Haunting Refrain

by Mary Marvella

  “None of that!” She grabbed his hair to pull him up. “We do it together this time.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He moved over her body, covering her, caressing her, kissing her. Her legs wrapped around his hips.

  No more thinking. Together, they joined when she moved to meet his thrust.

  Oh, yes, she had waited. When she winced he tried to slow things down. She would not allow him. Moving against him she set a rhythm achingly familiar. Her gasps against his mouth made his breath come faster. Her nails scored his back. She was near orgasm.

  He didn’t know how he knew, but he did. She clutched at him and his mind cleared of every thought except loving Sarah.

  “Omigod!” she screamed against his mouth when her orgasm overtook her, plunging him deeper into the surrender than he had ever fallen, and higher than sex had ever sent him. Flashes of light exploded behind his eyes and he shouted in exaltation.

  He rolled her from beneath him with the last ounce of strength he could muster. He hadn’t broken their intimate joining. He was finally home. They were in his house, in his bed, and he was finally inside her.

  That was his last thought before he fell asleep.

  ##

  Sarah awoke from a deep sleep. She rubbed her face against William’s hard chest. His heart beat slowly and steadily, unlike the loud, hard thudding she had felt against her chest, the last thing she remembered before she drifted off.

  She smiled at the sweet ache between her thighs. She had awakened near William before, but never naked and never in the same bed. She could see the bed in the large mirror on his massive oak dresser.

  The quiet of his house reminded her he had lived here alone for the past fifteen years. As far as she knew, he’d never had a girlfriend sleep over. There had been no live-in lovers. She had been able to walk into his house without knocking after his parents died.

  Outside, birds sang their dawn song. A rooster crowed somewhere in the neighborhood. Sarah looked around and spotted his clock. Ten after six? Oops. Time for Goldilocks to leave the warm bed and go home.

  What would her parents think? Somehow she had expected to bring a man home and introduce him to them as a boyfriend before she introduced him as her lover, or fiancée. So, she was a grown woman, the oldest virgin she knew, according to her friends. Make that ex-virgin.

  She stretched and grinned. In some ways William had protected her innocence for years. She had never expected to give it to him. God, she was glad he’d been her first lover.

  A glance at his clock reminded her she needed to get home before she had some explaining to do. Could she say she had just come over here in the middle of the night to visit? Could she lie with a straight face? What would William want her to do? Would he regret last night? She wanted to slip into her own bed and clutch her secret to her heart and relive the most glorious night of her life. Her secret.

  By the time she slipped into her bed her clock read six–forty. Clutching her pillow, she dreamed of William, not Walter. Walter?

  A ringing phone awoke her at ten o’clock. Why didn’t her mother answer it? She smelled a sweet fragrance, Evening in Paris? “Answer the phone, Sarah.” A woman’s voice said.

  Sarah opened one eye. Eloise sat on her bed. “Well, aren’t you gonna answer it? It might be important.”

  Sarah yawned and swallowed. “No, let the damned machine get it. That’s why we have one.” Sarah turned her back to her pesky ghost intruder.

  “Someone’s in a bad mood this morning.” That would be Mattie. “Late night? Or was it an early morning?”

  That did it! There was no missing the implication. How had the specter-pair known about this morning?

  Sarah sat up and propped her back against the headboard.

  “What are you two doing in my room? Can’t a girl get her beauty sleep?” She stared at each in turn. “I don’t have many days left to sleep in. I’ll have to be back at work soon!”

  Eloise laughed. “Sleep in? That’s one way to put it. So how was it?”

  “Now, Eloise,” Mattie scolded. “there are some things a lady just doesn’t discuss.”

  “You don’t expect me to believe women didn’t do such things in your day.” Eloise raised her plucked eyebrow.

  “Okay, girls, argue on your own time. You’re disturbing my sleep. Why?”

  Mattie rose and glided from the comfortable armed chair beside the bed and touched Sarah’s hand. “Dear girl, if you and William are, well, you know, intimate, you can marry him and can forget the Jackson fellow.” Mattie blushed.

  “Marry him?” Sarah scoffed. God, she and William had just changed a friendship to a ---to a what? These busy bodies were rushing things a bit. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  Eloise laughed. “We saw you go over to his house in your nightie and return before your parents woke. You looked well loved to me. Are you trying to tell me you two didn’t – make whoopee? Make love?”

  “Eloise,” Mattie’s voice was stern. “I do wish you would refrain from discussing such delicate things.”

  “Hey,” Sarah moved past her visitors. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” she paused, “and take a shower, and tend to my morning ablutions. In private, if you please.”

  Minutes later Sarah stood beneath the shower spray. Who’d have thought she would hit the jackpot the first time? Most of the girls she’d known had told about painful or boring first-time sex. Some admitted they had never had an orgasm. She had read the woman’s magazines. Some stories were so wild she hadn’t believed them.

  Maybe the reason she had never had sex was because of her parents’ upbringing. Maybe it was because she had figured something so intimate should be special. Maybe it was because her protector had steered her away from certain guys he thought wanted into her panties while she was still young.

  Having William around was like having a big brother who intimidated guys her age. It’s amazing what one night can do!

  Whatever the reason, se with William had been glorious.

  Even now she felt light-headed thinking about him. His hands had been magic. His mouth, his sexy, wicked mouth, had made her forget to think. Did a person learn to kiss like that or did it come naturally? Her throat went dry at the thought. The rough cloth on her nipples created sensations she had felt only in her dreams before last night. Now she understood what all the hoopla was about. Oh, yes!

  Could her ghosts really know? Guess she’d have to give Peter Jackson his walking papers. Even if nothing more came of her night with William, she’d never again take the blond haired man seriously.

  ##

  William smiled as he drifted into consciousness. He smelled Sarah’s fragrance on his pillow. He listened for her breathing. “Sarah?” Nothing. Sweeping his arm around he felt for her. Where was she? In his bathroom? No he didn’t hear water running.

  His alarm shrilled. Hadn’t he just fallen asleep? Was Sarah in his kitchen? He could surprise her by slipping his arms around her and pressing his morning erection against her.

  Rational thought burst that vision. She’d be back at her house. After all, she had parents who would expect her to sleep in her own bed, more’s the pity. He’d enjoyed having her share his big bed. Well, after last night things had changed.

  It had to be at least ten o’clock. He’d planned to sleep late, then head for the school library to continue his research.

  He rose and punched the snooze button, then plopped back in bed. Stretching, he remembered something had bothered him when he and Sarah had made love.

  Oh, yes. Now he remembered. In all the years he and Sarah had been together, he had seen her in all kinds of bathing suits. None could have revealed the birthmark under her breast, yet he had known it was there. How?

  There had been something so familiar about her responses to his loving. Maybe her responses had just been like those of his recent erotic fantasies of her. Yeah, that could explain it.

  He’d made love to other women before. Each had been different, bu
t last night had made him understand why he hadn’t stayed with any of them. The psychologist in him had thought the term “love-making” was a euphemism for having sex, especially with someone he respected and cared about.

  Now he knew better.

  Last night had been the first time he had really made love. It hadn’t been about something he wanted to do. It had been about something he desperately needed to do. It had been about sharing his heart, his soul. Sarah was his heart. She was his soul. He needed to tell her.

  The snooze shrilled again. Energized, he turned the alarm off and showered. For the first time he could remember he sang in the shower. Maybe he was capable of loving and being loved. He nearly cut himself shaving around his insistent smile.

  Chapter Six

  Sarah hadn’t been able to wipe the smile off her face since her shower. She had to force mind from William back to Sarita’s journals. They held information she needed. What had she to do with these people and her ghosts?

  Sarita’s journals surrounded Sarah on the den floor. Eloise and Mattie hovered and paced.

  “Please, Sarah, can’t you share any details about your early morning tryst with William?” Eloise wheedled. “Do you have any idea how long it’s been since I…?”

  Sarah slammed shut the journal she was trying to read. “I’m not discussing my love life! You two are ruining my concentration! Why don’t you go have an imaginary tea party somewhere else!”

  Eloise disappeared in a huff.

  Mattie, as usual, tried to make peace. “She was just so excited. She’ll get over her pout. We’ll leave you to your privacy, my dear.” Mattie brushed a butterfly soft kiss on Sarah’s forehead and vanished.

  Sarah couldn’t believe the hardships Sarita had endured. The journals told of her travels and her work for The Cause, before and after the war. The crazy thing was that the more Sarah read, the more she felt she recognized things, like she had been a part of it all.

  She really should have read them chronologically. Maybe she could have considered them more like research and been more objective.

  “Nuts, I must be nuts.”

  Her mind wandered to her memories of Walter, no William. Maybe she just romanticized the reunion so much because she’d felt a connection to her distant relative. Though very little had been written about Walter, Sarah felt she’d known him.

  Sarah, Sarah, Sarah, you’re losing it, girl.

  After making love with William, why would she even think about a character in an ancient journal of someone she didn’t even know? But she did know them.

  She had gone to William a virgin, really a virgin, but she felt she and William had been lovers forever. Damn! This journal project had become an obsession. It had become about more than finding some treasure and all about finding peace.

  Cousin Sarita should have been a writer. She’d ensnared Sarah with a compelling story she couldn’t put down. Maybe if she read every volume she’d be sated, like when she finished a good book. Then she’d get on with her life.

  The gigantic flower arrangement in the dining room filled the air, even in this room, with exotic scents. For one moment, when she’d seen the deliveryman at her front door, she’d expected the card to bear William’s name. The ostentatious display was so unlike him, but he’d never been her lover before.

  Nope. That Jackson fella, as the girls insisted on calling Peter, was still trying. His note begged her to meet him tonight. Maybe she could meet him and let him down easy.

  Rubbing the old necklace Sarah tilted her head back against the sofa. Her eyelids drooped and she drifted.

  ##

  Sarita fanned herself with her dainty handkerchief. Today was a real Georgia scorcher. No one worked in the hot sun on a day like today. Her daddy wouldn’t allow it. He allowed that risking servants and slaves coming down with heat stroke wasn’t good business.

  Lately Daddy talked a lot about the Yankees and their interference in the South’s business. Some of the men even believed there would be a war. Her hotheaded brothers said Georgia and other Southern states should just separate and make their own country. How absurd. Who ever heard of parts of a country just leaving. Women weren’t included in such discussions, but she had listened anyway.

  At the moment she had more pressin’ things to think about. She had sneaked out to their secret place.

  Soft grass cushioned her body. Sun warmed her face. Laughter erupted from deep in her belly. He loved her! She just knew it. Her hero loved her. Even now Sarita inhaled his scent from the coat beneath her shoulders.

  Whispers among the house slaves about what happens between a man and a woman had always disgusted her. She had never believed she would behave like the mating animals on the large farm, but today she would do whatever he wanted. She wanted to become a woman, his woman.

  A shadow blocked part of the sun from her face and Walter’s scent, mingled with those of saddle leather and sun, became stronger. She breathed in deeply, savoring his scent.

  “Open your eyes, Darlin’.” His deep voice seeped into her bones. Her body tingled with anticipation.

  She nodded her head and tried to obey. The sun was too bright, even with him blocking much of it.

  “Come on, Darlin’, look at me. We are not doin’ this, yet. You are so young. You can’t know how this will affect your life. I love you and I do need you but . . .”

  “Oh, really?” She reached up to pull his head down to her. “We’ll see about that.” She felt so brazen.

  She framed his face with her hands. His moist lips caressed her bare throat. He nibbled her chin. She wanted to giggle again, but his mouth grazed the swells of her breasts above the top of her bodice, pushing the red beaded necklace aside.

  No girlish giggle would come. Her stomach quivered. She was tired of waiting to become Walter’s woman. She had come here with every intention of giving herself to this man and she would. His strong hands molded her breasts, pushing them up and out. Heat pooled between her thighs beneath her skirt and petticoats.

  “Sarah, Sarah.“ Hot breath fanned her face.

  Her eyes flew open. William leaned over her. His hands cupped her cheeks. “William?”

  “You were expecting someone else?” William’s dark brows slanted in concern. “Darlin’ you were moaning. Something wrong?”

  Wrong? You might say that. “No, yes, I don’t know.”

  He sat on the floor beside her. “Tell me.”

  She didn’t know how she could, but his expression made it clear to her that she had no choice. He slid an arm around her shoulder and cradled her against his chest. She was reluctant to break contact but pulled away.

  “Darlin’?”

  He had called her that, too. The man in the dream had called her darlin’. Had the man been William? Had the man been Walter? Sarah gnawed the inside of her cheek. She moved his arm from around her shoulders, holding his hand in both of hers.

  “It’s just that, well, I’ve been having strange dreams.”

  William grinned, then the grin changed to a puzzled expression. “Go on.”

  She took a deep breath. “This isn’t going to be easy.”

  “With you, Sarah, nothing is ever easy.” His slight smile encouraged her.

  “William, you were here when I found the journals in the attic.” She swept her hand to the piles of books on the floor and picked up the one lying open in her lap.

  He nodded, not interrupting. He just looked into her eyes as though he could pull her thoughts into his.

  “I’ve been reading them.” She fingered the cinnabar necklace, rubbing one bead after the other. Her stomach churned and the room blurred. William stilled her restless caress of the beads and her stomach settled. Her blurring vision cleared. Ohmigod. No, it couldn’t be.

  “Sarah, go on.”

  “Sometimes when I read them I feel like I was there, like I’ve seen the places, felt the things Sarita wrote about.”

  “You’ve seen plenty of movies about the time period. Ma
ybe your Sarita is a good writer and could make anyone feel like that. What she wrote could be fiction, for all you know. Maybe she wanted to write novels.”

  “No, she was telling her story. Even this morning when we made love ---”

  “Are you saying you were thinking about the journals when we made love?”

  “No, I mean I felt like we had been lovers forever. I knew your body better than my own. I knew how you would ---”

  He squeezed her hand. “Princess, you and I have been together wearing bathing suits and ---”

  “But I’ve never caressed your body, or seen you aroused, or felt you inside me. I hadn’t even wanted you in the way a woman wants a man until ---”

  “Until you got turned on by the journals?” His eyes narrowed and he wasn’t smiling.

  “No, I’ve been dreaming about you for the last several months.” He smiled at that. “I just didn’t realize the man in my dreams was you.”

  He leaned close enough to kiss her. His lips were gentle, his tongue suggestive. “Princess, you should know what I’ve been dreaming about you for the past few months. I couldn’t believe the things we did.”

  She felt her body flush. Maybe she should just enjoy William and forget the journals and the lovers.

  William was in a quandary. Should he tell Sarah about the things he’d known about her body that he couldn’t have known. He had pushed the knowledge to the back of his mind, hoping he would find a logical reason for the intimate nature of that knowledge. Now he needed to reassure Sarah.

  “Okay. Let’s talk about things. When did you first feel things were not right?”

  Sarah took such a deep breath he felt the air wash his face. She looked so deep in thought, like she was arguing with herself. What could be so complicated? Reading the journals and seeing the things in the trunk had obviously created the déjà vu. If she’d just tell him, he could fix whatever was bothering her. So many secrets she must find a way to tell her parents.