A touch of love

by Conn, Phoebe

  They drifted lazily, neither speaking nor needing to, until Jesse brought her fingertips to his lips. "I want to try something new," he confided softly. Keeping her fingers laced in his, he drew her hand down over the flatness of his belly. He was hard again, and she needed no further coaxing to bring him to the edge of another climax.

  He leaned over her then and smiled. ''This should be just like dancing, only better. We need to get really close/' He teased her with his fingertips. "And then just barely move. You take the upward stroke, and I'll take the down."

  Aubrey wasn't sure what Jesse had in mind, but once he had entered her, he pressed close rather than propping

  his weight on his elbows. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and her legs around his thighs. After a few tentative adjustments, they found a pleasurable alignment that allowed for slow, deep penetration rather than fast thrusts. At first Aubrey felt only Jesse's weight, but the sensation gradually dissolved in delicious tremors the crept up her spine and made her cling to him more tightly.

  They had found the perfect rhythm, and each stroke brought them closer to the ultimate union, until conscious effort was impossible and their bodies seized control. In a final surge, they crossed the threshold of paradise together in a climax that shook them clear to their souls. Barely conscious, Aubrey had to remind herself to breathe, but at that heavenly moment, she would have joyously welcomed death.

  When at long last her mind cleared sufficiendy, she wondered where Jesse had learned such a thrilling technique, and then just as quickly decided she didn't really want to know. She supposed there was a limit to the amount of time they could spend in bed, but she doubted she would live to reach it. Almost from the beginning of her marriage she had felt something was missing, and while she still could not give the exquisite ingredient a name, she had definitely found it with Jesse. When he at last moved aside, she still felt too sated to do more than smile.

  Jesse took one look at Aubrey's beatific expression and regarded their latest experiment as a complete success. "That was good, wasn't it?"

  "Better than good," Aubrey insisted sleepily. "There's a magic in you that just never ends."

  "Well, let's hope not." Jesse drew her back into his arms and held her tight. She felt so good to him, and unlike mere magic, she was real. He couldn't see past that afternoon, but for now, it was more than enough for him.

  The telephone rang just as Aubrey began to set the table for dinner. She let the answering machine in the study pick up, but reached for the extension in the kitchen when she heard Trisha's voice. "Hi, Trish." She glanced toward Jesse and rolled her eyes as her assistant began to talk in a frantic rush. "Give me a minute to think," she begged, then slid her palm over the receiver.

  "Shelley just called Trish to tell her she isn't feeling well and wouldn't need a ride to the seminar in the morning. Trish says she heard Ricky Vance swearing in the background and doesn't know what to do."

  Jesse was seated at the table, where he had been riffling though the tabloid he had bought earlier and entertaining Aubrey with a sample of the more audacious articles. He rose and tossed the tacky publication aside. "Tell her to sit tight. I've been dying to meet Ricky, and this is as good a time as any."

  "You're not going anywhere without me," Aubrey replied, and after telling Trish she and Jesse would handle it, she grabbed her purse and followed him out the door.

  No fool, Jesse took the time to make certain no one had tampered with his truck, then he and Aubrey drove to Shelley's bungalow. A Harley-Davidson motorcycle was parked by the porch, and Jesse began to laugh the instant he saw it. "I just can't picture sweet little Shelley riding on the back of that thing. Can you?"

  "No. Ricky was driving a beat up Dodge the last time I saw him." Aubrey had refrained from asking Jesse what he intended to do. Because she was positive Ricky Vance deserved whatever grief Jesse gave him, she wasn't even tempted to ask him to go easy on the young man . As they started up the walk, Ricky stepped out on the porch with a bottle of Red Weasel ale in his hand. He drained it in a

  single gulp, then tossed the empty bottle into the flowerbed.

  He was six feet tall, with a thin, angular build, and dark curly hair that brushed his shoulder blades. Dressed in a black T-shirt, Levi's, and boots, he thrust his hips forward in a menacing pose and glared at them. His cheeks were shadowed by several days' growth of beard, and while he may have once been a charming boy, there was nothing appealing about him now.

  *'Shelley's not working for you anymore," he called to Aubrey. "I'm taking care of her now."

  Aubrey would have walked right up to the door, but Jesse caught her elbow to hold her back. "That's a commendable desire," she replied. "Where are you working?"

  Ricky raked the sole of his right boot across the edge of the porch to dislodge a hunk of mud. "We'll get by," he boasted.

  "We need to speak with Shelley," Jesse announced calmly.

  Ricky eyed Jesse with an insolent glance, then dismissed him with a shrug. "If you have something to say to her, just tell me, and I'll give her the message."

  "Let's start with a message for you," Jesse replied. He moved over to the Harley, raised the kickstand, and then gave the heavy motorcycle a shove to knock it over on its side where Ricky would never be able to right it on his own.

  "What the hell are you doing!" Ricky screamed, and he came off the porch in a flying leap. He doubled his hands into fists and raised them in a clear challenge.

  The commotion outdoors brought Shelley to the screen door. She was holding Annie on her hip. She had obviously been crying, and Annie was clinging to her with a terrified grasp. "Leave him alone, Ricky!" she screamed, and Annie began to cry in a thin, warbling wail.

  "Close the door, Shelley/' Jesse directed firmly. He tossed his hat to Aubrey, and knowing Ricky would count that split second of inattention as the perfect opening, he anticipated his blow and blocked it easily.

  "I've yet to meet a punk who could fight," Jesse taunted him. "Do you really think bossing Shelley around makes you a man?"

  Aubrey dodged around Jesse and hurried up the porch steps. Shelley pushed open the screen door to welcome her inside, but neither young woman wanted to miss the fight. Annie had burrowed her face into Shelley's shoulder, and couldn't see a thing.

  "I told him I didn't want anything more to do with him, and he just wouldn't listen," Shelley explained tearfully. "He wanted me to leave Annie with my mother to raise and go away with him. I refused, and he was getting so loud I was afraid one of the neighbors would call the police. Maybe they already have."

  Aubrey kept her eye on Jesse while Shelley described Ricky's demands. As usual, he had refused to acknowledge or provide for Annie, and wanted Shelley to follow wherever whim took him. Jesse was merely toying with the young man, and flailing wildly, Ricky couldn't land a single blow while Jesse struck him repeatedly. Ricky already had a bloody nose, and growing dizzy, slipped and went down on one knee.

  Jesse leaned down to grasp a handful of Ricky's T-shirt and hauled him to his feet. "You are easily one of the most pitiful excuses for a man I've ever seen. You could have a beautiful wife and adorable daughter, and instead all you've got is grease under your nails." Jesse lifted the disheveled young man clear off his feet, and then dropped him in the grass where he lay sprawled in a heap.

  "Do you want to have him arrested?" Jesse asked Shelley.

  Shelley gave her head a frantic shake. "No. I'll just spend the night at my mother's, and he'll be gone by tomorrow."

  Aubrey noted the confusion in Shelley's eyes and doubted she was thinking clearly. "Are you certain that's what you really want to do?" she asked.

  Shelley hugged Annie more tighdy. "He told me this was my last chance to come with him, and I'm not taking it. I want something better for us, and he doesn't even understand what that is."

  Jesse knelt down beside Ricky and took hold of a hank of hair to lift his head off the damp grass. "I want you to pay real close attention, Ric
k." He waited until the look in Ricky's eyes cleared from muddled to an intelligent gleam. "Good boy. Now you can lie out here in the yard until you feel better, and then you're going to find some friends to help you get that Harley out of here. I'm going to keep a close eye on Shelley from now on, and if she has a reason to complain about you ever again, then we'll just have ourselves a re-match. You understand what I mean? You stay away from Shelley, or I'm going to make you real sorry that you didn't."

  The sound of a distant siren filled Ricky with hope, and his battered features mirrored his relief. "Think you're going to be rescued?" Jesse asked. "Think again."

  Aubrey sensed the violence welling up inside Jesse and called to him before he could give Ricky Vance a final reminder to stay out of Shelley's life. "Don't do it," she ordered as she came out on the porch. "He knows just how easily you could break his hands. You needn't do it. This time."

  Jesse released Ricky and straightened up. He stared at Aubrey a long minute, then appeared to reluctandy concede the point. "Yeah, I guess you're right, darlin'. He'll need two good hands to ride that noisy machine out of town."

  Aubrey hurried Shelley and Annie out to Jesse's truck and dropped them off at her mother's with the assurance they would return quickly should the need arise. "I do think you ought to take the day off tomorrow. We've nothing scheduled for the week, and I'll talk with you before next Saturday." Aubrey said.

  "All right. Thank you. Just give me a minute." Shelley took Annie inside, then came back outside to speak with Jesse. "Ricky isn't mean," she stressed. "He'd never hurt us. He's just young is all, and too self-centered to take care of a family. By the time he grows up, Annie and I won't need him anymore, but we sure needed you tonight. I want to thank you again for what you did.''

  Jesse wasn't used to receiving such unabashed admiration, and he sure didn't want Shelley transferring her affections to him. He slid his arm around Aubrey's shoulders and hugged her close to make his choice plain. "You have a good night, Shelley, and kiss your little girl for us."

  "Thank you. I will." Shelley paused beneath the porch light, looked back at them, and waved.

  "Come on," Jesse whispered under his breath. "Let's get out of here before playing hero gets to be too much for me."

  Aubrey was becoming adept at climbing up into his truck, and was as eager as he to get away. "How are your hands?" she asked.

  "I can drive home," Jesse assured her, "then soak them a bit. Where did you get the idea that I'd break Ricky's hands? It was positively inspired, by the way, but did you really believe I'd have done it?"

  Aubrey chose her words with care. "I sensed you were about to do something more to him. At least, that was the way it sounded and I didn't want to see it."

  "I was just trying to scare him into behaving himself. I don't go around stomping defenseless men's hands. I hope

  the police do find Rick stretched out on the lawn and take him in. A night in jail would do him a lot of good."

  "Are you speaking from experience?"

  Jesse chuckled way back in his throat. "It's been awhile but yes, I've spent a night or two in jail and it was definitely a worthwhile experience."

  "I can't imagine how."

  Jesse pulled into her driveway, cut the engine, and set the brake. "Let's just say it gives a man the opportunity to contemplate the error of his ways."

  The light beside the back door provided enough illumination for Aubrey to read his expression clearly. He was teasing her again, and yet for a moment when he had had Ricky Vance at his mercy, she had felt more than a mere threat of violence meant to keep the young man in line. There was far more to Jesse Barrett than she had had time to explore, and while she had come to appreciate the side of him that gave so generously of love, she knew he must possess a dark side that she would be a fool to ignore.

  She shivered and Jesse hurried her inside the house, but it had not been the temperature of the air that had touched her, but a premonition of something bad to come.

  presentation, but first I'd like to take a few minutes to discuss my week."

  Jesse cocked a brow, but Aubrey had no intention of revealing any of the intimate details of their budding relationship. Instead, she related only a request from a former teacher to look into the Ferrells' disappearance, and how inappropriate her talents were for such a task. 'It's unfortunate that my effort to be helpful was misinterpreted by the media, but I'm sure many of you have had a similar experience when your actions were misconstrued, if not by the press, then by an acquaintance or friend.

  "Indeed, we all have difficulty communicating with each other, whether it's simply in being understood, or in effectively making our needs known. Now I'd love to hear how some of you handled the stress you encountered last week. Were any of you better able to cope?"

  Several hands were raised, and Aubrey guided the ensuing discussion to limit its focus to the relaxation techniques she had introduced. Some accounts were humorous, others serious in tone, but she succeeded in ending whatever speculation there might have initially been as to her psychic abilities. As for Jesse, she introduced him as she had at the seminar for the Wells Fargo Bank employees, and he repeated his experience using creative imagery on the rodeo circuit.

  With the morning off to a good start, Trisha sidled up to Gardner Evans. "How was your weekend?" she asked softly.

  The engineer was startled by the question, then shook his head to warn her he was too busy tending his equipment to chat. Trisha was dressed in a hot pink outfit he considered much too distracting for a workshop stressing creative imagery, but because Aubrey didn't seem to feel the bright colors Trisha wore were inappropriate, he had never offered his opinion. He had worn another of his new shirts

  and ties, but still felt as though he was wearing a disguise rather than his own clothes.

  "You look very handsome," Trisha whispered, and then leaving Gardner blushing a bright red, she moved away. At the morning break, she again attempted to engage him in conversation, but still had no success in drawing out the shy young man. Giving up, she waited until the seminar adjourned for the day, then confided in Aubrey.

  "Shelley was dead wrong. Gardner just seems annoyed whenever I try to talk with him. Maybe he thinks I'm cute, or likes my legs, but he doesn't care about me at all. I'm going out again with the banker tonight anyway. He makes no secret of his interest in me, and I can't help but be flattered."

  "Even if he's a mite dull?" Jesse asked.

  "You were right." Trisha squirmed with embarrassment. "I hadn't given myself enough time to get to know him. Now I can't help but wonder if I might have let Mr. Right slip by before I'd realized who he was."

  Trisha looked sincerely pained by that prospect, and Aubrey was quick to reassure her. "Then he couldn't have really been the right man for you," she insisted, "or he'd have stayed."

  Trisha shrugged slightly. "Well, let's hope he would have, but sometimes I'm afraid we're all hopelessly out of sync." She looked over her shoulder and watched Gardner pack up the last of his gear. "I wonder who Gardner's trying to impress. It sure wasn't me."

  Jesse kept his mouth shut, but he thought it likely Gardner hadn't really expected his effort to enhance his looks to work so well with Trisha, and when it had, he had been intimidated rather than proud. Jesse didn't have the time to hold the young man's hand and talk him through a date, but after having prompted him to make a necessary change, he didn't want Gardner to slump back into his

  baggy clothes and painfully shy ways. He walked over to him and again offered his help.

  "And I'm not talking about your equipment," he whispered. "I advised you not to warm to Trisha too quickly, but you're carrying your lack of interest to an obnoxious extreme."

  Gardner slammed a bright orange extension cord on his dolly. He wiped his hands on his pants before he remembered he was wearing a new pair, then jammed them into his pockets. "I'm never going to have your finesse with women. It's useless to try."

  Jesse had always regarded
his success with women as a natural gift, and didn't believe finesse was the proper term to describe it "It's sincerity that impresses women," he argued. "They want to feel they're genuinely liked, just the way men do. Now what's the real problem here? Did you only want Trisha when you thought you couldn't have her? Now I realize worshipping her from afar saved you the embarrassment of asking her for a date, but I can't really believe you enjoy being alone."

  Unwilling to discuss his most private emotions, Gardner turned sullen. "Are you licensed to do counseling?"

  Jesse laughed. "No, but I've definitely got the practical experience to qualify. Shelley had a real rough night last night, but I think she's finally seen the last of Ricky Vance. If you've no plans for tonight, maybe you could give her a call and cheer her up. Sometimes a man just needs a woman friend, and I know Shelley admires you."

  Gardner looked dismayed. "Why?"

  Jesse was ready for him, and slid his arm around Gardner's shoulders. "You're the kind of man a woman can depend on. That means a lot."

  Gardner nodded slightly. "I'm reliable. So what? That's not very exciting."

  "Not every woman craves excitement. In fact, that's

  probably the last thing Shelley wants. I'll bet you could be real romantic if you put your mind to it, and Shelley deserves some sympathetic attention."

  Pulling away, Gardner grabbed hold of his dolly. " Shelley has a daughter, and I don't want a ready-made family."

  Instantly, Jesse saw Gardner for the fool he was and raised his hands. ''Excuse me. I mistook you for someone with character. That's the last mistake I'll make with you." He walked away, but as soon as he and Aubrey were on their way home, he gave vent to his anger.