All I Need

by Kathryn Shay

  “You know.”

  “Because you got hurt?”

  “At first. But when I moved past that, I couldn’t find anybody I could trust until Greg. He and I have only been dating six months so we haven’t been...together.” She blew the hair out of her eyes.

  Five years! That was a long time to be celibate. Gently, he brushed his hand down her hair. “Then we should slow down.”

  “I was afraid this would turn you off.”

  He bumped against her. “Not at all. Primed and ready to pump. And it’ll get worse, because I’m going to touch the living daylights out of you.”

  * * *

  Now, he was killing her. She lay, spread out before him, and his hands roamed everywhere. “Close your eyes, love.”

  She did. And the sensations intensified. He kneaded her breasts, too gently, laved her nipples too lightly and cupped her without enough pressure. The ministrations made the skin over her whole body tingle. She squirmed on the bed. “Joe. Please. This isn’t enough.”

  “Got it.” He did everything all over again, only harder.

  Soon, she was arching off the mattress. “I’m ready.”

  “Do you have anything?”

  “Condoms in the nightstand.”

  “I meant gel.”

  “That, too.”

  Rummaging in her drawer, he decided to wait to ask her later about keeping those things in case. He held up a condom. “These aren’t five years old, are they?”

  “Nope, up to date.”

  He rolled one on, covered his finger with gel and slowly inserted it inside. She was tight so he administered more. Then he lay back and helped her straddle him. “It’ll be better if you control things, at least at first.”

  She lifted her hips and, inch-by-inch, settled on him.

  “This okay?”

  “Great. No pain. I’m...stretched, though. You’re, um, big.”

  That made his body jerk. “Careful what you say, girl.”

  Laughing, she leaned over so she could kiss his pecs. “Big and really, really hard.”

  His hands tightened on her hips. She straightened and began to move. Up and down, up and down. Suddenly her body took over, increased the tempo, the pressure. Spasms blasted through her, out of her. She climaxed fast and hard as she heard him cry out her name in his own, bucking release.

  * * *

  Holly lay in his arms, and Joe felt contented for the first time since...he couldn’t remember. Her hair, brushing his chin, smelled lemony and was a tumbled mess from his hands. She opened her beautiful blue eyes and looked over. They shone with so much emotion, for him, that he got choked up. To cover it, he kissed her nose. “Feel good?”

  “In more ways than one.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m sated from the pleasure.” She looked away, then back at him. “But I’ve been miserable since Tuesday. It’s only a couple of days, but I was really unhappy.”

  Her innocent honesty brought forth his own. “Me too, honey.” He shook his head. “And as for our first tiff, if I’d known you didn’t know about your grandmother wanting to move, or your grandpa didn’t know she asked me, I would have checked with you before saying yes.”

  “I came to that conclusion.”

  “As for yesterday, I was being stupid about Francey. I should have talked to you about her. Like before.”

  “And I shouldn’t have started the whole mess to begin with. I think part of it was I got scared of what might happen between us.”

  He tipped her chin. “Thank you for telling me that.”

  She ran a hand over his chest. “Should we talk about us or wait till the morning?”

  “We don’t have to talk about us. We’re going to see each other, exclusively, and find out where this goes. No more dates with Rossi, or any other guy who decides he wants you.”

  “You’re pretty macho, Lieutenant Santori.”

  “I guess.”

  “Then I suppose you should back your words up with some macho actions.”

  He flipped her over fast. “You want macho, I’ll show you macho, babe.”

  * * *

  The next morning, Holly nestled against Joe’s chest. Quietly, so not to wake him, she inhaled the scents of him that hovered in the room. Thank you, God.

  Today was Saturday. She usually awoke out of habit at six like on weekdays, but it seemed later than that. She glanced over and saw the reds dials on her nightstand proclaim it nine a.m. Wow! Even though they hadn’t gone to sleep until three, then awoke at five to make delicious love again, she was surprised by how long they’d slept in.

  And since she didn’t know Joe’s schedule, she hoped he didn’t have to work today. Should she wake him just in case?

  “Hmm.” He rubbed his hand up and down her arm. “’Morning, love.”

  “Good morning.” She kissed his chest. “I hope you don’t have to work this morning.”

  “Nah. My day shift was this week. I only went in for Thursday and Friday, but I’m off until the night shift later next week.”

  “You firefighters with all that time off.” Her tone was sassy.

  “Said the woman who’s about to go on summer vacation.”

  “Touché. Want some breakfast?”

  “In a minute.”

  He tipped her chin and kissed her. She kissed him back, and was shocked to feel a slice of desire go through her. Almost at the same time she felt his erection against her hip. She fell further into the kiss, running her hand over his chest, and lower to his raw, hard length. Up and down. Up and down.

  “Shit, Holly, don’t do that unless you’re going to go all the way with it.”

  Though she hadn’t experienced much of oral sex, she suddenly wanted to. She told him so.

  He closed his eyes. “I think I died and went to heaven.”

  He threw the covers off and she slid down the bed. “You have to tell me if I’m doing this right.” She began to touch him.

  “More friction...a little harder...now your mouth...pull, that...” He went off like a shot.

  After, Holly came up to her knees, her hair sticking out all over and a glorious smile on her face. “How’d I do?”

  He laughed. “You did great, sweetheart.”

  “Whew!”

  “Now, it’s your turn.”

  Her eyes danced. “It is?”

  “Yep. And I’m gonna make you come more than once.”

  Afterward, they dozed and it was eleven before they dragged themselves out to the kitchen.

  “I’ll make breakfast for you,” she said.

  “Great. What can I do?”

  She loved that he didn’t take for granted women doing things for him. “Nothing. I’m making French toast, and I have some fruit salad left from yesterday.”

  He kissed her nose and sat at the table. She made him a Keurig coffee and set it in front of him. He sipped it, watching as she ground the beans, got the pot going, then removed the stuff from the refrigerator and set the skillet on the stove. “So, what does Holly Michaels do during the summer?”

  “Take an in-service course to improve my teaching skills or base of knowledge. And plan for the following year.”

  “I thought maybe you just lounged at the pool.”

  Was that another knock?

  “Kidding, Holly. What else?”

  “I also do volunteer work.”

  “Where?”

  “Mondays at a soup kitchen and Thursdays at the downtown battered women’s shelter.”

  “Ah. A good Samaritan.”

  That sounded...snotty. Mellow, though, from the lovemaking, she ignored it. “Nah. I want to make the world a better place.”

  “Teaching isn’t enough?”

  At the stove, she looked over her shoulder, considering his question. “I guess not.”

  “I always thought my service to humanity was firefighting.”

  “Well, I don’t exactly run into burning buildings for a living. You could probably get away
with that with the woman upstairs.”

  He laughed at her feminist phrasing. Then, seriously, “Do you think that’s enough?”

  Knowing she had to be honest, she shrugged. “You could consider some volunteering.”

  At the counter next to the stove, she beat several eggs in a bowl, then cut thick slices of Italian bread and soaked them in the mixture. The pungent scent of coffee filled the room.

  He asked, “Did you make plans for today?”

  “The Memorial Art Gallery summer art show.”

  “Art as in paintings?”

  “Jewelry, too. Some woodworking. Other crafts.”

  His brow furrowed. “Are you going with Rossi?”

  “No, but after what happened between us last night, I decided to call him and ask to see him after the art show.”

  “About not dating, right?”

  She gave him a saucy, sideways look. “Yes.”

  “Good girl.”

  God, he was cute.

  “What about your day?”

  “Beach volleyball. I belong to this team of thirty-somethings that gets together every Saturday during the summer. We play a few tournaments in Rockford, and take some road trips out of the city.”

  “That sounds like fun.”

  “Want to join?”

  She rolled her eyes. “I don’t think so. Yoga and the weights I’m doing at the gym are plenty. Besides, it’ll be pleasant enough to walk every day now, so I’d rather be outside.”

  “Volleyball’s outside.”

  She turned on the burner to heat up under the skillet. “No, thanks.”

  “Okay, want to come and watch?”

  “Watch what?”

  “Me play, I guess.”

  Plopping her hands on her waist, she faced him. “Now if that isn’t a macho request.”

  “You liked the macho me last night.”

  “You know what I mean, Joe.”

  His gaze darkened. “Maybe you’d better spell it out for me.”

  “Do you think I’d want to watch you play with your buddies?”

  “Not when you put it that way. Which is condescending. I don’t understand why the idea is so bad.”

  “The girl...sitting on the sidelines to moon over the boy playing sports.... Not only is it sexist, but it sounds super boring.”

  “I’d come see you play.”

  She was getting impatient.

  It must have showed on her face.

  “Hey, never mind. Forget it.”

  He got up, walked to the counter and poured some of the ground coffee into his cup. She went to him and slipped her arms around his waist, laid her head on his back. “Did we just have a tiff number three?”

  “Well, I am irritated with you.”

  She stiffened. “That makes us even. You’re being a baby about this.”

  He broke her hold on him. “You know, I don’t think I’m hungry after all. Call me later if you want to do something.”

  With that, he walked out through the garage door.

  Holly stared after him. What had happened here? She and Greg never fought about stupid stuff like this. They never fought at all.

  * * *

  Joe drove into the Charlotte Beach parking lot and shut off the engine. The volleyball game was straight ahead, and people were already out there. In the last two hours, he’d worked up a head of steam about how snippy Holly got with him—especially after what they’d done in bed together not long before. First there had been that crack about volunteering, making him sound shallow. Damn it, he was a firefighter and put his life on the line for others every day. Then, she didn’t want to go to his game, which he didn’t understand. Most women he dated loved to come to these things and cheer him on. One had even gone to The Weight Room to watch him work out. Add that to their earlier tiffs—what the hell kind of word was that anyway?—he seriously wondered if Holly Michaels was the girl for him. Damn it. He bolted out of the car. Slamming the door, he walked out to the sand, the day dimmed by her reaction.

  “Hey, Joey!” Pricilla, his friend—and occasional lover throughout the years—rushed over and launched herself at him. “Long time no see.” She kissed him on the lips.

  He didn’t let her go. Even squeezed her butt. “Good to see you too, Cilla.”

  “Ready?” the group coach called out. “Now that we have all our members here.”

  Joe looked around. He was the last to arrive. “Sorry I’m late.”

  They razzed him some about how he spent his morning—they thought of him as a playboy—then got down to business. The group divided into two teams, and they played seriously. Some high-fiving after a score, some dissing each other, but each person there was competitive.

  When the game ended, they circled around the coach and got some pointers. Then they played two other games, getting even more guidance for future tournaments. Joe, of course, had starred.

  She could have come here with him and seen it!

  It was four by the time they finished. As usual, they headed to the Pelican’s Nest, a restaurant down the road on the beach. At his car, Cilla came up to him. “Can I ride with you? We haven’t seen each other in a while.”

  “Sure. Get in.”

  She chatted about the game and the plays all the way over. When they reached the restaurant, he said, “Go on in, Cilla. I need to make a call.”

  She pouted. “Don’t leave,” she said in a whiny voice.

  “I won’t.”

  Anchoring an arm around his neck, she kissed his cheek and slid out of the car. He punched in Holly’s number. After three rings, he heard, “This is Holly. Leave a message.”

  “Holly, it’s Joe. You didn’t call me all day so I gave in. Are we getting together tonight?” He hung up and headed into the bar where the team was hanging out.

  “What’ll you have, Joe?” his buddy Wally asked when he reached them. “I was on the losing team.” Which treated to the first drink.

  “A beer.” He leaned against the bar. “How you doing?”

  “Great. You?”

  “Hanging in there, I guess.”

  “Something wrong?”

  “I’m cranky.” When the beers came, they knocked glasses. “Can I ask you something personal?”

  “Sure.”

  “How come Joan doesn’t come to the games on Saturday anymore?”

  “She got bored last year. I can see why it isn’t fun for her.”

  “I can’t.”

  He socked Joe’s arm. “Of course you can’t, Joey. Women fall at your feet and are grateful for any time with you. My wife almost busted a gut when I told her about Mindy going to the gym to watch you work out.”

  Joe was dumbfounded. Suddenly, Holly’s feelings took on a different light. He drank his beer and socialized. In between, he checked his messages to see if she’d called. There were none. Damning her, he went back to his friends.

  * * *

  For the last few hours, Holly and Lizzie walked from stall to stall, commenting on the jewelry, the prices, the eclectic people who attended these things. She tried not to let Joe’s selfishness, his chauvinism, bother her and hadn’t even told Lizzie about their tiff.

  “Oh, look, Holly,” Lizzie called out walking toward another vendor.

  She held up a quilt. On it were a fire hydrant, crossed axes, a helmet, a truck and various other icons of firefighting. The lovely throw was rust-colored with a taupe border.

  “It’s absolutely beautiful.” She ran her fingers over the soft fabric. “Is it down?”

  “Yes, it is.” The woman behind the table had come up to them.

  “This is very unusual.”

  “I’ve made lots of them, especially for my husband’s colleagues.”

  Lizzie was the nosy one. “Why?”

  “My husband’s a firefighter in the city.”

  Lizzie nudged Holly. When she said nothing, Lizzie blurted out, “Holly’s close friends with one of the city guys.”

  “Yeah, who?”


  “Joe Santori.”

  The woman’s expression turned indulgent. “We know Joey. He used to be on Ed’s crew. Tell him Ed Knight’s wife Cindy said hello.”

  “I will.” Holly fingered the quilt. What a special gift this would make. It happened to match the colors in Joe’s living room. And it was made by his former officer’s wife. She wondered when Joe’s birthday was.

  Not getting this work of art because of the silly fight they’d had was stupid, so she said to the woman, “I’d like to purchase the throw, Cindy.”

  Chapter 20

  * * *

  In early June, even though the weather was real pleasant, Chase and his granddaughters built a fire in the pit. Kassie had the idea for a picnic supper in the backyard.

  Colette sat on the blanket next to her sister. “Can we roast the wieners now?”

  “Wieners?” Kassie giggled. “That means a boy’s thingy, Colette.”

  Chase choked on his soda.

  Colette was owl-eyed. “I didn’t know that!”

  He blurted out, “How do you know what a boy’s thingy is?”

  “Grandpa—I’m almost eight years old.”

  He looked to Kassie for help.

  She shrugged. “I knew at eight.”

  “Did you tell Colette all this?”

  “When she asked me about it.”

  Chase sighed. He felt ancient. This raising girls was a new world. And he loved it, he thought, despite the awkward moment.

  Taking the skewers from the table behind them, he gave one to Kassie and then slid a hot dog onto Colette’s.

  The two girls exchanged looks...that were indulgent. “What?”

  Kassie said, “She’s old enough to make her own.”

  “Humor me. I’m not ready to see either of you grow up.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I love you like you are.”

  “Aw, Grandpa. You’re getting to be a real sap.” But he could hear the pleasure in Kassie’s voice.

  At least they let him show them how to rotate the dogs to keep them from burning.

  He was hit by a memory, so vivid he shivered with it. He and Scott were having a picnic in their backyard. Chase had to hold onto his son’s hands to keep the cooking slow. He could feel the sensation as if he’d touched Scott’s soft-child skin, and smell the pure, clean scent of lemon shampoo.