Bad For Each Other

by Kate Hathaway

  "Yeah, I kinda figured." He sighed, feeling the tension ease from him.

  "You think she went to someone?" They stood side by side, staring out at nothing.

  "I can't believe she didn't."

  "Cleeve?"

  "He says no." From the corner of his eye Charlie saw his father tip his head back, reach up, and set one of the pots of impatiens in motion.

  "Did you ask her?"

  "Couple times. Thinking back on what she said, I'm convinced I never got a straight answer."

  "Why don't you let it rest?"

  "I lost seven years with him, Dad. Eight with Molly. I'd just like to know what happened."

  The old man was silent for a long while, watching the pot until it stilled. Finally he spoke. "I think what happened is as plain as the nose on your face. If you don't see it, it's because you don't want to see it." He turned to go inside, hands in his back pockets. "I'm going to go spend some time with my wife. Maybe you ought to do the same."

  Chapter 11

  Charlie climbed the stairs to the second floor in darkness. She hadn't even left a light on for him, he thought, trying to swallow his disappointment. He came to the door of Tobie's room and went in.

  There was a night-light on in here. Maybe that was the glimmer he'd seen from the outside, although this didn't seem like the right spot. He still wasn't real straight on the room arrangement in the old place.

  He approached the bed quietly. His son was as restless a sleeper as he was, and he didn't want to wake him. The Stetson rested on the pillow alongside the boy. It looked a little the worse for wear, as if it had been rolled on a few times. Charlie reached to move it and then thought better of it. This wasn't just a hat. It was his presence, his constancy, in his child's life. He kissed Tobie gently and left the hat where it lay.

  Moments later he turned the knob to the big room he would share with Molly. The room was deeply shadowed, but pale light slanted into it from the open bathroom door. That must have been what he'd seen outside.

  The bed was unmade, but empty.

  He'd been in here earlier in the day and was familiar enough with Molly's furniture rearrangement to keep from bumping into things. He crossed to the fireplace and gripped the mantel while he eased his boots off with the bootjack she'd had installed on the hearth. That was a nice touch, he thought as he peeled off his socks. Made him feel welcome.

  "Charlie?"

  He thought he'd made enough noise moving around the room to let her know he'd come in. Molly really was kind of a modest young woman. They hadn't been in the habit of busting in unawares on each other when they'd lived together summers and breaks. The last thing he wanted to do was turn her skittish now.

  "Yeah, I'm here."

  She didn't answer. He laid his hat on the chest and noticed her dress draped over the chair next to it, sequins glittering like stars in the faint light. He moved closer and saw her panty hose strewn there, too. And her bra, such as it was. He fingered the silky wisp, wondering where his Molly had ever gotten the nerve to buy such a thing.

  He could hear the trickle of running water coming from the bathroom. She'd had plenty of time to shut that door if she'd a mind to. Pulling his T-shirt from the waistband of his jeans, he strolled over and leaned against the jamb.

  She was shaving her legs. Such a mundane description for such a mind-blowing scene, some rational portion of his brain registered as his eyes took in the sight.

  She seemed to take no notice of his presence. Just continued about her business. She was sitting on the closed lid of the commode, one lovely, slender leg stretched out, her foot resting on the rim of the tub. He watched her rinse her razor under the thin stream she'd left running in the sink. Then she took a long, curving sweep through the foam on her leg and his mouth went dry.

  He had a thoroughly unencumbered view of her legs because she was wearing that teddy. It pulled taut across her breasts as she leaned to rinse the razor again and he felt his jeans pull a little more taut. The circle of lace around her thigh seemed to rise almost to her waist when she extended her arm down her leg to take another sweep. He might not be comfortable discussing French cut with a saleslady, but he could surely appreciate the effect.

  She was wearing her hair the way he liked it best. Piled precariously up on top of her head, looking like one good tug in just the right place would send the whole mass tumbling. It shimmered in the dim light from the chandelier.

  Dim light, Charlie thought, glancing up at that chandelier and then at the wall switch that adjusted its intensity. This wasn't serious leg-shaving light. At one o'clock in the morning, he'd venture to guess, this wasn't serious leg-shaving at all.

  He cleared his throat, not sure it was in working order. "Can you see well enough to do that in this light?"

  She favored him with a look, finally, turning those witchy eyes that glowed like warmed brandy on him. "I do it mostly by feel anyway."

  Oh, my. That's all he needed to hear. This had all the hallmarks of a seduction. Well, hell, he'd play along.

  Quickly he stripped off his shirt and tossed it on the chair with Molly's dress. Returning to the bathroom he sank to the floor in front of her, sitting back on his heels, knees spread. He took her ankle in one hand and her razor in the other. She did have a blade in the thing, he noticed. This wasn't entirely for show.

  "Let me help you with this." He lifted her leg a little and she gripped the seat with both hands to keep from tipping off.

  "You don't need to—"

  "It's no trouble at all. I like to feel you."

  "Charlie..."

  At her mention of his name he took her other foot and placed it very deliberately in his lap, against his crotch, where the arch of her foot accommodated him nicely. "There are some places on a woman's leg," he said, taking up the razor again, "here, for instance—" he touched behind her ankle "—and here—" he dipped the razor into the concave spot behind her knee "—that are hard to reach. We don't want any nicks."

  He rinsed the blade under the tap—warm water, smart girl—and edged a little higher up her thigh, raising her leg a tad more to do so. She pressed her other foot to him for counterbalance, her eyes widening at its effect on him.

  "It really doesn't look like you need to do this, Molly," he said, gratified to see her blush and catch her bottom lip between her teeth. He set the razor on the sink, turned off the faucet, and put his tongue to a spot of foam on the inside of her thigh just above her knee.

  She slid down a little on the seat, holding on for dear life. "I don't think that's good for you, Charlie," poured out all on one rush of breath. Her eyes widened even more at the response under her foot when she said his name. "That really does hap—"

  "I did warn you."

  "Well, if that happens whenever somebody says your name, it must be a serious problem for you."

  He gave her his lopsided grin. "Not really. There's not another person in the world who calls me 'Charlie.'" That was true. He'd been "Charlie" to her ever since he'd given her the option. It had always been special between them. "'Kick' doesn't have the same effect."

  He slid his hand up the inside of her thigh to that sweet juncture. "How high do you shave, honey?"

  She inhaled sharply and clamped her legs together, but not before his fingers had insinuated themselves between the snaps of the teddy and found another barrier.

  He blinked in surprise. "Are you wearing panties under that teddy, Moll?"

  "Charlie!" She gripped his wrist with both hands, blushing fiercely.

  "You are!" he said with a laugh. "You're one cautious woman. I thought this was a seduction." He regretted the words as soon as they were out. Her gaze skittered away and a disconcerted look crossed her face. "I'm not very good at this, Charlie."

  He moved his hands to settle one on each of her thighs, caressing gently. "Aw, honey, if you were any better at this, my heart would stop. My pleasure's a given. Don't you know that? It's your pleasure we're concerned with tonight."


  He looked at her uncertain expression a moment more, then rose, went to the end of the tub and turned on the tap. She watched him check the water temperature and adjust it.

  "What are you doing?" she asked.

  "I'm having a bath." He threw her a quick glance. "You're welcome to join me, if you'd like. I'll help you get the rest of that foamy stuff off your legs."

  She pulled in a breath and licked her lips. "I can just use a towel."

  He shrugged. "Suit yourself." Then he gave her a long look over his bare shoulder. "Chicken."

  He turned his attention back to filling the tub. Watching him reach for the stopper hanging on a chain to plug the drain, she was torn between warring feelings of eagerness and timidity.

  They'd been lovers in the past, but there were some things they hadn't done. And this was one of them.

  Though they'd lived together for months at a time, there were lines of intimacy they'd never crossed. Maybe in some perverse way, because they'd been friends for so long before they'd been lovers, it had been more difficult for them. They'd been more conscious and considerate of each other's privacy. Charlie had wrestled with his desire for her for so long, perhaps it had been hard to give it free rein. Then, too, they'd both been very young. They'd both, she now knew, been inexperienced.

  For whatever reasons they hadn't been in the habit of parading themselves in front of each other. And certain touches were, by silent, mutual agreement, reserved for the bedroom. She'd seen him naked and she'd seen him aroused. In bed. And even those poker games, when she'd been a little giddy with wine and he'd coaxed her, had ended up in bed.

  If he'd wanted more, if he'd found their relationship lacking, he'd never pushed. And if this proved beyond her, she knew, despite his taunt he wouldn't push now.

  But she found that this was a threshold she wanted to cross. She wanted to experience what his eyes and his touch promised. When he finished what he was doing and rose to come back to her, she stood to face him.

  He put his hands on her shoulders, slipping his fingers under the straps of the teddy. "Do you want to do this, Molly, or wait for me in bed?"

  She raised her face and whispered against his neck, "I want to do this."

  He seemed to relax and let go the breath he was holding. He hooked a finger under each strap and guided them down her arms. She helped when the teddy got caught up on her breasts, and in moments it was lying in a pool at their feet.

  He brought her arms up and linked them around his neck. The movement caused the tips of her breasts to brush against his chest. She felt herself go weak at the sensation.

  "I take back what I said about the panties," he breathed near her ear, just a little unevenly. "Very seductive." He slid his thumbs along the stretchy lace strips that rode high on each hip and were all that joined the meager triangles of fabric front and back. "They match the bra, don't they?"

  Her answer was a nod that jiggled her breasts against him. They both gasped.

  "Did you buy these for yourself, Moll?" He couldn't picture that.

  She hesitated a moment. "I ordered them from a catalog."

  "Ah." That sounded like his Molly. "You're no more comfortable in those stores than I am." He took a nibble of her neck. "You'll have to show me this catalog. I'll order you one of everything in it—" his tongue traced the curve of her ear "—just for the pleasure of taking it off you."

  His hand moved to the triangle in front, his finger sliding over her where she was moist and he knew it. "Will you let me take these off you?"

  She closed her eyes a moment seeking courage, then leaned back a little and looked up at him. "I'm not going to take a bath with them on."

  "Sass," he whispered, his eyes glittering, and he kissed her. Just a slow slide of his tongue into her mouth and out again. He went down on his knees to remove her panties, stopping for a delicate lick to the tip of each breast on the way. He skimmed the panties off quickly and kissed each thigh, then pressed his mouth to the red curls he'd uncovered, so casually his foray there seemed almost unintentional. But Charlie never did anything unintentionally.

  She was quivering in his arms when he rose to his feet again. He pulled her snug against him to steady her. Burying his nose in the soft tendrils behind her ear, he murmured. "Tell me something, Molly. I want to know. Have you ever come?"

  She stiffened with a jerk and he stroked his hands over her back to soothe her. "I know that's vulgar, honey," he whispered. "I'm sorry. I don't know any other words for it. Have you?"

  She stared straight at the vee where his collarbones met. "Sure, I think so."

  He closed his eyes. This was bad.

  "It was..." she went on, struggling for words.

  He put a single finger to her lips. "Do me a favor. Don't tell me it was nice."

  She clamped her lips together and slid a glance up at him. That's what she was going to say, all right. He expelled a heavy breath. "Honey, first of all, there's no thinkin' about it. It's like falling off a cliff. If you don't know, you didn't."

  She frowned at his throat. "I don't remember any cliff."

  "That's what I thought." He sighed. "I don't know if you can tell, but I'm strung about as tight as I can get here. This is never gonna work unless you let me take care of you first."

  "Charlie—"

  "Another thing. It'd help a lot if you'd just call me Dwayne."

  She laughed out loud then, breaking the tension somewhat.

  "This isn't all your fault," she said when she could, "that I've never..."

  "Aw, gee. You've had another lover?"

  She looked up into his eyes, her own softening, and laid caressing fingers on the back of his neck. "No."

  He dropped tiny kisses over her face as he spoke. "Honey, this isn't a problem, or something wrong. This is just something you've never experienced. A gift I want to give you." She rested her head against his chest and brought a hand down to stroke him there. He had to grab quick to keep it away from his nipple. "I'll never last if we try to...you know...together. Let me show you first."

  She mulled that over some moments, chewing on her upper lip. "Char—" She cleared her throat. "Maybe I'm just not very...responsive. Some women aren't."

  He looked down at her, a serious expression on his face. Then he tilted her back from him just a little. With one knuckle he circled the areola of her nipple while both of them watched its center tighten up, stiff as a gumdrop. "Somehow, honey, I don't think that's the case here." He wrapped his arms tightly about her, holding her close, where he could feel her breasts move against him with every breath she took. "Now, I don't expect you'll go head-bangin' nuts the way I do, but a little toe-curlin' nuts might be fun to see."

  She tipped her head back, staring up at him, eyes enormous. "Are you going to watch?"

  He hadn't anticipated this being a problem. "I thought I might. That's a big part of the fun...watching." Her indecision was palpable. "I won't if you tell me no."

  She came to a decision, sort of. "I'll make up my mind at the time."

  It was his turn to laugh. "You won't be able to make up your mind at the time, I promise you." He glanced back at the tub. "The water's getting cold."

  "So am I." She managed a flirty, if tremulous, smile. "Standing here with nothing on." She prodded his chest gently. "You're overdressed."

  It was his hands that decided her, finally. The hands that went to his belt buckle, and undid it, and shoved his jeans down his legs. The same hands that had gripped her bicycle seat to steady her when she would have careened out of control. The same hands that had pushed her bottom up and supported her so she could grasp that tree limb just out of her reach. The same hands that had broken Jimmy Jordan's nose for her when he'd spread that nasty story after she'd stopped seeing him. She'd chastised Charlie for being such a barbarian, but she'd been secretly pleased.

  She would take from his hands the pleasure he wanted to give her. She would entrust her life to them. It was so much more difficult to entrust her heart.


  He stood before her now clad only in his briefs, which did nothing to disguise his desire for her. She stepped up to him and tucked her fingers into the waistband, stretching it out and over his erection. In just a moment he was as naked as she. "You never used to wear black underwear," she said.

  "I'll wear white if you want. I'll go without if you want. You tell me what you want and I'll do it."

  "I want to take a bath with you."

  He held her hand to steady her as she stepped over the high edge of the tub and he followed. "Uh-uh," he said when she would have seated herself at the opposite end facing him. "You won't be comfortable over there with the faucet and knobs."

  He grinned as her eyes pointedly perused his ready body. "I'm not saying you wont get poked, just that you'll like it better."

  He settled himself in the water, then eased her down in front of him.

  "Oooh! It's very warm," she murmured.

  "Too warm?" he asked, and she shook her head. "I made it hot. I didn't know how long it would take me to talk you into this." He watched a fine sheen of perspiration cover her face and the silky tendrils around her forehead curl from the heat and humidity. She kept her back straight when he guided her to lie against his chest. The heat-induced lethargy hadn't invaded her body yet. But it would.

  He'd estimated the water level pretty well. It just lapped over the crests of her breasts. She'd feel caresses there even when his hands were occupied elsewhere.

  True to his word, he slid his hands along her legs, rubbing off the last traces of the shaving foam. Relaxing a little from his ministrations, she leaned her head back into the curve of his shoulder. His fingers searched the coil of her hair, finding the pin that held the whole mass in place and releasing it. The fiery cascade tumbled over his shoulder and the back rim of the tub.

  "You're gonna have to keep your head right there now, honey, or you'll get your hair all wet."

  "You planned it that way, didn't you?" she whispered with a catnip smile, her eyes closed, head lolling. She was loosening up nicely.

  He wasn't.

  He shifted a little, trying to make room for himself where he was wedged tight between her body and his.