The Passion Play

by Amelia Hart

  "So let me get this entirely straight," he said, and kept on stalking her one patient step at a time. "You're telling me there's no way I'll ever be quite enough of what you need for you to fall for me, but you're certain you're so wonderful if I just hang around you long enough I'm going head over heels and I'll get my heart broken. Is that about the size of it?"

  "Well when you say it like that you make it sound stupid and conceited," she said crossly, "Whereas all I'm trying to do is make sure I don't hurt you. I just don't think . . . you're seeing me clearly," she faltered.

  "Oh, I see you clearly all right," he said softly, with a gentle smile. "Clear as day. But I also see you don't have the right to tell me what I am or am not allowed to feel. It's one thing to say you don't want me, but it's totally different to say I shouldn't want you for my own good. That's patronizing."

  "Well then I don't want you," she said, lifted her chin and narrowed her eyes at him.

  "Now that, sweetheart, is a lie," he said quietly, stopped so close she had to stare straight up to meet his gaze. "Shall I prove it?”

  "I . . . no," she said, and looked away across the street, his chest less than an inch from her cheek. "I just . . ." she cast around for another reason to send him away, "I just can't bear to be with you when you . . . know so much about . . . about my marriage and everything that-" she waved her hand in a helpless gesture. "It's humiliating."

  "Felicity," he said, tucking her hair behind her ear, his fingertips sliding down the sensitive skin of her neck and making her shudder, "the humiliation isn't yours. It's his. He's the one who treated you badly. Not the other way around. And while frankly I'd like to hit him into next week for doing that to you, there's no way his actions get to dictate what we do or don't do together. Don't give him that power over you, sweetheart. That's just wrong."

  "You saying that doesn't change how I feel. It's not something I can choose. It just is. I'm hurt and humiliated and you're just too close to it all."

  He took her shoulders in a firm grip that warmed her, his thumbs drawing small circles on her chest. "Honestly I can hardly imagine respecting you more than I do, regardless of what he did. You trusted him. You were loyal to him. He didn't deserve you and he's proved that and now you're free. That should be the end of it and I hope it is because I really hate talking about him, you know?"

  "Say what you like but I'm not sleeping with you again."

  "Hell, Felicity," he growled at her, and she looked up, startled. "I didn't say any of that just to get into your pants. I'm not that kind of guy. I mean every word. Take me at face value."

  "Like I did Dan?" she fired back.

  "Do not compare me to that . . . Look, he was your husband and I'll try to be respectful that you chose him and you loved him once but frankly if you compare me to him and think we're alike I see red. I am not Dan King."

  "Yes, well I believed him and look where it got me. I have no way of knowing if you're saying something you really mean or just what you think I want to hear so I'll sleep with you but really it hardly matters because I'm not going to sleep with you anyway."

  "Fine," he said, and his jaw was set and he was breathing fast. "Don't do anything you don't want to. But one thing I will be doing is coming dancing when you do. I want to know you're safe."

  "Oh great. If I needed watching over, which I don't, you'd make a fantastic watch dog, there every second night," she taunted sarcastically, and saw his nostrils flare.

  "Look, it's true I'm not available-"

  "I don't want you to be available. I don't need you to be there. I'm not even going to be there."

  He lifted his head and frowned, watching her intently. "What? You're not? Why not?"

  "I just . . . well I've moved on. I'm onto another project now."

  "That was a project? To achieve what?"

  Her gaze flicked up at him and she blushed despite herself.

  "Oh. Oh," and he had the audacity to laugh. "I'm the project?"

  "Not you specifically," she hissed at him. "I just wanted to enjoy myself a little and you were convenient."

  "Well, wasn't that lucky," he drawled, still amused. She wanted to wipe that smug look off his face, and when he asked, "So what's your next project?" still grinning, she got her chance.

  "To have a baby," she said.

  The smile disappeared as if it had never been. He went white.

  "A baby? With . . ." he cleared his throat, "with someone in particular?"

  "Naturally I can't do it on my own," she said coolly.

  "Do you have a specific . . . father in mind, I mean," he said carefully.

  "I'm in the process of choosing," she said, making it sound like a more concrete activity than it was just yet.

  "So you're going to let some stranger have intimate role in your life? To get you pregnant? Help you raise a child?" He looked horrified, and now he was asking these questions she regretted bringing it up at all. She had hardly intended for him to be the second person with whom she talked about it, before she had it all straight in her own head.

  "It doesn't have to be a stranger, but that's the way I'm leaning. Less hassle."

  "Less hassle? You're talking about having a child and less hassle in the same sentence? The two concepts don't even belong in the same universe. I don't . . ." he drove his hands into his hair and turned away, clutching at the roots. Swung back. "Look, having a kid is a huge big deal. No one willingly goes into it without support."

  "I'm not without support, but yes, I'm going there willingly."

  "Why? Why do that to yourself?"

  "I'm not doing it to myself. I'm doing it for myself.”

  "But what's the hurry? Why not do things the right way?"

  She gave a bitter little laugh. "Oh, great, yes, the right way. That's sure to solve every problem. Just like the last time I tried it. Believe me, I'm a champion of doing things the right way and I'm not going to wait a second longer. This is too important." She glared at him, daring him to challenge her again on how she should live her own life.

  He stared back, consternation all over his face, his fists clenched and his breath coming fast. Then he opened his mouth and she steeled herself for more of an argument.

  "Pick me," he said softly, intensely.

  "Pardon?"

  "Pick me. I'm from good stock. Healthy. Long-lived. I'm good with kids too. They always like me."

  "I . . . No."

  "Why not?"

  "Because that's exactly the opposite of not getting involved."

  "You're going to have to get involved with someone. Why not me?"

  "Because it's just . . . I wasn't thinking of you when I . . ."

  "So I'm good enough for a screw but not for procreation? I don't think you've thought this through, sweetheart," he said silkily, and he stepped forward and picked her up in an effortless motion that annoyed her, carried her to the door and opened it one-handed, his other forearm a bar under her bottom. He really was a caveman. He closed the door behind him and in the dimness of the hall he let her slide slowly down the front of his body so she felt the hard bumps and ridges of it. "Just think. A professional athlete. All that coordination, that talent, perfect for passing on to your child. I'm fast, I'm good with my hands, big and strong. That's a powerful lot of great features right there. You should snap me up."

  "You're too young."

  "All the better. Healthy sperm and plenty of it."

  She felt heat rise under her skin. He held her by the upper arms, a little too tight, as if trying to squeeze his conviction into her. He stared at her, his eyes reading every flickering expression on her face as she tried to think of some way out of this.

  "And think of making that baby, Felicity," he said, his voice husky. "No awkward stranger. Just me, deep inside you again and again. You know we're good together. You'd enjoy it." Those words were a promise, made with lowered eyelids and a sensual curl of his lip that brought her a quiver deep inside. "I'd enjoy it." Her body was still pressed agains
t his and she felt the rise of his erection, a potent punctuation to his words. He gripped the base of her skull in his big hands and it softened her taut muscles until she felt like a kitten suddenly limp, boneless. He kissed her briefly with passionate fervency and then said: "Everything about me that makes your body crave mine is a biological impulse. My pheromones telling you you've found the perfect father for your child. You could search a long time to find a match that good again."

  "I . . . you're not smart enough."

  "Beg pardon?"

  "Intelligence is very important to me."

  He frowned at her. "Say what? I'm intelligent."

  "Well I'm not saying you're stupid. It's just it’s all on a sliding scale, you know." She felt awful to say it out loud, but how was she going to convince him she was serious otherwise?

  "Dammit. I am smart. What do you want? SAT scores? College grades?"

  "You went to college?"

  "Yes, I went to college," he said with exasperation. "Studied hard. Got good marks. I’m not just a jock you know. If I act dumb every time I see you it's your fault."

  "My fault?"

  "Yes. I can barely think straight when I'm around you. Let alone impress you with my debonair wit and charm."

  "You have those?" she said, unable to resist teasing him a little, he looked so indignant at the idea she thought he was not clever enough.

  "Yes!" Then when he saw she was grinning up at him he relaxed and smiled back at her. "Yes," he repeated more gently. "I'm a catch, you know. If I didn't make the best first impression it's because you're stunning and I was distracted.

  "Is that how it went, is it?" she murmured.

  "Yeah. Totally. So revise everything you think you know about me and insert," here he held one hand over his head, opening and closing it like a neon sign flashing, "sophisticated, suave and intellectually superior."

  "Really? Very modest."

  "Forget modesty. I tried that and you keep trying to dump me. From here on in it's honesty all the way. Stop laughing. I'm pretty much depending on it at some point you'll let me take you back to bed," here he crowded her, nudged her gently against the hall table then lifted her up onto it and cupped her breasts, "and when we've spent a few weeks there-"

  "Weeks?"

  "Weeks," he said firmly, allowing no doubt, "then I'll be able to put my thoughts together into some vague semblance of order and seduce you properly, body and mind."

  "That sounds a bit horse before cart."

  "Well it's not me who had the bright idea to find a stud to sire a child. Apparently there's some sort of deadline here. I can be persuaded to mess up the proper order of things."

  "Look, I'm not at all certain you're the right guy for the job-"

  "But there's some doubt, isn't there? We can work with that. Tell you what. I'll wear condoms the first few weeks, we'll get over the hurdle of my mental incompetence and when we're both real satisfied then you can ask me to father your child. How's that for compromise?" He reared back to beam at her.

  She looked at him and opened her mouth to speak but found she had nothing to say. It was not that she agreed he was the right man to impregnate her, but she did not have a concrete reason to refuse him either and everything he had said was true about both his physical qualifications and his sex appeal. Her body did crave his, more than made sense to her. Right now it was excited to have him pressing hard and insistent into the core of her and she really just wanted an excuse to say 'yes' and let him bear her off to the bedroom. It might be weak and reckless but it was also real and good, somehow all those things together and she could not sort one from another and make a decision.

  He kissed her again, the slippery wetness of his tongue and lips confusing the issue even further.

  "Say yes," he urged her. "Yes."

  "Yes," she repeated on a sigh.

  Without hesitation he lifted her and – just like she wanted – carried her to her room, her legs wrapped around his waist, arms resting on his broad shoulders, feeling light as a dandelion seed to be borne so easily. He went down on the bed without letting her go, one outstretched arm caught their weight to lower them gently and now he rested fully on her, pushing her legs even further apart.

  As he gazed at her she thought she saw a new light of possession glowing in his eye and it should have raised her hackles but it did not. Before she could think about that more his mouth was on hers, his whole body against hers from head to foot in a gliding rub that made her writhe against him.

  He stripped her of her gloves and just enough of her and his own clothes to get at her. She let go of thought deliberately, focused in on this moment with this big male body hot and hard and urgent for her, pushing her down beneath him as if staking a claim and she allowed him, the primeval nature of it appealing to her.

  When he stopped, poised at the entrance to her body, his palm cupping her breast, and said: "Condom?" she hesitated, tempted to tell him 'no,' to just go ahead, which was crazy.

  "Yes," she said instead, quivered at the mistake she had nearly made and thought she must be more cautious and remember exactly what this was, and what it was not.

  He had brought a condom in the pocket of his jeans and he pulled it out and put it on before returning to slide inside her in one smooth motion, all his bodyweight holding her still and just when she thought she needed air he reared back and thrust again and for the first time she looked up at him as he brought himself home inside her. He was watching her face at an awkward angle given how big he was, and his expression was dark and brooding.

  But when she looked at him it lightened, the corners of his eyes creased in a welcoming smile. She smiled back tentatively and then closed her eyes again, reached down to hold his buttocks inside his jeans, to draw him deep inside her.

  She imagined his penis was naked, that he wore no condom, that at any moment the gush of his hot semen would fill her and stay inside her to create new life and to her astonishment felt an orgasm sweep in out of nowhere and crash over her, to leave her shuddering.

  His rhythm quickened. "I like to watch you come," he murmured. "It turns me on so much," and for a moment she was disconcerted. She was not used to talk during sex. Dan had not . . .

  No. She was never going to let him in again at a moment like this. He did not deserve any place in her life.

  She was angry when she pulled Luke to her and set her teeth in his pectoral through his shirt, angry when she bit him hard and dug her fingernails into the small of his back, punished him for something that was not his fault.

  He grunted but he did not question it, let her use him, a small catharsis, and when she lifted his shirt and soothed the bite mark with her tongue he hissed a quiet "yes" and quickened again, driving her up the bed. She called out quietly with the force of it, surprised herself with the porn star sound, repeated the glad cry, head flung back and heels pushing on the bed to lift her pelvis to meet him. It was earthy and wild, visceral, and she felt strange and new, that she had found an unknown part of herself with him.

  She clung tight to him and never mind how she was jostled, how the pounding of him shook her, it was good. "Yes," she told him, and liked the sound of it on her lips, the power of the word, of the choice.

  "Yes." When he came they said it together and again she opened her eyes to find his closed this time so she got to enjoy watching him privately for a moment, saw the weight of his ecstasy upon him and how he shook with it. It aroused her and created a subtle orgasmic ripple through her inner muscles to see him vulnerable and shattered like that as poured his completion into her.

  It made her feel tender and affectionate, and this time she did not fight the emotions but just let them rest inside her, fresh and new.

  He rolled to one side and drew her up his chest far enough that he could drop sweet little kisses on her face.

  "Hey, you're not supposed to get all-" she started.

  "Don't tell me what I'm supposed to do or not do," he chided. "I'll look after you the way I
please and the only feedback I will take into consideration is if you like it or not. There is no 'supposed'. We make our own rules."

  So she opened her mouth to tell him she did not like the little cherishing touches and then found she could not truthfully say that. Instead she was silent, and he who had paused to listen to her went back to kissing her with a satisfied air. Then he held her close, his hands on her skin under her remaining clothes.

  It grew darker and she knew she should really get up and draw the curtains against the chill but she did not want to leave his hold and the brief contentment she had found there. She wondered if he was dozing but although his breathing came and went steadily there was no hint of a snore so she could not tell for sure.

  "Luke?"

  "Hmmm?"

  "I thought you might be asleep."

  "No, not asleep. I wouldn't dare. If I don't keep an eye on you you might start thinking again, and that's nothing but trouble."

  "I've decided to stop trying to make the rules and make it all work out right to save you from yourself."

  "Oh, well . . . good. If you're going to have thoughts like that you have my permission to go ahead. You just worry about yourself for a change, or maybe don't worry at all but just enjoy your life and have fun."

  She sighed. "I'm trying. I'm really trying.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  She woke a little before him and lay in the dimness of the quiet room, feeling the warmth of his arm thrown over her, his hair-roughened thigh between hers. Her back was against his chest and he had one hand on her breast.

  Looking at the faint light easing in around the thick curtains she thought she should probably wake him up. Odds were good that he had not thought to set an alarm. He had been thoroughly distracted last night. She smiled a little to think how distracted, a curl of satisfaction unraveling in her to have pleased him so thoroughly, matched him as an equal, a lover, despite how unsure she still felt about the whole thing.

  Slowly she was coming to think there was some alchemy between them, that he could send her out of her head, make her focus instead on the moment they shared, the passion and fire. It was easy to be ardent when for once she was not worrying about getting things right or if she looked okay with all her clothes off – was instead consumed by her desire to possess him, wring him dry, get closer and closer as if she would just devour him. It was amazingly animal in fact, but not in a bad way. Just unfamiliar, powerful and earthy. She had not known she had that woman within her. Oh, the noises she made! Embarrassing at first but he obviously liked it so much she relaxed and just let go.