She reached home and parked the car, sitting there silently – she had turned off the radio; she needed time to think and regroup. She had spent so much time running away from her emotions that they were at last catching up to her.
Michael had told her one time that she was too cool and uptight and she needs to loosen up. With David, she had always been herself; he knew who she was and what she was about.
Sara bit her lip as she remembered the first time they had made love. It had been the first time for both of them and she smiled sadly as she recalled how gentle he had been. They had sneaked into his house when his parents had gone to church that night. It had been her eighteenth birthday and they had wanted to celebrate it together. He had stolen a bottle of wine and taken it up to his room and had bought her a cupcake with a candle in it. They had started kissing, then he had taken off her clothes, his hands trembling. He had told her how beautiful she was, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his life and he wanted to please her so much. She had taken off his clothes shyly; her innocent hands reaching out to take hold of his penis; her expression curious. They had fumbled their way around each other and when he placed his erection inside her she had cried out in pain. He had wanted to stop but she would not let him and after a while the pain had lessened and the pleasure had increased. He came before her; his hoarse cry echoing around the room; she came soon after; sinking her teeth into his shoulder as the pleasure coursed through her body. It had taken a while for his shoulder to heal and the bite marks to fade and he wore it proudly; saying it was her brand on him.
Sara stared unseeingly into the night. The night had gone a little chilly and she shivered slightly; it was such a beautiful night and summers always brought back such bitter sweet memories. So much had happened to her over the past years and she just wanted to settle down and sort her life out. She had thought she could cut it as a model but she had done a short stint and she had not made it – and the glossiness and shallow living had lost its appeal as far as she was concerned.
Sara got out of the car and locked the doors; making sure the alarm was activated and then she went inside. Her father was still up and with a cheerful smile, she greeted him. He was sitting in his favorite rocker by the window and reading his Bible. “Everything went well?” he placed his finger on the page as he looked at her.
“Yes,” she told him, going over to kiss his cheek softly. “I am going to bed now Dad, don’t stay up too late.”
She went up to her bedroom and took off her clothes going straight to the bathroom; and it was there with the water running off her body that she gave in to her emotions; her body shaking with tears.
Chapter 4
“Pass me the lemon juice will you? It’s in the refrigerator on the top shelf,” Callie stirred the chicken and covered it to simmer. Sara passed the lemon juice to her. They were at Callie’s house and she was busy preparing dinner for her men, as she called them. She had invited Sara over for dinner and her husband and son had gone to the park for the afternoon.
“I can’t get over how domesticated you have become,” Sara marveled, taking a seat on the stool by the counter and propping her chin on her hand as she watched her friend move around the kitchen. The house was nice and homely, with touches of color everywhere and scattering of toys all around. Callie had given up working at an accounting firm to be a stay at home mom.
“That’s me I have become a stepford wife and the kind of woman we used to deride, remember?” she shook her head wryly. It was Saturday afternoon and a week had passed since the debacle at David’s house and Sara was almost back to normal. She had seen him one time after that when they had met with the young people to plan some more but he had kept his distance and so had she.
“Do you have any regrets?” Sara popped a grape into her mouth and chewed the sweet fruit with relish. She was still in her work clothes; jeans and a dress shirt and her father had shooed her out to go and do something; so she had accepted Callie’s invitation.
“About marrying Paul or staying at home?” Callie's eyebrows rose inquiringly as she sprinkled lemon juice into the pot with the chicken.
“Staying at home,” Sara said.
“Sometimes,” Callie shrugged, coming to sit on the stool beside Sara. “Sometimes I feel like I would just tear my hair out. And when Ben is asleep, I find myself wandering the house trying to find something to do; there is only so much daytime T.V. you can watch before you start growing numb.”
“I don’t know if I could do it,” Sara said reflectively. “Does that make me sound selfish?”
“You’re who you are girl,” Callie went to turn the knob on the stove. Then she went to the fridge and poured them both a refreshing glass of iced tea. “I had a miscarriage two years ago, and my marriage have not been the same ever since.”
“Oh Callie, I am so sorry,” Sara exclaimed, putting down her drink and placing a hand on her friend’s.
“Paul and I went through a pretty rough patch and we separated for a couple of months,” she shook her head. “For a long time we were not sure we would ever be okay again but we’re getting there by the help of God.” She turned and faced Sara. “I needed you there and you weren’t. You were my best friend and I couldn’t even call you; I went through hell Sara and I did not have my best friend around to help me get through it.”
Sara felt the shame wash over her. She had disappointed so many people that she wondered if she was ever going to make up for what she did. She had given in to her selfish ambitions and had not cared one bit who she hurt in the process. “I was younger and very foolish and I wanted to spread my wings and I was not about to let anyone stop me. Not a loved one; not my best friend,” she look at Callie soberly.
Callie shook her head and got up; coming over to the devastated girl and giving her a hug. “You should have trust me enough to tell me what was going on with you,” she told her fiercely. “I probably would have tried to talk you out of it but I would have listened.”
“I know,” Sara said tearfully, returning her hug gratefully. “Oh Callie, I have made such a mess of things and I don’t know how to fix it.”
“Stop trying to fix it,” Callie told her; giving her a squeeze before letting go and going over to the stove to save the rice that was simmering on low fire. “It will sort itself out and David will come around,” she looked at her friend shrewdly.
“How did you know-?” Sara stopped in mid-sentence.
“How did I know you two still love each other?” Callie looked at her mildly. “The sparks fly when you’re near girl; you two belong together.”
“I am not sure he thinks that anymore,” Sara said miserably.
“He will, if he doesn’t already,” Callie advised. Just then they heard Paul and Benjamin’s chatter coming up the driveway. “Men like to be pushed in the right direction.” She added; turning around to catch the running Benjamin as he launched himself into her arms chattering a mile a minute.
They had dinner and Sara felt better than she had since she had gotten back. Callie was her best friend again and she felt as if she was actually getting somewhere.
*****
The concert was well on its way and the performances were well appreciated by the audience. The church hall was packed to capacity and Sara was backstage with Callie and David and several others who were helping with props and costume changes. She had chosen to wear a flowing pink and green summer dress that left her arms bare and big gold earrings and matching bracelets. She had on minimum make up and she had caught David looking at her several times, but she had ignored him. Callie was right; it will sort itself out.
He performed a solo himself and when it was time for him to go out; he glanced at her briefly and then left.
“I told you,” Callie whispered with a grin. Paul and Benjamin were seated in the second row so that she could keep an eye on them. “That man is into you.”
Sara ignored her and wandered to the side of the stage, to take a peek at him. His singing
had improved and he held his audience captive with a song he had composed; entitled: ‘God’s Grace is Bigger’. She found herself clapping enthusiastically as he finished, among cries of ‘encore’ but he graciously declined and made way for the next act.
The concert was finished at ten and Sara wished it had continued – she had enjoyed herself immensely. Her father was long gone, claiming extreme weariness and Callie had to rush home because Ben was coming down with something. “Call me tomorrow,” she told Sara as she rushed out.
Sara stayed behind to help with the cleaning up and so did David. Before long, everyone had trickled out leaving them both. She helped him lock up and they went out to the parking lot. It was almost eleven o’clock but Sara felt energized and not in the least bit sleepy.
“Had fun?” he asked her as they walked to her car. His truck was parked next to hers.
“Tremendously,” she laughed gaily. She had brought a thin sweater which she put on over her dress; it was starting to feel a little chilly.
“I'm glad,” he said softly.
She made to open her car door and then stopped, turning to face him. “You have a wonderful talent, David,” she told him sincerely.
“Thanks,” he murmured. He was standing in front of her and Sara found herself wondering what he would do if she just leaned into him and kissed him. Without even thinking about it she got closer to him and put her arms around his neck. “Sara?” his voice was husky.
“I want to kiss you,” she told him and before he could respond she stood on her toes to reach his mouth. He smelled of his familiar elusive cologne and the cool night air and as his breath stirred her face she moaned; her tongue delving inside his mouth. For a moment, he stood rigid and then with a muffled groan he pulled her closer to him and returned the kiss with ardor. He bore back against the car, one hand reaching to touch her unfettered breasts; rubbing against the nipple while his mouth ravished hers. Sara sagged against the car; she was trembling; her heart thundering inside her chest. She had to have him and it had to be now.
It was the glare of headlights that brought them back to where they were. “Not here,” he muttered harshly, wrenching his lips from hers. He rested his forehead against hers, trying to bring his breathing under control.
“I need you,” she told him huskily.
He groaned and his hands tightened around her. “Come home with me,” he breathed.
“It’s too late,” she said helplessly, her body vibrating. “I didn’t say anything to my Dad.”
“Have dinner with me tomorrow at my place,” he sighed against her lips.
She nodded, her heart thundering. She lifted her head and gazed at him; his breath caught in his throat as he stared at her face, illuminated by the street light. Her coffee and cream complexion was flushed with excitement and her eyes were heavy lidded. She looked like sex, there was no better way to put it and he felt the heaviness in his loins. He needed her desperately.
“You have to leave now,” he told her hoarsely, his eyes holding hers. “I can’t hold out if you don’t go.” With a groan, he took her lips with his roughly; his hands crushing her and then letting go abruptly, striding away to wrench open the door of his truck and going inside.
He watched her until she had driven out of the parking lot and then he followed behind her to make sure she had reached home safely.
She could not sleep that night and she found herself twisting and turning; going over and over in her mind what they had done and how his touch had made her feel. She had wanted so much to go home with him, she wanted him so much. She finally fell asleep in the wee hours of the morning but it was a sleep that was sprinkled with confusing dreams about David.
*****
She had told her father she was going out to dinner and he had given her a quizzical look before he nodded. “See you when I see you,” he told her with a slight smile. The store had not been busy and she had left a little after five. David had told her to come over as soon as she was finished at the store. She got to his house half an hour later and just sat in the car, wondering what on earth she was doing. She had dressed carefully in a tan pantsuit, cream blouse and tan heels. She had gold hoops at her ears and a thin gold chain around her neck.
“Are you going to sit out there all evening?” his voice jolted her out of her reverie and Sara jumped guiltily. She had been so deep in thought that she had not heard him approaching. He was leaning against the gate and his expression was amused. He was in jeans and a white T-shirt and his hair was slightly tousled by the breeze.
“I was just getting out,” she told him defensively, climbing out of the car.
“And here I was thinking maybe you were getting cold feet.” He teased, opening the gate to let her in. He was so close that her breast brushed against his chest, causing her to jump slightly. She was jumpy and nervous and she was annoyed with herself.
“Why would you think that?” she brushed past him, not seeing the admiring look he gave her.
“Make yourself at home,” he told her heading for the kitchen. “I have iced tea, root beer and lemonade in the fridge, drink something.”
Sara had taken off her shoes and was in her stocking feet. She wandered over to the large double sided fridge and took a glass from the sideboard and poured herself some lemonade. She caught a glimpse of him inside the kitchen, busily stirring something on the stove. “This was your aunt’s house wasn’t it?” she asked him; she had wandered into the kitchen and perched on a stool at the counter.
“Yes,” he nodded. “She left it to me and I did some renovations; still doing some. I have some ideas – I am planning to build a gazebo and wraparound benches in the garden and a green grocery around the side.”
“That sounds like a good idea and something the neighborhood needs,” Sara said approvingly, sipping her ice cold drink.
“Thanks,” he told her. “Ready to eat?”
“What’s for dinner?” she asked him, sniffing the air.
“My famous chicken pot pie and apple tart. Do you mind if we eat in here?”
“I would love that,” she told him.
He put the place mats on the counter and asked her to get some plates from the cupboard. The meal was delicious and Sara found herself asking for more. “When did you learn to cook so well?” she asked him curiously, she was on her second helping of apple tart.
“Mom taught me the basics and I love to experiment,” he reached over and used a finger to wipe sauce from her chin, bringing the finger to his mouth to lick it.
Don’t make it sexual, she told herself firmly as she stared at him.
“Finished?” he asked her, getting up to put the dishes inside the sink.
She nodded not trusting herself to speak.
“Want any coffee?” he asked as she slid off the stool.
“No,” she murmured. He had come up beside her and his hands trapped her against the counter. “David?” she leaned back against the counter.
“Hmm,” he was busy. Looking at her slightly parted lips which still had the rose gloss she had put on shortly before she came over. Her eyes which were slightly lowered and heavy lidded. He was busy, fighting the feeling that threatened to overcome him. His mouth lowered slowly and Sara waited, not moving as he reached within a hairs breadth of her lips, his breath touching her. He took her lips with his and she succumbed; she had been waiting so long for this. She had anticipated how she would feel and what she would do but all of that fled through the window as his lips touched hers. His mouth was hard against hers and even though he was not touching anywhere else on her body; her entire being was flooded with warmth and she felt the tingling traveling from her toes upwards. It was she who did the touching, the reaching out as she twined her arms around his neck, pressing her body closer to him; willing him to hold her but he didn’t, he continued to torture her with his mouth; his kisses taking her breath away; almost had her begging for more.
He broke the kiss and leaned his forehead against hers, his breathi
ng harsh. They stayed that way for a time, neither of them saying anything – he was not holding her and she had her arms still around his neck. She was wondering what he was thinking and torturing herself on how she could make him see how sorry she was. “You always have a way of making me forget where I am and what I am about,” he told her huskily; lifting his head. “Here we are in my kitchen and I can’t wait to get you in my bed and tear off your clothes; what have you done to me Sara? What is this power you have over me that no matter how much you hurt me I can’t hate you? I run straight back into your arms?”
“Let me go,” Sara pushed against him but he would not budge. And as Sara looked up at him, she saw it; the confusion, the sadness and the passion, emotions he had no control over, emotions he was wrestling with. She felt the tenderness washed over her; tenderness for this man who had been broken when she had left and she wanted to ease his pain and tell him she was here and never leaving again; but he would not believe her; words would not do it now, maybe action would.
“I hate myself for hurting you so much,” she told him softly, reaching a hand to touch his rigid jaw, roughened by an overnight growth. He was always saying that no matter how often he shaved, he just could not keep up with the growth of hair on his face. “I wish I could take it back but I cannot and I don’t know what to do,”
He stood there looking down at her, his expression not changing. Then with a tortured groan he closed his arms with stunning force. His lips came down and his mouth moved over hers with bruising force; opening up a maelstrom that swept them along with a force that swept them away on its tide.
Sara held on to him; her body moving restlessly against his; her arms tight around his neck. With a swift movement, he swept her off her feet and into his arms, never once breaking the kiss; his mouth moving hers desperately as if he broke the contact she would leave.
Marrying My Childhood Sweetheart: A BWWM Christian Romance Page 4