by HELEN HARDT
Live a little? She’d spent the night making love to a cover model. She’d had two orgasms, a first for her. Hadn’t she done enough living? For this week, anyway?
“Thanks, but no thanks.”
“But I want to spend the day with you.”
“Then stay here at the conference. That’s where I’ll be.”
“I’ll make it worth your while…” His tone was teasing.
How could he possibly give her more than he already had? “Just exactly how do you plan to do that?”
“Well…” He stalked toward her, loosened her towel, and let it drop to the floor. “I could lavish these remarkable breasts with some more attention.” He cupped them and circled his thumbs over her nipples. “Or I could lick that sweet pussy of yours for a couple of hours. That would be a true pleasure for you and for me.”
“Michael, you’re an incredible lover.” At least he was as far as she knew in her limited experience. “But I’ll be honest with you. Skydiving scares the shit out of me.”
He smirked. “Are you a woman or an amoeba?”
Though embarrassment flooded her that he’d remembered that stupid line, she couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re throwing that back at me?”
He joined in her laughter. “It seemed to fit.”
She shook her head. “Michael, I don’t understand you.”
“What’s not to understand? I just spent the night with a beautiful lady. I’d like to spend the day with her too.”
Could this be more than a one night stand? A two night stand maybe? Or at least a night and a day stand? “But sky diving?”
“Tell you what”—he kissed her ear—“I will personally guarantee your safety. I want to make sure you get back in one piece to all those who care about you.”
Stacy snorted. Who? No one cared about her. “There’s no one to get back to, Michael. You know I’m divorced and I never had kids. Both my parents are dead, and I don’t have any brothers and sisters.”
“Geez, Stace, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. I’m fine with it. But frankly, no one would notice if I was gone.”
He smiled. “I would. In fact, I’ll guarantee you that it will be the best experience of your life.” He bit her lobe. “Excluding last night, of course.”
Tingles skittered over her skin. Why did his touch affect her so?
“Come on, Stace. What is it? Are you afraid of heights?”
“No, it’s nothing like that.” Just afraid of my own shadow. But admittedly, she’d come a long way in the past twenty-four hours. Starr would sky dive. Could Stacy?
“Then live a little.”
She plunked her head on his broad shoulder. “Okay,” she said timidly.
“What was that? Say it again.”
She lifted her head and punched him in the arm. “You heard me. Geez, Michael. I can’t believe I’m going to do this.”
“I promise you’ll love it.” He brushed his lips against hers.
* * *
“I think I’m going to throw up.”
Michael adjusted the hooks on Stacy’s gear. He spoke loudly over the aircraft engine. “You’ll be fine, Stace.”
She tried to soothe her stomach by breathing deeply. The sporadic lunges of the small aircraft weren’t helping her cause. How could practicing jumping out of a plane and studying free fall maneuvers and parachute deployment for only an hour prepare her for this?
“What if the chute doesn’t open?”
“I’ll take care of the chute. You let me worry about that.”
She and Michael would be tandem skydiving, which was the best method, he had explained, for the first jump. Rather than jumping on her own, she’d be harnessed to Michael, her qualified instructor—help!—who would be responsible for safe and timely deployment of the parachute. This method freed Stacy to concentrate on freefall, piloting the canopy, and landing.
Yeah, right.
Like she’d remember anything about piloting a canopy when she was plummeting to the earth at a gazillion miles per hour.
“You’ve secured the extra parachute, right?” she said loudly but timidly.
“Yes, baby. It’s all secure.”
“’Kay.” Her heart slammed into her sternum. Why was she doing this again?
“We’re going to be strapped together, your back to my front. That’s kind of a turn on, don’t you think?” Michael’s low voice carried across the noise.
“Michael, if you wanted to be strapped to me, we don’t have to jump out of a plane to do it.”
His buoyant laugh filled the small aircraft. “I’ll hold you to that. After our jump.” He tightened another buckle. “You’re all secure, Stace. Now, let me just hook us together, okay?”
“No hurry.”
The loud roar of the small aircraft engine buzzed in her ear. Calm down, she told herself. You’re an intelligent woman. You know what to do. And Michael’s an experienced sky diver… Just words. Words that weren’t helping her nerves one bit.
“We’re about ready, Oliver!” Michael yelled to the pilot.
The small plane swerved. Stacy nearly lost her balance, but Michael’s arms steadied her as he fastened the straps of their equipment together.
“We just hit 13,000 feet!” Oliver’s voice rumbled from the cockpit.
“Perfect!” Michael said. “It’s a great day, too. So clear and warm.”
Yeah, just perfect. Perfectly nauseating. Stacy’s stomach churned. “Michael,” she said shakily. “I can’t do this. I just can’t.”
“You’ll be fine, beautiful.”
His breath caressed her neck. And was that his erection? Couldn’t be, not through all their gear.
“I promise you’ll be fine.”
A jolt of turbulence hit the plane, and Stacy’s feet nearly left the floor of the aircraft.
“I promise our ride will be smoother than this,” Michael said. “Ready?”
Stacy squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath. “What if I can’t steer?”
“Don’t worry about that. I’ll steer, okay? You just enjoy yourself. Ready now?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be.”
“Okay, baby.” He edged her to the opening. “Let’s go.”
Once airborne, Stacy couldn’t remember Michael’s exit count or actually leaving the plane. For a moment, she had the feeling of jetting forward as well as down. Michael had told her about that. Physics. It was the momentum created by the plane’s speed. The “forward throw” he had called it. She was surprised she remembered.
He’d also explained that she wouldn’t feel like she was falling, but no words had prepared her for the buoyancy that enveloped her. Was she truly dropping? The ground didn’t seem to be getting any nearer. Free fall is what Michael called this portion of the jump. A rush of adrenalin hit her gut, spiked through her like a massive dose of endorphins. The sensation resembled floating in water, yet was more pure, less dense. Freedom. Total freedom. She was truly flying. Flying in Michael’s arms. The feeling of security surprised her, and she savored it, letting herself take in the beauty of the sky and the earth so far below. Wisps of clouds whirled around her head. The crisp azure of the heavens, so beautiful in their totality.
Too soon, Michael yelled that he was releasing the chute.
Steering. She should be steering. She tensed.
Michael must have sensed her unease, because he shouted, “Just enjoy yourself. I’ve got the canopy!”
So enjoy herself she did.
She’d thought she’d been flying before. No, that had been mere floating. Now, she and Michael jutted forward at what seemed like a ferocious speed. This part of the jump would last about five minutes, Michael had said.
Stacy’s heart soared! Her mind buzzed. Why had she been so scared? Suddenly, she envied birds their wings. If only she could feel this free, this content, always.
God… Her stomach rolled. Now, the ground was approaching. Why hadn’t she noticed how close they were before?
“It’s okay, baby, we’re doing fine,” Michael assured her.
They landed with a jolt. Stacy’s heart dropped to her feet. Michael steadied her, managed to kiss her neck despite all the gear between them. The chute floated around them in a rippling haze.
Quickly, Michael unbuckled them, and Stacy turned and threw her arms around him. Their safety goggles clinked, their straps scraped, but Stacy didn’t care.
So many words clogged her throat. She wanted to tell him what the jump had meant to her, how it had freed a part of her that had been long imprisoned. How it had broken the rest of the shell around her spirit, the shell that he’d already cracked with his wonderful lovemaking and her first orgasm. She wanted to describe the euphoria she’d felt while free falling, the rush of the forward throw. Mostly she wanted to tell him what he had come to mean to her in so short a time.
Those three scary words formed in her mouth.
But no words emerged. Her emotion was too thick, too buoyant for speech.
She simply wrapped herself as close as she could to the man she’d come to adore.
* * *
“You wouldn’t believe it,” Stacy said to Veronica at dinner. Michael and Dino also sat at their table for four. “You’ve got to try it, Ronnie. I swear, you’ll be hooked!”
“Jump out of a plane?” The younger woman shook her head. “No thanks. I like my feet planted firmly on the ground.”
“You’d love it,” Michael said. “If I could convince Stace to go, I can convince anyone.”
“Sure enough,” Dino agreed. “It’s an amazing experience. I’ve only done it once, but it was a feeling I’ll never forget.”
“Well, maybe I’ll let you convince me sometime,” Veronica laughed. “I’m heading to the moonlight erotic readings. Any of you want to come along?”
Dino grinned. “I’m game. You guys in?”
Michael shook his head. “I want to dance.” He stood and held out his hand to Stacy. “May I?”
She smiled. He looked so regal in his tux. All the cover models were dressed formally for tonight’s dinner. They’d been on duty during the meal itself, but now that dessert was over, they were free for the evening. Michael and Dino had gravitated toward Stacy and Veronica.
Dino shared some of Michael’s sultry Italian features, but though Dino was a handsome man, there was no comparison in Stacy’s mind. Michael was the best looking man at the conference and on the planet.
“I’d love to dance, thanks,” she said. “But will you excuse me for a minute? I need to make a phone call.”
“Sure.” He brushed his lips against her cheek. “Don’t be long.”
Stacy left the ballroom, made a quick phone call to her neighbor to check on her cat, and then headed toward the bathroom to check her makeup.
As she walked through the hallway, Veronica’s voice rang out from one of the workshop rooms. Not one to eavesdrop, Stacy kept walking but stopped when she heard her name.
“…do that to Stacy.”
Do what to Stacy? Stacy stood near enough to hear as best she could through the semi-open door but far enough against the wall of the hallway so as not to be seen.
“His plan…” Dino’s words trailed off.
What plan. Was he talking about Michael? For a moment she wished for one of those ear phone things on late night television that allowed a person to overhear conversations.
“That’s horrible!”
Veronica’s shrill outrage was easy to hear.
“I’m not saying I agree,” Dino said. Then, unintelligible mumblings.
“Sugar mama?” Veronica again. “He did not use that term!”
“He did. He knows his career…. He wants to….the way he’s been living.”
Stacy tried furiously to decipher Dino’s meaning, until Veronica’s voice carried right outside into the hallway.
“Stacy doesn’t have any money!”
“Bestselling author… Grandmother….”
Stacy’s heart dropped to her belly. Money? Michael thought she had money? She made a decent living, but she was hardly rolling in it. She was a best-selling author, yes. A best-selling erotic e-book author. Hardly the bigtime. She was lucky enough not to work a day job, but wealthy she was not. She lived in a two bedroom townhome with her cat. She had a car payment and a mortgage and some months, when royalties were low, she ate a lot of hamburger and ramen noodles.
Had Michael been playing her? The sky diving, the lovemaking—had it all been a ploy to ingratiate himself to her so she’d take care of him? He wanted to be her “kept man?”
“Well, I’m not going to let him do that to Stacy.”
Veronica stormed out of the room, her full lips in a taut line.
“Ronnie, wait! You can’t tell him I told you—”
Dino ran out the door after her. They both stopped short when they saw Stacy.
“Oh, Stace. Oh, God,” Veronica said.
“You don’t have to tell him anything, Ronnie,” Stacy said. “I’ve heard enough already, and I’ll tell him myself.”
Emotion stormed through Stacy as she ran to the elevator and hit fifteen. No! No, damn it! Why did this have to happen? God, she’d let herself fall in love with the bastard!
Tears streamed down her cheeks. Was she sad? Angry? So many different feelings gripped her insides, surged through her veins. Finally, when the elevator dinged her arrival, one sensation stood out among the others.
Betrayal.
Though the bed had been made and no longer showed the remnants of their lovemaking, Michael’s suitcase sat at the edge of the wardrobe. Her own fault, of course. After their amazing afternoon, she’d invited him to move into her room for the remainder of the conference.
Well, he could now consider himself uninvited.
Not satisfied to merely push the suitcase out into the hallway, she opened it. Inside sat his underwear, his sundries, his shirts and jeans. One by one, she pulled them out and tossed them into the hallway as she sobbed incoherently.
“How could you, you fucking asshole?”
Boxer briefs, jeans, tight T-shirts littered the hallway. In the bottom of his suitcase was a cobalt bottle of vodka. “Yeah. I suppose you thought you’d get me drunk. Well, I’d have to be drunk to sleep with you again.” She threw the bottle into the hallway where it smashed into icy blue shards against the wall.
Last, she threw the empty suitcase into the hallway amidst the designer clothes, the expensive cologne, the razor, the toothpaste and toothbrush…
She slammed her door shut, flung herself on her bed, and wept some more.
Chapter Seven
Oh shit.
Clearly, this wasn’t leading to anything good. Michael shuffled through his belongings cluttering the hallway outside Stacy’s room. He should call housekeeping to clear away the glass from the broken bottle of vodka, but first, he needed to see Stacy and make sure she was all right. His skin tightened. Fuck. He was actually nervous.
What had gone wrong? Thank God she’d given him her extra keycard. He slid it into the lock and opened the door.
Darkness flooded the room. He switched on the light. Stacy was on the bed lying on her back, still in her scarlet formal gown, one arm flung over her eyes.
His heart thumped. “Stace?”
“Go away, Michael,” she said without moving.
“Are you okay? Why are my things in the hallway?”
She snorted. “As if you don’t know.”
“I don’t know, Stace. What’s going on?”
“Get out.”
“Not until you tell me you’re okay.”
“I’m fine. Now, get out.”
He inched toward the bed. “Please, baby. Tell me what’s wrong.”
“Ask Dino and Ronnie. They’ll tell you.”
“I haven’t seen Dino and Ronnie. You didn’t come back for our dance, and I started to get worried. So I went looking for you.”
“Too bad you didn’t find Dino and Ronnie.
”
“I don’t give a flying fuck about Dino and Ronnie right now, damn it! I only care about you!”
She scoffed. “Right.”
His heart burst with sensation he couldn’t describe. Worry. Intense longing. Sadness. What the hell was happening to him?
“Stace…”
“Get out, Michael.”
“Won’t you talk to me? Come on. You owe me that much.”
She sat upright, her big baby browns afire. “Owe you? I don’t owe you a goddamned thing, Michael Moretti. If there’s one thing I’m certain of, it’s that.”
“But we shared—“
“We shared a fuck, Michael. A fuck. I knew what it was from the beginning. Don’t think I didn’t. I knew you didn’t want me for me. I’m not an idiot, for God’s sake.”
“I did want you. I swear—”
“Shut up! Just shut the fuck up. I can’t stand to listen to any more of your lies.”
“Lies? I never lied to you, Stacy. I swear.”
“God, you sling such bullshit. Do you ever listen to yourself?”
“I—”
“Too bad you didn’t run into Dino and Ronnie. They’d have clued you in. Let’s just say I stumbled into a very interesting conversation between your roomie and his current squeeze—and Ronnie deserves better, by the way.”
Oh, God. Michael’s insides squirmed. He had a feeling he knew where this was going. He’d told Dino… Oh fuck.
Why did it matter? Women like Stacy were a dime a dozen, right? One rich older woman would give way to another, and then another, all too happy to pay for the privilege of his companionship.
Right?
Isn’t that how it was supposed to work?
So why did it matter? So he’d invested twenty-four hours in Stacy Summers. Sure, she was easy on the eyes. Very easy. Damned good in bed too. But there were others just as easy on the eyes, just as good in bed, probably some with more money even. Chalk it up to experience and take the loss. Try again tomorrow. Tomorrow’s another day and all that.
But Stacy… Fuck. He liked her. He really liked her. Liked fucking her. Liked sky diving with her. Hell, he liked talking to her. Who’d have thought?