The room seemed unnaturally still and warm; Alice realized she was flushing all over as he stood beside the bed, silently examining her. She lifted her head, sliding her arms back to prop herself up on her elbows. Seeing this, he moved around the bed, grabbed both pillows and stacked them behind her head. With his lips at her ear, he whispered, “I love to know you’re watching me,” then moved away again.
But she couldn’t, really – the intensity of his gaze, the deliberation of his movements, the power of his command and control – all combined to rattle her and she closed her eyes. She felt shy, exposed, naked in a way that had nothing to do with clothing. He was so focused.
Then at last he touched her again, and she gave a sigh of relief. Beginning with the sensitive flesh at the very top of her inside thighs, she felt the brush of his lips, the slightest touch of his tongue. First on one leg, then the other, his fingers followed his mouth, sometimes grazing her open sex in passing, but never stopping there.
Her breath quickened and she squirmed involuntarily. “Lie still, please,” he cautioned and at his words Alice felt a deep shudder run through her. His hands moved slowly, inexorably towards her sex and she felt his fingers gently gliding along and opening the outer lips. She waited, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths, for what seemed an eternity.
“Oh, how very, very pretty you are here,” he murmured and she opened her eyes.
He looked so totally relaxed, sure of himself, and when she extended an arm in entreaty, he leant to kiss her hand gently, then placed it firmly down on her belly. He returned to his careful inspection, now and then ducking his head to bestow the briefest of kisses. Alice felt as though every bit of her consciousness had narrowed to one small area and her legs began to tremble.
A deep sigh of gratification escaped her as he at last bent his head and she felt his tongue slide into the folds and his lips close too briefly around her clitoris. She lifted her hips, moaning, but his hands pressed firmly on her thighs, stilling her. As his mouth continued to move, she tried to relax, luxuriate in his attention, but he was so intentionally taking her to the brink of orgasm and pulling her back that she felt her muscles begin to tense with need.
As if sensing this, he shifted position and Alice felt the very tip of his finger at the opening of her vagina. The finger circled gently there, sometimes pushing a half inch inside; another finger slid down and back towards her ass along the slippery skin there; his lips sucked very gently at her clit – and then she saw him lift his head and look directly into her eyes.
“I think, my dear,” he said, his voice low and calm, “that you might be, as I am, just a trifle too … goal-oriented.” His fingers slowed, but still seemed to be everywhere at once, electrifying, taunting her. “It’s going to be a great deal of fun teaching you to enjoy waiting.”
His eyes burned into hers and she felt powerless to avoid his gaze, even as she noticed the slightly wicked smile that played along his lips. His finger slid deeper inside her and she felt his thumb press against the ridge of flesh above her clitoris and begin to move back and forth. She gasped and tried to whisper “please,” but nothing came out.
And then he increased the pace and pressure of his hand – she let her head drop back, closed her eyes, felt the hot flush sweep across her torso. Somehow she knew he still watched, and as she panted and the waves of climax crested, heard him say “Ah, so beautiful.”
Before the shudders had stopped completely, she heard the tearing of the condom wrapper and then he stretched out on top of her, his erection pressing against her sex. He pulled her hands down to the sides of her head, covered them with his own and she felt his weight holding her in place. He adjusted his hips a bit and she felt his cock glide along her wetness. “Lift up to me, and we’ll see if …”
She did as he said, saw him smile as his erection slid smoothly inside her and realized she was smiling too. They’d been joined so easily and naturally -- as though they’d been specifically constructed to fit together. He began to move, with long, slow strokes, and Alice found herself unwilling to close her eyes. There was something unusual in his face she’d never seen before, something exquisitely sensual that thrilled her.
Her breathing was slow, deep and easy until she gave a small gasp at some minor adjustment he made. She saw his eyes flash and he repeated the stroke, smiling down at her, and she suddenly knew what was different. She had never before seen a man find so much pleasure in pleasing her. There was a slight tinge of masculine pride, she supposed, but this had little to do with cocksmanship.
Exciting her was genuinely exciting him and what a delightful circular affect that had. The awareness that he was getting off on her reactions freed her in some new way – as if she no longer needed to monitor her reactions, chart her progress toward orgasm -- because he would take care of that for her.
At some point, it seemed, all self-awareness had drifted away so that when she came again, it surprised her. She had no idea when he’d transferred his weight, freeing her hands to grasp his head; no memory of wrapping her legs around him; no sense of when he’d begun to kiss her. Yet that was how she found herself as another series of deep, powerful contractions began.
He broke the kiss and put his hands at the side of her face, touching her gently. Again, she saw a very faint glimmer of pride mixed with a radiant joy that almost overwhelmed her. She closed her eyes and began to pant, arching her pelvis into his.
It took a long time for her to quiet; she felt his lips on her cheeks, her eyelids, her forehead. “Oh, Alice,” he said quietly, “I cannot wait to see that again.”
She felt him pull out, still hard, and she lifted a hand to hold him but he rolled to lie beside her. Again propped on a bent elbow, he used his other hand to brush away the strands of hair that clung to her damp face and bent his head to kiss the point of her shoulder. She looked at him, slightly dismayed, and said, “Why did you …”
“Ah. I am taking a short rest so that I can start over in a few minutes, if that’s all right with you.”
Alice thought for a moment. “Is that a question?”
“No,” he answered, and something in his tone and the look in his eyes sent another electric jolt through her. Good lord, she thought, remembering the bar – how will I ever go anywhere public with him? She closed her eyes for a few moments and then said, “Can you remember the first thing you thought when you saw me?”
After a short silence, he chuckled softly. “Not my type,” he said, and after another pause added, “Looking back, I think that might have been some kind of defense mechanism. Not terribly effective, it seems.”
“Huh. I tried that one, too. Of course, remember I also thought you were a soulful sculptor or something like that.” She rolled onto her stomach and smiled at him.
His eyes darted away from her face and he groaned, then immediately lifted a hand to stroke her ass. “I’m sorry, but you’re distracting me. What did you say?”
The smooth, slow strokes were having a lulling affect; Alice laid her head on her outstretched arms and when she spoke, her voice was low. “It doesn’t matter. That feels so nice.”
“Indeed it does,” he said. She felt his hand move a little lower and his fingers nudged her legs apart. She arched her back, pressing her butt into the palm of his hand.
“And that,” he said, reaching for a pillow to slide under her hips, “concludes the rest period.”
***
A half hour or so later, Ryan lay awake, staring at the ceiling and waiting for the onset of his usual post-coital depression. Alice slept beside him, her back pressed to his side. The night air was cool in the mountains, even this late in the spring and he heard a faint hum as the furnace kicked on somewhere in the quiet house.
It should be right about now, he thought, that I begin feeling like a jerk – who is this woman; what am I doing in bed with her; how soon can I get the hell out? Instead, he felt only contentment, a slight pang of hunger, and something it took him a moment
to recognize – eager, Christmas Eve-type anticipation.
He put a protective hand on the crown of her head and contemplated the past few hours. Had he ever been with a woman whose face registered, in such wonderful detail, everything she was feeling? He was working hard, he realized, to bat away the word “perfect” each time it drifted into his head. There was no such thing, and very shortly she was certainly going to demonstrate some very annoying flaws.
To his amazement, it came to him in a rush that he wouldn’t give a damn. He catalogued a few of the things that drove him crazy and mentally shrugged away “disorganized,” “indecisive,” and “chronically late.” So what? Whatever was wrong with her, for surely something was, he would learn to live with it. Huh. Live with it?
Apparently it was time to accept the notion that he was automatically and repeatedly attaching the notion of permanence to this relationship. So – are you thinking of marrying her, a woman you’ve known a few hours? With a start, he thought well, yeah, guess so, just feels … He slid out of bed without disturbing her and gave himself a shake.
He found the sweatpants and his shirt on the floor and dressed, wondering about the pants. He could have put the jeans back on, but she … He smiled. Easier to get on and off? If so, that was something he really liked about the way her mind worked. He poked his nose into the other bedrooms, stopped in the bath and padded downstairs.
They’d left the lights on, and as he moved around the living room, turning off all but one lamp, he thought about what a solid, comfortable place it seemed. He remembered all the decorator-selected, sharp-edged stuff he’d had in San Francisco – his instructions had been “Whatever you think.” Damn, that place had been horrible.
In the kitchen, searching for a piece of fruit, a cracker, something, he found his analytic mind already working out a solution to this food problem. What did these people eat, for crying out loud? Here at last, a flaw. Well, they could take cooking classes together, or they’d hire someone -- no she might not like that. She’d think he was declaring her incompetent.
Thank god, cereal. But he’d used the last of the milk for the pancake batter, so he grabbed another beer, leaned his butt against the edge of the counter and began eating it dry, straight out of the box. This was a nice kitchen; he’d tell the architect they wanted room for a table and … what had she said, waiting for something more definite, so maybe he should have just said he loved her, but then again, she might have been kidding …
She appeared in the doorway wearing a frayed plaid flannel bathrobe. “How long have you had that robe?” he asked.
“Bought it yesterday,” she said, looking him over. “Nice snack.”
“You want to discuss the state of your larder?”
She smiled. “Maybe not.” She came over to lean against the counter beside him and crossed her ankles. Looking down at her feet, she said, “I woke up and got scared. I was afraid you’d left.”
An odd shudder of anxiety ran through him. “Do you really think I’d do that?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know what to think.” She turned, put her arms around his waist and laid her head against his chest.
“Neither do I. I know you’re right -- we’re both freaked out -- but I can’t relax at all. I keep wondering what’s going to happen next.” He kissed the top of her head and setting down the cereal box, put his arms around her. “Except in bed. We seem to be doing okay there.”
Looking up, she aimed those beautiful eyes at him and began “Yes, we …” then interrupted herself with a huge yawn. She glanced at a clock on the wall. “Damn. I have to go to work tomorrow. Maybe you should spend the rest of the night on the sofa.”
“I can behave myself,” he said, doubting it.
“Well, I’m going back up,” she said and stepped away. He watched her eyes move from his face and down over his body, then she turned to walk away. “By the way,” she added over her shoulder, “it’s not your behavior I’m worried about.”
Chapter Nine – Tuesday Morning
A sound she couldn’t immediately identify woke Alice just after seven. Alarm clock? Smoke detector? Good grief, the landline – she picked up her robe and started downstairs to the only phone she was sure she could locate. The ringing stopped while she was on the stairs, then began again.
Grabbing the receiver of the wall-mounted phone her mom had installed around 1968, she croaked out “Hello,” cleared her throat, and tried again. “Hello.”
“I’m out in the driveway. May I enter?”
“Who is this?”
After a short bark of laughter, David said “Long night, eh? See you in a minute.”
Alice ran her hands through her tangled hair and tied the bathrobe belt. She was staring into the nearly empty refrigerator when David came into the kitchen with three cups of coffee in a cardboard box.
“Oh, thank god. You are a wonderful brother,” she said as the aroma drifted up.
“I didn’t know how Romeo took his, so I got it black. Where is he? I assume that’s his car parked in the driveway.”
“Still asleep.” Should she go up and wake him? Probably not a great idea – she remembered the look of him when she’d gotten out of bed. He’d been sleeping on his side and turned away from her, and one quick glance at that smooth muscular back, tight ass, and long, strong legs had made her catch her breath and sigh.
She’d wanted to climb back in, fit herself against him, kiss the back of his neck, inhale his scent, slide her arm around to press her hand against the flatness of his belly. If he’d had a morning erection, she could have tugged him onto his back, closed her mouth around him and awakened him with a different kind of kiss.
“What are you thinking about? You look like you’re a million miles away,” said David.
“Oh. Sorry. I was trying to remember what I have to do today,” she lied. “Hey, you have my phone, don’t you?”
He pulled it from his jacket pocket and set it on the table. “You know, I was trying to think of another time you forgot your phone and I couldn’t. You want to sit down for a minute and tell me what’s going on?”
Alice sat across from him and sighed. “The truth is, I’m not real sure what’s going on.” She blew on her coffee and took a cautious sip. “It’s just … he’s just …”
Looking concerned, David said “C’mon. It’s me. I know you’ve been bored lately, but you have to admit it’s not exactly like you to screw some drifter you’ve known about five minutes.”
“He’s not a drifter!”
“Well, that’s what Cathy called him. What do you call him?”
“You told Cathy?!”
“Well, I had to say something. She told me she had papers to grade and some kind of magic goo on her face and I couldn’t come over. So I said you had company and I’d stay out of her hair, but it was an emergency.”
Oh, great. Cathy taught Spanish at the high school, which meant that by noon every teacher, secretary, lunch lady and probably the guy who painted lines on the football field would hear about it. By three, it would filter through half the kids. Honest to god, she had to get out of this town. “Was it absolutely necessary to mention who I was entertaining?”
David had the grace to look a little sheepish. “I know, I know. But she kept pestering me and the fact is, I wanted to talk about it with her. I mean, come on, Alice. Who the hell is this guy?”
His face showed worry, even distress, and Alice wanted to ease his mind, but didn’t know how. She was so confused herself. She got up to stare into the refrigerator again. “This really is embarrassing,” she said. “Can you go to the market today?”
“Alice.”
Picking up her coffee, she crossed to the sink and looked out the window. After she’d watched Mr. Hastings trying to start his mower in the next yard for a while, she took a deep breath and said, “I think I’m going to marry him.”
There was no response and she turned. “I know how crazy that sounds, but I don’t care. I’ve been tryi
ng to figure it out myself for three days, and now I guess we’re trying to figure it out together.”
“Which we will do, sooner or later,” said Ryan as he walked in.
David looked startled and Alice felt herself blush. And oh crap, what did she look like? She hadn’t even brushed her teeth. Ryan came over, kissed her forehead and stood rather awkwardly beside her. “We, uh, we both feel a little confused, so we’re sort of playing by ear right now,” he said, addressing David.
Alice knew her brother so well she could almost hear him thinking. He was glancing between the two of them, studying first her face, then Ryan’s. Looking slightly reassured, he pushed his chair back and began “I guess I’ll leave you guys alone …”
“Oh, hey no, man,” Ryan interrupted. “I should get out of here, let you two get ready for – is that for me?” He was staring avidly at the coffee cup still in the holder.
“Should still be pretty hot,” said David, pushing the cup across the table.
Ryan pried off the lid, took a sip and then gave Alice an odd look. “Dearest, might I speak with you for just a moment?” he said and walked through into the laundry room.
She followed, watched him carefully set his coffee on the washing machine and then turn to her. He grabbed her ass and pulled her close, put his lips next to her ear and whispered, “Darling Alice, light of my life, what did you do with my pants?”
Her laughter stopped abruptly as she remembered where they were, and why. Pretending he wouldn’t notice the suddenly beet-red color of her face, she shrugged and said, “I’m sure I don’t know. I really don’t think keeping track of your belongings is my responsibility.” He was trying to hide his smile as she added, “But you might want to check under the kitchen table.”
“Ahem,” called David. “Alice, I have Mrs. Palmer at nine, so unless you want to listen to the animal shelter stuff again, you’re the one who has to drive those motions over to Morrissey.”
Anything to avoid Mrs. Palmer. “Fine,” she said, walking back into the kitchen. “You take the will, I’ll take the meeting. I can be out of here in half an hour.”
Hope Falls: Passing Through (Kindle Worlds Novella) Page 7
