McNeil's Match

by Gwynne Forster

  She had hoped he wouldn’t remember Caesar until they’d reached her house. “Uh...no. I’ll get him tomorrow.” The evening forming in her mind held no room for the frisky dog who would want to take off immediately on a romp down the street or wherever she would run with him, leaving Sloan either to tag along or to wait alone for her. Sloan drove to his town house and parked.

  “Would you like to come in?”

  “Thanks, but you’ll move faster if I stay in the car.”

  A grin spread over his face and bloomed into a smile that electrified her. “Truer words were never spoken.” He leaned over and kissed her mouth. “Be back in about fifteen minutes.”

  Hmm. Just time enough to take a shower. I’m way ahead of you, sweetheart.

  He was back in fifteen minutes as promised, and it didn’t escape her that he wore different clothes and carried a small leather pouch. When he drove into her garage, the day had almost spent itself.

  He unloaded her purchases and took them into the kitchen. “I’ll check around the house to see if everything’s in order.” After putting the food in the refrigerator, she set the table. “What’s wrong with me?” she asked herself. “I don’t seem to care that I lost in the third round, although I know I do. Maybe I’m just happy that he still loves me in spite of the hurt I caused him.”

  She peeled half a dozen waxy red potatoes, sliced them in the food processor, placed them in a casserole dish, seasoned them with salt and pepper and poured light cream until it covered the potatoes. She lit the oven, placed the dish inside and looked at her watch. Next, she trimmed the beef filet, seasoned it and placed it in a roasting pan. She spent the next fifteen minutes cleaning asparagus, and putting together a green salad. Broiled grapefruit would have to do for a first course. After cutting one into halves and paring them, she set them in a baking pan, sprinkled them with generous amounts of brown sugar and, to each, she added several jiggers of cognac. Later, she would broil them. She eyed the bottle of Napoleon VSOP cognac and saw that she had plenty to pour over the raspberry ice cream that she’d bought for dessert.

  Sloan hadn’t come into the house, so she went outside and found him cutting away a wild vine that had begun to choke one of her rosebushes. “I’d like to disappear for about thirty minutes,” she said. “Would you excuse me?”

  He folded the Swiss Army Knife and put it in his pocket. “Sure. Should I keep an eye on whatever’s happening in the kitchen?”

  “Thanks, but I’ve got it covered. Would you like a drink before I go upstairs?”

  He walked toward her, his gait lazy and his body swinging in a sexy rhythm. “You know I don’t drink when I have to drive, and I’m taking the rental car back for you, aren’t I?”

  She looked him in the eye. “Would you like a drink or wouldn’t you?”

  Like the sun suddenly popping out from behind a storm cloud, the fire of sexual desire radiated from his eyes, drawing her into him the way a lightbulb seduces a moth. She caught herself as she moved to him and stopped, for within minutes he’d have had her in bed, and her plans called for a much different scenario.

  “Scotch, bourbon or vodka?” she asked him

  The heat of his gaze seemed to burn her. “I’ll take anything you give me.”

  Never having seen him drink hard liquor, she was temporarily stymied. “Well,” she said, “I can handle a double entendre as well as the next person. Vodka and tonic it is, and with plenty of ice to water it down.”

  With a frown and narrowed eyes, he asked her, “Woman, are you suggesting I can’t hold my liquor?”

  “Not at all. Just making sure the drink won’t sap your energy.” She whirled around and headed for the kitchen, but he made certain she heard him when he said, “If that’s the effect, you may wish you’d made it a triple.”

  He followed her into the kitchen, walked over to where she was removing ice cubes from an ice tray and tweaked her nose. “Pretty fresh today, aren’t you. Be prepared to back it up.”

  She moved out of his reach, made a vodka Collins and handed it to him. “As you said, I’ll take anything you can give me... Oops. I mean...anything you give me.”

  The joy of his laughter wrapped around her as she fled up the stairs. “Lord, he’s got me so excited that I probably won’t be able to eat a thing.” She showered, oiled and perfumed her body, put on a pair of green bikini panties and stepped into a green halter-top silk jumpsuit, and after combing out her hair and putting a lip gloss on her lips, she streaked down the stairs to him with a minute to spare.

  She noticed that his drink remained untouched. “What’s the matter? Too much ice?”

  She loved the mischievous glint in his eyes. Lord, but this man is sexy.

  “I wouldn’t drink without you.” As if cataloging the treasures before him, his gaze traveled from her toes to the top of her head, lingering here and there, and his Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed as he seemed to anticipate what he knew was to come. She didn’t imagine the shivers that shot through her. “You’re one lovely woman.”

  “Thanks. I’ll get a glass of wine, and I’ve got a bag of roasted almonds and some cheese sticks while we wait for those potatoes to cook.” She looked at her watch. “Remind me in fifteen minutes to put the meat in the oven.” Why am I nervous? I’m chattering like a ten-year-old at her first overnight pajama party. Calm down, girl.

  At last she could serve the dinner, but as she removed the broiled grapefruit from the broiler, the telephone rang.

  “Hello.”

  “Hi, sis. What’s happening? I figured you’d be home by now. You really planning to continue wearing yourself out on the tour?”

  “Hello, Brad. Thanks for the encouragement. I can’t talk with you right now, because I’ve just begun to serve dinner.”

  “Oh, yeah? Who’s your guest?”

  “Sloan McNeil, and my dinner’s getting cold.”

  “Now look. It’s time you came to your senses about—”

  She interrupted him. “I’m hanging up, Brad, and I won’t answer the phone again tonight. I don’t feel like being harassed. Goodbye.”

  “I don’t like coming between you and your brother,” Sloan said. She hadn’t realized that he’d heard her side of the conversation.

  She answered him indirectly. “As many times as I let Brad know how miserable Willard made my life, he never suggested I get out of that situation. Nor did he tell me to avoid it in the first place. Where you are concerned, I’m taking no more advice from him. Let’s forget that interruption. I won’t let anything or anybody spoil my evening with you.”

  He jumped up from the table, put his arms around her and said, “Smile for me.”

  When she did, his lips parted above hers, and when she opened to him, his tongue dipped into her mouth. “This is what matters right now, Lynne. You and I. That’s all.”

  After saying the grace, he tasted the broiled grapefruit. “Mmm. This is different...and delicious.”

  She didn’t remember having cooked a more perfect meal. It was as if Providence was on her side. He took the dishes from the table, put them in the dishwasher and cleaned the kitchen. When she insisted that she’d do them the next morning, he said, “I don’t believe in that. I straighten up when I finish eating. Find some interesting music.”

  She took a bottle of Tia Maria and aperitif glasses to the living room, put on Buddy Guy’s recording of “It Looks Like Rain,” sat down and waited for Sloan, but a restlessness suffused her.

  When she heard his footsteps, chills plowed through her, she crossed and uncrossed her knees and when, with trembling fingers, she reached for the empty glass, he said, “What’s the matter, sweetheart? Are you afraid?”

  She shook her head. “I...so much is riding on this evening.”

  “You’re wrong. Nothing is riding on it. We’ll take it as it
comes. Why do you say that? Remember,” he admonished, just before she made light of it, “we’ve pledged honesty with each other, and if there is one thing we have to be frank about, it’s this. Tell me what’s bothering you.”

  Thank God she could tell him. “I’ve never had any success at it, and I’m scared you’ll be disappointed.”

  He poured each of them a glass of the liqueur. “Get rid of that notion right now. Don’t even think it. Why did you choose this particular recording?”

  “Because I wouldn’t care how many times it played over and over.”

  “Neither would I. Buddy Guy is a great singer, and nobody is better than he at playing that guitar. A real genius. Do you know the words? Let’s sing it.”

  After the first two bars, she stopped singing and listened to his rich, velvet baritone caress the words, “And I feel you reaching out to me.”

  Either the liqueur or his voice—she didn’t know which—warmed her insides and set her blood to racing, and thoughts of that moment when he would plunge into her blotted out all else.

  “Kiss me,” he whispered.

  For a minute, she stared into his hypnotic gaze, and then she parted her lips and sucked his tongue into her mouth. His big hand roamed over her naked back, claiming, stroking and possessing while he showed her with his tongue what he would do to her later. Her nerves began to tingle with exhilaration, drowning her in a pool of sensuality. She wanted his hands all over her. She wanted...

  His fingers teased her nipple, and she pressed his hand to her body. “Kiss me. Honey, kiss me.”

  He untied the strings at the back of her neck, and when he had exposed her breasts to him, she trembled in anticipation, and he sucked in his breath. “Sloan, kiss me.”

  “If I do that, baby, I’m gone. I want you so badly I can hardly breathe. If I—”

  She grasped the back of his head. “Take me in your mouth. I want to feel your mouth on me.”

  When his warm, moist mouth covered her nipple, she let out a cry that reverberated throughout the house, and he began to suck, stroking and pulling her other nipple as he did so. Contractions at the mouth of her womb and heat at the bottom of her feet nearly unraveled her as he dragged her into a ravishing need, a sensation that she hadn’t previously known. Her blood seemed to churn and, with no experience at it, she did the natural thing and began to stroke and fondle him.

  “No. No,” he groaned, but covered her hand the better to enjoy the pleasure of it. But when she squeezed, he stopped her.

  “Look at me, Lynne. I want us to make love. I need to love you right now more than I need air. If you don’t want that, let me know this minute.”

  She buried her face in his shoulder. “I want you to make love with me. I want it so badly.” He lifted her into his arms and carried her up the stairs to her bedroom, where he unzipped her dress, and she stepped out of it.

  His whistle split the air as she stood before him, bare but for the tiniest of bikini panties. “You are... Sweetheart, you take my breath away. You’re so beautiful.” The hunger in his eyes made her cover her breasts with her hands, and as if sensitive to her embarrassment, he quickly threw back the covers and put her in the bed.

  * * *

  He flung off his clothes, stepped out of his shoes and yanked off his socks. When he looked at her lying nude in that bed with her arms stretched out to him, the blood pooled in his groin. He told himself to take it slow, that she needed his skill, patience and his love. But she lay there, arms outstretched and smiling at him, and he had to control the urge to run to her, and as he reached the edge of the bed, she stretched out her hand and stroked him.

  “Let me,” she said, and he stood before her while she dropped his shorts to the floor and caressed him. Knowing his limits, he prayed for control as he sprang hard and heavy into her hands. Oh, the feel of her unschooled fingers stroking, teasing and toying with his rigid flesh, making his senses whirl dizzily. He had to stop her, but it had been so long since warm and loving hands had paid tribute to his manhood.

  “My God, stop it,” he yelled, when her lips closed over him and she caressed him with the tip of her tongue. Aware of the certain consequences, he moved her from him, climbed into the bed and brought her body to his, breast to chest and thigh to thigh. In his lifetime, he hadn’t known such gentle sweetness as she gave him in that kiss. He couldn’t control the trembling of his body when her arms went around him and she threw her right leg across his hip telling him without words that she was his.

  * * *

  Liquid accumulated in her mouth when she felt his penis rubbing against her thigh, and she reached down to capture the organ and put it inside of her. But he moved from her.

  “You’re not nearly ready, love.” His lips brushed over her eyes, her ears and her throat.

  “Oh, Sloan, kiss me. I want to feel you inside of me.”

  “Let’s not rush this, sweetheart. We’ve got all night.” His lips spread kisses over her shoulders, and her nerves rioted through her body as she waited for the feel of her nipple in his mouth. At last he began to suckle her, and her groan of passion echoed through the room. If only he would get in her. He eased her to her back, and when he began kissing her belly, hot darts seemed to pummel her vagina.

  “I can’t stand this,” she moaned.

  His fingers opened her vaginal folds, and she bucked beneath him. When he hooked her knees over his shoulders and kissed her, she let out a loud cry and then... Oh Lord, the feel of his tongue dancing in her and of his lips sucking and kissing. She thought she would die from the pleasure of it. And then, contractions in her vagina startled her.

  “Honey, what is happing to me? Oh Lord. I think I want to burst. Get in me. Get in me!”

  He moved up her body, slipped on a condom and kissed her. “Relax now and look at me.”

  She opened her eyes and stared into the face of the man she loved as he pressed against her. Her eyes widened at the discomfort, but she pressed her body up to him and he slowly sank into her. His fingers inched between them and he massaged her, his talented fingers sending spirals of unbearable tension to her vagina. As if powered by a magical force, her body took over, and she began to move against him.

  “Tell me you’re mine,” he said. “Mine and no one else’s.”

  “I am. I’m yours. Just love me. That’s all I want,” she said. And then he began to thrust in and out of her.

  “Tell me when I’m in the right place, when it’s so good you can’t stand it,” he said.

  “I want to burst. I feel as if... Oh Lord. I’m swelling inside. I’m—”

  “That’s good. Oh, yes.” He increased the pace, and now she was going to die if he didn’t... The pumping and squeezing began, and her thighs started to quiver. She was dying, sinking. She couldn’t stand it. He flung her into a whirlpool, and she grabbed his hips. “Sloan! Honey, I’m...I’m dying.”

  “You’re not. You’re loving me.”

  “I’m...” Screams erupted from her as he flung her into ecstasy, and she spread her arms and gave herself to him. “I’m...I love you. I love you.”

  He pumped furiously, and shouted his release as he lost himself in her and he fell apart in her arms. “I’ll always love you.”

  They lay entwined for a long time without speaking, holding each other. “Are you all right?” he asked her.

  “Me? I’m fine.”

  “This is important, Lynne. Did you have an orgasm? Tell me.”

  “I guess I did. I don’t know what else it could have been. If there’s something better, believe me, I want it.”

  “Then you don’t feel as if there’s something else that wants to be released, something lacking.”

  “No. I don’t. Of course, I wouldn’t mind feeling like that again, if you can manage it. How do you feel?”

  He hug
ged and kissed her. “Like a crowned king. The wonderful thing about this is that practice makes perfect. The better we know each other, the more pleasure we can give each other.” He sat up in bed and looked at his watch. “Do I have to go home tonight?”

  With her hands above her head, she stretched long and lazily. “Honey, don’t even let that cross your mind.”

  “Then, I think I’ll go see what I can find to eat. Sex makes me hungry as the devil.”

  It occurred to her to follow him down the stairs and help him find something to eat, but lethargic as she was after the workout he’d given her, she yielded to the demands of her sated body and fell asleep.

  “Where do I turn off this light?” His voice reached her from a great distance. She put the pillow over her head, removed it and sat up as the scent of their lovemaking brought her from her dream world to reality.

  “Sloan? Did you find anything to eat? I meant to go down and help you.” She covered her mouth to enjoy a yawn. “But it looks like I fell off to sleep. I’m sorry.”

  “I found plenty to eat and, trust me, I ate it. Aren’t you hungry?”

  “I don’t think so. I’m still half asleep. You wanna kiss me? Huh?”

  “I’m not in a habit of taking advantage of women, and I’m not sure you’re awake.”

  “Then wake me up. You sure have what it takes.” She slumped against him. “I want to feel the way I felt when you were inside me. Lord, if I ever have anything better than that, I know it will kill me. How’d you learn all that? You should give classes. You’d be a millionaire in no time. And you’re sweet, too, but you can’t teach that. Can you? I mean...”

  “Lynne, wake up and show me where the light switch is. Come on, baby.”

  Lynne sat up straighter, rubbed her eyes and looked at him. “It’s on the cord.” She leaned across him in an attempt to find it, and her breasts rubbed over his chest. She turned slowly and stared at him.

  “I didn’t do a thing,” he said.

  As if he hadn’t spoken, she kept her gaze glued to his face as she wondered about protocol for lovers when they were already in the bed together, and had made love. Within a minute, his eyes darkened with unmistakable desire and, more certain of her ground now, she leaned down and twirled her tongue around his pectoral. If it worked with her, shouldn’t it excite him, too? Immediately, as fiery need blazed in his eyes, she crawled over, mounted him and took him into her body. He shifted until he lay flat on his back. As she bent over him, he pulled her nipple into his mouth and suckled her.