by Peggy Bird
He slipped the tie down around her neck and said, “Voila.”
While he undid the knot and removed the tie, she blinked so she could focus. He’d led her to the bathroom, not the bedroom. The overhead light was off. In the huge claw foot tub she’d never used, opting for the stall shower, he had drawn a bath and filled it with bubbles. Around the room, on the shelf above the sink and the windowsill, on the radiator and the back of the toilet, were candles—maybe a dozen of them—each one in a glass vessel, cup or vase of some sort so the light from the candles glowed through the glass in jewel-like colors. Looking more closely at several vessels, Shannon could see the candles didn’t quite match the elegance of the candleholders but it hardly mattered.
“Oh, Leo, it’s beautiful. Did you make all those candleholders?”
“Yeah, experimental stuff, some from years ago. Sorry I couldn’t find nice candles, they’re mostly the ones I have in case of a power failure but … ”
“It doesn’t matter. The light through your glass is gorgeous.”
“Thanks.” He looked almost embarrassed by her praise. “I thought you should soak for a while, relax, let some of the last few hours go. Then I’ll wash your hair and give you a massage.”
She began to tear up. “No one’s ever done anything like this for me before.”
“Hey, no tears. This was supposed to make you happy. You deserve pampering after the soap opera evening you had.” He pulled at the bottom of her shirt to get it out from the waistband of her skirt. “Let’s get you undressed and into the water before it cools off any more.”
She noticed he was taking his time with the buttons on her shirt. The object seemed to be getting the shirt unfastened without touching her. “You’re being awfully careful with the unbuttoning,” Shannon said.
“If I’m not careful, this lovely spa scene will go completely to waste because I will have hauled you off to bed.”
She laughed. “Will we end up there for my massage?”
“That’s the plan.” He had her shirt off and was working on the front hook of her bra. “I didn’t really think this through about undressing you, did I? Maybe you better finish it up yourself.” He dropped the bra.
As her eyes followed her bra to the ground, she could see a bulge in the front of his jeans, the reason he wanted her to take over. She leaned into him and kissed him gently. “I’ll take it from here. But I’ll need a hand to get into the tub.”
Leo groaned. “Helping a beautiful naked woman into the tub. You’re killing me, baby.”
When she’d shimmied out of her skirt, panties, and shoes, he took her hand to steady her as she climbed in. After she was settled in the warm water under the cover of bubbles, he handed her a rolled towel to use as a headrest and left, saying he’d be back in fifteen or twenty minutes.
It was heavenly. Muted light. Soft music. Warm water. Sweet smells. Shannon closed her eyes and relaxed for the first time all evening, allowing herself to think only about where she was and who had thought to give her this treat.
She must have dozed off because it seemed like only a few minutes had gone by when Leo came back with a stack of towels and what looked like a bottle of shampoo. The water had cooled a bit, so he warmed it up for her then sluiced it through her hair before working the shampoo in, massaging her scalp and neck before rinsing the soap out.
After helping her out of the tub and into a terrycloth robe, he towel-dried her hair.
Hand in hand, they went the few feet into his bedroom where he slipped off the robe and motioned her to his bed. She lay down on her stomach and he positioned her so there was room at the head of the bed for him to kneel. As soon as she was settled she heard him squirt something onto his hands, smelled a clean herbal scent, then felt him begin to smooth lotion over her heat-softened muscles.
Starting with her shoulders and upper arms, Leo rubbed and kneaded, using his thumbs in some places, his whole hand in others, completing what the hot water had begun to relax her. He knew exactly what to do and how to do it. Shannon was sure she moaned almost constantly, it felt so good.
Working his way down her back, a vertebra at a time, he reached her bottom, which he treated with the same care and attention. By the time he returned to her shoulders and neck, she was not only completely relaxed but also wanting more from him than merely a rubdown.
“It’s time to turn over, isn’t it?” She matched her actions to her words. “I usually have a sheet to cover me when I get a massage. Do I need one?” She tried to look like she was asking an innocent question when she met his gaze, but she was sure it wasn’t working.
“No, not with me. With anyone else, hell yes, you need a sheet.” His voice was thick, raspy. He cleared his throat once or twice, but the flash of desire across his face and his inability to take his eyes off her breasts said he was probably not going to get the neediness out of his voice with a simple cough.
He leaned over her and touched his mouth to hers. She thought it was funny at first, kissing upside down. But it didn’t take long before she stopped thinking and only felt.
His mouth—nibbling at her lower lip then capturing her whole mouth with his. His hands—moving slowly, very, very slowly, massaging again. She arched her back, encouraging him to touch her breasts, to move further down and touch her sex. But he was not in a hurry it seemed. He broke from the kiss and sat up to continue his massage. She groaned in frustration but he only smiled as he moved north again, to her temples, her eyebrows, and her cheeks, tracing the bones in her face with a soft touch and gentle pressure. Then he went to her neck and shoulders and began a slow, thorough path to her ribs, her waist, and her belly.
Bypassing her breasts, he allowed his fingers to stray into the triangle of damp curls at the top of her thighs. She raised her hips and he began to touch her where she wanted him, in the hot core of her, giving her clitoris the same careful attention he’d given all the rest of her body.
She was edgy with need now. She reached over her head and yanked at his shirt, trying to pull it from the waistband of his jeans.
When he startled at the suddenness of her move, she said, “It’s time for you to be part of this, too.” She dropped the shirttail and grabbed his hands. “I want you beside me. Now.”
“Whatever the lady wants tonight, the lady gets.” He moved from the head of the bed and knelt astride her. “Upside down, right side up, up to your neck in bubbles, or naked in my bed, you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in all my life. I don’t know how I lucked out, having you here.” Leo finished the job of removing his shirt, but before he could get to his jeans, she unsnapped and unzipped him, releasing his cock from his boxers and pulling him down beside her. When she had him where she wanted him, she dragged off his jeans and underwear. Once he was as naked as she was, she took his penis in her hand and began a slow, steady massage of her own. She didn’t break eye contact, wanting to see desire in his eyes, hear his breathing become as ragged as her own. And when she heard it, she dipped her head and took him in her mouth.
His erection was velvet-covered steel, and tasted of sea and salt. She could hear in his uneven breathing and occasional moan the effect she had on him. But what she had intended to arouse him further was doing the same for her. Cupping his balls and swirling her tongue over the head of his penis, she felt her body soften and catch fire as they both moved closer to the inevitable.
• • •
Jesus, this woman was going to kill him. First undressing her in the bathroom and now this. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep himself from spilling into her mouth. But he didn’t know how—didn’t know if he really wanted—to stop her from what she was doing. She was making little noises at the back of her throat, the kind she made when she was about to come, only now the sound vibrated on his cock like nothing he’d ever felt before.
It took all his will power to pull away from her. “We need to get a condom on me. Right now.” He rolled to his side and grabbed a foil packet from the nightstand. She
ripped it open and covered him then rose to her knees, straddling him, and slowly, inch-by-inch lowered herself. When he was fully enclosed by her, she leaned over, her hands on either side of his head, her damp hair tickling his chest.
“Show me how you want it, baby,” Leo whispered.
She began slowly, establishing a rocking rhythm, gradually picking up speed until he knew he wasn’t going to last much longer. Holding her hip with one hand, he found her clitoris again with the other and massaged one last time to bring her to orgasm. As her inner muscles closed around him, he came too, calling her name.
Shannon collapsed on him, seeming to have no ability to remain upright. When she shivered as the sweat from their exertions cooled, he pulled the sheet and blanket up over her and held her close until they were breathing normally.
“I see fireworks when we make love,” she said. “You make me see fireworks.”
He wiped away a tear leaking from her eye. “We make them together, baby.”
However, relaxing in afterglow apparently wasn’t part of the plan. At least, it wasn’t Walter’s plan. The dog had managed to nose open the door, which Leo, in his haste to get Shannon into his bed, hadn’t quite shut all the way. Walter trotted into the bedroom and went from one side of the bed to the other trying to get someone to pay attention to him. Shannon volunteered to take him out but Leo insisted she stay in bed while he took care of the dog and made sure he’d gotten all the candles out.
By the time he got back, she was sound asleep.
Chapter Thirteen
Shannon woke with the first light and, cocooned in the comforter on Leo’s bed, replayed the events of the night before. She couldn’t believe it was possible to go from sadness and frustration to feeling happier than she could remember being in a long time. But she had. All because of Leo. It wasn’t only that she loved the way he touched her and made love to her, although he was amazing. It wasn’t just that he could be counted on, no questions asked. It was more about how sweet he was, how concerned he was about how she felt.
When she was a little girl, she’d dreamed of having her father rescue her from life with an alcoholic mother. He’d never come through. When she was older, she’d hoped to find a man who would love her as much as she loved him. She’d never found him.
But here was a man who did the most thoughtful things for her, made her feel beautiful and desirable, who had her back, as he described it, and wanted her to know how special she was. No one had ever done all that for her before. Could she have finally found what she’d wanted all these years? The thought both excited and frightened her. What if she was wrong? What if Leo wasn’t the knight on the white horse she thought he was? What if he was like the others? Could she take one more disappointment?
Before she could come to any conclusion or answer any of her own questions, an arm came around her waist and a now awake—and obviously aroused—Leo began to nibble on her neck. “Good morning,” she said as she rolled over and pecked his cheek.
“Any morning when I wake up with you in my bed is a good morning,” he said. “But do you really think what you did qualifies as a wake-up kiss? I don’t. Let me show you what does.”
While he thoroughly kissed her, he insinuated one leg between hers and wrapped his arms around her. Drawing back slightly from her mouth, he whispered. “And now I’ll show you what makes a good morning perfect.”
• • •
“How about I make you my world-famous French toast for breakfast?” Leo asked. He’d made coffee and was enjoying the sight of her petting Walter. He wasn’t sure which was more fun to watch—Walter leaning into her hand or Shannon making sure she petted all the places she knew the dog liked.
“World famous, huh?” she said, looking up from her task with a smile.
“Okay, it’s only well known among a small group of family and friends. But my family and friends have always been my world. Now, you get to join this select group.”
“I’d love to. It sounds delicious.”
The kitchen was quiet as the three of them—Shannon, Leo, and Walter—enjoyed the sights and smells of a lazy Saturday morning. Walter was being petted. Shannon was being spoiled. Leo was being … well, he was being smug about how good his life had been since Shannon had been in it. So smug he almost burned the French toast.
Luckily, he didn’t. And Shannon joined the group who loved his cooking. In fact, she complimented him on his cooking skills so many times, he finally said, “You don’t have to thank me for breakfast, it’s my pleasure to have you here. And I do mean pleasure.”
She flushed red for a moment and played with her fork before saying, “Okay, if I can’t thank you for breakfast, how about I thank you for last night. Or would it be too weird? What you did when we came home—came here—was beyond anything I could have even imagined. I owe you.”
“You don’t owe me anything. It’s what someone does for the person they care for.” He watched her face carefully to see what her reaction would be.
She looked down at the table for a moment and fiddled with her fork again before asking, “Care for?”
“Yeah. Make you nervous?”
“A little.” She finally looked up and half smiled.
He grinned at her. “Deal with it.” He was relieved she hadn’t run screaming from the house at his declaration.
“I think I can. But I still owe you.”
“That’s not how I operate, but if you insist, how about paying me back by letting me ask you something about your father.”
She was biting her lip, the little frown back between her eyes. “I’m not sure I can tell you much about him. Even though I have his last name, I can’t say I know him well. What do you want to know?”
In spite of her nervousness, he plowed ahead, wanting to solve the mystery of why she so desperately needed the man’s attention. “Let’s start with the easy stuff. What’s he do for a living?”
“He sells things.”
“Things?”
“He’s sold insurance and cars, real estate, and cell phone service. I’m not sure what he’s selling now. He’s made a lot of money over the years because he’s good at selling. But he’s not so good at knowing what to do with the money he earns. He’s lost almost as much as he’s made investing in businesses that didn’t work out. According to my mother—who, you have to understand, isn’t the world’s most unbiased source on this subject—he’s always convinced he’ll hit the jackpot in the next deal. Like he’s always convinced the next woman will be the right one.”
“How long were your parents married?”
“I don’t know for sure if they were. There are no wedding photos anywhere in the family albums. And my mom just says they were together for six years. My dad brushed it off the one time I tried to ask him. He left us … ”
“Left your mother,” Leo said firmly.
Shannon shook her head. “Okay, if you insist. He left my mother when I was five. I didn’t see him again until I was ten. My mom hated it when he wanted to see me, tried to keep him away from me. When I could drive, it got easier. He’d call once or twice a year, and I’d go meet him for lunch. About the time I graduated from high school, he moved to Reno. Since then he’s dropped in sometimes, long enough to make me hope he wants a real relationship but not long enough to make it happen.”
She picked up her coffee cup and drained the rest of the brew from it, got up, refilled her cup, then continued. “My grandparents, his mom and dad, kept in touch with me so I knew where he was, what he was doing. I was their only grandchild, so they made sure I saw and heard from them. A couple years ago, Gramma died and Granddad ended up in assisted living because he couldn’t take care of himself. When Daddy told me last night that Granddad died, it really upset me. The last time I saw him was about eight months ago when I was visiting my mother. I wish I’d had the chance to see him one more time.”
“How come your father didn’t tell you your grandfather was sick?”
“He says it’s
because his death was sudden. But I think it’s more likely he just didn’t think to call me. Now he’s here with some story about a will and needing to get some jewelry and a bit of money to me. Then there’s the new girlfriend I told you about last night, the one he says he’s marrying soon. I can’t keep up with his stories. I sometimes wonder why I even try.”
“It must be hard to get your hopes up and have him let you down.”
“It is. And yet I keep hoping. Keep feeling like a loser when the same thing happens again.”
“You’re not a loser. He is. He’s lost out on being part of his incredible daughter’s life. You haven’t needed him to become an awesome adult. You’ve done fine without him.”
“Thank you. But still … I don’t know … I want him to acknowledge I matter to him, to think of me as his daughter instead of somebody he sees every few years, like an old high school classmate you only see at the occasional reunion. He knows less about me than he does his customers, I bet. And still I keep beating my head against this wall around him trying to get him to let me in.”
“I can’t imagine how frustrating it must be for you.”
She looked at him with shiny eyes. “It is. And this time, it’s not only frustrating but it’s weirder than usual. He suddenly has Jeremy as his new best friend. That I really don’t understand. Daddy said he invited Jeremy last night so I’d have a friend with me when I got the bad news about Granddad.”
“How did he even know where to find Jeremy?”
“My question exactly. Apparently they hit it off when they met while Jeremy and I were dating. I guess they’ve been in touch with each other since then. But Daddy must know we haven’t seen each other in over a year. Surely Jeremy hasn’t been that dishonest with him.”
Leo reached across the table for her hand. “Hmm. Maybe your life does have certain elements in common with All My Children. Although there’s been no murder or hidden twin.” He gave her a fake surprised look. “Or are you saving that to tell me later?”
“No, no one died mysteriously and I’m quite sure I was a single birth.” She squeezed his hand. “You can make me laugh even when I’m feeling crummy. I like that about you.”