The House on Mermaid Point

by Wendy Wax

  He kissed her deeply, cutting off her words, though she had no idea if that was his intent or if he felt what coursed between them as powerfully as she did. His flesh was hard and slippery against hers. His arms strong as he turned and pressed her up against the side of the hot tub. “Open your eyes, Maddie. I need to be sure you understand and that you want what’s about to happen.”

  She looked him straight in the eye and nodded as he slipped the straps of her bathing suit off her shoulders and lowered his mouth to her breasts. “I do.” She said this as clearly as she could while holding on against the sensations that spiraled through her. “I want you. I want you right now.”

  Then she closed her eyes and gave herself up to the moment, promising herself that no matter what happened next she would not regret this.

  Chapter Thirty-six

  For the first time in far longer than he wanted to remember William woke with a woman in his bed and knew immediately who she was and how she’d gotten there.

  Though they’d started in the hot tub with fireworks exploding in the air above them, moved to a pool chaise, then briefly—and unsuccessfully—given it a go in Maddie’s small berth on the houseboat, they’d ended up in his bedroom with a pint of salty caramel gelato and two spoons somewhere close to two A.M. They’d fallen asleep around three.

  He stretched slightly, inhaled her scent. Madeline Singer had been a major surprise in bed—and not just because she was older yet considerably less experienced than the women he was used to. He’d found her initial shyness endearing; the sweet urgency that had overtaken her, exciting. The sincerity of even her most tentative touch had turned out to be an even bigger turn-on than the confident moves of far more experienced women. He’d felt triumph at her incoherent delight when he’d driven her over the edge and the orgasms had taken her.

  Even more shocking was how much being stone-cold sober had heightened the experience. He’d always enjoyed the soft blur and heavy-limbed sensuality that came with the right combination of drugs and alcohol—though it had been a long time since he’d been able to control that mix.

  It was eight A.M. according to the phone on the nightstand. Daylight suffused the room. But if his erection were to be believed, he wasn’t anywhere near finished with Madeline Singer.

  She lay on her side, her back to him, her hair splayed across the pillow. He pulled the sheet up over both of them and fitted himself around her, his front to her back. His arm reached across her waist; one hand cupped her breast.

  “Maddie?” he whispered into the curve of her neck. She smelled of salty caramel gelato and him. “You awake?”

  “Mm-mm.” Her buttocks pressed back against his erection. “Maybe.” She took a deep breath and her breast shifted in his hand as she turned in his arms. A small smile lifted her lips, but her eyes remained closed almost as if she were afraid to open them. Her shoulders seemed almost as rigid as the part of him now pressing against her leg.

  “You okay?” He watched her face. Saw the “tell” of nervousness when she worried at her lip with her teeth. “Seriously, Maddie. Are you all right?”

  Her eyes blinked open and swept over his. He wasn’t sure what she saw, but she relaxed in his arms.

  “Never better.” She shifted to loop her arms around his neck. “I was just trying to figure out whether you had something in your pocket or you were just glad to see me.” She delivered the line with an intentional breathiness then pursed her lips and raised her eyebrows suggestively.

  “Ah.” He smiled and pulled her closer, wondering why he’d never realized humor was an aphrodisiac. Not that he’d ever chosen a partner based on her ability to make him laugh. Though come to think of it many of his partners had chosen him. Or more accurately, set their sights on being able to brag that they’d fucked him. At any rate, he doubted any of them had been old enough to quote Mae West as Maddie just had.

  “No pockets to speak of,” he said, teasing her back, “but definitely glad to see you.”

  He rolled onto his back, taking her with him. Her eyes widened in surprise; they flashed briefly in panic when the sheet slid off, leaving them naked. He ran his hands down her back and over her buttocks, caressing her lightly, wanting her to be as eager as he was. When her nipples hardened against his chest he lifted her onto his erection and settled her, marveling at how different she was, how amazingly normal. How real. They stared into each other’s eyes as her body slowly received his. “I take it you’re open to a morning ride?” He breathed the words into her neck.

  “I am. And I’m grateful,” she said as he began to move inside her. “I was afraid you were going to want to go fishing.”

  Afterward he pulled up the covers and fell asleep with her in his arms. He slept deeply, an unfamiliar sense of well-being infusing his dreams. He had no idea how long he’d been asleep when stray sounds began to pierce his consciousness. Pleasantly exhausted, he didn’t hear footsteps approaching. It took a few moments to process what was happening.

  “What are you doing in bed so late in the— Oh, sorry!”

  Will opened his eyes reluctantly to see Hudson Power standing in the bedroom doorway. Late afternoon sunlight streamed into the room. “Got lucky, huh? What happened?” Hud lowered his voice and moved toward the bed. “Did some unsuspecting tourist float . . .” His eyes opened in shock when they settled on the woman beside Will. “That’s not . . . What in the . . .” Hudson stuttered as if what he was seeing was beyond belief.

  “Shhh. You’ll wake her.” Will got out of bed and looked around for his clothes. Which was when he remembered that they’d undressed in the hot tub and never gotten dressed again. He turned his back on Hud and went into the bathroom, where he took a piss, found a dry bathing suit, and pulled it on. He found Hud waiting for him in the hall off the closet staring at him like he’d never seen him before.

  “What?”

  Hud took him by the arm, drew him back into the bathroom.

  “Really, Will!” Hud hissed. “What the hell happened?”

  “Are you serious?” Will scratched his stomach then decided to brush his teeth. It seemed fairly obvious to him. “You act like you’ve never walked in and seen me in bed with a woman before.”

  “Not a woman like her,” Hud said. “Not a woman like Maddie. How could you do that to her?” He said this as if Will had been caught trying to grope Mother Teresa.

  “Do that to her?” Will took in his friend’s still-shocked face. “What? You think I hit her over the head and dragged her to my bedroom against her will?”

  “Did you?”

  “Jesus, Hud. Have I ever had to drag anyone into my bed?”

  “So you’re saying she hit you over the head with a club and had her way with you?”

  “What is it with the club . . . ? We found ourselves here at the same time with nothing going on and we decided to sleep together.” Will shrugged. “It happens.”

  “Maybe to you. But I don’t think that’s the way it happens for her.”

  Will wasn’t about to rhapsodize to Hud about how novel an experience he’d just had. None of this, not one bit of it, was anybody’s business. Not even Hud’s. “I’m aware that Madeline Singer is different from other women I’ve slept with, but nonetheless we had consensual sex. There was no coercion on anyone’s part.”

  “Right. The woman had a frickin’ poster of you on her wall when she was a teenager. She’s been married and stuck in suburbia forever. All you had to do was crook a finger. She had zero chance of ever resisting your famous ass.”

  “You’re stepping way over the line here. And you know what else? For all that you sound like you’ve got some crush going on, you don’t know what you’re talking about. And you are totally underestimating Madeline Singer.”

  Hud was pacing the confines of the master bath now. Will had never seen him so worked up. “I’ve known you a long time, Will,” he said. �
��I’ve seen you fucked up. I’ve seen you self-destruct and do some serious damage to people around you. I’ve seen you piss away a fortune. But I’ve never seen you take advantage of a woman this way.”

  There was a thud from the bedroom.

  “Happy now?” he asked Hudson like some twelve-year-old caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to. He left the bathroom and strode toward the sound, Hud right behind him. “You woke her up. Now you can ask her yourself how badly I took advantage of her.”

  As they reached the bed Maddie froze in the bedroom doorway, clearly caught fleeing the scene. She was barefoot and wore one of Will’s T-shirts—it hung down almost to her knees and way past her elbows. Slowly she turned to face them. She had a serious case of bedhead and her lips looked kind of swollen.

  “I didn’t want to interrupt your conversation. It sounded somewhat . . . heated.” She looked directly at Hudson. Will almost laughed at the blush that spread across his friend’s face.

  “Hud accidentally walked in on us,” Will explained when Hud seemed unable to find his tongue. “And he’s having a hard time believing that you were in my bed of your own free will.”

  Her fingers bunched in the fabric of his T-shirt, but her chin came up. “Because?” There was a bit of an edge to the word. Almost as if she were the parent, and they were children. It was all he could do not to hang his head. Hudson wasn’t faring any better. The situation no longer struck him as humorous.

  “Because he knows me,” Will said quietly. “And because, apparently, you’re far too classy and intelligent a woman to end up in my bed.”

  She nodded but didn’t say anything. She looked at him expectantly, but it had been a night of firsts. And this morning after was even more alien territory. He had no idea what was supposed to happen next. “So . . . maybe you could reassure him that we slept together because we wanted to. That it’s none of his frickin’ business.” He thought for a second and added, “And that it wasn’t all that big a deal.”

  She blanched at the last and he thought he heard Hud mutter something that sounded like “moron.”

  When neither of them spoke Will floundered ahead. “We had a good time together. Hell, it was . . . definitely better than good. We . . . like each other.” He stopped. Maddie’s face was a bit troubling. It seemed to be sort of crumpling. If he could have gotten rid of Hud he might have salvaged things.

  But Hud didn’t move and Will was at a loss. And so even though this was not business as usual, he fell back on what he knew. He distanced himself, pushed her away, which he had no doubt was the kinder, gentler thing in the long run. He was not a happily-ever-after kind of guy.

  “It was sex, man. We both enjoyed it. End of story.” He looked Maddie in the eye, looking for agreement. “I don’t really see the problem here. Do you, babe?”

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  Babe?! Maddie was back at the houseboat with no idea how long she’d been there when Kyra, Dustin, Avery, Deirdre, and Nicole got back, all of them chattering about the holiday.

  Maddie hugged Dustin, then the others, but her mind was elsewhere. Specifically on William Hightower and the night they’d spent together. He’d been a skilled and generous lover, his attention so focused on her that if her hands had been free she would have pinched herself.

  After far too little sleep she’d woken afraid he’d be unable to hide his disappointment when he saw her in the harsh light of day, but he’d surprised her again. And then Hudson had arrived—an embarrassment she might have gotten over if only it hadn’t turned William Hightower into a complete stranger. The kind of “player” who relied on faux endearments like “babe” so the wrong woman’s name wouldn’t spill out at a critical moment.

  “Are you okay?” Deirdre was looking at her oddly. So was Kyra.

  “Sure.”

  “How was the weekend?” Avery asked.

  “Good.”

  “What did you do?”

  “Oh, you know. Not too much.” If you didn’t count monkey sex with a man you’d been fantasizing about through most of your formative years. “I just took it easy. Laid around and napped in the hammock. Took a dip in the pool. Nothing special or particularly newsworthy.” She thought about Will’s It wasn’t all that big a deal. “You know, nothing anybody would consider important.”

  She felt herself flush at the lie and with what she wanted to be irritation but which felt more like humiliation. Which was ridiculous. What had been a fantasy come to life for her had probably been more like . . . scratching an itch for him. She closed her eyes briefly and wondered what on earth she had expected.

  “You look kind of tired for someone who spent the last two days relaxing.” Avery was studying her as if she’d never seen her before.

  “I’d much rather hear what you all did. Let’s go up for sunset.” Maybe some fresh air would clear her head.

  “We’re hours from sunset.” Now Deirdre was looking at her closely.

  “Well, then let’s fix dinner and you can tell me about your holidays.” Maddie moved toward the houseboat kitchen.

  “That would be great, Mom. Except there’s no potential dinner food here. I mean, I see one pretty nice-looking steak. We could probably get a bite each.”

  “I meant to get out to the store today, but time just . . . got away from me.” Maddie was careful not to wince at the understatement.

  “Well, fortunately I stocked up on snacks on the way back from Key West.” Avery patted two grocery bags.

  “And I smuggled some Ted Peters smoked fish spread back from St. Pete.” Kyra pulled a brown paper bag out of her backpack. “I’m pretty sure we’ve got crackers here to put it on.”

  “I may have a loaf of Cuban bread tucked in my suitcase,” Deirdre added, as if the crusty concoction might have found its way into her bag on its own.

  “I’ll fix PB and J for Dustin and myself.” Kyra turned to the others. “Anybody else?”

  Nicole poured rum into their soft drink cans. It was on the tip of Maddie’s tongue to tell them the “no alcohol” mandate wasn’t as critical as they’d thought, that Will knew they’d been spiking their sodas, but it was her greatest hope that none of them would ever know that she’d slept with him.

  They put everything edible they could find on the table then arranged themselves on the banquette that surrounded it.

  “So how was Key West?” Nicole reached for a plastic knife and the fish spread. She’d set out a tin of biscotti Joe’s mother had sent back with her.

  “It was great, but packed with tourists. It felt practically claustrophobic after living on a private island.” Avery popped a Cheez Doodle into her mouth. “And it turns out Chase is very popular with drag queens.”

  “You’re going to have to give us a little more than that.” This came from Kyra, who had settled Dustin on her lap.

  “A lot more than that,” Nicole agreed.

  Maddie felt a little of her tension begin to dissipate, though she wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or the women surrounding her.

  “Okay, so we went on this great sunset cruise and had a late dinner at a little Spanish restaurant called El Siboney. Then Sam, Chase’s friend, said we really had to take in a drag show.”

  “But of course you did.” Deirdre nodded.

  “So we ended up at this place on Duval called La Te Da. And the first number, this performer who looked exactly like Marilyn Monroe, only possibly prettier, comes up and puts her arms around Chase and kind of buries his face in her chest. And then she looks at me and says, ‘I know I’m his type, honey. Because I look more like you than you do.’”

  There was laughter.

  “Chase couldn’t quite bring himself to stick a bill in her bra or her garter, but he was a pretty good sport. And after that he was like catnip. Honestly, they were gorgeous. And talented. I was afraid if I didn’t hold on tight they were go
ing to carry him back to the dressing room and ask him what he saw in me.”

  They all laughed as they tried to picture it. Maddie took another sip of her doctored Diet Coke.

  “What about you, Nikki?” Deirdre asked.

  “Well, as far as I know there were no female impersonators at the Giraldi family reunion at Joe’s. Though come to think of it his Nonna Sofia does have a bit of a mustache going.” Nicole smiled and shook her head. “They’re really great people and I don’t think they understand what Joe sees in me—his mother hasn’t given up on him giving her grandchildren—but I could tell they know he’s proposed and they seem to want Joe to have what he wants. For some unknown reason that seems to be me.”

  “They’d be lucky to have you in their family,” Avery pointed out.

  “And you could adopt, you know. There are fertility options.” Deirdre slathered fish spread on a cracker.

  “I really don’t see that happening. Though Nonna Sofia waved a raw chicken leg at me before it went on the grill and muttered something in Italian and I’m kind of afraid it might have been a fertility curse. Which, given the age of any remaining eggs, would be like trying to turn the Colosseum into a McDonald’s.”

  There was more laughter but Nicole was no longer smiling. “Even if my eggs hadn’t already reached their expiration date, I’m pretty sure that the job I did raising Malcolm proves I’m not parent material.”

  “His behavior was not your fault,” Maddie said, relieved to be talking about someone else’s issues. “Any more news about him?”

  “Joe kind of keeps tabs. He’s apparently been a model prisoner. And the environment seems to agree with him. He’s dropped twenty-five pounds, works out every day, and spends his free time working on his autobiography.” Nicole pushed away her plate of crackers and spread.