by Judy Angelo
He reached a hand up and pushed a curl out of her face. “You’ve had your fun with me, with your tying up sessions.”
“Yeah.” Silken nodded. “And wasn’t it more fun once you got comfortable with me blindfolding you?”
“Mmm, sometimes. But,” he said as he traced his fingers around her chin, “what if we do something new?”
Her eyes widened. “Like you tying me up this time? That would be great.”
Max grimaced then shook his head. “That wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.”
“But it’s a good idea, isn’t it?”
He frowned. “Wouldn’t you being scared?”
“Why should I be?” Then, at his look of suspicion, she laughed. “Oh, come on, Max. You know me by now. I love this kind of thing. It’s the games that keep the sex interesting.”
He gave a grunt but said nothing and when he didn’t look like he was going to make a move, Silken hopped off the bed. “I’ll go get the stuff. You just start planning all the kinky things you’re going to do to me when I get back.”
That only got her a groan from Max. “I’ve awakened a monster,” he muttered.
“And it’s all your fault,” she threw over her shoulder, “for putting these crazy ideas in my head.” They both knew she didn’t need ideas from anyone. She could do crazy all by herself, but how could she resist teasing poor Max?
By the time Silken got back she had two ties, chocolate syrup, whipped cream and a honey-glazed doughnut. She deposited her booty on the nightstand by the bed.
Max raised himself up on one elbow and eyed her treasures. “The ties, syrup and cream, I can figure out, but a doughnut? What am I supposed to do with that?”
“That’s not for you, silly. It’s mine.” Silken grabbed it and took a big bite. “I’m hungry.” Her voice, hampered by her mouthful of doughnut, came out muffled.
“Oh.” Max sighed and sank back into the bed, a look of relief on his face. “As weird as you are sometimes, I was ready to expect anything.”
Silken punched him on the arm. “Meanie.” She polished off her doughnut then licked the flakes from her fingers. “Ready.” She knelt on the bed and raised her hands, wrists crossed.
Max eyed her with amusement. “Are you sure?”
“Very. Come on. I’m ready to be tied up.”
Max shook his head. “Don’t say I didn’t give you a chance to back out.”
It wasn’t very long before those words came back to haunt Silken. Bound to the bed railing by one tie, her eyes blindfolded by the other, she soon began to wonder what on earth she’d gotten herself into. Max had tied her up exactly as she’d demanded, but then he proceeded to drive her mad with the lightest of touches, starting at the soles of her feet then up her inner leg, touching and teasing until she was writhing with need.
And then that same tantalizing touch floated over the skin of her belly to circle the sensitive mounds of her breasts and then it flicked and flitted over her aching nipples, making her gasp and moan. That touch, so wickedly tantalizing, could not be his fingers or even his lips. He was using a feather to torture her. It had to be. But where in the world had he found one? She was in big trouble, she knew. When it came to making love, a feather was the ultimate instrument of torture.
And now, to her chagrin, the master was being schooled by the student.
Again and again the feather licked her nipples, first the left and then the right, sending soft waves of pleasure rippling through her body. She arched her back in agony, moaning out loud, desperate for him to put her out of her misery. “Suck on it,” she pleaded. “I need your lips. Please.”
Her hands trapped above her head, she had no power to reach for him. Her eyes bound by his tie, neither could she see him. She had no idea if he was regarding her with pity or laughing at her plight. She did the only thing left in her power to do. She begged.
To Silken’s sweet relief she felt Max’s lips on her left nipple and she sighed, melting as he sucked the aching bud deep into his mouth. And then he began to roll it with his tongue, massaging so expertly that within seconds her moisture flowed as her body responded to his touch. The right nipple enjoyed the same loving attention and soon she was nothing more than a mass of quivering nerves.
Silken moaned, her body attune to his every touch, his every lick, his every nip. She was arching her back, pushing her nipple deeper into his mouth, when he pulled away.
She groaned. “Max, don’t stop.” Her voice was plaintive, so different from the Silken who was usually in charge, but she didn’t care. She wanted him to soothe the fire he’d started and if she had to plead to get her release, then so be it.
But Max did not come back. She heard his feet padding across the floor and then he was gone. Just like that. Without a word.
What the beeswax?
Silken strained at the tie binding her wrists but she could not get free. That was the reward she got for teaching Max to tie a figure eight knot. Never again…
She was grumbling to herself when she heard Max’s soft chuckle and that was when she realized that he was back in the room. “Where did you go?” she hissed. “You don’t just leave me like this and go off-” Her sentence broke off in a yelp. She’d been slapped right in the belly by something ice-cold and slippery.
“Mmm, delicious.”
Even as she squirmed she felt Max’s lips on her, warming her skin as he licked at the ice cream he’d dropped there. Then he dropped the ice cream on her nipples and followed the icy surprise with his personal method of consuming his dessert, his sweet and sensual way, slurping both ice-cream and nipple deep into his mouth.
And then, to Silken’s horror, he moved down, directing his attack on that spot where her center of sensation lay.
And if he chose to stroke her there she would melt right into the bedclothes.
As she sucked in her breath to tell him not to go there, he dropped a dollop of ice cream right on her clit.
Silken gasped and her body jerked up, the shock of the icy, cold substance making her moan. She felt Max’s body over hers and then he settled between her legs, spreading them apart, exposing her to his gaze. And then she felt it, his lips on her mound, his tongue licking the sweetness on her clit, sending sparks shooting up her spine, making her body melt into him.
“Mmm.” The ice cream was all gone but still Max licked and teased, playing her body till she felt she’d die from the agony and the pleasure.
And as he licked she wanted to hold him…so bad. Instinctively, she pulled against her bonds but she was held tight. All she could do was relax and yield to the pleasure that flowed from his lips.
But then she realized that relaxing was something she could not do, not while Max was strumming her body and making it sing. Silken’s breath came in shallow gasps and the tension within her grew, her body tightening with each stroke of his tongue, and when he slid lower to dip into the dewy warmth below, she cried out and arched up to receive him, crying his name over and over again as she climaxed.
Max lay there hugging her hips as her body quaked then trembled then slowly settled into stillness, and then he lifted his head and planted a kiss at the top of her mound.
“Was that good for you, honey?” he asked as he began to move up and over her body.
“It was wonderful." She was still winded and the words came out in a breathless pant. She felt his hands behind her head, loosening the tie that hid her eyes. She was still blinking, trying to restore focus, as he loosened her wrists and set her free.
Immediately, she reached for him, sliding her hand down his belly. “It was sensational,” she whispered as her hand circled his rock-hard penis, “but you didn’t come yet and I want more.”
***
That Sunday night Max didn’t deliver Silken back at her apartment building until nine minutes after eleven. In the elevator she leaned against his body, feeling so languid and drained that she wished he would lift her up and carry her right to her door. But no, she couldn’t a
sk him to do that. He was carrying all her camping gear. Instead, she rested her cheek against his chest and stifled a yawn.
At the door Max rested her bag just inside then turned to go but as he did, he pulled her into his arms. “Thank you for the most wonderful weekend,” he said and gave her a peck on the cheek. “And apologize to Suave for me.”
“For what?” she asked as she wrapped her arms around his waist.
“For having you out so late,” he said with a rueful smile. “I know you have an early morning tomorrow. I didn’t mean to get you back this late.”
She shook her head. “It was my fault. I was the one who insisted on round two. But you know what?” She looked him right in the eyes, not caring what emotions he could plainly see there. “It was worth it.” Then she drew his lips down for a real kiss.
When Max finally left, Silken closed the door gently and, leaving her bags right where he'd dropped them, she crossed the shadowy living room and headed off to bed.
And that was when she heard it – a racking cough followed by a terrible wheezing. And it was coming from Suave’s bedroom.
Immediately, Silken turned around and ran back down the hallway. “Suave, are you all right?” She knocked at the door and when there was no answer she pushed it open.
There in the middle of the bed, all bundled up in sheets and blankets, lay Suave. And she was shaking.
“What’s the matter?” Silken hurried across the room and pulled at the bedclothes hiding her sister. “What’s going on?”
“It’th nothink. I jutht haff the flu.” Suave sounded like she was submerged under a foot of water. Her voice was thick and hoarse, and it was obvious that her nostrils were totally blocked.
Silken rested her hand on her sister’s forehead. She was burning with fever. “Oh, my God. Suave, you’re really sick. Why didn’t you call me?”
A fit of coughing overtook Suave and it took her a minute before she could reply. “I didn’t want to bother you on your trip. It’s all right. I can take care of myself.”
“No, you can’t.” Silken glared down at her. “Look at you. You’re shivering. You should have called me, Suave.” Her voice rose in frustration because Suave was always trying to do things on her own even when it wasn’t in her best interest. That was one thing, but the rise in the pitch of Silken's voice was also due to fear. What if something worse had happened to Suave while she’d been away? She hopped up and headed for the bathroom. “I’m getting the thermometer. If your temperature is over one hundred and four I’m taking you to the emergency room.”
“No, Silken, it’s okay. I already took some medication.” The coughing started again, cutting Suave off.
But Silken was not listening. She was pissed, not at Suave but at herself. She should have known better than to go all that way out of town and not check up on her sister every single day. They’d spoken Friday night and then on Saturday afternoon but they hadn’t spoken all day Sunday.
And then…Silken bit her lip as she remembered…and then she hadn’t even come straight home. She’d gone to Max’s house and made love while her sister lay in bed, roasting with fever.
The feeling of guilt was like a bitter pill in her mouth. She was supposed to be looking out for her little sister and this time she’d done a terrible job.
As she walked back to the bedroom, thermometer in hand, she vowed that no-one would come before her sister, and definitely not a man.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
To Silken’s relief, Suave’s fever broke within the hour but she still suffered from the guilt of having been away, totally unaware while her sister lay ill in bed. She’d meant it when she’d told herself she would never let it happen again. No matter that she was in a relationship, her sister would always come first.
And so she made Suave promise that no matter what she was doing or where she was, she would always let her big sis know when she was not one hundred percent. Actually, Silken didn’t make her promise, she made her swear.
After that, life went back to normal and before Silken knew it, another month had passed and Thanksgiving was just over a month away. Not having any family outside of each other, Silken and Suave always spent the day serving meals at Martha's Kitchen, having also donated their usual half dozen turkeys. And even though Max was now a part of her life, this year would be no exception. Helping out at the soup kitchen meant too much to Silken for her to skip going down there to work.
Heck, she might even drag Max to the soup kitchen with her. She smiled at the thought. That would be nice, to have him serving right by her side, but she was almost certain he’d spend the day with his family. He’d talked about flying to the Cayman Islands to spend time with his parents. More than likely he’d choose that time of year to be with them. She would miss him but she’d be happy knowing that while she was busy at the kitchen he was having a good time with family.
And then one day, out of the blue, something happened that turned Silken’s life upside down. Suave was thrown upside down with her.
It was a Monday evening and, like always, Suave collected the letters from the mailbox on the ground floor and took them up to the apartment where she piled them neatly on the table. They never usually went through the mail until after dinner but this evening there was one particular envelope that caught Silken’s eye.
She picked it up, staring at the address label and frowned. “Wisconsin? Who do we know in Wisconsin?”
Suave pulled her head out of the refrigerator and looked at Silken, her brow furrowed. “Who’s it from? The only person I can think of would be the doctor we went to see.” Then her brows lifted. “Is it from him?”
Silken shook her head. “Nope. Some guy named Mr.…” She squinted her eyes. “What the heck is this? Mr. Deeleef?”
Suave’s eyes grew round. “Detlef. Do you mean Detlef? That’s the name of the doctor’s housekeeper.” She flashed her hands. “Maybe the doctor’s changed his mind. What are you waiting for? Open it.”
Silken ripped open the envelope and spread the single sheet of paper on the kitchen table. Suave was there right by her side, anxiously reading the words aloud. “I regret to advise you of the passing of Dr. Pintero. However, he requested that upon his death the attached information be passed on to you. Please see the details on your birth mother.”
Suave’s words ended in a scream and she quickly flipped to the other sheet. And there they saw it – Meredith Hannah Shockley, forty-nine Oakwood Lane, Barksdale, Wisconsin. There was no phone number, no e-mail address but there was a full name, a city and a street, and that was enough. Silken screamed and hopped off the chair and Suave screamed and hugged her and then the two of them were hugging each other and jumping up and down, screaming their heads off.
When they finally stopped screaming they dropped down onto the kitchen chairs, panting.
“Can you believe it?” Suave said, her eyes still wide with disbelief. “We’re going to find our mother.” She looked up at the ceiling. “Thank you, God.”
“I…I still can’t believe it.” Silken pushed her arm closer to her sister. “Pinch me. Tell me I’m not dreaming.”
“You’re not dreaming,” Suave said with a laugh, “or else we’d be having the same exact dream. This is like the best day ever.” There were tears in her eyes as she looked back down at the letter. “And Dr. Pintero helped us in the end, and we won’t ever get the chance to thank him.”
“It’s okay,” Silken whispered, patting her hands. “I’m sure he knows how grateful we are for this chance of a lifetime.” She drew in her breath and let it out with a sigh. “Now our journey begins,” she said, as she gazed out the window. “It’s time to find our mother.”
***
When Silken told Max the good news he immediately got involved. “I have the perfect P.I. who can help you locate her,” he said. “With all this information, she’ll be easy to find.”
And he was right. Within four days of passing on their mother’s name and address to the private inv
estigator he was contacting them with concrete information on her current whereabouts.
“She hasn’t moved around much,” he told them, “which made it a whole lot easier for me. She’s been pretty much in and around the Madison area all her life.”
They learned that she was now Mrs. Meredith Albright, the wife of a pastor who ran a church in Baraboo, mother of a twenty-two year old son and an eighteen-year-old daughter. That surprised Silken. Their mother had started a family soon after giving them up. Still, she didn’t dwell on it. Right now all she wanted to do was find their mother.
“How can we reach her?” she asked as she and Suave sat huddled close to the speaker on the phone, intent on catching every word that the P.I. said. “Is it okay if we call?”
“No. Let me handle it for the moment. This is a very sensitive matter.” Russell Banner's voice was firm. “I know you’re anxious but we have to take this slow. Remember, your mother specifically requested that her identity never be revealed.” There was a slight pause then he said, “The only reason the doctor even gave you this information is because he’s gone. She can’t sue him in the grave.”
Silken and Suave looked at each other, both obviously thinking the same thing. It was a sobering thought, the idea of their mother even wanting to sue. Why would she? Wouldn’t she be thrilled to finally see her daughters again?
In the end they agreed to make Mr. Banner make first contact with Meredith. It would dampen the shock, he said, allow her time to adjust to the idea that her girls wanted to see her and be a part of her life.
Then finally, in the first week of November, they got the news. Meredith had agreed to see them. If they could fly out to Wisconsin the following week she would meet them in Madison at Michelangelo’s Coffee House on State Street and they could talk.
For all that week both twins were on edge, anxiously awaiting the arrival of that long anticipated day when they would see their mother’s face for the first time. She would open her arms to them, tears in her eyes, and hug them to her, begging them to forgive her for letting them go.
