by Susanne Beck
Opening her eyes, she turned once again to face me, her eyes penetrating, intense, looking through the person I was and laying claim to the soul beneath. "Now that I’ve found these feelings, found you, I know that I never want to be without them again. I want to grow old with you, Angel. I want the feel of you in my arms, the taste of you on my lips, to be what I take with me when I die. And if that’s what happiness means, Angel, then yes, I’m happy. I’m very, very happy."
And then I found myself wrapped in a hug that smelled of clean sweat and exotic spices, and let it carry me away in that one perfect moment into the place from which all good things come.
* * *
Several weeks went by without much action on any front. The opening of tourist season for another year came and went with the usual fanfare and (mostly) goodwill. With so many more strangers coming into and leaving town, it was difficult to keep track of Millicent and her minions, but it appeared, for the moment at least, that our efficient bush telegraph was in fine working order.
One day, about mid-season or so, Ice came home for lunch, which was, in and of itself, unusual for her. Normally, she would skip lunch altogether, too wrapped up in helping Pop to grab more than a quick drink at the station. I harped on her about that a time or ten, but she always answered the same way, with a mock scowl and a shooing motion, and I finally accepted the fact that on this, I would never change her.
Not that I really minded. Of all the things we could be at loggerheads over, given our differences, lunch was a pretty insignificant thing in the grand scheme of it all.
Didn’t stop me from shoving the massive sandwich I’d made for myself into her hands as she stepped through the door though, along with a kiss to seal the deal. She accepted both gracefully, though she tore the sandwich in half and presented it back to me with another kiss.
The kiss, of course, kept me from grumping.
It also kept me from thinking for a couple seconds, but that’s neither here nor there.
"So," I began once I was again fully capable of speech, "to what do I owe the honor of this unexpected, but wonderful, visit?"
Before answering, she finished her meal, wiped her mouth with the extra napkin I’d brought, and pegged the used tissue in the wastebasket near the door. "Pop’s sister-in-law died."
"Oh, God, I’m sorry to hear that. Is he alright?"
"Yeah, he’s doing ok. It was the one who got sick when those punks came around and beat the crap outta him. She got better, but her death wasn’t exactly unexpected. At least, not to him." She turned fully to face me. "He’s asked me to go with him to the funeral."
I grew somewhat alarmed. "Is something the matter?"
Sensing my fear, she put a warm hand on my arm. "No, nothing like that. It’s just that he’s been having some trouble with his arm since it’s been broken, and he doesn’t feel comfortable driving for six or eight hours straight."
I breathed out a sigh of relief. "I’m glad it wasn’t something else."
"Nope. That’s it."
"How long will you be gone?"
Ice shrugged. "Four days. Maybe a week, tops. If I decide to go."
I could feel my eyebrows raise. "If you decide to go? Why wouldn’t you?"
"Once word gets out that Pop’s gonna be out of the way for a while, I wouldn’t put it past Millicent to do something stupid."
"Stupider you mean, right?"
She chuckled. "Yeah. So I don’t know if it’s wise that I leave as well. I’m sure we can find someone else who won’t mind driving."
I looked up at her. "Ice, Pop asked you to do this for a reason. He likes you and he trusts you. You know this. The town can take care of itself for awhile. And besides," I couldn’t help grinning, "I don’t think I make a half-bad Ice stand-in." Then I flexed my muscles like some steroid-hyped bodybuilder. "Strong like bull."
And looked up to find six feet of lust incarnate staring back at me, her eyes dark and hooded, her nostrils flaring just slightly.
Everything inside my skin simultaneously tightened and turned to water. You may know the feeling I’m talking about if you’ve ever had someone look at you like they’re the desert and you’re the rain. "Ice?"
She smiled, slow and dark. Her voice echoed her smile; deep, sexy, smoky. "If I didn’t need to get back and tell Pop it’s a go, I’d take you right here on the dining room table, Angel."
"Oh... Jesus." I tried to swallow, but my mouth had turned to dust. "D-do you think you could just tell him over the phone?"
"And spare us both the anticipation of waiting?" Her smile grew. "Oh, no. I don’t think so, Angel."
"I ...don’t need to remind you that we waited more than six months, do I?"
That damnable eyebrow again, poised and ready to fire. "At whose insistence?"
I looked down. "Mine," I whispered.
"Exactly." Stepping closer, the trailed one long finger just barely against my jaw. "Goodbye, Angel."
After a long moment, I broke free of my sudden paralysis. "Ice! Wait! You can’t ... !"
The closing of the screen door told me just how much she could.
It was going to be a long, long day.
PART 7
THAT NIGHT I knelt up on the bed, my body pressed half against the headboard as I looked out the window and watched the full, heavy moon lay a brilliant stripe across the lake. In the distance, I could see the tiny, bobbing headlights of fishing boats as they trolled across the gently rippling water.
The wood of the headboard felt smooth and warm against the simple white slip I’d chosen to wear. There wasn’t anything X-rated about it, nor even particularly daring, but when I’d seen it shopping one day, I knew it was something I wanted, even though I knew it probably wouldn’t stay on very long, given the reason I’d would be wearing it in the first place.
Corinne had come in about an hour or so after Ice had left. Something must have been lingering in the air, because she took one look at me, grinned wickedly, disappeared into her bedroom, and came back out, an overnight bag clasped securely in one hand. "I can see there’s a bit of a private party planned for this evening," she’d said. "I think I’ll spend the night with Pop. Too bad we won’t be having as much fun as you will."
And then she’d disappeared, leaving me along once again with my thoughts. And my hormones.
I smiled a little as I heard the truck pull up and Ice let herself into the house. Closing my eyes for a moment, I pictured her movements through the cabin, stopping first at the dining-room table to deposit her keys and wallet, then crossing through the living-room with sure, quiet strides and making a turn into the bathroom. I listened as the door closed softly behind her and the shower came on. Never one for lengthy showers, the water was off almost immediately and I pictured her slowly drying her dripping body and brushing her long, shining, wet hair.
Then there was a long silence, during which my body reacted to pictures my mind insisted sending.
To avoid driving myself completely crazy with building want, I opened my eyes again and concentrated on the spectacular view presented to me through the large window, getting lost in the gentle movement of the water and the way the moon sparkled against it.
So lost, in fact, that I didn’t even hear her come up the stairs. Nor did I hear, or feel, her climb up on the bed.
But when her hot hands came gently down on my shoulders and her lips pressed against the sensitive skin of the back of my neck, I came into myself so quickly, I almost passed out in sheer shock.
My body reacted instantly to her touch, though, and a moan forced its way up from somewhere very deep inside me.
"You’re very beautiful tonight, Angel," she said in the same deep, smoky tone she’d used earlier in the day. Her palms slid the delicate straps down off my shoulders slowly. "Soft. Innocent. Pure."
Each word was punctuated by a soft, lingering kiss to the flesh she’d bared, and then I felt the heated wetness of her tongue as she drew a path from one shoulder to the other, then bac
k again.
I couldn’t help shuddering, and my breathing quickened as my teeth bit down hard on my bottom lip to keep from crying out.
"A virgin, waiting to be taken."
Her hands ran down my arms, across my belly, then up my sides until they cupped my breasts. My body arched of forcefully into her palms, my nipples becoming so tight that they were almost painful.
She caressed me briefly as her tongue worked magic on the muscles of my neck. Then her long fingers hooked themselves into the bodice of my slip and pulled the yielding fabric down and away, exposing me to the mid-summer’s night as it peeked in through the window.
Her hands came up quickly again, the very tips of her fingers drawing teasing circles around my nipples, before lifting my breasts as if in homage, allowing the light of the moon to bathe them in its brilliance.
"Do you know how much I love to make love to you, my sweet Angel?"
Strong thumbs brushed against my nipples, bringing them even further erect.
"Do you know how much I love to feel your body react to my touch?"
Leaving my breasts for the moment, she gently urged the fabric of my slip downwards, kissing and running her tongue along my back in intricate, fanciful designs.
"To feel you move against me?" she breathed into the skin of my back.
It was all I could do not to try and squeeze my thighs together in an attempt to quench, if even minutely, the flame she was rousing within me.
That deep chuckle came again as my body betrayed my thoughts. Her hands left the silk of my slip and slid along the tops of my thighs, burning with an intense heat that was so much a part of her. Her fingers skimmed the insides of my thighs then, barely touching flesh which humped up, as if trying its best to draw her in.
"To taste you on my lips?"
Up and down, up and down, until my body was swaying to her caress as a serpent to its handler and my legs spread of their own accord, as she no doubt intended.
"To hear your cry my name out into the night?"
Reaching between my legs, she cupped me and pulled me backward against her hard, heated body, her soft, full breasts molding themselves to the plane of my back as our bodies melded together, back to front. Her muscled thighs rested beneath my own, her calves brushing against mine as she settled us together.
"Rock yourself against me, Angel."
Unable to disobey even if I’d wanted to, I worked my hips back and forth against the slightly callused skin of her palm, my movements becoming smoother as her hand became bathed in the slick moisture my body was so eagerly providing.
I could feel her thighs as they flexed and released beneath me, bringing her own body into motion and aiding me in my gentle thrusts against her hand. And when her fingers, long and sure, slipped inside of me, my head lolled back against one broad shoulder as I cried out my pleasure into the night.
"Yes, Angel," she purred, lips nipping at my ear. "Moan for me. Let me hear you."
Her fingers danced inside me, thrusting deep, caressing gently, changing tempo, changing rhythm, pulling me higher, and still higher as I urged her on with incoherent, breathless entreaties not to stop, never to stop, please God never ever stop.
"That’s it. Talk to me, sweet Angel. Sing to me."
Then her free hand came up to tease and touch my swaying breasts, pulling my nipples in time to her throbbing, seductive rhythm and I felt myself explode in a great screaming cry which echoed in my ears as the oncoming rush caught me from behind and swept me up with it. To go tumbling deep, ever deeper until I was lost and floating in an abyss filled not with darkness, but with points of sparkling brilliance, all calling me safely home and into the warm and loving nest of her arms.
And it could have stopped there, and I would have been satisfied.
But it didn’t.
Still buried deep within me, she gently pulled us both up until I was on all fours and she was still pressed against me from behind. Her lower body moved away for a moment, then pressed back into my flesh, hot and wet, beginning a slow grind against my hip as her breasts trailed along my back.
Her breath came in low grunts with each forward thrust and her hair came tumbling down, long and wet, to tickle against my cheeks and ears.
She began to pick up the tempo, growling deep in her chest, her body driving itself against mine in strong, forceful thrusts, causing me to grab tight to the bedcovers in order to hold my ground beneath her coiled, primal strength.
Great, fat beads of sweat dripped down on me. Then her dormant fingers began to move within me once again, filling me, stretching me wide and open for her. My violently trembling arms gave out, landing me on my elbows. My head dropped between them as I used all the strength I had to press back against her sharp forward motion.
Her body moved against me, relentless, unforgiving, trapping me beneath the hard, strong weight of her, leaving only room enough for the frantic rocking of my hips as I felt myself once again near the peak of my arousal.
She paused just a moment, just a heartbeat, her lips pressed close to my ear. "I do so love you, Angel," was said on a faint breath of air.
And then she surged against me, a wild, untamed thing, howling as her fingers stiffened and spasmed within me, setting off my own intense release. Brilliant lights flashed and circled, then were dimmed as her body slumped down fully on my own, pressing me down into the mattress. Her chest heaved in great, heaving gasps and her fingers loosened and drew free from my body.
When she made to move off me, I went with her, gently guiding her to her back, my legs tucked in between her widely splayed thighs. I could feel her wet heat spread itself against my skin, and when her hips bucked once in unconscious reaction, I knew we weren’t anywhere near done.
Reaching up, I kissed her deeply with all the tenderness that was within me to give. When she tried to take control once again, I refused, pulling away and giving her lips light nips until she got the picture and gave me her willing surrender, her eyes still dark and dangerous even within her seeming submission.
I kissed her again, exploring every heated inch of her mouth before quickly moving downward, both of our bodies giving me signals I couldn’t help but obey. My tongue darted out to taste the salted sweetness of her muscled flesh. Her breasts were greedy for my touch and I paid each one homage in turn until I was urged, by my own body’s wants, ever downward, over rippled muscle, strong, arching bone and soft, fragrant flesh until I reached my destination and took her into my mouth and tasted the essence of her as it exploded upon my rapturous tongue.
It didn’t take long. She was much too ready, and so was I. Overcome with the need to fill her as she had filled me, I went within, feeling her grip my fingers in welcome. One thrust, two, three as my mouth continued to attend from above, and she stiffened beneath me, her long fingers threading themselves into my hair, anchoring me to her as she rode out the waves of her pleasure.
And when she relaxed and fell limp against the bed, I kissed her gently, then rested my head against her hip, still thrusting tenderly inside her welcoming warmth.
Her breathing evened out and became steady. Her fingers loosened their tight hold in my hair as a much needed sleep caught up to her and took her over with it. Pressing a final kiss into her warm skin, laid my head back down on her belly, and when sleep came for me as well, I went willingly, a smile on my face and my fingers still clasped in a warm, velvet glove.
* * *
It was four days, seven hours, six minutes and thirty two, make that thirty three, seconds later. A bit obsessed with Father Time, you ask? Well, wouldn’t you be?
True to her word, Ice called me every day, usually in the evening right before I went to bed. The funeral had gone, I guess, as well as funerals are supposed to go, which means not very well at all, but at least everyone got through it pretty much unscathed, except for the body, who I’m sure didn’t have much of an opinion one way or the other on the subject.
The good news was that Pop was holding up well
. The bad news was that the reading of the will would probably be delayed at least a day, making it that much longer before Ice could return home. She hadn’t had a definite answer in our last call because the probate lawyer was being obtuse, but she told me not to expect her until the end of the week, at least.
Which was still two days away.
For her part, Corinne did her best to be an engaging companion, even going so far as to apply for, as she called it, "assistant bed-warmer duty". I, of course, quashed that particular suggestion post haste, but in all other ways, she was wonderful, keeping me busy and helping keep my loneliness for Ice at least partially at bay.
And so there I was, sitting in the living-room doing my best impersonation of a woman actually reading the paper that’s sitting open in her lap, and not caring one whit about the clock whose hands had suddenly developed an inexplicable tendency to move backwards, when they moved at all.
Realizing my Rich Little days were far behind me, I gave up on the fruitless effort and instead pondered on the age old wisdom that said that closely examined cooking receptacles never simmered, and decided to tempt fate by doing the one thing, much as lighting a cigarette in a restaurant magically summons a waitress, that would almost guarantee a phone call, if nothing else.
"I’m gonna take a bath," I announced to a smirking Corinne as I laid the unread paper aside and came to my feet, stretching.
And not just an ordinary bath. Oh no. The god in charge of telephonus interruptus wasn’t about to be enticed by a simple "just a quick dip to get cleaned off" sorta bath.
