by Ann Whitaker
“Not everyone owns a Georgia O’Keeffe.” He sounded impressed.
I shrugged. “I don’t know about that. I just liked the colors.” I couldn’t tell if he believed me or not. No need making him feel bad by reminding him my family had money, even if none of it was mine.
“The trees here came as a surprise. And your fish pond. I like it.”
“Well, yeah. Abilene does have trees. And water. Not quite the same as Waco, but we have pecans, red oaks, mesquites...and the fish pond uses well water.”
Then he hit me with a sneak play. “Let’s talk about your sin.” His face turned serious.
“My sin?” I knew he didn’t mean the perfume.
“The sin of omission. Why didn’t you tell me Philip was a dog? All this time—”
“You never asked.”
“But you led me to think he was the love of your life.”
“Well, he is. I didn’t lie. Everything I said was true. He’s sweet, handsome, loving…”
Nick sniffed. “What else haven’t you told me?”
“Are you mad at me?” I leaned toward him, pooching out my lips and wrinkling my brow as I’d seen Carmen do.
“I’ll get over it.” He draped his arm around my shoulders and gave me a playful shake. “But I don’t understand why you couldn’t tell me.”
When I didn’t answer, he turned to face me, moving his arm away. I wanted to grab it back and wrap it around me like a boa constrictor. Instead, I held up my candle so I could see his face.
He grinned in a way I’d come to love. “My little mystery girl.”
Though my fake aura had attained success, I wished he’d said, “my sexy girl” or “my beautiful girl,” but the thought of being his any-kind-of-girl sent one of those warm chills coursing through me.
“Julie,” he whispered, leaning closer, his deep voice huskier than usual.
The way he said Julie made me feel like a James Bond martini, except I was shaken and stirred.
“Let me have it,” he said.
I whispered, breathlessly. “Yes.” If I’d been hooked up to a pulse monitor, the little electronic heart would have been flashing double-time.
He held out his hand. “The candle.”
“Oh.” I was too excited by now to be embarrassed.
He took the candle, blew it out, and pulled me to my feet. I wobbled slightly, but not from the wine. My whole body was crying out for him to decant me here and now.
“Look up,” he said, turning me around so my back pressed against the front of his body. He pointed to the sky. “A falling star.”
Moonstruck, I made a wish.
He seemed content to stand there, letting me lean against him. He bent down and inhaled the scent of my hair, and when he exhaled, his breath warmed my neck. I thought back to our first kiss. This time there would be no pulling back, no reluctance on my part.
I pointed up to a break in the trees. “Look. A full moon.” Why was it taking him so long to kiss me?
He laughed.
“What?” I asked, angry with him for spoiling the mood.
“That’s not the moon. That’s your neighbor’s floodlight.”
“Well, it looks like the moon from here.”
“That’s what I love about you, Julie. You’re so refreshingly honest—except for misleading me about Philip. You’re different from anyone I’ve ever known.”
I didn’t want to be “refreshingly honest.” I wanted to be sexy and desirable. Then it hit me, what he’d just said. He’d used “love” and “you” in the same sentence. It wasn’t the same as “I love you,” but it would do. I leaned back and twisted my head around so my face was against his neck. Inhaling deeply, I imagined microscopic atoms of his essence filling my lungs, circulating through my blood.
Nick took my shoulders, turned me to face him, and wrapped his arms around me. Then he placed his lips to the side of my neck right below my ear. Suddenly, I was Frankenstein’s creature, a bolt of lightning surging through me. I half expected Nick to cry out, “It’s alive!”
Instead, he nibbled lightly on my ear, his breath quickening.
A shiver of longing ran through me, and he held me tighter. “Cold?” he asked.
Considering the temperature, it was unlikely I’d be shivering from the cold, but instead of my usual smart-ass comeback, I tried to stay in character—the new, nicer Julie.
“Let’s go inside,” I said.
As we entered the living room, I checked out the CD player. “Disc 2” glowed in green digital numbers. I had plenty of time.
Nick glanced around the room. “You must really like candles.”
Some were placed strategically, others clumped together on a side table next to picture of me and a toy poodle. Like Philip, whose full name was Philippe Guillaume, my last dog’s name was also French—Joseph Robert—Joe Bob for short. Though I hadn’t intended it, the table resembled a small shrine.
“Oh, I’m not Catholic,” I said quickly, not sure why it mattered, unless birth control became an issue. No way could I tell him the candles were part of my grand seduction plan. He smiled, led me to the sofa, and pulled me down beside him.
We looked into each other’s eyes, and slowly our bodies connected like two life-sized magnets. Even if I’d wanted to, I couldn’t have pulled away. My arms reached up to his shoulders, and his hands clasped my waist.
“So tiny,” he said.
“But unbreakable.” Now I was lying. As of this moment, he could break my heart with one word.
Philip, who’d been sleeping in his little doggy bed, raised his head and eyed us suspiciously. Contrary to what Sarah had said, he wasn’t used to male company.
Nick’s lips brushed mine lightly, tentatively. I leaned into him, pressing as much of myself against him as I could, running my hands down his back and over his hips. His muscles were taut and sinewy. He shuddered at my touch, and his hands slid up and cupped my breasts, causing me to tremble. None of my fantasies could compete with Nick in the flesh. Something told me this man was special. Different from the others. In his arms, I felt safe. I hoped it wasn’t merely wishful thinking.
His voice turned husky again. “Do you know how difficult it’s been, knowing you were there, every night, in bed, with only a few feet of wall between us?” He bent forward and placed his lips on one of my breasts. His breath warmed the cotton fabric of my knit top, the heat radiating outward and down, burning my already parched body. My nipples hardened, and he flicked out his tongue and licked me through the layer of fabric, sending me past redemption. I had imagined this scenario over and over, and now that it had arrived, I wanted to remember it forever.
I clutched the back of his head and pulled his face toward mine, while my hips automatically arched into him.
“Every night I’ve imagined touching you like this,” he said.
Scrapping my plans to let him undress me, I pulled back, and moving slowly, inch by inch, lifted my top over my head. In the flickering candlelight, Nick watched my every move, his eyes hot with need, burning me with his desire.
As I watched him watch me, I grew less inhibited, performing for my audience of one. I pulled the straps of my bra off my shoulders and caressed my breasts with my eyes locked on Nick’s, his on me. I reached behind me, undid the clasp of my bra, and let it fall. Then I reached upward in a gesture of surrender.
At first, he just stared, and I wondered if he was looking for my breasts. Then he reached out and touched my face and gazed into my eyes. “They’re perfect. I’ve pictured them like this from the day we met.” Warmth suffused my body. He was talking about my breasts, my breasts.
He cupped one in his hand, bent down, and took a nipple in his mouth. He held my other breast firmly, as if he didn’t want to lose it. I pressed myself even closer, quivered, and a low moan escaped my lips.
Philip sneezed, jumped out of his little bed, and hobbled out of the room on his three good legs.
I leaned back against the sofa cushions, pu
lling Nick down with me. My flippy skirt flipped up past my waist. I felt delightfully exposed.
Below decks, Virgin Mary was resurrected. I’d named her Mary back when she was still a virgin and we’d first met. I was twenty at the time and a late bloomer. Though Mary could be contrary, before this night was over, Proud Mary would be rolling on the river.
Nick and I kissed again, this time with more fervor. Our tongues rolled around each other like two oil wrestlers.
Stretched out full length, Nick’s body was lean and hard, his breath hot against my neck. He pressed his hips into mine, and we moved rhythmically against each other.
“Oh, God, I want you, Julie.”
As I reached down and fumbled with his zipper, a wave of desire made me gasp for air. The room ceased to exist. The whole world ceased to exist. New Orleans or Abilene, at this one moment in time, it didn’t matter which big-ass city we were in or even what planet we were on.
Though I tried to hold him back, Nick sat up and moved to the end of the sofa near my feet. I groaned but didn’t budge, unless panting counted. He took my feet in his hands and rubbed them firmly from heel to toe. Toe to heel. He was punching all my autopilot buttons, and Proud Mary was revving up her engines, preparing for launch.
His tongue touched the inside of my calf, and slowly, so slowly, he began to lick his way home, over my calf, past my knee, then tracing a path inside my thigh. My legs were weak and trembly under his touch. When he got close enough, I held his head in my hands, wanting to guide him higher, but he moved back down toward my feet and tongued his way up my other leg, stopping way too soon. I wasn’t sure what he was feeling, but to me he felt wonderful.
He gently rubbed his hands up and down the inside of my thighs. “Did you know this is the softest spot on a woman’s body?”
All I knew was this man was starving me. Like little Oliver Twist holding up his porridge bowl, I wanted to plead, “More?”
Nick cupped his warm hand over Mary and began to run his finger under the elastic edge of my panties. I was immobile, like The Blob under house arrest. When he leaned over and placed his mouth between my legs and exhaled warmth breath, I arched my back and lifted my hips. That’s when I finally saw that star Nick was talking about, but this one was shooting, not falling.
My breath came in short gasps, and my heart thumped like the woofer on my stereo when Waylon Jennings sang “Waltz Across Texas.”
“Bedroom,” I think Nick said, followed by “comfortable.” By this time I was practically blind and deaf.
We got up and stumbled down the hall in the dark till we reached Nick’s bedroom and fell onto the bed.
A low growl, followed by a snarling yip ripped me out of my libidinous stupor.
“Holy shit! He bit me!” Nick leaped from the bed, almost tossing me onto the floor.
“What? Philip?” I fumbled in the dark for the bedside lamp and flipped the switch. The bright light momentarily blinded me. I blinked. Nick stood at the foot of the bed, a look of astonishment on his face.
“Philip bit you?”
“That would be my guess, unless you’ve set a rat trap in the bed to ward off unwanted guests.”
I looked around. Philip had retreated to the far side of the bed where he hunkered on top of a pillow, eyeing Nick warily. Nick’s body language was remarkably similar. He headed for the door, his eyes locked on Philip.
“Oh, Nick, I’m so sorry. It’s because he’s hurt, and we were in his room.”
“His room?”
“This is his territory. I mean, it’s not really his room, but he thinks it’s his room. He often sleeps down here when he’s not sleeping with me upstairs. And tonight, after the surgery and all, it would have hurt him too much to climb the stairs.”
“That doesn’t mean he had to bite me!”
“We scared him. An injured and frightened animal will strike back. The only reason he bit you instead of me was because you were…closer.” I started to say on bottom but decided against it. “Are you okay?”
“I think I’ll survive, but it hurts like hell. You never told me your dog was a man-eater.” Nick’s normally husky voice was now a grumble. He twisted his head around, attempting to look at his backside. A circle of blood was spreading outward on the seat of his khaki pants.
“You’re bleeding. Come in the bathroom with me and let me see how bad it is. I’ve got antibiotic ointment and alcohol.”
“Oh no. The only alcohol I’m getting close to is the kind you drink.”
“Just let me look at it.” He followed reluctantly as I pulled him into the adjoining bathroom. I grabbed my robe from the hook on the back of the door and slipped it on. “Dog bites can get infected, but don’t worry. Philip had his teeth cleaned a few weeks ago. Now, take your pants off.”
“No way!”
You were ready to strip them off a few minutes ago, I wanted to say.
“Then pull them down a little so I can see. I am trained in these areas you know.”
“You’re a vet tech, not a doctor. You decided against med school, remember?”
“It’s not that different. At least let me put some antiseptic on it.”
“Uh-uh. This was a bad idea. Let’s get out of here.”
As we passed through the bedroom on our way to the living room, Nick kept his eyes on Philip, as if fearing the little injured dog might suddenly morph into a werewolf.
I gave Nick a quick hug, hoping to placate him. “He’s just scared. He’s not going to hurt you.”
“He just did!”
“Only because you startled him.”
Nick grabbed my arm, pulled me into the hall, and shut the door to the bedroom behind us.
Then he strode down the hallway with me running behind him, trying to make things right. “I’m really sorry. He’s never bitten anyone before.”
Nick gave a rueful laugh. “That makes me feel a lot better.”
“Philip loves everybody.”
“He has an odd way of showing it.”
“You’re taking this too personally.”
“My butt is pretty personal, if you want to know the truth.”
“He’s just a little dog,” I whimpered.
“He’s your dog, Julie.”
Nick was right. And Philip was standing by his woman. That was my fault. I didn’t tell Nick I often slept downstairs too. I’d told Carmen that letting Noche sleep with her was a mistake, but I was just as guilty. Even though Philip had been neutered, he still viewed a strange man in my bed as an interloper. Especially when that man collapsed on top of him.
I stood watching, unable to speak while Nick searched the phone directory and punched in the number of a local cab company. “It’s for the best. I’ll sleep better in a motel.”
“I’m so sorry. What can I do to make it up to you? Please don’t be angry with me.”
Nick’s tight lips softened a little. “I’m not angry, just disappointed. Maybe this was all a mistake.”
Nooo, I cried inside, but I doubted it would do any good for me to get down on all fours, wiggle my tail, and lick his feet so he’d stay. The spell we’d woven was broken, my dream world crumbled.
For the next ten minutes, I sat silent on the sofa while Nick paced, waiting for the taxi that would take him away. At the beep of its horn, a pang of grief shot through my heart, shattering any leftover visions of Nick and me snuggled against each other when the sun came up.
He opened the door and looked over his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Julie. I’ll meet you at the airport tomorrow at ten.”
I hung my head, about to cry, then remembered something. “Wait!” I ran to the door and forced a tube of antibiotic ointment and some bandages into his hand.
Why had I been so foolish to think Nick and I could have a relationship? If Nick couldn’t love my dog, we were doomed. I barely slept the rest of the night.
Philip, meanwhile, snored contentedly on the pillow next to mine.
Chapter Twelve
Ar
ound nine the next morning, I called Carmen, knowing I’d awaken her, but better she find out about Philip from me than from Nick.
Her voice was fuzzy with sleep. “Ju-leeee. How are you? How’s Philip?”
“That’s why I’m calling. About Philip…uh, he’s fine. He’s going to be okay. But there’s something I need to tell you.”
“Is this going to be bad?” Carmen suddenly sounded wide awake.
“Sort of. You see, Philip…he’s…well, he’s a dog.”
Carmen’s laugh tinkled over the phone line. “Of course.” She lowered her voice conspiratorially. “They’re all dogs. When Berto gets the slightest—”
“No, no. You don’t understand. I mean, he’s really a dog. Like Noche and Blanco. Philip is a poodle. A toy poodle.” My confession was met with silence on the other end. “Carmen? Are you there?”
When Carmen began to giggle, I let out the breath I’d been holding. “A dog? Your live-in love is a dog? A real animal-type dog?”
“I’m sorry. It’s just that, Nick…I mean, he thought…”
“Does Nick know?” Her voice had a hint of alarm.
“Yeah, I’m afraid he does.” I didn’t tell her about Philip biting Nick. Might as well let him preserve what dignity he could.
“That’s so exciting! Nick must be happy, too,” Carmen squealed. “I can’t wait to see him. Philip, that is. You can’t leave your little dog in Abilene. Not after surgery. He’ll need his mama. Bring him back with you.”
“What?”
“Bring Philip back to Waco with you today.”
“But—”
“No buts. He’ll be happier. He needs you. I insist.”
“But he’ll need to start aqua therapy soon. To make sure he’ll use the leg. My sister has agreed to do it for me till I get back. She has a pool.”
“So do we. You can use ours.”
She was my boss for the month. And Philip would be happier with me. But I had a strong suspicion Nick wasn’t going to like the idea at all.
As I dressed for the flight back to Waco, all I could think about was how Philip, my longtime love, had come between me and the man of my dreams. Like Nick, I was upset about our sexus interruptus. But getting bit on the butt—painful and embarrassing though it might be—was no reason to rush out into the night and head for the nearest motel. I should have followed my original instincts instead of letting passion rule my brain. I’d committed the one sin I’d vowed never to commit again. I’d fallen in lust, offered my newly chaste treasure to Nick, and what had it gotten me? Humiliation and abandonment.