* * * *
It was fully dark by the time that Cathy got home. When she let herself into the apartment, Vicky looked up from the magazine that she was reading. Vicky didn’t move from comfortably reclining on the sofa, but she cocked an eyebrow. “I thought you said you wouldn’t be back until late tonight.”
Cathy slowly smiled, remembering the nice evening. Warmth suffused her body. “I was wrong. We just went to dinner and then for a walk on the greenbelt. It was really, really nice. Michael was nice.”
Vicky snorted. “Do you hear yourself? You sound a whole lot like a woman in love.”
“I don’t either!” Cathy was so shocked by the suggestion that she couldn’t think of anything else to say. She just stared at her friend. In love with Michael? That was crazy! She wasn’t in love with Michael. She didn’t even know his last name.
“Yes, you do!” Vicky grinned at her. “By the way, Chloe told me about your new bracelet. She said that it was from your boyfriend, and that you said he was really cute.”
“Oh.” Cathy felt herself flush. She fingered the strap of her purse. “Well, Michael just wanted—wanted to give me something.”
“He must think you’re really cute, too.” At whatever was in her expression, Vicky laughed again. “Face it, girl. You’re falling in love.”
Cathy shook her head. She ignored a forlorn flutter near her heart. She set her purse down on the table next to the sofa. “I don’t think it would be a good idea to even think that way, not about me and Michael.”
“Why not? Because of Chloe?”
Cathy didn’t answer as she shrugged out of her jacket. “How was Chloe?”
Vicky raised her brows, but when Cathy just looked pointedly at her, she let the subject drop. “She was fine. She hasn’t stirred even once since she fell asleep.” They talked a few minutes more before Vicky pulled on her coat, gathered her purse, and left.
After locking the front door, Cathy looked in on her sleeping daughter. She bent and lightly smoothed her fingers down Chloe’s baby-soft cheek. It was so good to have her little girl home at last. Cathy tiptoed out of the tiny bedroom, easing the door halfway closed.
The evening was still early, and she decided that it was a good time to take care of some of her bookkeeping. She booted up the computer so that she could do her bill pay online. She remembered the gift card that Michael had given her and retrieved it out of her purse. She knew that it would have a good balance on it, but when she called to find out what it was, she nearly dropped the phone. “Oh my God.” Cathy couldn’t believe it. If that was what that gorgeous necklace had cost…guilt swamped her. She couldn’t possibly accept such a large amount. It wasn’t right. She called Michael and explained her feelings.
“Winter, it’s a gift card. I gave it to you.” He wouldn’t listen to her protestation but firmly repeated that it was his gift to her and hung up.
Cathy closed the cell and frowned down at the gift card. Then she shifted her gaze thoughtfully to the stack of bills lying on her desk. She drew in her breath. “Okay, then.” She paid the bills that were due, using the American Express gift card and had a balance remaining. As she slid the gift card back into her wallet, she murmured, “I am going to have one hell of an income-tax bill.”
Chapter Nineteen
The days passed in gentle routine that was a balm to Cathy’s spirit. The mornings were spent with Chloe. After lunch, while Chloe napped, Cathy concentrated on work. When Chloe awakened, she spent more time with her daughter. Telecommuting was a godsend. Difficulties cropped up now and again, but overall, she was confident in the quality of her work. At times she did miss the personal interaction at the office, even if it had been layered with pity and other difficult emotions. The ever-present anxiety was tucked away in the corner of her mind. However, Cathy was sleeping more peacefully, and she felt better than she had in a long time. She could not recall a happier time.
She faithfully took her daughter in for the routine hospital visits so that Chloe’s progress could be monitored. Chloe had been taking the shots that further depressed her immune system so that the blood transplantation would have a better chance. Chloe would continue with the same treatment until it was time for her to be newly inoculated for the usual childhood diseases.
When Chloe developed a small cough, Cathy immediately took her in to be examined. It had been impressed on Cathy many, many times that Chloe’s immune system was fragile. She wasn’t surprised when the oncologist recommended that Chloe stay overnight in the hospital.
Chloe was uncharacteristically quiet after being admitted. Cathy was reluctant to leave. She could sense from the way that Chloe clung to her that she didn’t want her to go, so Cathy just held her daughter closer. Cathy kept delaying her departure, but eventually the duty nurse told her that she could only stay a few minutes longer. Cathy managed to summon a smile and quietly thanked the nurse for letting her know. “Baby, I’ve got to go.”
Chloe looked up quickly into her eyes then bowed her head again. With a small finger, she traced a pattern on the back of her mother’s hand. “Mommy, are you ever scared?”
Cathy’s breath caught in her throat. She started to deny it, but something stopped her. In that moment, she sensed that her daughter needed the strictest honesty from her. Very softly, she said, “Yes, baby, I am. All the time.”
“Me, too.”
Tears sprang to Cathy’s eyes. She blinked hard, refusing to let them fall, determined not to further distress her daughter. She drew Chloe up against her and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. Chloe’s designer hat was a watered silk cap and the fabric felt cool under Cathy’s lips. “Then we’ll be scared together, okay?” Chloe let out a big sigh and settled closer, her head on Cathy’s breast. Eventually, she became boneless in sleep.
The metallic ping of the heart monitor was a monotonous underscore to Cathy’s somber reflections. It seemed to have done her daughter good to be told that she wasn’t the only one who was frightened. She was glad that she had told Chloe the truth. But she didn’t have to like it. What a horrible thing to have to say to your child, she thought. Chloe had so few childish illusions left. Other kids this age just find out that the tooth fairy isn’t real!
Cathy laid her head back and let the hard wall press into her skull. She felt utterly wearied by the long, painful journey that she and Chloe were on. She couldn’t begin to imagine what it felt like to Chloe.
The time that they had spent together, away from the hospital, had almost made it seem that their lives were normal. Almost, she thought bleakly. Cathy let out a rough sigh. That small halcyon sliver of time made this latest return to the hospital that much harder to bear. Undoubtedly that was what had motivated Chloe to ask for such transparency from her. It was a parent’s job to shelter a child against the harshness of life until they were able to stand on their own. She had been stripped of the ability to do that for Chloe a long time ago.
The duty nurse returned to remind her of the time. Cathy gently eased Chloe down, slipped off her daughter’s bed, and left the hospital room.
It was dark and late when Cathy let herself into the apartment. The emptiness echoed. She was upset and on edge. After changing out of her clothes into sweats, she warmed up some leftovers that she didn’t want but ate. Cathy wandered around restlessly, feeling like a caged animal. She wasn’t able to settle to anything, rejecting reading or cleaning to pass the time. She didn’t want to go to bed because she knew all she would do was toss and turn while her conversation with Chloe kept running through her mind. What had made Chloe ask her such a thing, and why tonight?
I need a distraction! She needed to take her mind off the fear and worry that nagged at her. She thrust her hands into her curls and groaned aloud with frustration. Sex with Michael was her opiate of choice. It was the only thing that she had ever found that gave her even a moment of forgetfulness. If she could only go to Michael and let him do for her what he did best, then possibly she would be able to sleep. She
desperately needed to sleep. But it was so late, too late to set up anything with him. Maybe there’s a late movie on television. She rejected that idea at once. She wouldn’t be able to sit still long enough to concentrate on a show.
A crazy thought struck her. Cathy ceased pacing, turning it over in her mind. A smile tugged at her lips. She walked into the cramped office and turned on the computer. In minutes, she found what she was looking for, a late-night showing of an action flick. Before she lost her nerve, she called Michael’s number. It was an odd time to get in touch with him, but she didn’t care. The phone rang twice before he picked up. “Michael?”
“Winter?” He sounded surprised. His voice sharpened. “Is something wrong?”
“No, everything is fine.” She spoke the lie without hesitation. She cleared her throat. “I was wondering…would you be up for a late movie?”
“Tonight?” The surprised inflection in his voice intensified.
“Yes, the feature is playing in twenty minutes.” Cathy told him the name of the film and the location. She tapped a nervous tattoo with her index finger on the desk top. “That is…if you’re not doing anything else.”
“No… I’m not doing anything else.” His reply was drawn out, ending in a moment of silence. Then he came back, decisive. “Okay. I’ll meet you there.”
“Good. And Michael…” Cathy paused. She dropped her voice to a sultry purr. “Come commando.”
Without waiting for a response, she broke the connection. She laughed in amazement at herself, closing the cell with shaking hands. She couldn’t believe that she had actually said that. She couldn’t believe she had said it like that.
* * * *
Inside the nearly empty theater auditorium, Winter waited. She had deliberately chosen a top row seat in the darkest corner. She saw Michael enter, hesitating while he glanced around for her. She waved to draw his attention. When he saw her, she could see the surprise that crossed his face.
Michael bounded up the broad carpeted stairs two at a time. When he reached her, he said, “You’ve got the nose-bleed section to yourself.”
Winter smiled at him, feeling devilment slice through her. Now that he was here, her nervousness vanished. Instead, anticipation was already pooling low in her belly. “That’s what I was hoping for. I thought it would be a good make-out spot.”
His dark brows scaled upward. There was a speculative expression in his ice-blue eyes. One side of his mouth quirked into a smile. “Make-out spot? I like the way you think, woman.” He sprawled down into the seat beside her.
There were only three other people scattered throughout the auditorium, all seated closer to the screen than they were. It was the last screening of the show. Winter smiled to herself as her heart began beating a bit faster. It was exciting to think about the little seduction she had planned, especially with other people sitting just rows away.
“Popcorn?” She offered the striped bucket to him. “I hope you like extra butter.” Without a word, Michael dug in his fingers and tossed some of the buttered popcorn into his mouth. The lights dimmed until the theater was dark. They crunched popcorn through the trailers and the film’s beginning. The action flick was a typical guy show with not much in the way of plot but lots of loud, spectacular pyrotechnics. When the popcorn bucket was empty except for a few kernels floating in the excess butter, Winter set the bucket out of the way. She turned back to Michael, who was watching her. “Now about making out…”
“What did you have in mind?” he asked in a low voice, easing his upper body closer.
“Pretend that we’re back in high school. I’ll let you get to first base.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, maybe even second.” Winter leaned over the armrest to kiss him. She closed her eyes when his mouth fitted to hers. They took their time to taste and linger, licking the salt and butter from one another.
Michael slid his hands up under her snuggly sweater. Winter held her breath. She was braless, and as his hands slid over her bare breasts, he growled low in his throat. Winter laughed quietly. His warm palms fondled her, and her insides began to melt. He kissed her openmouthed, greedily.
Winter grazed her fingertips over the zipper of Michael’s jeans, where there was a telltale bulge. At her touch, his shaft jerked under the denim. Obviously, she wasn’t the only one who wasn’t interested in the explosions on the screen. She rounded her palm and squeezed slowly. Michael grunted, his warm breath exhaling into her mouth.
Michael let go of her long enough to push up the armrest that separated their seats. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders to pull her closer. He flipped the button of his waistband and dragged down the zipper to give her access to him.
Winter slipped her hand inside the gap and felt the hot, hard flesh. He had nothing on under the jeans. She wrapped her fingers around his shaft and pulled it out. He hissed a breath when she gently thumbed the moistening tip of the broad head. She could feel the plane of his body stiffen.
Michael hooked his hand under her knee and lifted her leg over his denim-covered thigh. He slid one hand under the waist of her loose sweatpants and skimmed across her quivering belly, heading south. His warm hand froze when his explorations discovered that she wasn’t wearing underwear. Then his nimble fingers slid between her curls, boldly flirting and teasing her sex. Dampness centered between her thighs.
Winter squeezed her eyes shut, drawing in a slow deep breath. This was what she craved. She opened her eyes to pretend to watch the movie, but her full concentration was on the sensations she was feeling, how her body was tensing and responding.
Releasing him, she stretched and swept her hand through the greasy interior of the popcorn bucket. When she encircled his thick cock again, her fingers were slick and slid easily along his flesh. His cock thickened and lengthened as she stroked.
When Michael penetrated her first with one finger, then two, she parted her thighs wider and slid farther down in the seat. His digits moved steadily in and out. She caught her breath at the exquisite sensations.
The film moved swiftly with predictable action. Carnage and booming explosions and gunshots erupted on the screen, filling the theater with bursts of lights and deafening noise. Silently, they fondled each other. Not once did they look at one another, but stared at the screen.
* * * *
Michael rhythmically worked her with his fingers, his thumb rotating and pressing on her tight bud. Little pants began to escape her lips. Breathing harshly himself, he pulled her hand away from his engorged cock. He was afraid that he was going to explode. He suddenly felt the tightening shivers in her body. Her inner muscles clenched on his fingers. He let go of her wrist and grabbed her chin, turning her to him. Her lips were parting. He thrust his tongue into her mouth as she came. Through her silent shudders, he continued to thrust with his fingers while his tongue stroked a matching rhythm into her mouth. When her orgasm was over, he eased his wet fingers out. He kissed her openmouthed again, deeply. He was rock-hard, but he felt an incredible satisfaction that he had brought her to completion.
Winter pulled out of his embrace, slipping her leg off his. She shifted, turning in the seat, and went down on his naked cock. Her hot open mouth enveloped him. He bit off a curse. His butt involuntarily came up off of the seat cushion, but she rode him back down. She slid up and down his pulsing length, tonguing the swollen head. One of her hands squeezed the base of the shaft, before sliding underneath to pull and stretch his tight testicles.
Michael uttered a low guttural growl. He wound his fingers through the long strands of her curly hair to catch it back from her face. Through narrow-lidded eyes, he watched her work on him in the near-black theater. His mind was nearly blank, the burst of light finally firing behind his eyeballs more brilliant than the explosions that rocked the screen. His jerking cock jetted hotly down her throat.
Afterward, his head felt too heavy to hold up, and Michael dropped his skull against the padded back of the seat. His heart was thudding wild
ly in his chest. Beside him, Winter sat up and settled back in her seat. She wiped the sleeve of her sweater over her lips. Michael groped for her hand and entwined his fingers with hers. He tried twice before he found his voice. “I don’t remember making out in high school being that good.” Her breathy laugh tickled his cheek.
The screen action was still hot-paced. Michael and Winter slumped against each other, shoulder to shoulder. They rested without feeling the need to talk. Heartbeats steadied, and their bodies gradually cooled. Before the movie credits finished rolling, they adjusted their clothes. Winter slipped on a quilted jacket over her sweater. Michael carefully eased up his zipper, mindful not to catch tender flesh.
Michael turned his head to look at the incredible woman sitting beside him. He lifted his hand and gently pushed an errant curl behind her ear. She smiled at him, a little wickedly, and his heart did a queer flip-flop.
When the lights came back on, he offered his hand to her and helped her to her feet. They made their way out of the aisle and walked down the carpeted steps, trailing behind the other moviegoers. Walking hand in hand, appearing the very picture of a committed couple, Winter and Michael left the movie theater.
When they emerged into the chilly night, Michael placed his arm over her shoulders. He liked the warmth of her body where she was tucked against him. He breathed in her feminine scent, mingled with the muskiness of his own. He was relaxed and content in the moment. “Where are you parked? I’ll walk you to your car.”
“It’s over there, under the light.”
They walked through the almost-deserted parking lot to the Lexus. Winter pressed the lock and opened the door. Before she could slide in, Michael drew her up tight against him, closing his arms around her back. She slid her own arms under his coat, around his waist. He closed his eyes, reveling in her pliant warmth. His heart thudded solidly. He could almost make himself believe that he cared for her.
Roberts, Sarah - His Sugar Baby (Siren Publishing Allure) Page 19