by Sheryl Lynn
“We’ve changed. I’ve changed.” She spoke with all the conviction she could muster, but still the words tasted like a lie. In light of the facts that his kisses sent her soaring and his smile reduced her to quivering weakness, it seemed precious little had changed.
“Twelve years, a hundred, it doesn’t matter. I’ll never stop wanting you. We belong together and you know it. You wouldn’t be so mad at me if you didn’t care.”
Would one time hurt? she wondered, gazing helplessly at him, trapped by the truths in his impassioned speech. Seeing him bloodied and bruised caused her physical pain—she did care. Perhaps sex—not lovemaking!—would clear him out of her system. Her memories of him had been colored by time, most likely enhanced. The man standing before her now could not live up to the fantasies created by adolescent passion.
“I don’t love you anymore.” She noted no change in his expression, no flicker of dismay or flash of anger. Instead, he grinned crookedly, his calm demeanor at odds with the harshness of his breathing.
Now was the time to walk away. Sex was highly overrated anyway; she didn’t need it. A twelve-year dry spell hadn’t done her any harm. In fact, a celibate life enhanced her creativity. She steeled herself to march past him, pick up her purse and leave his cluttered apartment She would erase him from her memory banks. She wouldn’t think about him or dream about him or sit staring into space, lost in the memories of what used to be. No more.
She lifted her chin. His fetching mouth, so perfectly shaped and sensual hammered at her resolve.
A goodbye kiss, just one, and it would be the last one. The final kiss, the final farewell. She’d walk out of his life and that would be that
She walked boldly into his arms. His eyebrows lifted and even his swollen eye seemed to glint with anticipation. She opened her mouth to say farewell forever, but he covered her mouth with his and she was lost again, swept away by the enveloping sensuality of his touch.
He felt so good. His skin was smooth and supple. She kissed and kissed him, delighting in the powerful thrusts of his tongue and the contrasting textures of his slick teeth and soft lips. He worked her shirt free of her skirt His hot hands shocked her back. She arched her spine as a groan slipped from her throat
Frightened anew by her lack of control, she twisted her face from his. “I can’t do this. No…I can’t…I don’t have any birth control.”
He nuzzled her ear. “I’m not a stupid kid anymore, Tink.” He urged her to follow him out of the kitchen. As if a massive short circuit had occurred between her reasonable mind and her treacherous body, she stumbled along behind him through the living room and into the bedroom.
“I can’t, Easy,” she said, pleading more with herself than with him. ‘It isn’t right.”
He left her standing at the foot of the bed. It had been neatly made and covered with a cotton throw striped in blue, orange and red. He’d grown tidy, no longer flinging clothes into piles on the floor or ignoring overflowing waste cans. He entered the bathroom and soon returned. He showed her a box of condoms.
“I won’t hurt you,” he said. “Never again.”
She met his earnest gaze and knew she’d been undone. She swiped the back of her hand over her hot face. Breathing hurt; her joints ached. Only his touch could soothe her. He offered the sexual protection as if it were a gift, straight from his heart to hers. She licked her lips, noting how hungrily he followed the path of her tongue. The flames of desire flickered hotter.
“I need you, Tink.” His voice husked in urgent sincerity. “I didn’t know how much I missed you until I found you again. Let’s start over, you and me. I promise, I swear I’ll never hurt you again.”
She rested her knee on the bed. Catercorner from her, he mimicked her action. The mattress dipped with his weight She hated wanting him so much.
Needing him.
Knock him out of your system, that wicked inner voice taunted. Go ahead, squash the fantasy and make him go away. Bed him and forget him, or he’ll be like a splinter in your thumb you just can’t reach.
She reached for him and he reached for her. Entwined in each other’s arms they fell onto the mattress. Easy sucked in a sharp gasp, harsh with pain.
Horrified, she knew she’d forgotten his wounds. “I’m sorry!”
He grinned, his good eye sparkling. “Kiss it and make me feel better.”
She tentatively, cautiously kissed his swollen eyelid. He quivered beneath her. “You need that ice pack.” She needed him, skin to skin, out of her increasingly uncomfortable clothing. Her bra felt as if it had shrunk two cup sizes in the past few minutes. Her panties threatened to cut her in half.
“Later.” He snaked a hand beneath her shirt. As if reading her mind, he deftly unhooked her bra. Freed of restraint, her breasts burned with heaviness, her nipples tantalized by the loosened lace rubbing against their hardness. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured and caught her throat in a wet, lusty kiss that drove her wild.
Twelve years dropped away, vanished as if they’d never happened. As he peeled away her clothing and she peeled away his, the thick weave of the cotton throw against her bare skin swept her back in time to a plaid blanket on a cushion of pine needles. To a time of innocent love when she believed her passion was the first passion, the only passion to have ever existed. His warm, heady scent curled throughout her body, touching and igniting every nerve fiber. She came up for air and stared in wonder at the naked length of him, his dusky skin barely dusted with body hair, his muscles taut in alluring relief. Sunlight through the curtains striped him in gold, highlighting his purely masculine shapeliness.
A single thought whirled through her brain, driving coherency away, He’s mine.
In wonder, she brushed her fingertip over the diamond-shaped birthmark on his hip. He’d grown, his chest had deepened, but his belly was flat and his hips were lean. Recognition tingled through her. In turn, he laid a hand flat on her belly where pale stretch marks scarred her flesh. She cringed in embarrassment and pushed his hand away. She suddenly wanted to be under the covers, away from his eyes.
“Don’t hide from me, baby,” he whispered. He held her down gently with one arm and pressed a sweet kiss to her scarred belly. Her embarrassment faded.
When he came to her, covered her, embraced her with the full measure of his love, she met him thrust for thrust, movement for movement, knowing without thinking how to please him and please herself. He spoke to her of love and longing and forever, and every whispered word she believed with all her heart. Then he shuddered, a delicious rippling from head to toe. A surprised groan slipped from his lips. She opened her eyes, and saw his clenched jaw and the cords standing out on his neck, knowing he could not wait and not wanting him to wait She arched her back, straining to meet him, urging him on. Her own release caught her completely off guard. She cried out and dug her heels so roughly into his thighs, he squirmed in discomfort.
“Damn.” He stared down at her face, managing to look both stunned and supremely pleased. He panted through his mouth. His arms trembled.
“Oh, Easy,” she murmured, but could say no more. Waves of receding pleasure occupied her. Feminine fullness held her fast, pinned beneath his weight, reveling in the feel of him, the smell of him, the taste of him filling her soul. The sweet release of emotion weighted her limbs.
From a distance, a telephone rang. The noise seemed to increase with each insistent ring. Finally Easy turned a baleful glare on the bedside table. He made no move to answer, and the telephone stopped ringing. She touched his face, tracing the lines of maturity around his mouth and the hard edges along cheek and chin that had replaced his youthful beauty. A fainter ringing began, muffled as if from beneath a pile of cloth.
He muttered a colorful obscenity and eased away from her. Their skin clung, melded by sweaty heat. She wanted to roll with him, keeping the contact, but failed to muster the energy necessary to hold him. Sighing, she watched from beneath languid eyelids as he struggled upright to sit on the e
dge of the bed. She admired his back. She could happily spend the rest of her life doing nothing but sketching pictures of his beautiful back.
“Oops,” he said.
Alarmed by his soft uttering, she forced her eyes all the way open. “Oops? Oops, what?”
He glanced over his shoulder. “Uh…” He held up the used prophylactic. It hung limply, shredded like a popped balloon. “It broke.”
She stared at his hand, refusing to believe this was happening. “This is a joke, right? Right?”
He grimaced, holding the broken condom as if it burned his fingers. “Well, I guess it’s kind of old.”
“Old!” She jerked into a sitting position. She snatched up a pillow to cover her naked breasts. “What do you mean it’s old? How could you?”
“Hey, it’s not like I catch fast action every weekend.”
She noticed then the stickiness between her thighs, the hot melting of their mingled fluids. An unmistakable scent wafted to her nose. Salty and erotic, the scent of life.
Her belly clenched into a tight little knot. On her knees, she doubled over, her fists clenched to her abdomen. She rocked against the pillow. “If I’m pregnant, Earl Zebulon Martel, I will kill you. I will chop you into tiny little chunks and feed you to my dogs.”
He drew away from her and stood, shoving the evidence of his irresponsibility behind him. “You’ve turned bloodthirsty in your old age, Tink.”
His lame joke infuriated her. “This isn’t funny!”
“It’s not the end of the world. Come on, you must have had some whoopsies before and nothing happened.”
“Only with you, you idiot. I’ve never slept with anyone else.”
His eyebrows reached for the ceiling. She could swear his chest puffed up with pride. A faint smile confirmed his arrogant male posturing. “Just me?” he asked. “Really?”
Growling, she threw the pillow with all her might. He ducked in time to keep it from hitting his wounded eye.
Tinny ringing from the other room distracted them both. “It’s my cell phone. I have to get that. Don’t go anywhere.” He hurried out of the room.
She gaped at his bare behind, furious at herself for daring to find those high, tight buttocks sexy. Clutching her hair in both hands, she pulled until it hurt. “Stupid, idiot, dumb, stupid!”
W“HERE IN THE WORLD are you?” Trish demanded. Her voice rang high-pitched with concern.
Remembering his appointment with his sister and John Tupper, Easy winced. “I’m at home.”
“I called your place. You didn’t answer. John and I are waiting for you. What’s going on?”
“I had a little…run-in with some unsavory types. I’ll tell you all about it in person.” With the reminder, his side ached. He glared down at the swollen bruise on his hip. He could make out the shape of a steel-reinforced work-boot toe. No-neck, he determined, had better grow eyes in the back of his head.
Carrying the phone, he returned to the bedroom only to find Catherine jerking on her clothing. Her clumsy agitation and her refusal to look at him alarmed him. He’d lost her once because of stupidity, he wasn’t about to make the same mistake twice. He waggled a hand at her, warning her not to go. “Go to the Denny’s across from my office,” he told Trish. “I’ll be there as quick as I can.”
“What kind of run-in? What are you talking about?”
“I’ll tell you when I see you. I won’t be long. I promise. I gotta go.” Without waiting for her reply, he closed the unit, disconnecting the telephone. “Tink, hold on.” With her almost dressed and him buck naked, he felt at a disadvantage. He found his briefs on the floor.
“I have to go home.” Her filmy skirt tangled around her feet and she fell heavily back on the bed.
“You are not running away from me.”
At that her head snapped up and she froze with the skirt halfway up her legs. “I have to go home,” she repeated, each icy word clipped.
He pulled up his underwear. Keeping an eye on her to make sure she didn’t bolt, he opened the closet and reached for a pair of jeans. “We have a lot to discuss.”
“We have nothing to discuss. It’s over. You accomplished your mission. Jeffrey and I are through. Even if I could forgive his lies, I can’t forgive myself for cheating on him. But you and I are through, too. You—”
“Chicken! You’re scared.”
She flinched as if he slapped her. Hot spots marked her cheeks. “I am not scared of you.” She leaped to her feet and jerked the skirt up to her waist. With short, awkward jabs, she tucked in her shirt.
“You’re scared of something. Me, you, who the hell knows. All I know is, you’re not running out on me again.”
Her chin and lower lip trembled. His heart ached for her as he imagined the terrors of being sixteen, alone, pregnant and feeling as if no one loved her, no one cared. Of having to live each day of the past twelve years with the knowledge of losing a child.
“I never ran out on you,” she said in a small, uncertain voice. “You ran out on me. You disappeared. You ran away to join the army and left me all alone.”
“Damn it, Tink, you know I loved you. You know I would have gone to the moon for you. But you wouldn’t take my calls, you refused to see me. You never gave me a chance to say I was sorry. You never gave me the chance to take responsibility for the baby. What did you want me to do? Commit hari-kari on your front lawn?”
She pressed the back of a hand hard against her mouth. Rapid blinking showed her fighting tears.
“I didn’t run away. In my letters, I was trying to show you I was man enough to love you. When I came home from basic training, I was going to ask you to marry me.” He turned toward the dresser and jerked open the top drawer. Beneath his underwear lay a tiny box he’d been carrying around for twelve years. He tossed it to her.
Her movements uncertain, she opened the box, revealing a thin gold band decorated with a diamond chip. It had cost him three months’ pay.
“I got that for you. I thought you’d realize I was grownup and could take care of you. It backfired. I’m sorry as hell that it did, but I’m not sorry about my intentions.”
She covered her face with both hands and bent over, her elbows on her knees. Fearing if he said anything else, she’d burst into tears, he focused on getting dressed. His chest ached with unaccustomed emotions. No wonder he’d never fallen in love with another woman—it hurt too much. He took a chance and entered the bathroom. When he finished cleaning up and combing his hair, he hesitated with his hand on the doorknob. He felt certain Catherine would be gone.
To his relief, she still sat on the bed. Now calm, her expression neutral, she brushed her shining hair. “You’re right,” she said simply.
He transferred his wallet and keys from his trousers to his jeans. “Right about what?”
“About me…running away.” She slid a melancholy glance at the messy bed behind her and the now-closed jewelry box. “I don’t know what’s happening with me anymore. I think I’m losing my mind. I’m scared.”
He offered his hand.
She ignored it as she stood. Head down, avoiding looking at him, she sighed. “It’s not your fault about the condom. Accidents happen. You’re right, probably no harm will come of this.”
Dread prickled his neck and spine. “Wait…”
“I can’t see you anymore, Easy. What just happened…happened. It was a fluke, a moment of weakness.” She finally lifted her gaze to him. Her beautiful blue eyes held a galaxy of sorrow. “I’m not the kind of person who cheats. But I run into you again, and bam, I’m an adulteress.”
“You’re being ridiculous—”
“I am not! I didn’t think I was so weak, but apparently I am.” She shook her head so hard she set her hair swinging like a golden curtain. “I’m breaking off my engagement with Jeffrey. I’ll give him back his ring and that will be that You won’t have to worry about me anymore.” She fished her car keys out of her purse. “Goodbye, Easy.”
He caught her
arm, then like the man who held the tiger by the tail, wondered what to do next. She glowered up at him. He sought arguments to make her stay, to convince her to reconsider and be reasonable. He offered his best, for now. “You have to give me a ride. My car is at the office.”
“Turn me loose.”
He dropped his hand. “Trish is waiting for me. That was her on the phone. I need to go.”
She wavered, her brow furrowed. “Oh, all right.”
He curled his lips over his teeth, biting back further speech. Until he knew exactly the right words to say, he couldn’t risk setting her off.
Not speaking tortured him during the long, silent ride back to his office. She handled the Blazer as if she were a ship’s captain caught in a treacherous storm. She focused straight ahead, kept both hands on the wheel and never spared him so much as a glance.
Before she reached the parking lot entrance, he pointed across the street. “I’m meeting Trish at Denny’s.”
Without a word, she maneuvered into the left lane. In the restaurant parking lot, she put the transmission in Park and sat in stony silence, waiting for him to leave.
“Come in with me, Tink. Trish has John Tupper with her. You should meet him.”
“No.”
“He can give you some insights about Livman.”
“I don’t need insights. Jeffrey and I are through.”
He shoved open the door. “At least come in and say hello to Trish. You two were friends in high school. Do you want her thinking you’re a snob?”
She turned her head slowly. Her glower was deep and dark, burning so fiercely his skin itched. “I know your tricks, Easy. You push and push and push until you get what you want Not this time. I mean it, I don’t want to see you again. I don’t want you calling me. You stay away from my house.”
He grunted. “I can’t believe you’d let a murderer walk just because you’re mad at me.”
She slammed the heels of her hands against the steering wheel. “I don’t believe Jeffrey is a murderer.”
“That’s because you won’t listen.” He glanced at the restaurant, knowing Trish would be counting the seconds she had to wait for him. He also knew she would pitch a fit when he turned up with a battered face. “Look, I’ll make you a deal. Talk to John, listen to what he has to say. Then I swear, I will leave you alone.”