by Karin, Anya
That got Lys grinning.
"I know," she said. "He kissed my hand! I've never had anyone do that. Bret did it once, but it was kinda weird, and it was at a masquerade ball. This just...happened. And it seemed like he meant it, you think? I'm not just being a dumb girl am I?"
"No, not at all." Ryan put a hand on his daughter's shoulder and gave her a squeeze.
"Okay, whooo," she whistled and finally settled down enough to sit. "I think my blood pressure is coming back to something resembling normal." She looked over at her dad, found him smiling, and couldn't help but crack a grin herself.
A minute later, if even that, she stood up again and started hopping in place.
"Okay, nope, never mind. I still feel like an ant on a sugar high. I'm gonna go take a bath and try and figure out some way to calm myself down." Her feet pounded heavy, and Ryan listened to them go up the stairs, turn left to the bedroom, then right, into the bathroom.
"Oh boy. To be young again." He spotted the letter he was just about to open when Gadsen Cartwright called and hijacked the rest of the day.
"Right, the bank. Wonder what they want this time."
He slid his finger along the seal and pulled out the paper. His heart sank as he scanned the single page note.
"Behind on the house? That isn't possible. I never fell behind, not even when I barely had nickels to rub." As he read further, his heart drooped almost to his knees. "When did the rate change? Oh my God, how did I forget about this?"
When he got the job with Webb, he went back to the bank and renegotiated the loan, thinking he'd be able to pay it off sooner and with a lower rate, and then promptly forgot about what he'd done. Now, as the letter said, he'd accrued a little over four grand in back payments, and if he didn't make it soon – within a month from receiving the letter – the house was theirs.
A quick check of his bank account, and his heart hit the floor. There was enough to make a dent in what he owed, but without some kind of windfall, the numbers just didn't match up.
"I guess I could ask Mr. Webb for a loan, I'm sure he'd give me one. No, I can't do that. I just can't do it. Wait a minute. What about those mushrooms? Alyssa's got a thing for collecting them. And it...no, I won't expect my daughter to help me with money. I'm the one that messed it up in the first place. I can't lay my problems on her feet."
He looked back at the letter.
"One month. In one month, I lose the house. I lose everything."
He clicked through a few things, grabbed a pencil and did a couple of quick figures. If he could squeeze another week out of the bank, he'd be able to get all but about six hundred bucks by the time the repo man came calling.
"Six hundred bucks. Man," he said. "What a way to lose it all. Less than a thousand bucks."
Upstairs, either Alyssa, or the bathtub pipe, was whistling.
"You should probably just swallow your pride and ask her for help," he said. "She keeps saying to stop being too proud to ask for help. Maybe it's time to listen."
By the time the shower was warmed up, Alyssa was almost calm. The old potpourri she had on the plug-in by the sink was just strong enough to give the room a little hint of a smell, which she usually preferred to strong, bracing aromas from anything.
"He kissed my hand," she said. "Preston Webb kissed my hand."
Beads of water bounced off her chest, ran down between her breasts in warm trickles. As it dropped down her legs, and between them, it warmed her there, too.
"Oh," she gasped when she stepped backwards, and a jet hit her low on the belly. "Oh mmm...maybe this shower was the best idea I've had in a long time. Or maybe..."
She bent down, hair drooping in her face and sticking to her skin, and opened the valve on the faucet. Almost immediately, the pouring water pooled around her feet, and before she could get the stopper in the tub, the steam from the bath almost seduced her into sinking beneath the surface.
Then she had another idea. Stepping out and shaking droplets off her legs, Alyssa rooted around in the cabinet until she found an old jug of bubble bath. "Rose scented, sensitive skin," she read. "Good to know."
A moment later, mountains of suds surrounded her as she sat down, closed her eyes, and slid beneath the water. Surrounded by the comfortable, caressing heat, she almost wanted to stay there, unmoving, forever and ever. When she popped back up and took a deep breath through her nose and her mouth, the scent of roses overwhelmed the weak potpourri and filled her senses.
"Oh God, that smells good," she moaned, going under one more time. "I needed this really bad."
She ran her hands down her sides into a stretch, and then back up, through her hair, and into the air.
"How could anything feel this good?" She took another deep suck of air, held the wet heat in her lungs for a moment, and exhaled with a long, trickling, slow breath that had a sigh tacked onto the end. "Well, unless Preston was here with me, anyway."
She made herself blush, which then made her laugh. She dismissed it as a way of her mind dealing with the craziness of a man in shadows, not willing to be seen, talking to her through a door and then grabbing her hand.
"Or, maybe," she let out a low groan, "maybe this is more what I need." Down her body her hand slid, lingering under the water just below her belly button. She felt a flush on her cheeks, hot and prickly, and then lifted her foot out of the water and closed the faucet.
In the silence, every drip, every tiny movement she made that sent a ripple along her body, caressed her ears. Every sound comforted her senses just like the soft velvet of Preston's voice. Further down her hand went, almost without her thinking about it, and slid over the little tuft of hair there at the top of her cleft.
Alyssa closed her eyes and imagined the man in the black suit with his slender frame and long, tall body, stepping over the edge of a hot tub, one foot on either side. Without his clothes, he was delicious, and firm and defined. In her mind, his ankles brushed gently against her as he settled down with his head in the crook of her neck, kissing her behind the ear. Nuzzling, and then kissing again. His breath prickled the skin of her neck and made goose bumps crawl down her body as his fingers moved softly over the swell of her breast.
"Mmm," she moaned in a whisper. "Oh, Preston, it feels good what you're doing. So good. So, so good."
His lips were soft and smooth like his voice. His fingers were gentle, but strong and hard wherever they squeezed. And, oh, did he ever squeeze. Around one of her sweetly aching nipples, his fingers curled, and his tongue moved slow and fat across the tip. She let out a whimper, then another soft, delicate moan when his other hand stroked her cheek and he lifted his lips from her to kiss her throat then go back to where he gave her such wonderful, naughty pleasure.
On her sides, Preston's fingers squeezed different places up and down between her hips and her shoulders as he kissed, sucked, and even gave her little nibbles every now and then. Opening her eyes in the dim light with the scents and warmth surrounding her, Alyssa stretched out her foot and grabbed the shower head's tube between her toes, gripped in and pulled it off the wall, giggling as it dropped in the water and splashed.
Alyssa's moans drowned out the chop-chop-chop of water on water as the showerhead began to pulse in her hand. Moving it up and down her body in a pattern matching her fantasy Preston's hands, the thumping, pounding, driving jets of water massaged her flesh, pushed against her muscles and made her take a breath.
When the water beat against her thighs, from the knee to her hip, her legs first relaxed and then tightened in a strange, but wonderful pattern of in and out, tight and loose, hot and cold.
Putting one foot up on the cold shower tile, her toes curled up and she sucked her bottom lip between her teeth, chewing and tugging, trying as best she could not to scream out and alert the entire world to what she was doing.
"Oh yes, yes, yes, Preston, yes," Alyssa groaned under her breath, smiling as she did, and moving the shower head briefly between her legs. A pulse there sent a chill all
the way up her back. At the base of her scalp, a chilly pleasure forced her mouth open and she grabbed one of her swollen, stiff nipples between thumb and forefinger, pulling gently, pinching, just like she imagined Preston, on top of her, was doing.
As Lys pinched with her wet fingers, she did it harder, and harder, imagining that her fingers were Preston's lips, his tongue, flickering across her body and thrilling her more and more with each passing moment. She took another breath and held it in her chest. Her eyes, half opened, almost visualized her man in black, only without so much black, and with a lot more bare skin, scraping his teeth from her neck to her stiff, pink nibs, like she always wanted someone to do, but never had the courage to ask.
Then, when she sucked another breath through her nose, inhaling the vague rose scent in the air, she remembered that when he yanked her hand through the door and kissed it, Preston Webb had the same smell – a tiny, almost-but-not-quite-there bit of rose to him.
"Was that real?" She asked under her breath as her fingers slid somewhere they rarely went. "Did all that really happen, or was I just dreaming it?"
In her mind, the tall, slender, gentle man who had seduced her with nothing more than his voice and his shadow, kissed her belly button, and then...
The pulsing, driving, massaging water beating against her skin send another wave of pleasure through Lys's body. Everywhere the rippling, raw, wonderful pleasure crept, goose bumps followed and then right afterwards, a prickly red flush arose.
Slipping inside her folds, hooking deep, her fingers drove pleasure inside her and pulled the breath from her lips at the same time. Alyssa squirmed around and pinned the shower between her legs, the jets hitting her just where she wanted. Just where she needed.
"Oh!"
"Oh, yes!" She felt herself grip her fingers. Preston pushed her knees apart and kissed her once, then again as her body began to flutter. Breath, coming harder and faster, filled her lungs then pushed out a gasp as she drove her fingers deeper, twisted and dragged them along her front, lingering where on a little place that made every inch of her body tingle.
With a gasp and a clench of her sex on her fingers, Alyssa groaned and bent her knees, sinking down in the water so that it came up around her chin.
Her lips parted, her eyes relaxed halfway open, and as the water caressed her just where she imagined Preston was touching, the warmth of the bath enveloped Alyssa, held her in its grasp, and refused to let her go, or breathe, or see, or smell, until every last muscle squeeze had relaxed, until every last heated, long-held breath escaped, and every inch of her being flared to life and then calmed in release.
"Mmm," she smiled, sitting up and squeezing the water out of her hair. "My, my, Preston Webb, you are quite the gentleman, aren't you?"
Sinking back beneath the water for a moment, Alyssa's knees wobbled a little bit when she decided to stand up to dry off.
She couldn't help but smirk.
"Well, well, Lys," she said as she looked in the mirror. The only light in the room was the faint, dying flickers of a nightlight that had been plugged into the same socket since Jake and Lori were born. The gentle orange glow, her heart returning to normal, her pulse slowing, Alyssa took a long deep breath and stretched.
Chapter Eleven
Alyssa was still glowing when it came time for coffee the next morning. Completely beside herself with excitement, she hopped down the stairs so quickly that she almost fell.
When she got to the bottom, she found her dad seated on the couch. Even though he very quickly brightened up, there was a faint darkness behind his eyes.
"Hey there, want some coffee? I'll make some."
No coffee ready? That's not normal.
"Only if you're making some anyway," she answered. "I don't want you going to trouble on my account."
"Yeah, I was about to get up and make some. Didn't sleep so well last night, you know how it is sometimes."
"Of course," Alyssa crossed the room and patted his shoulder. "Actually let me make it, I'm already up. Want your paper?"
"Thanks. I mean it, Alyssa." She looked back to see her dad scratching his morning beard.
"What's wrong, daddy? So far you've done about five things you never do."
"I...what?"
"You always make coffee first thing in the morning, you never come downstairs without shaving, you never leave the newspaper outside and you never call me Alyssa unless either something is wrong, or I shoplifted sixteen quarter candies from the pharmacy."
"Oh, well, yeah. I guess there's not much reason to pretend nothing's wrong. I promised I'd be honest with you, right?"
"Damn right you did. Let me start the coffee." She opened the door and tossed him the newspaper, which he caught right before it hit his chest. "You look like you've been up all night."
"Well, that's because I have. You make coffee, I'll open this and we'll talk when you get back."
Minutes later and very thankful for the quick single-cup machine she brought home with her from school, Alyssa returned with two very nice, very hot mugs.
"Alright. Lay it out," she said. "No punches are to be pulled. Okay?"
"I won't. I'm nervous as hell, Lyssie. I don't know what I'm going to do."
"Start by telling me what's up, then we can figure how to work it out. There's always a way to work things out. Is it money?"
After a long silence, he nodded. "Yeah. It's money."
"I thought you were doing okay since you got that thing with Preston going and the other couple little part-time jobs. Is it medical bills or something? Just don't pay them."
"No," he chuckled, "and even if it was, I'd pay them. The short version is that when Mr. Webb started paying me so much, I went straight to the bank and reworked my mortgage."
"Oh God," she said.
"Yeah. It's completely my fault. I went to the bank, refinanced for a shorter loan at a lower rate, and then promptly forgot about it. I can't believe I did something this utterly boneheaded. You know, through my entire life, I missed exactly one bill payment, ever, and that was when I was off in Vietnam. I forgot to pay off my Sears Roebuck card before I shipped out. Stupid, but good God did I ever feel bad about that."
"Okay, well, what's the damage?"
"The damage? I could lose the house."
"No, sorry, I know that. I mean what do you have to pay and when does it have to be paid? Certainly they gave you some kind of a repayment period."
"Yeah, but not exactly a generous one." He reached back behind the recliner to the table and wrapped his fingers around a rumpling pile of papers. "Here, I was working numbers last night."
She took the pile of pencil covered and wrinkly papers that had been erased so hard in places that there were torn spots.
"What am I looking at? Six thousand? Is that what you owe?"
"Yeah, I that's the amount I am behind. But, it's not as bad as it sounds."
"That sounds pretty bad."
"I know, but if you look, scraping pennies, my expenses are...right there. Aside from the mortgage, not very much. I figure if I really scrimp, I can come up with fifty-four hundred by the day the want the money. And, if I pawn the car, I'll be able to pay the difference."
"You're not pawning your car."
"I don't know what else to do. I can't ask you to go get a job to help pay for a mistake that wasn't yours."
"You most certainly could. I'd do anything for you, just like I said when I got here. But the problem with that is I doubt I could find one in town that would pay much of anything, especially on such short notice."
"Yeah," he said as he rubbed his temples. "I did have a thought, though."
"Wait a minute," Alyssa said. "I just had a brilliant idea. And it should probably work. You remember when I gathered the mushrooms? Its morel season right now, and also oyster, I think. If I go and sneak into the Webb place, just like old times, there's no reason I couldn't manage to gather six hundred bucks worth of fungus in a couple of weeks. With a whole month, or most
of one, there's no doubt in my mind I can make that much."
In the back of her mind, Alyssa wanted to say 'and it would also get me one step closer to Preston' but she chose to bite her tongue.
"Are you sure? I don't want you to do anything that makes you uncomfortable. Really, Lyssie, I mean it. I don't want you fixing my mistakes."
"How many jams, exactly, did you get me out of when I was a dumb kid? And then a dumb teenager, and then a dumb college student? And where do I live right this minute? I'm not bailing you out of anything. I'm helping you. Just like I want. If there's something I can do, I want to do it. Okay?"
"What did I do to deserve a girl like you? I'm sure I wasn't this good of a parent." Ryan clenched his eyes shut tight, then opened them and rubbed. "Thank you. I mean it."
"Say, remember how I thought Preston Webb Sr. was a hobo who taught me about mushrooms when I was a kid?"
Her dad took a drink of his coffee and licked a trace of it off his top lip. "Yeah, of course, that was one of the funniest things ever. Why?"
"Preston thought the same thing. When I told him about it, he almost fell over laughing so hard."
"I can see why," her dad chuckled. "But Webb used to show up in town every so often in the same strange get-up. The safari clothes and all that. I figured you were just pretending he was some crazy hobo, just like you and Libby spent all that time coming up with stories about Preston being a Dracula."
"Vampire."
"What?"
"A vampire, daddy," she laughed. "Dracula is proper name, he is a vampire. That's what we thought Preston was."
"Oh, yes, well excuse me. I've been up for a while. Speaking of that, I think I'm gonna go knock off. See if I can get some sleep. I know I keep saying this, Lyssie, but I really appreciate what you're doing. There's no way I could do this without you."
"Don't mention it. Really. I want to help. That's why I'm here. I'll make my first run tomorrow morning, first thing. Well, second, I guess after I drop off the kids. I'm actually kind of looking forward to it. I miss those little guys."