“You still see her?”
“Haven’t in fifteen years. Ticked me off she did.”
“How was that?”
“She was seeing somebody else, the bitch! I came to her room one night and had to kick the gardener out of her bed before I could get into it.”
“You didn’t!”
“Sad to say, I did, but it was mean-spirited sex, I damned near split her head against the headboard several times. Just didn’t want her any more after that. I’ve been very careful not to get too involved with women since then.”
“Wow.”
“Interesting thing though,”
“What’s that?”
“She liked being called Countessa.”
“Hey, that’s my name.”
“Yeah, well, it suits you, it never did suit her.”
“She must have been very beautiful.”
“Aye, she was. Had three kids and got fat though, so I have no regrets there.”
“And no kids.”
“Not that I know of,” he said with a lift to his brow, “You’re not able, right?”
“Not without hormones of some kind to jump start me again. You want kids?”
“No, absolutely not! I want serenity in my life and I understand that they do not go hand-in-hand.”
“That’s for sure.” I stood up and he began toweling me off, then he lifted me from the tub and dried my feet. Tossing the towel aside, he picked me up and carried me to the bed. “Head banging or slow and easy?” he asked.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and brought his lips to mine for a kiss. “Put yourself inside me and let’s just see what happens.”
“Oh no, you’re all warm and tingly everywhere, I have to enjoy kissing every inch of you first.” He placed me on the soft sheets on the bed that he had already turned down and I watched while he undressed. I had forgotten how impressive his chest was and how tall he was as he moved to cover me. My hand stroked him from his flat stomach up to his neck, fanning out over his heavily furred chest on its way.
“No,” I said, “I’m the guest, so I get to go first.” As he came down on top of me, I grabbed his shoulders and used his momentum to pin him under me. Then I began kissing his throat, his collarbone and his entire chest. Laving his nipples drew coarse moans and when I kissed lower while letting my fingertips toy with the hard tips jutting out of the thick mat, he murmured something I thought was Gaelic.
He moaned and I moved up to cover his mouth, holding his eager hands gripped by mine at his sides. He kept trying to stroke my breasts but I wanted this to be all about him. We were mating with our tongues, his matching the heated intensity of my thrusting one. “God Tessa,” he said, turning his head aside. “Get on me babe, you’re torturing me.”
“I know,” I whispered as my tongue slid down his chest to where I had left off. I swirled my tongue in his navel and began a slow, arduous trek down his torso until I couldn’t avoid the huge mass jutting into my jaw. I slid to the side and worked around his waving pole and kissed his thighs before sucking on his balls.
“Tess!” he hissed. But I paid him no mind. I ran my tongue the length of his cock, from the base, up his velvet foreskin to the purpling crown, then swallowing him whole when I got to the wet, pulsing tip.
His hands broke free and gripped my head and a flood of foreign words came tumbling out of his mouth. I sucked once, drawing firmly and closing my lips completely around him, then twice—with the suction from the third pull I was rewarded with a warm, thick fluid jettisoning into my mouth. I continued to suck, only ever so softly now and even managed to swallow before letting him slide out.
His hand was stroking my hair and he continued to do so as I laid my head on his chest.
“What I want to know is who have you been practicing on. If I am remembering correctly, this was a relatively new skill to you when first we met.”
“Lollipops and ice cream cones. And Sugar Daddy’s on a stick, they last a long, long time.”
He moaned, ending with what could have been a sob.
We lay in silence for a long time, him looking up at the ceiling, me looking over his chest and out the window at the dark night.
Then he turned in to me, wrapped both arms around me and kissed me soundly. While he was kissing me, he ground his penis into my belly and then slid lower to put it between my thighs. He thrust it in and out letting the pressure of my clenched legs make him hard enough so that just moments later when I opened my thighs for him, he slid right into my slick channel. He rocked me softly, gently stroking and rubbing the top ridge of his penis against my smooth mons. My breath became shallow, my eyes lost focus then closed, and then my tongue slid out to wet my lips. A long sigh escaped me and he seemed surprised when I quivered and moaned as if in pain as a series of contractions milked him with the vigor of a closing fist. I knew he was stunned when it went on and on for what seemed like minutes, so was I, when I finally took him with me on the sixth series of clenching spasms. The power of both my release and his was something so wonderful I knew that we’d never forget this moment.
He looked into my face and I opened my eyes and smiled at him, then I fell fast asleep.
Roman lay there for a long time watching her as she slept, his body still in hers. When finally he fell out, he slid across the sheets and went to the bathroom. He went to his closet and searched through the sports coats until he found the box he was looking for, and returned to the bed. He opened the small blue box and took out a tiny ring. While she was sleeping, he gently splayed the fingers of her right hand and placed the ring on her ring finger with the claddagh facing in.
“I love you Tess,” he whispered as he kissed her on the cheek, then he checked his watch on the nightstand to make sure the alarm was set and he slid in beside her. He put his hand on her belly and pulled her to him until her back was snug against his chest. He kissed the back of her neck and fell asleep.
Chapter Thirty-seven
A wonderful surprise Iwoke to the sound of Roman latching his watch on his wrist. I looked over at him standing at the dresser taking things from it and putting them into his pockets. He must have sensed that I was awake as he turned to look at me. My breath caught at how handsome he looked. In his white summer uniform with the epaulets on the shoulders of his short sleeved shirt, tucked into trim, matching white pants set off by a white canvas belt, he looked dreamy. I didn’t know what all the ribbons and pins and medals were that were above his chest pocket, but they completed the package—he was the best looking man in uniform I had ever seen.
My eyes took in his freshly shaved face, his twinkling icy gray eyes and his full lips beaming in a wide smile. His hair, with the white streak just off center, was carefully combed, his widow’s peak well defined. The rest of his hair was black, full and thick and still damp around the edges from his shower. I so wanted him back in bed with me.
“Good morning, what are ya doing up so early?” He came over and kissed me on the forehead.
“Just heard you up is all.”
“Well, go back to sleep, I’ll see you in the early afternoon sometime.”
“Okay,” I mumbled as I turned over and tugged my pillow into a ball under my head, I was not about to argue with him, I was dog-tired.
He slapped my rump and then I heard his footsteps going down the hall.
Four hours later when I woke and remembered where I was, I smiled, stretched and rolled over. Agold glint shined off a finger on my right hand. I blinked my eyes and turned my hand toward me so I could see what was causing the bright gleaming color. I froze with my hand high in the air. There was a ring on my finger that hadn’t been there before. I pulled my hand in, close to my face, and stared at the ring. It was a claddagh. Roman had spoken of one before in the island bar we’d gone to once. Later I’d found one at the jewelry counter at Dillard’s and since then I had seen claddagh earrings and rings on several women. I remembered Roman telling me about the waitress at the bar we’d gone to on my last
visit here and how he’d known how her boyfriend had truly felt about her from the way he had put a claddagh ring on her. Roman had put this one on me, on my right hand, facing in.
I hopped out of bed, realized I was naked, and grabbed Roman’s robe from behind the bathroom door. It smelled of him and I almost fell to my knees from the overpowering pleasure of being ensconced in both his smell and in something so intimate as his robe.
I made my way to the office where I knew he kept his laptop. It was on, in the sleep mode. I hit the space bar and the screen saver came up. So, what else would you think Roman had for a screen saver, I asked myself after I saw it. I had to laugh. One would think ships, steamers, big cruise liners, maybe a tropical beach scene with a palm tree or two, but no . . . he had a four-poster bed front and center, reminiscent of the one we’d had while in Charleston.
I clicked the icon for Internet Explorer, found Google, and typed in Claddagh rings. In a few moments I had my answer: facing in on the right hand means the heart has been captured, that it’s a solid relationship.
I had captured his heart! I jumped up and down and then spun around hugging myself, saying over and over again, “I have his heart, I have his heart. He gave me a ring, he gave me a ring!”
When I had finally calmed down, which really took quite a while since I was so psyched, I closed out Google and Internet Explorer. I looked at the other icons running down the side, wondering what other programs he had on this computer and saw one I was very familiar with—Quick Books. I wondered if that was where he had his business and personal finances. It wouldn’t be nice to pry, I told myself, but I didn’t even make it to the door before turning back. My curiosity is not something to play around with, once intrigued, I rarely let up. Now that I had piqued it, I knew I wouldn’t let it go, better to just give in now. I clicked on the icon and brought up the last file opened. As I scanned the items, I realized it was his personal checking account. I scanned a few entries then looked at the balance: $126,789.45. Who kept that kind of money in their checking account? I moved to the savings or as this one was titled: Money market. It had $4,678,234.13. He had over four million dollars in his money market account? I clicked out; I didn’t even want to know any more. Okay, I would stop trying to pay him back for Amy’s airline ticket. Whew! He sure had made some good investments. I went back to the checking account so I could close things out the way they had been opened. I did not want him to know I was snooping although I was pretty sure he wouldn’t mind, but it would be hard to explain why I had bothered.
I walked into the kitchen and saw a note saying that the coffee pot was ready to turn on and that there was fresh fruit already cut up in the refrigerator along with mango, orange, and tomato juice, and that the bread drawer had bagels, croissants and muffins. For lunch he had already made an eggplant Parmesan sandwich I could take to the beach and there was a whole pitcher of pina coladas along with a plastic sipper cup with a straw that already had some pina colada mixture in it. By the door was a pile of things I might find handy. Beach chairs were already waiting for me on the beach, the cabaña type with hoods. It had been so thoughtful of him to take the time to write such a long note.
I walked over to the pile of things on a bench by the back door and found sunscreen, SPF 50, without PABA of course, Chapstick, an umbrella, two nice big towels, a bag to tote things in and a pair of pink sunglasses with pink flamingos as the arms. I could not wait to get to the beach.
I turned on the coffee pot, toasted a bagel and found some cream cheese to put on it and then I chugged down a glass of mango juice. When the coffee was ready I took it with me to the master bath, had a quick shower and slathered myself with sunscreen. I put on one of my new bikinis, picked out a pair of sandals that matched and a hat to protect my hair. Then I threw a cover up on, grabbed the book I was reading and packed the tote bag full. I was going to the beach!
The cabaña chairs were lovely, very sturdy looking with colorful awnings flapping in the breeze. I knew without a doubt that Roman had purchased them and had them placed there especially for me. I didn’t believe I had ever felt as welcome anyplace as he was making me feel here, with him.
Even though it was barely eleven, I sipped on pina coladas and read my Regency romance. I had no idea how much time had passed as the one thing I hadn’t taken was a watch, but sometime later I looked up and saw Roman a few feet away, his hands in his pockets, watching me. He had a big smile on his face, his white uniform flapping around his legs and arms. I smiled back. He was sooo good looking. And I was getting sooo wasted.
“You look as if you’re having a good time.” “I am. Somebody saw to everything. And look,” I waved the hand with my new ring on it, “a fairy brought this.”
“Well, I’ve been called a lot of things, but never a fairy.”
“Oh, was this from you?” I asked innocently.
“Who else?”
“Well, trabitionalee, damn I really slurred that word, let’s try this again. Traditionally, it’s from someone whose heart has been captured. Have I captured yours, Roman?”
“That you have,” he said with a grin as he sat down beside me on my lounger.
“And this is a serious re-relationship?”
He chuckled at my mispronunciation. “They don’t come much seriouser,” he said, coming down to my level. “Hey, have you eaten your lunch yet or are you just drinking it?”
“Brought it, didn’t eat it yet though.”
“Well, I think you should have a few bites.” He found the sandwich in the tote, unwrapped it and helped me eat.
“So, how was your day dear?” I tried to sound like Julia Roberts inPrettyWomanand had a modicum of success with it. He instantly picked up on it and hooted.
“What no tie to toss over your naked shoulder? Well, I jumped on a ship, then got off, got on another, then got off, did some paperwork and jumped on and off two more ships, then I signed out and came home.”
“So, it’s cocktail time for you.”
“You have it half right.”
I looked up at him with a confused look on my face. He started undoing his belt and pulling down his zipper.
“Ohhhh.”
“Umm hmm, you’re not so blonde, you figured it out.”
I watched as he stripped off all his clothes. “Isn’t there a law about being naked on the beach?”
“It’s my beach, and the only way here is by boat.”
“I saw a few wind surfers.”
“It takes everything you have to keep one of those things up so I don’t think you have to worry about anyone windsurfing using binoculars.”
“What does it take to keep one of these things up?” I asked, leaning up and stroking my finger along his erection.
“You, it seems. Just you.” He grabbed my ankles, pulled me down to the edge of the chair and tugged off my bikini bottom. Then he pushed me onto my back and put my legs up over his shoulders. He was nuzzling at me while I pounded on his shoulders and said, “No, no, I’ve been out in the hot sun for hours, I’m all sweaty.”
“Hasn’t anyone ever told you that there are luscious, sweet pheromones in a woman’s sweat? It excites a man to smell a woman sweating.”
“I don’t care. No kissing down there, and I mean it.”
He put my legs down, stripped off my bra top and threw me over his shoulder. Walking me down to the beach, me pounding his back again, he said, “Well then, I guess I’ll just have to wash you.”
I was unceremoniously dumped into the cool, crystal clear water. I was lucky I managed to keep my hat and sunglasses on.
“Oh, you’re going to need those,” he said as I adjusted the glasses on my face, “as you’re going to be prone like this for quite some time.”
I felt him splashing water between my legs, making washing motions with his hands up and down my thighs, over my entire labia and even running fingers along my bottom crack. “Okay, all clean.”
He lowered himself into the water, spread my legs around his n
eck and pulled me to his mouth. A second later, he stood and spat, “Too salty. My doctor says I need to watch my salt intake. I’m afraid I’m just going to have to fuck you instead.” He stood, grabbed his long, pulsing penis and shoved it inside me.
He was right, I was prone like that for a long time and it was both delightful and incredible. While he stood in the waist-high water, my legs straddling his hips, he was able to easily pull me in and push me away with minimal effort. The occasional wave splashing over me kept me cool even though his eyes on me kept me hot. “Uh, oh,” he said once, “there’s a wind surfer, should I call him over and let him watch?”
I knew he was jerking my chain so I said, “Why not?” Then I practically came out of my skin when he began waving. I looked over and he laughed. There was no one for as far as you could see.
When he sped up it was incredible, not only could he move me very fast, but the action of the water with each inward thrust sent water rippling over my womanly parts, keeping me tingly. I was panting, I was so aroused. “This is like being fucked and using a vibrator all at the same time,” I said.
“Lucky you,” he whispered, his breath getting ragged. “Let’s add this to the mix then.”
As he bent to take a nipple into his mouth, his thumb entered my bottom and I shattered.
“I want to wash you with my cum,” he said and pulled out just in time to spew copious amounts of semen on my chest and belly. Looking up I was able to see the expression on his face as he pumped his penis, forcing out every drop. His jaw was hard, his eyes tightly closed and his neck was straining. Looking up, I could see that every muscle on his body was tightly clenched as he forced his seed onto me. The second it was over, I watched everything go loose like a rubber band snapping back into place. He lovingly rubbed his essence all over my breasts and torso then he fell to his knees in the sand and allowed his whole body to go underwater. I, of course, was no longer floating or being held up and I went under too. I grabbed for my hat and sunglasses as my head went under, letting the current take me where it willed. We played and frolicked until he became worried about my skin. “You’re getting pink and I like your lily-white skin just as it is, so let’s get you back.”
The Widows of Sea Trail-Tessa of Crooked Gulley Page 20