relief, was the most gorgeous rendering of a bonsai tree that I’d ever seen, and believe me when I tell you that I’ve become quite an expert on all things bonsai over the years, being Ice’s partner as I am.
Dumbstruck, I turned to look at Ice. "Where did you get this?"
The faintest of blushes highlighted her features, nearly hidden by the flickering firelight. "I made it," she said simply.
"You made ... . You made this?!?"
The blush deepened as she nodded slowly, her expression telling me she was unsure how I was taking her magnificent gift.
Tears trebled my vision as I held a hand out, silently asking her to join me by the bed. When she came, I wrapped her in a hug so tight that an atom would have been hard-pressed to get between us. "If I live to be a thousand, I don’t think I’ll ever see anything more beautiful," I whispered, my voice muffled by tears as well as by Ice’s chest where my lips rested.
After a moment, she pulled away and wiped my tears with gentle fingers. "Please don’t cry, Angel."
"I can’t help it. Every time I think I couldn’t possibly be any more loved, you go and do something like this." I smiled a watery smile. "You touch my soul, Morgan. That’s where the tears come from."
She smiled at me, rested her fingers tenderly against my cheek for a moment, then gathered me back into the wonderful nest of her arms, placing a gentle kiss on the crown of my head. "You are loved, my sweet Angel. More than you will ever know."
Her poetic words, all the more beautiful for being so rare, only caused my tears to fall that much harder. As I rested my head against her chest, I looked again at the magnificent carving that appeared to live and breathe and dance as the light from the fire played over it. "Does it have a name," I asked finally, well remembering my lover’s penchant for naming her trees.
"The Freedom of Desire," she whispered, her lips just brushing against the exquisitely sensitive shell of my ear.
My body erupted into flames to rival the hottest fire nature had to offer, and when her tongue grazed along the path her lips had made, followed by the soft nip of her sharp teeth, I was well and truly lost to the searing heat of our joined passion.
Strong arms lifted me up and placed me in our bed with a tenderness reserved for priceless objects while lips and tongue and teeth moved slowly down to continue their assault, this time on th
e flesh of my neck; flesh that was flushed rosy with the heat that Ice was generating within me.
A shift of the mattress and suddenly I was covered with a living blanket, enveloped in the intoxicating scents of primal musk and exotic spice, the fire within burning ever hotter when full, wet lips searched out and found my own, setting my body to writhing beneath the heavier weight of my lover.
The kiss deepened and I tasted the deep moan that rumbled from her chest. Tasted it, savored it, and returned it with one of my own as her fingers threaded themselves through the shortened locks of my hair. Her lips parted and I took her tongue into me, worshiping it with my own as our bodies danced in tandem atop the bed sheets.
After long moments of bliss, her lips left mine and I felt the scrape of her teeth along my jugular as her hands slipped from their hold on my hair, trailing down my body in an electrical current of passion. A strong thigh parted my trembling legs while her hands worked the fly of my jeans, tugging it down forcefully as she grunted her need into the hollow of my throat.
A teasing hand slipped past the barrier of my briefs, fingers bathing themselves in the slickness found there as a wicked grin curved the corners of her gorgeous mouth and a darting tongue teased out to wet lips ripe for kissing.
Withdrawing her hand, she rolled up to her knees, yanking my jeans and underwear off in one fluid move and tossing them on the floor beside the bed. The faint chill of the air against my heated skin provided a pleasure all its own.
A pleasure that was quickly surpassed when she then straddled my naked hips and slowly removed her T-shirt, baring her magnificent breasts to me. Unable to stop myself, I reached up and covered them with my hands, feeling them tighten and grow full beneath the tender flesh of my palms. Backlit by the fire, she was my dark goddess, all primal heat and intoxicating beauty.
Her eyes glittered silver beneath long lashes and her hips took up a slow rocking, and I could feel the molten heat of her even through the thick denim of her jeans as they rode against my own heat in a rhythm that had my hips pumping against her, begging for more contact.
"Harder," she growled, and I squeezed her breasts more firmly, then took her straining nipples between my fingers and squeezed hard enough to cause the whites of her eyes to show as her thrusts against me became stronger, causing my own arousal to double until it was all that I could do not to just surrender to the edge that danced at the edge of my vision.
She leaned down closer then, her fragrant hair falling in a curtain around my head, and rested the weight of her upper body onto clenched fists on either side of my shoulders. Her hips slipped down and in between my splayed legs as her thrusts continued, accompanied by guttural grunts with each forward motion or her body.
"Harder," she growled again and I could do nothing but obey as stiff fabric of her jeans slid against me again and again without pause or mercy. My legs lifted of their own accord, my ankles locking behind her bent knees, lending strength to her thrusts.
Her long, graceful neck arched backward, exposing her throat as a long, low moan erupted, filling the air with its primal sound.
"Oh god," I whispered as I watched her climax run through her, darkening and heating her skin with a rosy flush. "Dear, sweet god.."
White teeth gleamed and jaw muscles bulged as she rode out the last of her orgasm with a few more thrusts against me. Then she slumped down full on top of me, panting into the skin of my neck as her hot lips nuzzled against my flesh, gently suckling as she regained her breath.
Her lips became more insistent as she began to regain her strength, sucking at my pulse-point as if to take the beating of my heart down deep into her. Her hands unclenched and began to re-map the terrain of my body, skimming firmly over the hills and valleys they found there, exciting me still more with the fierce passion in her touch. Finally they came to rest at the collar of my T-shirt and, with a great rending tear, exposed the rest of my body to the heady heat of the night.
She was relentless, ravenous in her tasting of my breasts, lapping up the sweat bathing them as a cat to cream, leaving no square inch of tingling flesh untouched. Her hands continued their own relentless trek, her palms, callused from her long labors, teasing and taunting me as I writhed beneath her merciless attentions, never staying in one place long enough to give me even the briefest hint of relief.
But it was there, oh yes. I could see it, feel it, taste it, smell it with every teasing nip of her teeth, with every heated caress. It was there, painted on the insides of my eyelids, humming in my ears, promising freedom.
Promising salvation.
And then, when she had wound me up so tightly that it felt as if every atom of my body was being bathed and stroked and wonderfully loved, her hot, wet mouth cupped over me, moaning into my greedy flesh, and with the first touch of her wondrous tongue, the salvation I had so desperately sought was mine and I flew, higher and harder than I ever had before.
My body convulsed in joyous release as my fingers threaded through the midnight black of her hair, using it as an anchor to keep from flying completely away and becoming lost within the bliss I had become.
And when the summit was reached and I found myself tumbling heedless down the other side, she filled me full, curling her fingers and stroking me within and without, mixing slowness with quickness, gentleness with ferocity, feeding me, lifting me until the scream of my release echoed loud in my ears.
And then she gentled me as a trainer calms a skittish colt, her fingers curled tight and nestling gently against my womb, her lips bestowing tender kisses designed not to arouse but to calm, and I came back into myself in the sweetest of ways, to find her head resting on my thigh, her chin tilted up to look at me, a joyous, happy light shining from the blue of her eyes.
"God, I love you," was all I had breath to say as I stroked the sweaty hair from her brow, my body bathed in the love of her eyes.
The smile she gave me stopped my heart, its sheer brilliance telling me more than words ever could.
After a moment, she gently withdrew and slid up beside me, molding our bodies together and stroking my back soothingly. I reached up to kiss her, and the taste of myself on her lips sent renewed energy from somewhere racing through my body. But she pulled away, her thumb running along my lips, and she slowly shook her head. "Rest now, sweet Angel. We have all night."
Too sated to be much disappointed, I gave into my languid body’s stronger craving and felt myself fall asleep within the warm, tender strength of her arms, safe in the knowing that she would keep watch over whatever demons might think to invade my dreams.
And with her standing guard, they didn’t dare.
* * *
Late the next morning, I awoke to the pleasant weight of Ice’s head resting on my lower abdomen. Her sleep-tousled hair partially hid her face from me. Tendrils of it stirred gently with each long, slow exhale, tickling against me and raising goosebumps across my flesh.
Her breath was cool on the skin of my slowly awakening body and I resisted the urge to squirm, realizing yet again what a wonderful rejuvenator sleep really is. As if sensing my predicament, she stirred, just slightly, tightening her hold around my thigh and rubbing her cheek against the skin of my belly in an unconscious gesture full of trust and love.
I held my breath against the possibility of her awakening too soon, wanting nothing more at the moment than to cherish the rare chance to watch her in sleep, then relaxed as her own breathing once again deepened in slumber.
The Autumn sun streaming in through the window cast her in burnished bronze, a living sculpture made by the finest of craftsmen in the image of a goddess called to earth. I watched as the swaying trees outside the window moved interesting shadows over her naked skin, highlighting, then obscuring, the thick muscles of her back.
As I looked on, I tried to think back to a time I had been more at peace and couldn’t. Even the ever-present specter of justice failed to hold sway over me that morning.
I was loved. I was safe.
&
nbsp; I was home.
Lifting my hand, I gently stroked her hair, allowing my mind to drift aimlessly over everything and nothing, content in the tranquility of an early fall morning.
She stirred again, likely under the effects of my languid petting, and nuzzled my belly once more before placing a kiss on the inside of my right thigh, and then my left. Then, her body bed warm and sleep soft, she rose up beside me, drawing me into her arms and capturing my lips in her own in a kiss which left my senses reeling.
"Morning," I said, my voice suspiciously husky, when she finally pulled away.
"Mmmm," she rumbled, smacking her lips, "that it is."
"Sleep well?"
"Very."
"Good." And with a grin full of devilment and a heart full of lust, I slid down her body and took a patiently waiting nipple into my mouth, humming with delight when it grew firm beneath the suckling strokes of my tongue.
Ice’s gentle murmurings and her guiding hand to the back of my head encouraged me to give full vent to my morning passions. Her body responded instantly to my increasingly bold touches and I felt her breathing go labored as my hand trekked southward, skimming the flat, muscled plane of her belly and feeling it contract beneath my fingers.
And when I delved deep into her wet heat and felt her clenching, welcoming grip on my fingers, the low, responsive moans in my ear let me know that heaven, far from being unattainable, was a simple bed in a simple cabin in a backwater town miles away from anywhere.
And that’s exactly where I wanted it to be.
* * *
Time is a funny thing. Sometimes it’s in the hands of a greedy miser doling out seconds like moth-eaten dollars. And sometimes it’s in the hands of a downhill skier, rushing by so quickly that you can only stop and wonder where the days have gone when you look in the mirror and spot your first gray hair. Not that I’ve found any yet, mind you, but I’m sure you get my point.
