by Nola Cross
“Oh. Right. Damn.” Her shoulders sagged. It would have been great to spend their last evening together at a nice place to eat. “Well, the least we can do is get takeout and rent a movie. What sounds good?”
They had reached her car and she unlocked his door and held it open for him.
“I don’t know. Chinese again?”
“Sure.” Her initial enthusiasm had waned somewhat, but she was determined to keep the mood light. After all, things were working out just the way they should, right?
Tomorrow morning Nurse Sarah would help him learn how to use the gloves, then he could do his own sponge bath, get himself dressed, and drive himself to the garage. Any need he’d had for her would be over. Tonight she’d pack her things and put her suitcase in the car. She’d put Hawk’s medications where he could find them, and label the leftovers in the fridge. In the morning it would be an easy thing to simply slip away.
Chapter 16
Hawk woke sometime just before dawn. The first tinge of gray morning sky was visible through the slit between the drapes. He lay still. What had wakened him? A noise of some kind. An unfamiliar sound. Of course, he still wasn’t used to sleeping downstairs in the recliner. Everything was a little unfamiliar. Maybe Norman had jumped from the back of the couch to the floor. Or perhaps a log had settled into the pile of embers in the woodstove. He closed his eyes and repositioned himself as best he could, ready to drift back to sleep.
“Shhh.” In the same instant he heard her voice, he saw Desiree’s form take shape in the shadows across the room. She was dressed in pale, baggy pajamas, her black hair flowing free.
“What are you doing?” he whispered.
“Checking on you. Stoking the fire.” He heard the stove door open, a log chunk softly down, the door go closed again.
“Thank you,” he murmured.
She came near and pulled the afghan snug around his shoulders.
“Thank you,” he said again.
“Welcome,” she said. But she didn’t leave.
After a moment he asked, “What is it?” For some reason, they were still whispering.
She knelt low beside the chair. “This.”
And before he realized her intention, she was kissing him. As her soft lips pressed down on his own, he came all the way awake.
In that first instant, he truly meant to stop her. But then his cock got into the act, and the sexual tension he’d fought to keep at bay all week returned full force. Her tongue flicked out, inviting his to play, and quick liquid heat filled his pelvis. Before he knew what he was doing, his bandaged hands reached up and pushed her hair back, cradled her face, bringing her in for a deeper kiss. Their tongues parried and swirled, and he let out a groan of arousal and frustration. She whimpered back.
He tore his mouth away. “Dez. We can’t.”
“Yes, we can. I want to. No strings.”
“What?”
“No strings. No L-word. I promise.”
“What?”
Before he could grasp what she was referring to, he felt her hand snake beneath the afghan and close over his erection. She began to fondle him through his sweatpants, her small hand stroking him from root to tip and back again.
His whole body went rigid. “What are you doing?” he hissed.
Her hand stilled. “Don’t you like it?” He could hear the hurt in her voice.
“Sure. It’s great. Fantastic. But I thought we decided that sex was not a good idea.”
Are you crazy, man? This gorgeous woman wants to get you off. Just go with it.
“You decided, I didn’t.” Her hand began to move on him again. “How about this?” She added a fair amount of pressure. When he didn’t respond she sighed. “I’m not stopping, Hawk, so you might as well tell me what you like.”
He attempted to sit up, but her lips found his again and she kissed him hard as her fingers crept under his waistband. When she touched his bare skin there was no hiding her effect on him. His cock bucked beneath her hand, growing harder, more insistent, and he thrust his tongue deep into her mouth in a helpless mimicry of the sex act. She moaned and sucked his tongue for a moment and then broke away.
“I want to see,” she whispered, pushing the covers aside.
The room had gotten a little lighter, and sure enough, when Hawk looked down at himself he could make out his fully erect cock with Desi’s hand around it. She began to play with him, growing bolder, experimenting with the speed and pressure of her grip. A delicious tension built higher in his pelvis and thighs.
I should stop her. This is all wrong.
But he was crazy turned on. Would it be so awful to just lay back and enjoy himself?
“God, Desi,” he ground out, shifting in the chair in a last desperate attempt to move away, “we can’t do this.”
“Yes, we can.”
He sighed. “But—”
She giggled. Then her lips closed on his cock, catching him off guard. He gasped as she rose over him and took half of him into her mouth and throat.
Where the hell did she learn to do that?
It must have been then that he gave up trying to stop her. He groaned and sat back, an absolute slave to his body’s urges, to the heat and wetness of her insistent mouth. Her tongue wound around him, licking, laving. Then her lips formed a tight little ‘O’ and massaged his swollen tip, taking him in and spitting him out several times in quick succession.
Amazing. He was being pulled through a one-way tunnel toward an inevitable orgasm. His body began to tense. He was just moments from coming when she stopped and looked at him.
“Am I doing this right?” she asked.
“Oh my God,” he panted. “So right.”
He was ready to explode. But he was also aching to touch her, to stroke her face, to cup her breasts. It was some kind of fresh hell that he had to lay there and receive her ministrations without being able to reciprocate.
“Tracy showed me all this, you know,” Desi confided between licks. “She used to do this for her boyfriend. She and I practiced once with orange Popsicles.”
She gave him a shy smile as he imagined her mouth icy and hot at the same time. If possible, he was even more turned on.
“You’re killing me, Dez. I wanna touch you so bad. Take off your top for me, okay?”
She went still, leaning away and peeking sideways at him through the curtain of her hair.
“Please.”
“Okay,” she said after a moment.
She unbuttoned her pajama top and opened it partway. In the early dawn light she was perfect, just as he had pictured. Her breasts were full and heavy, with large, dusky nipples.
“Take it all the way off. Let me see you.”
The sleeves slid down her arms. As he stared, her nipples pebbled into stiff peaks.
“Beautiful,” he murmured. But it was sheer torture to see her this way and not be able to taste those saucy tips. “Come close,” he whispered, wetting his lips in anticipation.
But Desi had other ideas. She cupped her breasts and bent over his pelvis again, rubbing her nipples against his erection. Giving a broken sigh, she threw her head back so he could better see as she nestled him into the deep valley between her breasts. Squeezing him tight, she moved rhythmically, and he watched with avid attention as his cock disappeared between the silken mounds and then popped free, over and over again. It was the hottest thing he’d ever seen. Ever felt.
He couldn’t make it last. In the next instant he was swept into a monster wave of heat and starlight that sent him spinning to the very edge of consciousness. He let the wave take him, unable to do anything else. There was a vague twinge of embarrassment in the mix, but that was overridden by his body’s eager, primal response to her mouth, her touch. Her incredible sexuality.
When he managed to open his eyes again, she was using her pajama top to wipe her breasts. Now he did feel chagrined. He reached out and attempted to brush her hair back over her shoulder.
“Sorry about that.
That was way more one-sided than it should have been.”
“That’s okay,” she said, meeting his eyes for only a second or two. “That was pretty much what I was going for.”
He sat up. “Let’s go upstairs. If you lay across the bed, I think I can—”
“No.”
“Dez. Come on. I’ve been told I’m pretty good with my tongue. Let me at least reciprocate.”
She shook her head, then stood and took one more swipe at herself. The dawn had broken fully now, and he was smacked with how perfect she was, standing there half-dressed in the morning light, with the glory of her hair loose around her.
“That day you left to join the army, you gave me something to remember,” she said. “And I did. I hung on to that memory for eleven years, Hawk.” She smiled and shrugged. “Now I’ve given you something to think about for a while.”
Chapter 17
Swamped by the ether of his release, Hawk must have drifted back to sleep. When he woke a few hours later, he lay there dozing, listening for sounds of life from the kitchen. Nothing. No clink of plates or smell of coffee brewing. The fire in the stove had gone out, but the furnace had just kicked on with its usual low rumble.
He pushed back the covers. Maybe Desi was still asleep. He grinned. Yeah, she deserved to sleep in after what she’d done for him earlier that morning.
Sure, he’d meant to stop her. Hadn’t he been certain that sex between them would open any number of troublesome doors, not the least of which was her naïve expectation of a romantic relationship? But now that the worst had happened, damned if he could think about anything beyond the way her mouth had felt on his cock. The exquisite beauty of her bare breasts as she’d bent over him. Her dark, soulful eyes looking into his.
For so long he’d been thinking of her as a girl. Would a girl have known how to wield her sexual power the way Desiree had done? No, she was definitely all woman—glorious, curvy, sensual. He had a vague memory of some comment she’d made about Popsicles. That had to be a joke, right?
He sat up and stretched, then the realization hit him that he could make things fair between them right now if he could catch her still in bed. No reason at all they couldn’t have a hot session between the sheets before she went home. No strings. No L-word. Just like she’d said.
Without thinking further, he jumped from the recliner and started up the stairs, his head filling with erotic images of a naked and willing Desiree spread out on the bed beneath him, her body open to his lips and tongue. His cock began to react to his imaginings. Easy there, big fella.
But when he knocked on the guest room door there was no answer. And when he pushed the door open all signs of her were gone from the room. That’s when he saw the note on the pillow.
Hawk,
Sorry to run off but I have to get back early. There is pre-cooked oatmeal in the microwave. Just punch the button to warm it up. Don’t forget to take your meds.
D
What? She’d snuck out without even saying goodbye? And the tone of the note—it was so impersonal. What did that mean? An odd, hollow sensation took over his belly. He stumbled to the bathroom, relieved himself, then made his way back down the stairs.
It was obvious to him now: Desi had intended that early morning encounter between them as a form of goodbye. Well, the woman sure as hell knew how to leave a lasting impression. Meanwhile, what impression had he left her with as he lay there and did nothing but enjoy himself?
What a selfish prick.
As he came downstairs he walked by the gilt-framed mirror in the lower hallway. After living there for years he usually passed it by unnoticed, but this morning he stopped and faced his reflection, wondering if he’d been changed somehow by the morning’s experience. A bemused Hawk stared back, looking very much the same as he had the day before.
What had he been expecting anyway? Just because he and Desi had been intimate didn’t mean it had to go anywhere. She had come to him after all, uninvited, and he’d made her no promises. In fact, maybe it was better this way, because in spite of her assurances that she had no expectations of him, he knew how easy it was for a woman to add all kinds of sappy meaning to a casual encounter.
A sense of relief began to replace his disappointment in her absence. Maybe this way was best. He wasn’t cut out for anything serious. He’d never be able to give her what she wanted. A clean break now would make things way less complicated. Of course he was grateful for the way she’d stepped in and helped him over the past week, and he did need to make some kind of official show of appreciation. It would be rude not to. Maybe he’d have some flowers delivered to her, with a simple note of thanks.
He strode to the kitchen and nudged on the light. Several sticky notes were stuck around the room like little yellow butterflies. When had she had the chance to put these up? He went to the coffee maker. Ready to go, said the note. After several tries he was able to paw the button on and hot water began to drip through. The heady fragrance of brewing coffee filled the room. He wasn’t sure how he was going to pour himself a cup but he’d figure it out.
He stepped to the microwave. All set. Push on. Through the little window he could see a shallow dish holding a mound of oatmeal. The timer was preset to the correct number of minutes. He managed again to press the START button.
On the counter was a small saucer with his morning medications, and there was his water bottle, full and handy next to it. He bent low and touched his tongue to the pills and they stuck there until he could swallow them down with a long draught of water.
Smart girl. Some guy will be lucky to—
The microwave beeped, interrupting this thought, and he opened the door and lifted the hot bowl out between his paws. He smiled when he saw Desi had already doctored the cereal liberally with raisins and brown sugar. A big pat of butter had melted down over it like yellow lava. This was just the way he liked it. It smelled great, and his empty belly growled in response.
But how was he supposed to eat it? Should he set it aside and wait for Nurse Sarah to give him a hand? What if she was late? His belly growled a second time. He took the bowl to the table. Now he saw that he could tip the shallow bowl toward himself and nibble from the oatmeal around the edge. It was too hot to eat yet, but he couldn’t wait. He ate all he could get to around the outside of the dish. Then he placed it back on the table and steadied it while he licked the center clean. He pushed the clean plate away.
He was just managing to smear a napkin over his mouth when someone knocked at the front door. Desi? Has she changed her mind and come back? His heart lifted with hope and excitement, but as he neared the entry he heard Sarah’s voice calling out.
“Hello? You awake, sugah?” Another knock or two.
“Come on in,” he called back.
She popped the door open. “I’m a little early today. Hope that’s not a problem.”
“No problem. I’m up. Maybe you can help me fill my bottle with some of this coffee.”
The nurse followed him into the kitchen, filled his water bottle with the hot brew, and then followed him back to the living room, where they settled in their usual spot on the couch near the lamp. He took a long swig of coffee and then waited as she opened her bag and took out her round-nosed scissors. She began cutting the gauze away.
“Did your missus do these wraps? She did a fine job. A fine job. Where is she today? Still in bed? I hope I didn’t wake her with my knocking.”
“No, Desiree had to go back to Portland. As of this morning I’m on my own.”
“Back to Portland? She doesn’t live here then?” She squinted sideways at him.
“No. She’s actually just an old family friend.”
The woman gave a disrespectful snort. “Friend? Honey, I’ve been in your home several times in the last week, and it’s plain as paint that girl wants to be more than your friend.”
His face heated as he glanced across the room at the recliner. Thank God Sarah couldn’t know what had happened in that chair
earlier this morning.
“I don’t think so.” He tried to sound confident as he spoke the lie. “We’ve known each other for over ten years. We’re more like brother and sister.”
She snorted again and shook her head as she began to rummage around in her satchel. “Trust me. Sarah knows a thing or two about these things. Your Desiree is a woman in love.”
Shit. It was just as he’d feared. If she was right, it was even more important that he break things off right now. It would be kinder to Desi that way and he owed her that much. The last thing he wanted to do was lead her on.
The nurse opened a large plastic envelope. “Well, since you’re on your own now, these new glove-style dressings your doctor ordered are sure gonna help you out.”
* * * *
Desi watched as Tracy came down the stepladder and then stood back, surveying the burst of fat, white balloons she’d just tacked up in the west corner of the reception hall. Silver ribbons and white streamers hung from the center of the balloon bouquet, fluttering gently with any disturbance of air. Matching decorations already hung in the three other corners of the room as well as from the central light fixture. All they needed to do now was connect it all together with long twists of silver crepe paper.
“What do you think?” Tracy asked.
“Looks perfect.”
Tracy frowned. “I just hope the balloons stay inflated overnight.”
“That’s why I spent extra and got the thickest latex they had. The guy at the party store said we should be fine as long as we tie them tightly.”
“You think Seville will like it?”
“Of course she will. The place looks great.” Desi eased into one of the wooden folding chairs that lined the walls. “Let’s take a break.”
They’d been working all afternoon in the spacious reception hall of the Sweet Redemption Baptist Church, and all the light had now faded from the row of high windows facing the street. She glanced at her watch. It was just after eight. The church janitor would be there at nine to lock the doors. Her shoulders ached from reaching and stretching, and her lower back was on fire, but at least the activity had kept her mind occupied. The very last thing she wanted was to think about this morning and her clumsy attempt at pleasuring Hawk.
