To Hell in a Coach Bag

by M. J. Schiller

  "Cause I see the logic in that... OUCH! I give."

  "Say it," the she-devil insisted, not releasing her grip, but sliding so she kneeled behind me at the edge of the bed.

  "What? Okay. Okay! I want you."

  She loosened her hands, but didn't let go. "Say it again."

  "Sam," I said calmly, catching her eye in the mirror. In the reflection, her white sweater was juxtaposed by my black shirt. I put my hands over hers and said distinctly, "I want you."

  She smiled from ear to ear, the victory hers. "I knew it." She bounced across the bed.

  I turned and stared at her. "Are you not going to give me anything? Not one little morsel?" At first, I was kidding, but something inside me went from a low boil to boiling over in a heartbeat. "I told you I wanted you. What about you?"

  She didn't say anything, just stared at me.

  I turned around in disgust. "Man."

  She crawled back to me. "Oh, come on now, Kyle. You know I want you, baby," she crooned, running her long fingernails under my shirt and up my back from the waist slowly. It felt incredible. But it ticked me off all the more.

  I bolted from the bed. "No. Not that way. Don't tease me."

  "Kyle?"

  "Geez!" I raked a hand through my hair and flopped on the other bed. "You're making me a freakin' lunatic."

  She sat on her bed, directly across from me. "I don't mean to," she said quietly.

  "Yes, you do."

  We were silent. She began to rub her foot in small circles on the carpet, her pretty painted toenails going around and around. "Do you want me to leave?"

  I thought about it. "No," I huffed, disgusted with myself. I stood and yanked at the buttons on my shirt.

  Her foot stopped circling. "What are you doing?"

  "I don't know." I blew out my breath. "Whatever you want. I thought you wanted to fool around or something?"

  She stood slowly and made her way to the end of the bed. As she stopped to pick something up, I craned my neck to see, and realized it was her shoe.

  "What? Now you're leaving? You are one of the most insane women I've ever met." She found her other shoe and moved toward the door. I leaped and, right as she opened it, I slammed it shut. "Wait, okay. I'm sorry." She stood still. I was prepared for her to rip into me, or start to cry or something, but she simply stood there. "You just..." I bent my neck and rested my head on her back. "You make me crazy."

  "She turned around, and her chocolate eyes had tears in them. I h-have feelings, too, you know."

  "I know," I murmured, wrapping my arms around her. She was stiff at first, but eventually she let her arms slide around my waist and laid her head on my chest. She dropped her shoes with a heavy thud, and I held her, unsure of what else to do. We stood there for... I don't know... five minutes, and then she stepped back and gazed into my eyes.

  Without speaking, she took my hand and led me to the bed. I sat, and she came to stand between my legs. My hands slid across the backs of her thighs, and she raised her hand, lacing her fingers in my hair. Her brows furrowed in concentration, and she started running her hands over my face like a blind sculptor learning his model. I closed my eyes and let myself absorb her closeness. When I opened them, I covered one of her hands with my own, then turned to kiss the inside of her palm. She gazed at me again with that unexplainable expression, like she'd allowed a mask to slide from her features for a second.

  She stepped back and, pinching her bottom zipper pull between two dainty fingernails, slowly coaxed it up until her sweater parted to her bra line. I reached for her and drew her to me, watching my hands as they glided over the bronzed skin of her stomach. I became hard with desire. She clasped the upper zipper pull and reversed direction. She slid the sweater over her head.

  Beneath was a bright red pushup bra. I outlined the edges of the lace with my fingertips, and she sucked in her breath, closing her eyes. No hint of a smile showed on her face. What we were doing now wasn't cold and calculating or devoid of feeling. It was red-hot and deadly serious. In contrast with the fast and mindless way we started, our movements were now slow, deliberate, almost reverent. More than I could have hoped for with her earlier.

  She pushed my shirt off my shoulders, and it dropped to the bed. As she rubbed her hands across my chest, her fingers worked the muscle tentatively. I studied her face. She was absorbed in what she was doing. Oblivious to being watched, instead of putting on a show like she usually did. She bit her bottom lip, and then found my eyes again. For a split second, I saw fear.

  "Come here," I said softly. "My turn." I patted the bed beside me. She sat obediently, and I stood in front of her. I let my gaze travel over her, not touching. "No. Up on the bed more." She moved back and brought her heels to rest on the bed. Leaning on her elbows, she slowly let her head drop behind her and closed her eyes. I knelt in front of her and ran my hands over her stomach, and then traded my hands for my mouth. A small, desperate sound came from her throat as she lowered her back to the bed. Her hands lifted and became tangled in my hair—to both touch me, and keep me there, I think. I rolled my tongue over her skin, letting her every sound and movement guide me. Her muscles relaxed, and she moaned, calling out my name, which paradoxically made my body tense as steel.

  When I stood, she opened her eyes. She seemed anxious for a moment, then expectant, watching me. I could taste her longing on my tongue, sense it in my fingertips. I gestured for her to scoot to the center of the bed. I knelt and made trails across her thighs and along her smooth legs, switching from inside to out several times. Her eyes clouded with pleasure. I brought my hands to the insides of her knees and parted her legs, caressing to her core. Her eyes widened, but she didn't move. Laying one hand flat on her stomach, I guided the other between her legs. She pressed into my hand, and her lips parted with a long, breathless, "Oohm."

  Heat radiated through the denim, through my skin, and into my blood. I knew inside, she was ready, as I was—but we weren't going there yet. I clawed at her pants button, and she brought her legs around me. I urged the zipper down as she arched her back and struggled them off, and then tossed them somewhere.

  Holding her gaze, I slowly lowered my head between her legs until she was forced to lift hers to follow what I was doing. I pressed my tongue against her silk panties and then closed my mouth down, working my tongue to massage her. Sooner than I expected, she peaked, letting out a soft, shivering scream of ecstasy. I traveled up her body, laying my heated flesh against hers and nibbled on her ear as she enjoyed the end of her ride, finally melting into the mattress.

  "Don't get too comfy. Cause there's gonna be more of that. A lot more." Sliding my hands under her, I gripped her waistband and tugged her panties off. I stood, my pants coming off next.

  "Stand." I was totally getting off on ordering her around, being the one in charge of her for a change, instead of the one groveling at her feet. I reached behind her and pulled her against me. Her breath rushed from her lungs and warmed me. I fumbled with her bra clasp and released her flesh. "Mmm-mm-mm," I murmured shakily. Lifting her, I whipped the covers from the bed with one violent tug, revealing a blank canvas for our lovemaking. "Lay."

  She barely hit the bed before I was on top of and in her, thrusting to release my piles of pent up tension. She moaned, and her hands reached to clutch the side of the bed. She screamed with pleasure at each thrust and called out my name frantically. Her next peak came with a shattering intensity that left her legs quivering. I watched her face as she arched, offering her graceful neck to the sky. Her eyes practically rolled back in her head.

  A "Yes!" left her throat with a hum and the most wonderful, satisfied smile crossed her face as she basked in the afterglow. When the last wave of bliss washed over her, she collapsed her legs to the mattress. I almost gave in and released with her and was forced to pull myself out to keep from falling over that edge.

  I let my gaze wander along the sweat-glistening length of her relaxed body and had to reel myself in again. I th
anked the stars for every woman I bedded, for everything they taught me that led me to this. To this one woman, the one I now knew I must have forever.

  I stroked her, and she protested with a smile. "No. I can't do anymore. It was... fantastic. Give me a minute to rest, and I'll satisfy you," she breathed.

  "Oh, no. You've got more in you yet."

  She shook her head, still smiling.

  "I know you don't think you do, but I'll show you."

  I massaged her from her shoulders down, and she gave in to me. When I'd worked over her feet, I had her flip and started again from the top, enjoying her soft, warm skin and toned muscles. When I made my way again to her core, her body was ready to respond to me once more. I let her be in the driver's seat for the most part this time. But, as she rose above me, I took hold of her hips and guided her gyrations with mine, moving beneath her in a way that pleased us both. This was a new for her. I could tell by the shocked and delighted noises she made. I waited for the moment, then let myself release, so we went together in an explosion of light.

  We lay together, shining with sweat and gasping for air. As she rolled next to me, we laughed weakly at our excess, then fell into a contented sleep within minutes. I woke and watched her, giving her exactly an hour and a half to recover before I stirred her by sucking her nipples. She shivered and surprised me by grabbing me hard and running her hand along my shaft. I laughed brokenly and closed my eyes, straightening to sit on my heels while she played with me. I groaned encouragement and opened my eyes to see hers glowing at me, but I put my hand on hers to stop its movement. When she released her hands, I jumped to my feet and pulled her up.

  "Time for a shower." I linked fingers with her and tugged her along with me. I started the water, and we climbed in. But before I could initiate anything, she dropped to her knees.

  "Let me please you," she said. I was about to protest, honestly I was, but when she looked up and begged me, "Please," I was done for.

  The water ran between us like silver glue. I bent my head, taking in her dark, water-slicked hair as she pushed it back and gazed at me, droplets on her face.

  "Yes," I consented, again delighted with the control she relinquished to me.

  She was good. More than good. And I reached out to the walls for support. The heat of the water, the pulse of her tongue... Things moved far more quickly than I expected for the second time around, but I couldn't let her take me over yet. I reached to cradle her chin and helped her to rise. I turned her and began to lather her, running my hands over her breasts from behind, coming ever closer to losing it.

  She reached back and dug her nails into my ass and then bent, reaching between my legs to bring me into her. With her hands on the shower wall, mine on her hips, we thrust together until she came, with me soon after. When we parted, she whirled around to melt with me into the water. Locked together like that, with the steamy water running over us, our bodies buzzed.

  "Oh, my gosh, Kyle. I never—"

  "Me, either."

  We did a hasty toweling off and fell into bed. I sprawled in a partial-X with a single bent knee. She lay perpendicular with her head on my abs. My left hand was on her breast as we fell asleep, at last content.

  Chapter 29

  Danielle

  I snuggled into Tucker as we lay on the blanket on the roof. Everything was fine at first. Then explosions erupted all around us. The little girl screamed in pain. I turned, and she grabbed her foot. Her mom tried to assess the injury, cover her to protect her from further flying debris, and look toward the direction the explosions were coming from, all at the same time. Like all of ours, the mother's face was a mask of pain and confusion, her brain trying to catch up from the instantaneous change from lazy summer celebration to war zone.

  I looked from her face, back to Tucker's. He smiled and kissed my hand, then he rose to walk away. The scent of warm grasses surrounded me. I glanced down and realized the rooftop had changed to a green field. I screamed for him to come back, but my voice only echoed. I knew what would happen next. It was always the same. He would fix the cannon, yes, but... he would then crumple to the ground, engulfed in flames and screaming in agony.

  I ran toward him with the blanket, yelling, begging him to stop, turn around, come back. He never listened. Why didn't he listen? Then, as I watched helplessly, his smiling face contorted, and his knees buckled. I ran, sobbing, knowing what I would see. The fire raged through my hand as it tore through my heart. And then I was holding Darren again as people shouted all around us, and he tried to tell me again he loved me. He never had the strength to finish the words.

  Someone was calling my name. It wasn't Darren. Confused, I blinked. "Tucker!"

  "Yeah. Come here. My gosh. You're freezing! Do you want me to get my shirt for you?"

  "No!" I cried, the dream still too real. I took three deep breaths and looked down at my trembling hands. I recognized my overreaction with embarrassment, but there was nothing I could do about it. "No," I said, though unable to keep from adding, "don't leave."

  He nodded and pulled me into him. I fought sleep. At least Tucker fell back into deep breathing. Eventually, I lost the battle and closed my eyes as well only to be awoken time and again by different versions of the dream.

  Sometimes it was Darren. Sometimes it was Tucker. Other times, the little girl was my Tabby, and I was the mother, terror-stricken and begging Tucker/Darren to help. I must have started awake a half-dozen times. Mostly, Tucker was oblivious. Thankfully, the times he did stir, he just moved closer and fell back asleep.

  I understood what it meant. I was falling in love with Tucker. And although I thought I was ready, clearly I wasn't. Maybe I never would be. Some scars don't heal. They are so deep and profoundly life altering, they will never heal. It was obvious to me what I needed to do. Although the pain would be hard to bear, it would still be better. Better than losing him as I did Darren.

  I had to tell him goodbye.

  Chapter 30

  Kyle

  I'm not sure what time it was when I woke, the room having that timeless, hotel-murkiness to it. All I know is Sam wasn't there, and when I rolled over, she wasn't on the other side of the bed either. I lifted to my elbows, trying to peer through tired eyes at the fixtures in the room. I tried to tell myself—a girl like her—she was probably fixing herself up in the bathroom. Probably couldn't stand to let anyone see her first thing in the morning. But I knew it even then.

  I swung my legs over the side of the bed and sat, then scrambled around for my underwear. I went to the bathroom door. It was cracked, and the light was on inside. I took a deep breath.

  "Sam?"

  No answer. But it was one of those bathrooms where the fan ran whenever the light was on, so I convinced myself she didn't hear me. I gave the door a gentle nudge.

  "Samantha, honey?"

  The door swung inward. The room was empty. I would have told myself she went for a walk. She was hungry and went for breakfast. She wanted fresh clothes, anything... if there wasn't a note stuck between the mirror and its frame. I stepped over towels, still damp from our joint shower of only hours before, and pulled the little ripped piece of hotel stationary free to read it.

  "Thanks for the box seats. It was fun. Call me if you're ever in town.–S"

  "Damn her."

  Chapter 31

  Tucker

  When I opened my eyes, Dani stood by the window, staring out over the tennis courts. She held the sheer curtain to the side, the heavier one was at her back. I took the opportunity to study her before drawing attention to the fact I was awake. She wore a white tank with various shades of pinks in a sort of floral pattern, and black shorts. Electric-pink shells about the size of a quarter dangled from her lobes and around her neck. Her dark hair set them off even more. Most of the thick, flowing mane was down, except for a fancy kind of twist in the front where she'd pulled it away from her face. The morning light kissed her skin, covering it in dewy light, but her expression was serious.<
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  "Good morning." My voice was rough from sleep. She startled and spun around.

  "Good morning," she returned. Her smile was off. Her hand fingered one of the shells on her neck, and instead of approaching, she stayed on the other side of the room. Had my temptress of the night before suddenly turned shy?

  I lifted to one elbow and watched her, curious about her mood. "How did you sleep?"

  She glanced down. "Umm... good. Good."

  It had been a long time since she woke in the company of a man. Was that why she kept her distance? Was she unsure about how to act? We'd really only known each other for a day or mostly one incredible night. Thinking she might feel more comfortable if I put my clothes on, I tried to make small talk as I searched for my shirt.

  "I'm sorry I slept so late. What time is it?" I spotted the shirt on top of her ripped tank that hung from the side of the other bed and picked it up.

  "Oh. Seven-thirty."

  I stopped mid-motion. "Seven-thirty? How long have you been up?"

  "Uh... for a while, I guess." She pushed her hair back behind her ear, looking anywhere but at me. I quickly finished pulling on and buttoning my shirt.

  "Well." I cleared my throat, suddenly a little unnerved myself. "I sure had a good time last night, at the game and all." I snuck another glimpse at her and caught her pained expression before she turned away.

  "Yes. That was fun."

  It bothered me I couldn't get a read on her when it was the kind of thing I was generally good at. But today it was like trying to figure out a puzzle without having all the pieces. I crossed the room to touch her and decided to ask her right out what was going through that pretty head of hers. She heard my approach and skirted me. She tried to make it seem natural, but I'm not stupid. She began to speak so fast, I forgot my objective of questioning her.

  "Umm... Tucker. I need to meet with my father's lawyer today. They're reading the will, and I have to be there I guess, so... I'm sorry. I don't think I'll be able to spend a lot of time with you today."