Discovering Pleasure

by Marie Haynes

  “Women are weak, Rose. Weak. We need men in our lives and a stupid, mean-hearted one is better than none at all. Hell, I’ve never been lucky enough to snag a good man—don’t think you ever will either. We’re just not the ‘happy homemaker’ type of women who attract a Ward as a husband. We’re more like Blanche DuBois, who ‘always depended upon the kindness of strangers’. Don’t worry though, Rose. You’re pretty. You may not find a good man, but you’ll never want for a man. Shit, girl. You’ll probably have a whole string of them if you can keep your figure and don’t let any of them mark your face. I know you’re young still, but in a few years—maybe when you’re fourteen or fifteen—we can start looking and find you a nice sugar daddy of your own. You just got to resign yourself to your future and stop letting your head float in the clouds. Love is a pipe dream and good men are as much of a fantasy as Santa Claus.”

  Rose shook her head, trying to get her mother’s words out of her mind. You were wrong, Mama. I did find a good man. And I don’t want any other. Rose sank down onto her couch, the images of her tidy home melding into memories of a dirty little apartment.

  “But, Mama, I hate make-up. It feels all greasy and it makes me look funny. Why do I have to wear it?”

  “Because you want to look pretty for Uncle John, don’t you?”

  “Since when is John my uncle?” she questioned.

  Mama sighed and looked a bit angry. “Since now, Rose. Listen to me and listen good. If you want to stay here and have a roof over your head, you’ll be nice to Uncle John and do whatever he wants you to do, understand?”

  “No, Mama, I don’t,” Rose whined.

  John—her mother’s current boyfriend and their landlord—came over regularly and played a mean hand of gin rummy, but what did he want with her? All she wanted to do was watch some TV and relax on the couch. Besides, she had homework to finish.

  “It’s simple. You’re not a little girl anymore. You’re a big eleven-year-old young lady. John needs a favour and in return, he’ll let us stay here another month.”

  Rose squirmed a bit more as Melinda applied a rosy blush to her cheeks.

  “Now, Rose,” Melinda began, looking directly into her eyes. “I know this might be a little weird for you, but just go along with it, okay? It’ll be just a one-time gig. I promise. I know you don’t like this but Uncle John won’t hurt you. I’ve got a line on a job, a real job this time. Waitressing at the diner down the road. With tips, I should be able to pay the rent without a hitch. Till then, you don’t mind helping out, do you?”

  Rose shook her head and said, “No, Mama. I don’t mind. I’ll be nice to Uncle John. But what does he want me to do?”

  Mama looked so sad, Rose would have done anything to make her smile again. Besides, what did a bit of make-up matter if it meant that they didn’t have to move again? Rose liked her school and was just beginning to make friends there.

  “He’s meeting with his parole officer, honey. He needs you to tell the guy that Uncle John’s nice to us and even babysits you sometimes. That’s all. I know it’s a bit of a lie, but he has been nice to us, hasn’t he?”

  Rose thought a minute and had to agree with her mother. Once he had even helped her with her math homework while waiting for Melinda to get ready for a date.

  “But why do I have to put make-up on? I hate that stuff on my face.”

  “You’re just looking a little pale still after that last bout of flu. Besides, you’re a big girl now and you need to learn how to accentuate your looks.”

  Rose shook herself, forcing her mind back to the present. Glancing down, she realised she had been dusting the only picture she had of her mother. Really, Melinda Hester had been a lovely woman, but there was a hardness about her mouth that Rose hadn’t noticed before. Nothing would ever change the love Rose felt for her mother, but time and maturity had a way of fading the rose-coloured glasses of youth.

  “Oh, Mama,” Rose whispered. “I know you didn’t have it easy, but why did you have to make it so hard for me?”

  * * * *

  Rose hummed along to a Lorenna McKennitt song while she prepared dinner. She wasn’t a creative cook, but she could certainly whip together a simple pasta primavera with garlic bread for the side. Nathan had said that he’d be by around seven and that he planned to spend the entire weekend with her. Rose was beside herself with excitement. After scrubbing her entire house, she’d laundered all the bed linen, replaced the towels in the bathroom, stocked up on his favourite beer and treated herself to a manicure and waxing. Running a hand up her smooth thigh, Rose smiled, thinking about Nathan’s hands on her. God, she loved his hands, so strong and slightly calloused. Nathan wasn’t afraid of hard work and knew how to repair a clogged drain or change a flat tyre. He also knew just where to touch her to turn her into a puddle of mush. Truth be told, he didn’t even have to touch her—he could just look at her with his dark eyes and she melted.

  “You gonna let me in or just daydream?” a deep voice interrupted her thoughts.

  “Shit!” Rose yelped, putting a hand up to her rapidly beating heart. “Nathan! I didn’t hear you knock.”

  Quickly, Rose unlatched the back screen door.

  “Besides, if you hadn’t insisted on installing this hook latch, you could have walked right in,” she scolded.

  “Yeah. Me and every other pervert,” he answered, grabbing her for a strong hug.

  “So, you admit you’re a pervert, do you?” She laughed.

  “You bet I do,” he responded, nuzzling her neck and sniffing loudly. “Is that garlic I smell?”

  Rose gave an exasperated sigh. “So I guess the old saying is true…the way to a man’s heart really is through his stomach.”

  “Hey, give me break. I had a peanut butter sandwich at eleven-thirty this morning. I’m famished,” he explained, releasing his hold on her to peek into the oven.

  Rose slapped his hand playfully and scolded, “Go wash up and you can open the wine while I finish dinner.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he answered, grinning.

  Rose watched, enjoying the view of his jeans-clad ass. Good Lord, the man had an ass to die for! Quickly, Rose shut and locked the back door, closed the curtains and set the table. Nathan hadn’t said he wanted a play event tonight, but just in case he did, Rose didn’t want to give the neighbours a show. Rose felt a familiar tingle in her intimate areas just thinking about Nathan. Nothing, absolutely nothing, excited her as much as kneeling before him and welcoming him home. Hell, her panties were already wet just from her thinking about it!

  Nathan came back from the bathroom and opened the wine while Rose plated their dinner. Rose realised that her hunger for food had ebbed. However, looking at the sexy creature across from her activated a hunger of a different sort.

  “Rose, I gotta say,” Nathan muttered in between bites of pasta, “my mama would be proud of you. You’re getting this whole al dente pasta down pat.”

  “Thanks. That’s a huge compliment coming from a real St. Louis Italian,” she answered. Could a man be any sexier than when he was eating food cooked by the woman who loved him? Rose didn’t think so.

  Nathan looked up, catching her eye. She saw his eyes darken and knew now that his stomach had been appeased, his thoughts had turned to other appetites.

  “You’re beautiful,” he simply stated.

  Rose was stunned. She didn’t know how to react. He’d said such things to her before, but always during moments of passion. She’d never seen herself as beautiful and to hear him say the words so bluntly confused her. Her hair was too fuzzy and too red. Her body was a bit too round to be fashionable and, standing at barely five feet three, she realised she’d never compare to the statuesque beauties commonly found in men’s magazines.

  Nathan smiled. “You look like I just told you some fairy tale and expected you to believe it.”

  “You have,” she answered.

  Nathan’s smile vanished. “No, Rose. I haven’t.” He stood and walked aroun
d the table to hold her hand. “Come with me.”

  Rose nodded and complied, mesmerised by his gorgeous, commanding eyes. Meekly, she followed him into her bedroom. He placed her before the full-length mirror, forcing her to look at herself. He stood behind her and slowly lifted her dress, exposing her body to the glass. Gently, he removed her bra and panties. Rose turned her head, trying to hide from her own reflection.

  “No, baby. I want you to look at yourself,” he said, placing his hands on her cheeks and forcing her to face the mirror. “Look at your legs, see how long and strong they are? See how they flare into your hips, the perfect Y where your thighs meet your sex? The softness of your belly is enough to make a man drool.”

  He splayed his hands over her lower abdomen and she moaned softly and leaned against his chest. He cupped her breasts, rubbing his thumbs over her nipples.

  “You see these? These perfect breasts? Firm, round, soft. My God, Rose. I could suckle them the rest of my life and die a happy man,” he murmured.

  He kissed her neck and dropped his head slightly, nibbling her shoulders. Rose tipped her head just a bit and lifted her hand to touch his cheek. Did he truly think all that of her? She saw only a mediocre body and a desperate need in dark green eyes.

  “You, my dear, may never see what I do, but don’t insult my taste by denying the beauty of what I see. If I say you are beautiful, then know that you are,” he assured her.

  Swiftly, he bent down and lifted her. He carried her to the bed and gently placed her on it. Keeping his eyes focused on hers, he undressed. Rose widened her eyes. Of course she had seen him naked before, but the vision of his biceps and his muscular, hairy chest never ceased to enthrall her. If Michelangelo had seen Nathan, surely he would have sculpted this body in marble.

  Reaching for him, Rose ran her hand up his chest, entwining her fingers in his soft hair.

  “Nathan. You are magnificent,” she whispered, leaning forward to kiss his chest.

  She felt the bed shift under his weight as she wantonly ran her tongue along his skin. When she encountered a hard nipple, she moaned with delight and sucked, her hands continuing their exploration of his stomach. He pushed his weight against her, forcing her to lie down.

  “God, Rose. Do you know what you do to me? Are you trying to drive me crazy?” he asked.

  “No and yes,” she answered between kisses. “I don’t care. All I care about is you. I want you, Nathan, I want to taste every inch of you. I want the smell of you on my skin. I want you to take your pleasure of me so that I can find my own.”

  Nathan needed no other encouragement. He captured her mouth with his and pushed his tongue inside her mouth as he pushed his rod into her wet, warm tunnel. The woman was always ready for him, always. That knowledge alone made him hard. But Jesus, if he didn’t gain some control he’d lose his seed before he’d ever pleasured her and that was simply not acceptable.

  “Nathan, I need you,” Rose gasped. She clenched her muscles around him, drawing him further into her own body.

  “Girl, if you don’t slow down, I’m going to come too soon. You’re makin’ me lose control,” Nathan ground out.

  “I don’t want you to have control. I want control and I want you to come. That alone will give me pleasure,” Rose commanded.

  She sucked her finger. Nathan abandoned her lips and focused on her neck, biting down while he thrust into her.

  Rose had thrust her finger up his asshole, massaging his prostate and stimulating him beyond belief.

  “Jesus Christ!” he shouted, fighting a losing battle for control.

  “Come for me,” she demanded. “Fill me.”

  Nathan lost all semblance of control. He threw his head back and growled, his seed shooting into her warm, welcoming body. Somewhere, deep in the back of his mind, he realised that he had not yet put on a condom, but he couldn’t stop himself. She felt so damned good…all hot and wet and his. Besides, Rose was on birth control pills and they had both been tested just to be sure, so he knew they were both clean. Her finger slowly slipped out of his ass and he clenched his cheeks. She kissed his neck and wiggled beneath him as the wave of joy began to ebb. Slowly, he became aware of the slight body beneath him and he shifted his weight so as not to crush her.

  “My God, Rose. You are the perfect woman for me,” he said, kissing her face.

  “Not yet, but I will be,” she responded, pushing him onto his back.

  He lay still, amazed as she kissed her way down his chest. Gasping, he felt her lips sucking gently. She carefully licked and kissed his shaft to her satisfaction and then lay with her head resting on his stomach, her hand wrapped around his depleted cock. He kept his hand entwined in her soft red hair, his mind completely blank and his body hers. His breathing eventually returned to normal and he realised that Rose had stopped moving.

  “You awake, little one?” he asked quietly.

  When she didn’t answer, Nathan sat up, careful not to disturb her too much. He shifted her so that her head was cradled against his chest. He sniffed her hair, enjoying its scent.

  “My own little Rose,” he whispered. “One day, you’ll understand just what you mean to me. What a beautiful person you are. But for now, rest and know that I will always protect you.”

  He gently kissed her head and settled himself to sleep as well. Tomorrow was soon enough to discuss plans. For now, he would enjoy the warmth and feel of her body.

  * * * *

  Nathan awoke the next morning and rolled over to reach for Rose. He opened his eyes when he encountered only a cold pillow.

  “What the hell?” he mumbled.

  He laid in bed for a moment longer. Hearing clattering in the kitchen, he glanced at the clock and groaned. What the fuck was that woman doing in the kitchen at six-thirty on a Saturday morning? Nathan briefly debated the merits of staying in bed over rousing himself, until the alluring scent of coffee reached his nostrils. Following his nose, he rose and wandered into the kitchen.

  “Morning, sweetheart! Sleep well?” Rose asked, standing on her tiptoes to plant a kiss on his cheek.

  “You seem awfully cheerful this morning,” he commented before grasping her hair and pulling her head back for a full-on, rock-your-socks-off kiss.

  “Well,” she stammered when he released her, “if I could wake up to a kiss like that every morning, no wonder I’m cheerful. Here, why don’t you sit while I get you a cup of coffee?”

  “You’re a goddess,” he mumbled.

  Noticing the silver tea pot on the counter and a mug half full of amber liquid, he knew Rose was already fortified by the herbal tea she preferred, but she always made coffee for him. God love the woman.

  Sipping his coffee, he watched as she fixed a hearty breakfast of scrambled eggs, bacon and toast. She must have got up quite early since he saw no evidence of the dishes from last night and remembered that he hadn’t given her a chance to clean up after dinner. Enjoying the view of her ass cheeks peeking out from below the short white robe she wore, Nathan finished his first cup and was going for his second when she placed a plate full of food in front of him.

  “Here you go. It’s not fancy, but it should be edible,” she said.

  “Looks great,” he assured her as he dug into the pile of eggs. “Aren’t you eating?”

  “I had some yogurt and fruit earlier. You enjoy,” she assured him, refilling his cup and taking a seat at the table.

  Nathan paused a moment. Earlier? Christ, didn’t the woman sleep?

  “I’ve got some news for you that I meant to tell you before now, but last night…well, I got a bit distracted when you jumped my bones,” he began.

  “Me? I think you’re the one who started things going,” she retorted, grinning.

  “Whatever,” he admitted. “Anyway, next week you and me, Joe and Vince are all going on a little trip to Southern Illinois. We’ll check out various wineries—one in particular—using the excuse that Vince wants to add some local Illinois and Missouri wines to his m
enu…which isn’t a lie. He really has been considering adding wines to his stock.”

  Nathan eyed Rose carefully, noticing how she sat up a bit straighter and looked down into her tea cup.

  “Okay,” she answered quietly.

  “That way we can get a better idea of what we’d be walking into before making actual introductions. Of course, you have veto power at any time, love,” he promised her.

  Rose didn’t answer immediately and Nathan was more than willing to give her all the time she needed. He’d never known her to make any important decisions on the spur of the moment. Hell, last time he’d taken her out to dinner, she took fifteen minutes to decide on an entrée and wine and then only after quizzing the poor waiter over ingredients and vintages. He had to admit, the food and wine had complemented each other perfectly. The woman may be only a mediocre cook, but she knew and enjoyed good food.

  “I think it’s a great idea,” she said. “When do we leave?”

  Chapter Nine

  Chambourcin—Produced from Illinois-grown grapes, this wine has a rustic wildness reminiscent of autumn nights and campfires beneath the stars.

  Rose looked out of the back window of Vincent’s Jeep and marvelled at the rustic beauty of Southern Illinois. Tall trees stood sentinel on either side of the winding road and dappled diamonds of sunlight highlighted the wildflowers in the undergrowth. Rose loved the yellow petals of the Black-Eyed Susans, the white Queen Anne’s lace, and even the statuesque purple beauty of thorny thistles. Few people realised the loveliness of this part of the country.

  “So tell me about this place where we’re staying,” Joe asked her.

  The two men were in the front seat listening to a Cardinals game on the radio and the girls were in the back enjoying the scenery.