What Dreams May Come (07/22/2009)
© 07/2009 By: Ree

The day didn’t start like a Wednesday, perhaps that’s why I was off balance to begin with.

Johnny greeted me in the kitchen with the news that he and Bud were doing a security clearance and needed to meet with their subject, a candidate for a high-level position at a software company, before he left for a trip. Our day together had become more flexible to accommodate the demands of our busier lives, but it still threw me.  No waiting on the front step? No watching Bud walk over? Why didn’t he tell me himself?

I was in full pout when the call did come.

“Hey Laurie baby,” he said, the tone of his voice melting my reserve, damn him. “Did John tell you?”

“HE told me, yes.”  I hoped the chill in my voice was evident.  I heard Johnny say “oh-oh” behind me and hide behind the refrigerator door.

“It was last minute.  I can be back by one, we can eat.”

“‘Kay.”

In the silence I could almost hear his eyes roll. “I called you as soon as I could. C’mon, you going all girl on me, baby?”

“I thought that’s what you liked, for me to go all girl on you.”

He chuckled. “You know it. I’ll let you do that later.”

“Or, you could let me come with you.”

“No, this is our job, baby, not a game.”

“Not to your interview - to town. I can keep myself busy and we can meet up. The three of us can have lunch after.”

“You’re not asking to ‘help’?”

“No, of course not, why would I do that?”

He laughed.  “Because you like trouble, that’s why. Where would you go?”

“I don’t know. The bookstore? The coffee shop? The lingerie place down on Winston Street?”

“Now you’re talking. That’s about five-six blocks away.”

“See? Out of the way and doing something useful at the same time.”

“Useful.” He chuckled. “Let me call John. As long as you promise to stay out of trouble . . . “

“I promise. And I’ll ask Johnny, he’s right here. Johnny?” He peered over the refrigerator door at me.  “Did you hear? Would that be okay if I went shopping while you do did your manly work?”

“That didn’t take you long, but looks like you found the right bribe,” he laughed. “Will you get something for me too?”

“Oh, you want a new teddy, Bear?”

“Ha ha.”

“Get him a girdle,” Bud said with laugh.

“Oh, no I won’t!”

“You won’t what?”  I shook my head and Johnny narrowed his eyes as he sussed out that Bud had made a joke at his expense. “Yeah, yeah, fuck you, Bud,” he called out. Bud’s deep laughter filled my ear.

The days’ plans seemed to be working out, but it was still strange to start our Wednesday with company. They dropped me off at the bookstore and we arranged to meet at the coffee shop, giving them plenty of time for their business.

I browsed for while, finally finding a book for me and Jimmy to read together, then walked the few blocks to the pretty-little-nothing store. Lingerie stores are dangerous; I always seem to find something for everyone and could go broke there if I let myself.  I escaped with but a few indulgences, one of which I hoped would be appreciated later that evening.  As a reward for my relative restraint, I bought myself an iced latte and settled into one of the coffee shop’s sitting areas, listening to my Ipod and sketching into a little pad I carry in my purse.  After a few minutes I began to regret getting the frozen drink. The air had turned frigid; a chill shuddered down my neck.  I looked up to see if I could find the source of the draft when my eyes locked with a man sitting across from me. He was olive-skinned, with a shock of black hair and eyes to match. The ice went to my veins. It was the eyes, they pierced me.

“You do ask permission if you’re sketching a stranger, don’t you?”

“What?”  I managed to break his stare and looked at my paper. “I”m not drawing anyone here.”  He slipped up and over to the seat next to mine and peered at my paper. I closed the cover of the sketchpad.

“Don’t worry, I’d give you my permission, Miss . . . “

I didn’t respond to his attempt to get my name. “That’s okay, I’m just passing time.”

“So am I. Would you like to pass it together?”  He grinned. Although he was handsome enough, his smile frightened me.

“No, I’ll just stay here.”  I took a gulp of my drink and tried to distract myself by looking in my purse.   When I looked up, he’d lifted the nightie I’d bought from the bag.

“This is lovely. I bet it’s lovelier on you.”

“Excuse me?!”  I yanked it from his hands, shocked into action. “My God, who do you think are?”  I shoved the item back in the bag and gathered my things up.

He touched my arm softly. “Wait wait. I’m sorry, curiosity got the better of me. That was very rude. May I get you another coffee to make up for it?”

“No, thank you, I should just be going.”  I looked around to see if Bud or Johnny had shown up, then cursed myself. I didn’t need saving, it was just a jerk hitting on me. Crudely, too.  “Actually, no, reverse that. You should be the one going.  Unless you want me to tell the manager one of his customers is fondling someone else’s underwear.”

He threw his head back and laughed. “Oh, we could have fun, you and I.”  I felt the shudder again. I felt compelled to run; it took all my concentration to hold my ground, especially when his hand started groping in his pocket. I exhaled an audible sigh of relief when he pulled out a vibrating phone. “Too bad, duty calls.” When he finished reading whatever text he’d received, he reached out and touched my chin. “And you didn’t give me your name. Yet.”  He turned on his heel and strode out. My knees buckled as soon as he was out of sight and I collapsed back onto the couch.

“So this is how you stay out of trouble?”  I looked up to see Bud, arms crossed, brow arched high.

“Bud! Oh Jesus, what did you see?”

“Enough.”

Johnny walked over with two regular coffees, gave one to Bud. “He wanted to step in, but I told him you could handle it.”

“And so you could laugh at me. What fun for you.”

“Do you know him?”  Bud scowled.  I started to shake my head no, but stopped myself. “Do you?” he repeated, more urgently the second time.

“No, but something about him was familiar.” I pressed my eyelids tight. “His eyes, so black, like a shark’s.”  I opened my own again, wide. “No, a shark is all instinct. This was worse, it had purpose,” I shuddered. “I looked for you; I didn’t see you.”

“We were behind that display, Bella.  We didn’t want him to make us.”

“Make you, why?”

“That was the guy we just met with. Weird that he’d come in here after, that he’d talk to you of all people.”  He threw off a shrug, then looked between Bud and me.  “Let’s not waste any more of your day, huh? I saw a place around the corner looked good for lunch.”

I took both their arms and we strolled over to the restaurant, finding a corner table for the three of us. I reached out to touch both their hands; I was beginning to feel normal again. “So, that guy, can you tell me about him? Bet you’re finding a lot of creepy stuff on him.”

“No, actually, he’s checking out.” The waitress came to take our orders, I waited until she’d left.

“You’re kidding! He’s got to be hiding something.  I wouldn’t be surprised if he were a sex offender. ”

Johnny finished buttering his roll and stuffed into his mouth, and answered me, mouth full.  “Nope, Cal Tech grad, PhD from same. Steady job history with some top startups. Divorced, no kids. No current girlfriend although he’s had his share since the split.  Plays golf.”

“That’s what it is about the guy. He plays golf,” Bud laughed.

“Guys, he hits on women in coffee shops. He could be a sexual harassment suit waiting to happen.”

“Bella, he struck up a conversation with an attractive woman. No crime there.”

“He fondled my new things!”

“Think the fucker’s pulled something somewhere, John? People could be bought off if the money’s right.”

“Bud, she’s letting her imagination go crazy. We’ve got no probable cause to look any deeper than we have.”

“We’re not cops anymore, John, we don’t need probable cause,” Bud said with a snicker.

“You think my imagination’s crazy? Johnny?”

“No, Bella, but you spent what, five minutes with the guy?”

“You didn’t see the way he was looking at me. Those eyes, Jesus, I’ve seen those eyes before.”   I covered my eyes, trying to will another picture in my head.  When I opened them again, both of them looked at me quizzically. “Bobby Gibson.”

“Bella, he’s dead.  That man is not one who killed your sister.”  Johnny put his hand on mine. “She’s been a little jumpy with the show.”

Bud grunted, scowled.

I pulled my hand away from Johnny and crossed my arms. “Jumpy? I saw what I saw.”

“I’m sure you did, Bella. Look, you have a point about the harassment. It’s worth looking a little deeper into it.  I’ll check it out this afternoon.  You go relax with Bud.”

“I’m on it, Sheriff,” Bud chuckled and circled my waist with his arm.

“You’re humoring me, I don’t like being humored.”

Bud put his lips to my ear. “You’ll like the way I humor you.”

I smiled despite myself. “What is this, you two playing good-cop, good-cop?”

He kissed my cheek and snuck a quick tug at my earlobe. “I’m always the bad cop, baby.”

“Oh my,” I sighed, nearly melting into my seat.

“I think that’s my cue,” Johnny said with a chuckle.  Standing, he added, “I’ll grab a cab back to the agency.”

“You sure, Johnny? We can drop you.”

“I’m sure. You two have fun, see you tomorrow, Bella.”  He gave me a peck on the cheek and took off.  He was barely out of sight before I had my lips on Bud’s.

“Let’s get out of here.”  Bud tossed down some bills and we hurried out.  I don’t know about bad cop, but he does do the naughty cop, very very well.  We drove back via the shore road, and damned if we didn’t have to pull over to grab some impromptu beach time, suits decidedly optional.  Fresh air and a fresher cop helped put the morning’s encounter out of my mind for a bit.

By the time we got home it was time for dinner. I cooked; he sat at the kitchen table and sipped scotch. It made me smile to feel his eyes on me.

“You’re feeling better now, baby.” It was a comment, not a question.

“Why shouldn’t I? You bad-copped me all afternoon,” I blew him a kiss.

“Missed it, try again.”  I blew another.  He stood and stuck out his hand. “Bad aim, again.”  Giggling, I tried once more. “Something’s not right. Here.”  He put his fingers on my lips. “Try one more time.” I puckered and pressed my lips to the tips. He brought them to his mouth, but then pulled me to him for a real barn burner.

“I’ll burn the dinner.”

“Then we’ll order pizza.”

“Wait, wait . . . “  I managed to pull the dinner of the stove, but the heat was definitely on.  It was a good thing we hadn’t set the kitchen table yet. The food was only slightly ruined, but we set it up on the coffee table in his living room and picked out a movie to watch for the evening.

I didn’t remember falling asleep or getting into bed, but when I woke up, I was disoriented. It didn’t seem like Bud’s place at all. It was more modern and there was odd music playing. I heard awful grunts coming from another room and all of a sudden I felt a stabbing pain below, as if someone was ripping my insides. I reached down, slamming my eyes shut to the pain when someone growled at me to open them.

“Look at me, bitch. Yeah, me, you’re not stopping this, baby.” I opened my eyes and saw him above me. I cried out, it hurt so much. His hands were on my throat and his eyes were searing into me. “Take it, take it, take it,” he repeated to the rhythm of his thrusts. I struggled but it made harder to breathe. I blanked for a second, then looked up to see myself, with my own hands around my throat.

“Shhh, you’ll just pass out,” I heard myself say, or was it her? “For a few, then we’ll get him.”  I passed out again, only to be awakened by the pain again. “No, no, stop, don’t hurt her, don’t hurt her! Don’t hurt me!” I thrashed, even though his hands were getting tighter.

Then it stopped.  Nothing was on my throat, just arms around my shoulders and lips on my forehead.

“Baby, it’s all right, I’ve got you, you’re safe, you’re safe.”

“My sister? She’s all right?”

“You were having a nightmare, baby, shhh.”

“My sister? Where is she?” I pulled myself out of his arms. “It’s so dark, where is she?”

“Laurie, baby, c’mere.”  He pulled me, I pushed back.

“Not until I find her! She was here, I heard her!”  I jumped out of bed and into the bathroom, lunging for the light switch. “There she is! Lee! Jesus, are you okay?”  I startled when Bud appeared behind her.

“That’s you, baby.” He said calmly, wrapping me up in his arms. “Helluva dream.”

“Dream?” Tears began to sting my eyes? “Dream? It was so real, it felt so real, it sounded so real. Those eyes, he was going to kill me.”

“Yeah, you got away though.”

I looked long at the image in the bathroom mirror. “Which one of us got away?”

“What?”

“I said, which one of us got away?”

“Laurie, you did.”

“Are you sure? You never met us.”  My eyes were drawn to the bracelets on my arm. I tugged them off. “No, no, Ree doesn’t wear bangles. Ree doesn’t paint. Ree doesn’t fuck on a kitchen table.” I stared harder, pulled at my face.  “Maybe I just took over.”

Bud scowled and held me tighter. “You’re shook up, not thinking straight.”  He lifted me up and carried me to the bed. “Where’d this come from, baby? That guy today?”

“I haven’t had that dream for so long. I was feeling safe. But it came back today. The dream was so real, Bud, my God,” I broke down again. He stroked my back and pulled me close.

“S’alright, it’s over now. Here, I’ll just turn this light on. Better?” I nodded and buried my head in his shoulder.

“I’m getting your shoulder wet.”

“Like I care?  Shhh, it’s all right.”  We sat like that for a few minutes as I tried to regain my bearings. “Laurie.”  I felt myself stiffen at the name. “Laurie,” he repeated. “you need to go back to sleep.”

“No, no, I don’t want to sleep. He’ll be there!”

“He won’t. I’m here. It’s three a.m. baby, let me help you get back to sleep.”

“Okay,” I smacked my lips, my tears had taken all the moisture from my mouth. “I’m thirsty.”

“Alright then, I’ll be right back. You okay here?”

“Yes, keep the door open, let me hear you in the kitchen.”  He did what I asked and I heard him curse as he tried to maneuver in the kitchen in the near darkness. I concentrated on every sound: the opening of the cabinet door, then the fridge, the sounds of ice being rustled in its tray, the splash of liquid hitting ice and glass.  He must have been downing a bit of it himself because there was silence after a single pour.  As I waited, I looked down at my nightgown. He’d touched it. That was the source of my dream; I was convinced.  I tore it over my head and tossed it as far as I could, then leaned over the bed and felt around until I found something to put on. Bud’s t-shirt. I’d finished tugging it over my head when I heard the smash.

“What is it?”  I ran out into the hallway.

“No, don’t come in here. I dropped a glass.”

I made it to the edge of the kitchen. His jaw was set and his hands were clenching and unclenching. “You didn’t just drop it, did you? Bud, I made you angry.”

“No, you didn’t. Now stay the fuck back, you’re fucking barefoot!  Where’s the fucking dustpan?”  He rummaged under the sink until he found it.

“Something did.”

He swept furiously at the broken chards.  “Fucking death penalty, wish he was alive still, I’d rip him apart.”

“No, Bud, don’t say that. You’re right, it was just a dream. I’m going to have them occasionally.”

“That’s not what you said a minute ago.”

“It’s over. I need to live my life now, I can’t go back.”  He continued the cleanup. “I just miss her so much, Bud. It hurts so much she’s gone.”

“I know, baby, that’ll never go away, will it?”

I shook my head. “It can’t, I can’t let it, no matter how safe I feel here.”  Bud put down the dustpan and when he looked up at me, the sides of his mouth turned up.

“What are you wearing? What happened to your new nightgown?”

“I think it gave me the nightmare,” I said, looking down at myself. “Took your tee-shirt, you mind?”

“Jesus, you never need to spend another penny in that lingerie place.”

“What, you like this?”  I opened my arms wide to give him a better look.

“Clings to all the right places,” he said, sliding his arms around my waist.

“I like thinking how you filled it not long ago.”

He ran his hands over me then dropped them suddenly. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be thinking the things I’m thinking, not after that dream you had.”

“No,” I took his face in his hands. “I love that you do. It’s good, it makes me feel alive. Make me feel alive, Bud.”  I walked backwards, tugging him gently by his cheeks.

“You sure?”

“I’m more than sure.”

“For the living then.”

He reached for the lights but I stuck my hand out. “No, I want to see you.”  He was just in his boxers, so it didn’t take long to improve the view.   He touched me through the tee shirt at first until the need for flesh to find flesh took over. As intently as he looked at me, it didn’t burn like those other’s eyes, but warmed me from within. And the heat spread until I was reaching out to him, aching for him to replace the hate and the pain with love and pleasure.  His lips, insistent yet gentle. His hands, large and nimble, finding all the places that make me moan for him. It wasn’t enough to take, I had to give, to taste, to feel him tremble to my touch the way he’d made me. And when we couldn’t bear being apart a second longer, he stretched our arms to the side and entwined his fingers in mine and came in. “It doesn’t hurt, baby, not with you, not like this,”  I said, answering his silent question. His shoulders relaxed at my words and we began to move, hips pulsing against hips, lips taking more kisses, hands squeezing and unsqueezing until the heat burst into a flame that seemed to engulf us both.

“Feel alive now, baby?”

“So very, very, very,” I replied, peppering him with kisses as he rolled me to my place by his side. I reached up and stroked his cheek. “Mmm, stubble time. Can I shave you tomorrow?”

“If you let me wash your hair.”

“You just want to nail me in the shower.”

He laughed into my hair. “Only you would say that after we just did what we did.”

“What? I like being nailed in the shower, especially when you’re holding me up.”

“Okay, but I need to rest up some first, baby.”

“Guess I could go sleepy now.”

“Then sleep. You first,” he stroked my hair gently and I fell into a dreamless sleep.

When I woke up I was still slightly disoriented.  Even in the light of day, the remnants of my nightmare came back to me. Bud eyed me with concern. “Any more dreams?”

“No, no dreams,” I replied as we walked into the bathroom. I was still shocked to see the image of the woman in the mirror. “Just still not myself I guess.”

Bud nodded and looked uncertainly at the razor and shaving cream in his hands. “Am I sure I want you to shave me this morning?”

“Yes, I’m making it worth your while, remember?”  I slathered the shaving cream on and took his chin in my hand, wondering where to start. “Funny how it just keeps coming back.”

“Your dream?”

“Your beard, every day it grows back, and every day you make it clean again.”

“Or you’re here to help.” I nodded and swiped the razor up his cheek.  He took my wrist and looked into my eyes. “Like we’re here for you, okay, baby?”

I gulped back the tears and steeled myself to finish the shave.  I glanced back up at the reflection and wondered just how much help the woman in the mirror was going to need before she felt right again.

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Cookies and Candlelight (07/14/2009)
© 07/2009 By: Ree

I was a little flirty on the board and made a date with Cal. I wondered what to make of a second date. Clearly the tenor of our conversation was . . . well, suggestive. But the thought of turning the talk into action made me nervous. Weren’t we taking things slow?

He was a few minutes late, so instead of pacing in the kitchen or family room, I escaped to my studio to take another look at the pieces I’d selected for the show Steve had arranged for him and me. I’d changed the lineup a hundred times and I was going to change it a hundred more before I was done. I lost track of time, naturally, and didn’t hear Cal enter.

“Well now, this looks like a working studio.” I turned toward the soft deep voice.

“Cal! Look at the time! You haven’t been here long, have you?”

“Not long. It didn’t take more than a minute for anyone to guess where you’d gone. So, this what you’re showing?”

I quickly positioned myself in front of the row of pieces and held out my arms to hide them. “No, don’t look, no sneak peeks!”

He laughed. “C’mon, Ree, just one? I’ve never seen anything you’ve done. Okay I won’t look.” He covered his eyes. “See?” He turned around to emphasize his point. “Pick out one?”

“Oh all right,” I said, relenting. “Here’s something of Steve’s and mine. Take my hand, come over here.” I maneuvered him to one of the tables and turned him around.

“Not three times to disorient me?” he said with a chuckle. “Can I open now?”

“Yes, open.” He widened his eyes and took a look. I felt the urge to explain it. “It’s a black and white of one of Steve’s photographs. I painted over it.” He cocked his head one way, then another. “I know, I could probably do the same effect in photoshop, but paint’s got texture and it’s much more fun to use actual brushes and . . . “ I realized I was prattling. “You don’t like it.”

“No, it’s nice.”

“Nice.” I hoped he didn’t see me cringe.

“I’m trying to see . . . you do this because of your synesthesia? I’m trying to imagine.”

“Oh! That.” I hesitated, suddenly embarrassed. “Yes, that peachy color, that was . . . “ I cleared my throat and tried not to smile, remembering. “. . .inspiration, but it’s not like I rush over here and paint after I see a color.”

“After sex.” He arched a brow at me.

“You don’t believe it?”

“It’s rather a specific form of the syndrome, isn’t it?”

I should have known he’d do research. “Technically it’s not sex, but during . . . y’know.”

“Orgasm.” I sucked in a breath. Jesus, the way these boys say that word is enough to give me one.

“Yes. I realize it’s probably very odd to you . . .” I wanted explain about how certain innate things could be transformed with conditioning, but I thought it best to leave Sid out of the conversation. Luckily Cal interrupted me with a laugh.

“Given what I’ve seen these past weeks, no, it’s not odd to me at all, any more. I’m curious, though.”

“Oh, well, um . . . we’ll have to see about that,” I stammered, hating the warm flush that spread over my cheeks.

“I mean, let me see what else you have.”

“No, no, no.” I covered his eyes. “Wouldn’t be fair - no one except me and Steve until August 1.” I pushed him out of the door. “There. I’m turning into a crazy woman about this, I have to get away from it.”

“No problem.” We stood and looked at each other, then at the ground. Cal took a glimpse at the brownstone across the street. Then he laughed and ran his fingers through his hair. “I suppose what we’re supposed to do is go across the street.”

“Yeah, guess so. Deep background and all,” I said, referring to our on-board conversation.

“Right.” He paused. “We don’t have to. We could go out. Get some coffee or ice cream or something.”

“Sure, if you want, let me get my keys.” I turned to go in the house but he grabbed my wrist to stop me. When I jolted, he dropped it and put his hands in the air.

“Sorry, I guess I really don’t want to go out.”

“Let’s go to the brownstone then, there’s coffee there, and maybe cookies.”

“Jesus, you’d really go across the street with me, like that?” He snapped his fingers.

“Of course!” We walked across the street and I stopped in the doorway. “However, what happens now may or may not be ‘like that’!” I snapped my fingers and walked in backwards, looking at him to follow me. “Maybe my feelings are all hurt because you didn’t gush over my painting.”

“Oh, flattery, is that what you want?”

“Flattery’s good. I enjoy a good flatter.”

He fell silent, let his eyes wander over me. “I can manage that. Where would you like to be flattered?”

“I was thinking . . . “ I said, heading toward the kitchen. “. . . we could raid the cupboards, go out to the patio. Play some music, light some candles, dance a little bit. That was fun last time, wasn’t it?”

“Flattery under the stars? Sounds perfect. So, what do we have?” He opened the fridge and leaned down to look in. “There’s a bottle of wine.”

“Cookies are usually in here.” I opened a cabinet.

“You know your way around this kitchen.”

“Just a little, it’s right across the street!”

“Yuh-huh, that’s not what I heard . . .”

“Watch it, you’ll lose flattery points.” He gestured, buttoning his lips. I passed the wine glasses and the cookies and he put them on a tray while I found the candles. “Let me get this out there. Will you start the music? It’ll pipe out to the patio. And no comments on how I know that, I just do.”

“I didn’t say anything except how beautiful you look tonight.”

“But you didn’t say that.”

“I just did.”

I looked over my shoulder as I headed out to the patio. “Let’s see if I let that count.”

The candles were lit, the wine was poured, and Cal walked out to the strains of Billy Holliday. “This okay?”

“Good to dance to, yes.” I handed him a glass of wine and raised mine. “Steve would say this should be a dessert wine with the cookies, but what the hell.”

“What the hell’s a good toast. Wine. What the hell!”

We watched each other sip, and reached for the same cookie. “Oops, sorry.”

“Ladies first.” He bowed his head.

“Ooh, the flattery begins. I’m a lady, am I?”

“A lady who needs a dance partner.” He held out his hand. “Come here, Ree.” I put the glass down and let myself be pulled toward him, be enveloped by him. “More like it,” he said, softly.

“You’re comfy,” I said with a sigh.

“That’s like ‘nice’, isn’t it?”

“What?” I pulled away from him. “No, it’s not, comfy’s good. Comfy makes me want to get closer and put my arms around you, like this.” I put one arm around him, a hand on his chest, and snuggled onto his shoulder. “Mmmm, nice.”

“Nice. See? I’ll never be the one girls like to pounce on, I guess.” He chuckled in a way that made me look up into his eyes. They were smiling but tinged with regret.

“Do you want to be?”

“Who doesn’t?”

“What about seduction? Something to be said for seduction.” I rubbed my hand up and down his chest.

“Seduction and flattery, As in, ‘I can’t believe a woman as beautiful as you wants me to seduce her.’?”

“As in, your voice makes me tingle all over.”

“Does it now? How about, ‘the way you smell is doing the same to me.’”

“How about, ‘I bet you feel as good as you feel.’” I kneaded his back and his chest.

“How about I bet your lips taste as good as the wine we just drank?” He bent over and nibbled on my bottom lip, then sucked in the top before taking them both.

“Yours taste better,” I said, barely catching my breath. His hand had made it to my breast during our long snog, and remained there, lightly massaging it. Without a word I pulled his hand away and then guided it up and under my shirt. He let out a soft grunt as fingers found flesh. His hands started doing marvelous things as I started tugging his shirt out of his jeans.

“Your skin’s so soft.”

“Your beard is too.” I ran a hand up and down his cheek then up into his hair. “And your hair.” We danced our way around the patio, kissing, touching, murmuring our flattering observations. We managed to shed most of the clothes and ended up with me in his lap on the double lounger. “Cal? Baby?” I asked, between kisses.

“Yes?”

“Can I be under you, the first time?”

He answered by rolling me over to the empty part of the chaise. I wrapped my arms around his neck, and my legs around his waist. “How’s that?” He looked at me up and down, and smiled. “We can really do this, can’t we?”

“Yes, we can,” I sighed, and rubbed against him hot and hard against my belly. “Oh my God, you feel good.”

“Hope this feels better . . .” He kissed down my neck to my breasts again, pulling my nipples out and twisting his tongue around them. I arched my back and fisted my hands in his hair, moaning out his name. He kissed down further, pausing at my lower belly before kissing back up, his hand remained below, his thick fingers doing magic all their own.

“Cal . . .” I opened my eyes, sought his out. When the first shudders came my focus shattered and my vision filled with the swirling delight that matched what I felt. And then he pushed inside and my fog began to clear, replaced by the wonderful feeling of him filling me. I smiled, it felt so right, just us two in the candlelight. We watched each other’s reactions, what touch felt good, what pace brought the deepest growl, what to whisper in each other’s ears. The wonderful exploration that left us panting and sweaty and almost sliding off the lounger. “Come back this way, baby,” I said, pointing to the free spot on my left. He chuckled and maneuvered next to me, I snuggled back onto his shoulder, where I’d begun our little dance.

“Still can’t believe this is all okay,” he said with a chuckle. “Not that I’m complaining, mind you.” He tipped my face up to bestow another kiss. “In fact, I could quickly get used to it.”

“I’m never used to it. I’m always surprised at how I feel. Just right, just home.”

“With all of us? Really?”

It made my heart leap to hear him say ‘us’ like that. But then I thought about my remark. “No, I guess that can’t be right,” I said, knowing that some of the encounters I had were anything but ‘homey.’ “But I’m in dippy happy land right now,” I added with a sigh, “and it’s all good.”

“Oh yeah,” he agreed. “I’m not sure I seduced you, exactly.” He looked at me with a naughty grin.

“Sure you did! You said nice things, you held me close . . . “ I laughed at his quirked brow. “Did we pounce then?”

“Wasn’t quite a pounce, either. We made it out to the patio. Prepared snacks.”

“No, less than a pounce, not quite a seduction. What would you call it?”

“A first time, I’d say.”

“Shall we toast to it?” I jumped up and retrieved the tray with the wine and cookies. They were especially delicious with the appetite we’d worked up. We settled back onto the lounger and he rocked me gently to the music that still played until the candle flickered its last, signaling the end of our evening. We cleaned and dressed and made the quick trip back across the street. We paused in my doorway. It was time for goodnights.

“Y’know, normally it takes me longer to get to the snacking naked stage with a woman,” he pushed back my hair and looked at me thoughtfully.

“Disappointed?”

“Not a bit, it felt right, like you said.” He brought my fingers to his lips. Kissed them. “Until next time, Ree.”

“Next time maybe we pounce.”

“Maybe. Seduction’s good too, I hear.”

“As long as it happens.”

“It’ll happen.” A last kiss and he was on his way. I went inside, closed the door, and leaned my back against it. I touched my lips and smiled. First time, one to remember, I told myself. I heard the sights and sounds a full house: a roar of the crowd of some ball game, laughing voices from the kitchen, lights on in the upstairs hall. I smiled and turned off the porch light. It was time to let them know. I was home.

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Two for the Show (07/07/2009)
© 07/2009 By: Steve

It pays to be persistent. After two months of phone calls and emails, I finally had some good news - but how to tell Ree?  Should I toss out a nonchalant remark as we’re getting dressed in the morning?  Should I say it with flowers?  Take her out, make an occasion of it?  I decided I was over-thinking it and just went home. Luckily, she was alone, making dinner. I slipped in behind her and put my arms around her waist.

“Who loves ya babe?”

She didn’t look up from the vegetables. “I don’t know, who loves me?”

“Don’t turn around, can’t you tell?”

“Hmmm, no fuzz, can’t be Johnny.  Grip’s tight, but not too, can’t be Jimmy.  No southern accent, can’t be Ed.  No Aussie accent either, although Jeff could be faking. Too short for Charles. And if it were John, I think his hands would already be elsewhere . . .”

“Jesus, we live with too many of my fucking brothers!”  I swept up her hair and kissed her sweet skin from where her tank dipped down in the back, all the way up to the nape. I let a hand slide around and up, just catching the moment when her nips get firm, poking though whatever sweet underthing she was wearing. Her back arched and I let her hair fall; my other hand had more to touch.

“Just one I want now,” she said, her voice a whisper.  There was nothing I wanted more at that point, either. Taking her cue, I kept up the kisses on her neck, her soft moans and sighs had me harder than a rock.

“How now is now?” I spun her around, her eyes were closed, her lips were parted in pleasure, waiting to be kissed. Not waiting for an answer, I took her lips in mine.

“Steve, oh, it’s you.”  I smiled into our kiss, not buying that act for a second.

“Who’d you expect, Telly Savalas?”

She laughed, took a good fistful of my hair.  “Nu-uh, just my guy,” she said, grinding her hips into me. “Ooh, what’s that?”

“That’s for me to know and you to find out, babe.”  Lucky for me she wanted to find out, first handling me through my tightening trousers, then working a little magic with her fingers until in a flash I was out and at ‘em.  “My turn,” I busied myself as well. Good god, I needed to feel the skin where my hands had been. Skin to skin, my mouth on her. How she melts when my lips go to work.

“Touch me Steve, touch me, please.”

“Wrap your legs around me, hold on.”  She wrapped, gripped, and I turned her around and carried her to the kitchen table. I buried my head between her breasts again, letting my hands do the rest. She gripped at me, my shoulders, my hair, writhing against me until she was overcome. That cry of hers does me in every time.  I lifted her hips and pressed into her.

“Deeper, babe, oh please, hahder, hahder.” I just love how she surrenders to the moment, sinking everything into pleasure, hers and mine.  My hands grasping hers and my lips on her ears, she went over again, this time taking me with her. We whispered our ‘I love you’s” as the beating of our hearts calmed.

“I don’t think I can stand,” she said with a deep sigh.

“I know I can’t.”

“Jesus, Steve. How can you still rev me up so much, after all this time?” Her eyes searched my face for the answer, even as she brushed my hair off my face.

“I just have to smell you, I think.”  I said, “or touch you.”

“Or just be there,” she smiled and my heart melted anew.

“Oh shit, I forgot!”

“What? Oh, right! We’re in the kitchen! At dinnertime!” She gave me a slight push and I toppled off. A mad scramble for our clothes had us both laughing. “Quick, someone might come.”

“Too late for that.  You should have thought of that when you said ‘now’.”

“Did I? You were kissing my neck, I’m not responsible for what I say when you kiss my neck.”

I brushed her hair back and tickled said spot as we kissed. “Damn, you made me forget what I was saying again. Now don’t interrupt this time.  Ready?”  She nodded eagerly. “I got us a show.”

“A show? Tickets to something?”

“A show for us. You and me.  My stuff on one wall, yours on the other. An actual gallery, not a coffee shop. It took a fucking lot of phone calls, a little pleading, hell, outright begging. And their commissions are higher than I should have taken . . . “

“Commissions?”

“If we sell anything. Which is a big if these days, which is why I agreed to the percentage. Anyway it’s up in Santa Barbara, good location, lots of tourist foot traffic.”
She looked as if I was speaking a foreign language to her.  “Babe, this is a good thing!”

“I thought it would take longer . . . forever even.”

“You’re ready, babe. I’ve seen what you’ve got.”

She took a deep breath, held it. “Okay, okay, when? Jeez! Really?!”  She exhaled, it was beginning to sink in.

“First of next month. It’ll be whole month of August. So? Who loves ya babe?”

“You do, you do, you do!”  She bounced over to me and peppered kisses, which I was happy to accept. “Guess we’ll need to have thank-you sex later.”

“What did we just have?”

“You hadn’t told me yet, so that was haven’t-seen-you-all-day sex.  Thank-you sex involves much more skin and my lips on more places.”

“Damn. I think I’ll like thank-you sex.”  I nuzzled her again. “How about clean-up sex?”

“No, if I give in to clean-up sex, I’ll never get dinner ready.”  She turned back to the counter and grabbed paper towels and some cleaner. “Here, wipe the table down.  I’ll grab a quick shower.  Then you can have a turn.”

“Aww . . .”

“Later, babe. Think about later.” I did, of course, and nice thoughts they were.

When we were all home and gathered for our meal, I shared the news with the rest of the family.  Congratulations were given all around and I admit it made me proud to be able to say I did something for her that no one else could. Everyone had an opinion on what pieces she should pick, but I held my tongue, said I’d wait until she asked for my input. Truth was, though, I could see the rising panic in her eyes.  I wasn’t surprised when she bolted to her studio after dinner instead of watching the ball game with us.

The ball game went extra innings and it was late when we headed up to bed.  I was done being patient, I’d been promised thank-you sex after all, so I went to fetch her.  She sat in the middle of the room, surrounded by some of her work.

“Babe, c’mon, you don’t have to decide it all tonight, there’s time.”

“I don’t know about this, Steve.”

Now that was not what I expected to hear. “What’s not to know?”

“It shouldn’t be me.”

“It’s me too, babe.”

“No, I mean, it shouldn’t be me!”  She covered her face in her hands. What had made her so sad?  There was only one thing.

“It’s your work, Ree.”

“But it’s not right.  This is her life I’m living, she should be here instead of me.  She would be here if it weren’t for me.”

My heart ached to see the pain in her face.  I rushed to the floor in front of her and took her hands in mine. “Ree, babe, look at me.”  She met my gaze; I could see tears welling. “Your sister would want you to be happy, wouldn’t she?” Ree answered with a nod. “You’ve made your life here. You and me, and the rest of us. And we’re happy, aren’t we?”  Another nod. “You think Lee wouldn’t want you to have a show because she was supposed to be the artist? Do you really think that?”

“Yes.  No.  She would want to be better than me.”

“But not that you shouldn’t do it.”

She chuckled. “No, she was definitely a ‘go-for-it’ kind of person.  I just never wanted to be second best, so I . . . “  she stopped, mid-sentence.

“Went another way.”  Another nod. “Okay, but now you’re doing this, and it’s going to be great.”  She rolled her eyes. “Don’t you be rolling your eyes at me, young lady. I went to a lot of trouble for this.”

“You want the thank-you sex.”

“Damn right, and time’s a wasting.”  The smile started slowly and as it bloomed to a grin, I leaned in to kiss it. “But if you want to talk it out some more, we can do that, too.”

“I’ll be okay.”

“It’ll never quite go away, will it?”

“No, why should it?”  Her eyes flashed, a sudden anger bursting to the surface.

“It shouldn’t, babe, of course.”  I stood and offered a hand. “Come to bed, to talk, or whatever.”  She let me pull her up and put my arms tightly around her, hoping to squeeze that anger away. “Whatever happened before you came here made you what you are. I wish to hell you didn’t have to lose what you lost, but it brought you here.  Is it wrong to want it to mean something?”

“I don’t know.”  I held her tight and said a silent ‘see you later’ to the thank-you sex.

After a few minutes she broke the embrace and took my hand. “Can we change our plans for the night, Steve?”

“Yeah, sure, whatever you want, babe.”

“Good, let’s just go upstairs.”  We climbed the stairs in silence, only our hands touching.  When we reached our doorway, she stopped and gently pressed me against the jamb, leaning into me to give me one hell of a smooch. “Just ‘I-love-you’ sex, okay? Like we do?”

I couldn’t suppress my grin. I-love-you sex? That’s the kind that trumps them all.

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