His Wife

by Ashley Hastings

  I couldn't stop looking into his eyes.

  I shook myself and pulled free. I was just embarrassing myself. What was wrong with me? I glanced around and saw Michael storm off in a huff, and the other diners returned to their meals now that the show was over. I looked at my savior who smiled at me with ease and apparent amusement. Despite myself, I smiled back.

  "I'm sorry. You just looked so miserable and trapped sitting there with that idiot, and then I heard him insisting on rubbing your back. I could tell you weren't interested. I decided to step in and rescue you. I hope I wasn't too out of line?"

  "Oh – Oh, right! Of course. Thank you!" Flustered still, I grabbed my purse and started to leave, tripping over my feet, the picture of awkwardness. His smile grew bigger.

  "Can I buy you a drink? I would love to hear the story of why you were dining with that dumbass."

  "Oh, uh. Sure. I would like that." I kept stumbling over my words.

  Feeling stupid, I took the arm he offered me, and we started toward the hotel bar. God, he even smelled great. I needed to pull myself together at once before I did something humiliating, like sniffed him, or took all my clothes off.

  Soon we sat down at a small table off to the side. Two roses in a simple vase decorated the marble surface, and classical music played in the background. The room was dark and, except for the lovely music, quiet, and the stranger's attention was entirely on me. The server had to clear his throat more than once to get our attention as we stared into each other's eyes.

  "What would you like to drink, Darby?" I realized he knew my name, thanks to Michael, but I didn't know what to call him in return.

  I hesitated. I had only been legally able to drink for about two months, so I wasn't sure what would be appropriate to order. I knew nothing of wine and wasn't much of a drinker, anyway. My drinking experience was limited to a few silly drinks like Sex on the Beach, or a shot of vodka. College stuff. Usually, I wouldn't care so much, but this man exuded sophistication, and I wanted to meet him on his level.

  The two men were still looking at me, waiting for my answer.

  "White wine, please."

  The stranger ordered a whiskey, neat, and the server left us.

  "I'm sorry; I don't even know how I wound up at this table with you." Not my wittiest of moments, but at least I was speaking in complete sentences again.

  "I should be the one apologizing. I crashed your date with your young man, and whisked you away without so much as an introduction." He smiled wryly and loosened his silk tie.

  "Young man?" I laughed, charmed by his formal manners. "You make yourself sound so terribly ancient." I didn't have a daddy complex, and he wasn't that much older, I did not think, anyway, but if a daddy complex got me a man like him, sign me up, please. He was yummy.

  "Not very ancient really, but to you..." He trailed off.

  "I'm twenty-one. Fully grown."

  He smiled again, and this time it was a tired smile. His smile told me he had lived a life, and he knew things about the world I did not.

  "I'm forty-two, an old man compared to you, and my name is Nathan Randolph." For the first time, I noticed a hint of a Southern drawl to his words, as warm and vibrant as the whiskey placed before him by the silent server.

  "Darby Turner."

  "Pleased to meet you, Darby Turner." We shook hands formally, reaching across the table, both smiling at the silliness of it all, seeing as we had already kissed, more or less.

  Silence descended again, but it wasn't uncomfortable like it frequently was during my dinner with Michael. I sipped my wine and savored the peace I was experiencing with Nathan.

  "What brings you to New York?" Nathan regarded me with interest and traced one finger around the rim of his glass. I found the movement sexy and mesmerizing. I wondered what it would feel like if he touched me like that.

  "I just graduated from the University of Maine, after finishing up my last few courses in the first summer session. My mom asked me to meet her to celebrate my achievement, and I guess to figure out where I'm going from here. Of course, she ditched me for work right off the bat and left me with Michael, so it hasn't been much of a celebration so far." I took another sip of wine. "Do you live here? I detect a little bit of an accent."

  He rewarded me with another smile.

  "I live in southern Mississippi, actually. I'm here on business. My company makes shotguns and rifles, among other things. I had a series of meetings with clients here in the city." He shifted his big frame in his seat, and his foot fell against mine. I shivered a little, and his eyes dropped to my lips. He pressed his legs closer to mine, and my shivers gave way to a tidal wave of heat that swept me from head to toe. I had never experienced anything like this attraction I was feeling right now.

  As the evening wore on, we ordered another drink and yet another, and I relaxed and finally began to speak with ease. We chatted about everything and nothing at the same time.

  I had been on dates before, of course. Nothing exciting, but I didn't sit in my dorm room feeling like a lonely loser or anything. This guy, however, this man, was something new. I couldn't get enough of him.

  "Have you been to New York before?" His voice was low and smooth, hypnotic.

  I shook my head.

  "Well, I have. Many, many times. So I think I must show you some of the city, especially since I cut your date short." He threw some money on the table and stood up.

  "Now?" I rose to my feet and managed not to stumble this time.

  "Now." He held out his hand, and I eagerly succumbed to those dark, dark eyes. I knew I wanted to go wherever he wanted to lead me.

  Two

  I didn't know where we were going, nor did I care. True, I had never been to New York City before, so I should be gawking at the crazy traffic, and staring in awe at the immense buildings. I had wanted to see the city for years, ever since reading an E.L. Konigsburg book about the Metropolitan Museum of Art in the sixth grade. I had a list of places I wanted to visit, experiences I wanted to collect. However, at this moment all I wanted to do was look at Nathan.

  He hailed a cab at the curb and opened the door for me with a flourish that made me giggle. Great. Now I sounded even younger than I was. Nathan had already made it clear that he thought I was a mere infant, but that is not how I wanted him to view me. I wanted him to look at me as if I was a desirable woman, someone he needed in his life.

  Unfortunately, I had no idea how to be desirable. My dating experience was limited to evenings like the one I had just shared with Michael. No romance, no spark, no motivation for me to explore my sexuality. I had never really met a man who inspired real attraction. Now that I had met Nathan, I realized I had never really met a man before. I had only known boys.

  Our taxi dropped us in front of the Empire State Building, and we went straight to the top, no waiting. Never mind that there were crowds of tourists waiting to make the ascent. Nathan slipped the employees some folded money, and the doors opened wide for us.

  Once outside on the top of the building I gazed stunned at the panorama laid out before me. The lights were almost overwhelming. Traffic flowed far below on the busy streets, headlights running together to form a river of lights all around us. I knew I would never forget this moment or this man.

  "On a clear night, you can see eighty miles." Nathan put his suit jacket over my shoulders, and I felt like a cherished little girl. He wrapped his arms around me tightly from behind. The wind whipped busily through our hair, and despite the summer evening, there was a chill in the air. "It's not clear tonight. It looks like a storm is coming."

  I looked up as I hugged his arms to me. Sure enough, dark, ominous clouds were building, scudding across the sky in front of us like sailing ships. In the distance, I could see flashes of lightning, and I heard a rumble of thunder. Suddenly I felt the weight of the evening pressing on me, and I sagged in Nathan's arms and clutched him closer.

  “Should we be up here if there is lightning?” Despite my words,
I felt safe in his arms.

  "Don't be afraid. Lightning hits this building all the time, but it is still ways off. We'll be long gone before there is any danger." He rubbed my arms to reassure me.

  “Look over that way.” He pointed. “That’s Central Park. You see?”

  I nodded. He continued to point out different landmarks as we turned in a slow circle. I stayed in his arms the whole time, and I was more focused on his touch than the amazing view stretching out all around us.

  His arms were strong, holding me and keeping me safe. I wanted to stay here with him forever.

  "This is amazing. Thank you for bringing me here." I turned around to face him without dislodging his grip on me. He kissed me again, and although the kiss was brief, I could feel the intense passion. I couldn't get enough of his kisses. I wanted to drown in all of these new sensations. But my stomach growled, embarrassing me.

  He laughed when I dropped my hand to my stomach in surprise.

  "Ready to go already? I noticed you really didn't eat earlier. Let's go grab a bite to eat."

  He was right. I hadn't eaten more than an appetizer because I had kept hoping my mother would show up and rescue me from boring Michael. Add my three glasses of wine to that appetizer, and now I was starving. Honestly, however, I was willing to go wherever he wanted to lead me.

  “I would love to go eat somewhere. Michael really killed my appetite earlier.” We both laughed at that, but it was true.

  We hopped in another taxi.

  The silence between us felt relaxed and okay, but I didn’t trust the feeling. I was afraid Nathan might think I was a boring companion.

  “So, where are we going to eat?” Ok, not my best effort, but I wanted to try to get the conversation going again. He did not reply, but he turned to face me. His expression was hard to make out in the dark.

  As the cab slowly made its way through the crowded streets, Nathan leaned closer. His natural scent overwhelmed me. There was a hint of cologne and fabric softener and whiskey, but there was something else below the surface that made my heart beat accelerate. I looked up at him, and he was staring at me with that intensity he carried around with him. I shivered again, and he put his arm around me. It felt like the most natural thing in the world to lean into his embrace. I wasn't thinking about how we barely knew each other, or my lack of experience. I for sure wasn't thinking about the cab driver just inches away. I was only thinking about holding him close, and the feeling of safety I had now that I was in his arms.

  Nathan's lips descended on mine. He took his time, savored each caress. He rained soft, gentle kisses down on me, first on my lips, then on the tip of my nose, my cheeks, and on my forehead. He leaned his forehead against mine, and for a long moment, we just held each other and breathed the same air. He hadn't spoken since we entered the cab, but now I relaxed and just listened to his soft breathing.

  Abruptly the mood changed. Nathan crashed his mouth down on mine, ignoring my surprised whimper. The force behind the kiss surprised me with its violence. But then his tongue teased my lips, demanding entrance. Not that I had a single thought of resisting him. I was more than ready. His tongue slid against mine, teasing me even more. The sensations were tantalizing. We tasted each other, completely caught up in the moment. One hand had been cupping my face tenderly. Now it slid down to my breast and squeezed, kneading my flesh with an urgency that was new to me. I pressed even closer to him, wanting something. What I wanted precisely I didn't know. I whimpered again, helpless in this strange and new need, and wrapped my arms around him.

  Nathan's hand left my breast and went to the front buttons of my dress. He quickly undid the first five buttons, exposing the white lace of my bra. He paused and looked at the limited amount of flesh he had revealed. His breathing was heavy, which struck me because I could scarcely draw a breath. His hand pulled the cups of my bra down so that my breasts rested on top of my clothing. Fully exposed now, I knew I needed to stop this. If the cab driver looked in his rear mirror, he would see my partial nakedness. I blushed at the thought, but I did not care.

  He sat back just a little from me and gazed at my breasts as if I was a rare work of art. The look in his warm eyes was unmistakable. He liked what he saw, and I did not need to feel ashamed or to cover myself. His eyes said I was beautiful, and I was awestruck by that realization. Still, we were in public. Shouldn't I protest at least a little?

  "Nate. We can't do this..." I don’t know why I started calling him Nate, but it felt right. We had only known each other a few hours, but it already seemed much longer.

  "Hush. Stop talking." We spoke in low murmurs, as if in church. I certainly felt worshiped. His eyes never left my body, and now he palmed my bare breast and continued squeezing. The heat of his hand made my skin come alive. His calloused fingers stroked my nipple, and I shuddered, out of control in my desire. He dipped his head, put my nipple in his mouth, and sucked hard. At the same time, his hand pushed up under the hem of my dress and grasped me at the apex of my thighs as if he owned me. It felt like he did. A few strokes across my clit over my panties and I came hard, so hard I gasped and moaned aloud.

  Now I was the one panting, struggling to catch my breath. I had never had an orgasm that was not of my making. I had never allowed a man to touch me so intimately. The sensations had overcome me with such a swiftness; I guess I should be embarrassed at how fast I came. I had no regrets, however. I did not even feel ashamed when I opened my eyes and saw the driver grinning from ear to ear, still staring straight ahead at the snarl of traffic surrounding us.

  Nathan’s clenched jaw seemed to be made of granite, and he wasn’t looking me in the eyes. He pulled my bra back up and pushed back from me. I could see the outline of his impressive erection through his pants. I wanted to touch him, to explore his body as he had just explored mine, but his sudden withdrawal gave me pause. Did I do something wrong?

  "Button your dress, for God's sake." He turned to stare out of the window, and I shakily pulled my clothing back together. Was he disappointed in me? I had no experience to draw from here, and now I was afraid I had messed up in some way.

  A long moment passed. The only sounds were from outside the taxi, the hustle and bustle of New York City going by, mostly unnoticed by the occupants of the vehicle. Finally, Nathan blew out a long breath and looked sideways at me. He smiled wryly.

  "I'm sorry. That was inexcusable. I don't know how I lost control like that, so quickly, so completely." He reached out a large hand and ran a finger down my cheek, taking his time. "You deserve so much better."

  "You don't know me. You don't know what I deserve." My voice sounded husky and unfamiliar, even to my ears.

  "I know you, sweetheart. I've known you since I first laid eyes on you back at the hotel." He lunged across the seat, and pulled me into a tight embrace. His movement was so sudden I was taken by surprise. "I want you, but I want more than some quick bang in the back of a cab. I intended to show you a good time tonight, not attack you at first opportunity."

  Startled, I gaped at him. I couldn't help but think that being attacked by Nathan was my new definition of a good time.

  He smiled and used one finger to close my mouth. Then he kissed me. His lips were soft and lingered on mine, and my heart pounded all over again. "Let's go have some more fun."

  NATHAN TOOK US TO A small restaurant with great views of the East River. We laughed and talked over our meal, conversing with the ease of old friends. The wine flowed as smoothly as our conversation.

  “How often do you come to New York?” I glanced at Nathan as I spoke, and he laughed. He reached across the table and speared one of my shrimp with his fork.

  “I sometimes have to travel for work, but I prefer to stay at home in Mississippi. I grew up on an old southern plantation named Peacock Alley, and to this day I would rather be there than anywhere else." He popped the shrimp into his mouth, and then offered me a bite of his steak.

  "A plantation? I thought those places only existed
as museums, or in history books. How old are we talking about?" I was intrigued by the images that came to mind, and I wanted to know more.

  "It was a little boy's dream to grow up there. The house was finished in 1822 and was originally on over 75,000 acres. Members of my family have lived there since the beginning, and although a large chunk of the land was sold after the Civil War to keep the family afloat financially, I still own 9,000 acres. I ran wild as a kid." He grinned. "There are lakes and ponds and fields and fallen trees...giant oaks to climb. All that nature means there were always frogs to catch, and deer to spook. It is a wonder I survived. I was always busy playing."

  "You must have given your mother fits." I laughed and took another bite of potato.

  "Absolutely. I was always coming home muddy or covered in bug bites. I'm sure she thought she was raising a little savage." He cut his steak, wrinkling his nose. "I didn't have any brothers or sisters, but I really wasn't lonely. I had a good friend named Maxwell who played with me all the time, and I had too much to do to worry about loneliness. Most of the land that was sold after the war was later developed into Arkabutla Lake, which is massive. It is 80,000 acres in the dry season, twice that when it is rainy. It is a man-made lake, constructed during the depression to reduce flooding in the area and to give men jobs so they could feed their families when unemployment was so high. I didn't care about any of that as a child, of course. It just gave me another playground to rule over, although I kept that a secret from my mother. She wouldn't have liked me playing that far away from the house."

  He continued talking, telling me about the long, curving drive flanked by live oaks, and the many outbuildings. Once the fields had contained cotton, and later, soybeans. Now there were thousands of mature pecan trees still in full production, and the land around it was cut three times a year for hay. His descriptions were so vivid; I could easily picture it all in my head.