Houseboat

by Paul Shadinger

  I stopped and took a breath, “My turn?” Sharon asked. I smiled and she returned the smile. “Okay! I want us together the same as you. The other day I was in so much pain because my patient died, and when you took me in your arms, the pain went away. When you made love to me, it was…well, like magic. I know that sounds so stupid, but I lack the words to properly describe it. My body has wanted you so much for the last couple of days, a want that actually borders on hunger. When I think about the other night I become wet, turned on, and wanting you. Matt, that doesn’t happen to me. At one time, when we had sex it was more combat than making love,” I nodded my head. I understood exactly what she meant. “Lately, it just seems to get better and better. I crave you, I need you. I agree I like the idea of us being together and not just because we have a license. I totally understand. I love you too.”

  I slipped my arm around her again and pulled her against me. We continued to sit there on the couch with our feet up on the ottoman. I have no idea how long we sat there watching the night settle in and the slow activity of the boats on the lake in front of us. I was a bit hungry, but the moment was so special I didn’t want to break the mood. It was completely dark outside when I finally heard Sharon give a deep sigh, and I looked over at her. “What?” I asked.

  “Darling, I need you to take me to bed and make love to me. I want you to love me just like we did last time. Take BJ out for her final outing and then come to bed. I’ll be waiting.”

  I stood and called to BJ. She jumped down and we went back outside. The walkway was now hard ice, and I had to walk very carefully to keep from falling.

  As I stood in the field, my thoughts were back in the apartment, more precisely, in the bedroom. I was pleased Sharon felt the same way I did about things. I had no idea where this was going to lead, but I was ready to find out.

  The night was cold and the puffs of my breath hung in the crisp air. BJ, as always, wanted to explore under every bush, smell every frozen blade of grass. Since it doesn’t get that cold very often in Seattle, she was not used to the grass being frozen under her feet, and from time to time she’d stop and sort of shake one of her paws, wondering why the grass felt the way it did.

  Finally, I’d enough of the cold, and I wanted to return to the apartment. “Let’s go!” I called to her, and she ran down the walkway, waiting for me to let her in the house. By the time I was at the bedroom door, BJ had found her spot and was lying in her chair all curled up.

  Sharon had a couple of candles burning and now light flickered off the walls. I quickly undressed and pulled the cover back. Her nude body was displayed before me and for a moment it was difficult for me to breathe. “You’re lovely. I really do love you,” I told her.

  She patted the bed beside her. “Make love to me. Please.”

  Time stood still. I had no idea if we were together for a few minutes, or a few hours. All I knew was we devoured each other. I wanted her to climax, as much and as often as was possible. I’d taste her, and then make love to her only to then bury my face again between her fragrant thighs, savoring our tastes. For me it was all about her and how many ways I could show her how much I loved and adored her. At times, she screamed, as wave after wave of climax swept through her body; other times she wept as I held her, and when I asked her why, she just would shake her head. When I could contain it no longer, I exploded inside of her, screaming at the top of my lungs from the incredible intensity of my feelings.

  Afterwards she lay there curled up in my arms, and her head rested on my shoulder. “Thank you,” she murmured.

  “What for?”

  “For making me the happiest woman in the world. You were wonderful.” Sharon kissed my chest and hugged me.

  We slept for a while, and I awoke to the feeling of her mouth sucking me to firmness, and once attained, she moved her body on top of me and pushed herself onto me. It didn’t matter we’d just made love a short time before; the feeling of her pushing down on me, the feeling of me slipping up inside her tight wetness was beyond description. At one point during our joining, she just lay on my chest, my erection deep inside of her, and she wept. I pushed her up and asked her again, “Why?”

  She shook her head, and I begged her to try to share with me why she was crying. “It was never like this. It’s something that I always wanted, but I never had. This is something that I’ve searched for, but it was always just outside of my reach. It’s this feeling, the feeling that you make me feel so loved, so safe and adored.” At that point, she picked up speed, and started to push down on me faster and faster. Her head fell back and she screamed she was coming, so I reached up and took her nipples between my fingers and squeezed. Again, she screamed and her body shook. One more time I squeezed and this time I demanded, “Come for me, please come for me.” One last time her body trembled, and then she fell forward on me, limp and exhausted.

  I don’t remember our parting in the night, but when the first rays of light crept in the bedroom Sharon was beside me, sound asleep. Looking at her, I could see her tousled hair and a very contented look on her face, but the beauty of it was that she was totally asleep. I had to pee and really didn’t want to move, but Mother Nature told me I had no choice. As I stood there relieving myself, I thought of the new day’s activities, and I wondered about the wisdom of trying to see Jeff L. I realized I needed to talk to him about Hollis. I didn’t think Jeff L. realized just how dangerous Hollis was. I had firsthand knowledge of the things Hollis was capable of and somehow I needed to find a way to make Jeff L. understand. For sure, I felt it was time to end Mr. Hollis’ activities.

  ~ ~ ~ ~

  The next day I spent working on the MG collection with my mind split between two things. Half my mind worked on trying to figure out how things were going to work out with Sharon, and the other half was working on what was happening with my deteriorating relationship with the police and how I was going to talk to Jeff L. and let him know how dangerous things were. I’ll admit I was confused and concerned.

  When I woke up Friday morning I had started to form the beginnings of a plan. I’d hoped that Jeff L. would consider our longtime friendship and change his mind. I needed for him to see his way clear to let me in on what was going on, or at least let me explain how important it was he located Hollis. Let’s be honest, I’d already shared my information about Hollis and Price, so was I out of line to expect him to give me something in return? I’ll admit I did feel a bit guilty I hadn’t shared the information about Lan, but in my defense, I really didn’t know how much she knew about things and I didn’t want to get her involved unless there was no other choice. The saying goes, “no good deed goes unpunished” and as things turned out, I wish I had made a different choice.

  My mind continued to run through the same maze, and because of what happened with Captain Frank, I could understand a sudden change in my relationship with Sakol, and perhaps even a little with Jeff L.. But, because of how far back Jeff L. and I went, I felt we should be able to move past what happened down at the station. I could understand in a why he refused to speak to me at the station, but I was hoping he’d consider talking to me away from work. I figured I’d let my plan marinate over the weekend. Besides, for some reason spending time with Sharon seemed to addle my brain. When I was away from her all I wanted was to see her and when we were together no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t keep my hands off her. I will admit, I didn’t try too hard. And the best part was we had a weekend in front of us to spend together.

  I know, bad Matt! Tough!

  CHAPTER 29

  It was late Saturday morning and Sharon and I were just finishing up our morning coffee when the phone rang. Sharon picked it up, listened for a moment and then asked them to please hold. As she extended the phone to me, Sharon said, “It’s a woman. And she sounds really sexy.” I was grateful when Sharon winked at me.

  I was curious now. What sexy woman was calling me on a Saturday morn
ing? “Good morning, this is Matt.”

  A familiar sultry voice greeted me, “Hi Matt, this is Jennifer. Is this a bad time?”

  “Well, gee whiz, we were just having sex and…” Sharon’s hand slapping me on my back stopped my comment.

  “She just hit you, didn’t she?” Jennifer was laughing as she asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “And you had it coming.”

  “Yeah. Thanks Jennifer, what can I do for you this morning?”

  “I would like for you and Sharon to come to dinner this evening. Can you make it?” I told Jennifer to wait a moment and I asked Sharon if we had plans for the evening. When she asked me what was going on I explained about the invitation to dinner. Sharon grinned at me and said, “Go for it. Ask what time and what should I wear?” Just like a woman, wondering what to wear.

  “We would love to. I just need to know what time and where? Oh…and Sharon wants to know what to wear.”

  I heard Jennifer laugh again as she responded, “A limo will pick you up at your place at seven. As for what to wear, you look great in a suit. Tell Sharon to wear whatever looks good when you wear a suit. See you tonight.” And she hung up.

  “Well?” Sharon asked. “What did she say?”

  “She told me I looked great in a suit and for you to try and look half that nice.” Damn it, she slapped me again. “Really, she said for me to wear a suit and for you to dress accordingly.”

  “That is not what you said first!” I thought, picky, picky, picky!

  I took BJ out to do her business around 6:30 that evening and then I started my transformation. I pulled out my best suit and my favorite cufflink sleeved shirt. I noticed I had ten minutes to go and I was able to go out to the kitchen and pour myself a small Scotch. Just as Sharon entered the kitchen, the phone from the lobby rang. Our limo had arrived.

  On the way down in the elevator I complemented Sharon on just how nice she looked. Her dress was kind of clingy and it showed a nice amount of cleavage. She smiled at me and asked, “Do I look half as nice as you?”

  My hand strayed down to her shapely bottom and I caressed as I responded, “Yes, dear!” She wasn’t going to let my remark go unpunished.

  The limo was two zip codes long and the driver was standing by the open back door. As Sharon entered the driver smiled at me, “Good evening Mr. Preston.” I nodded.

  After the driver slipped behind the wheel, I called out, “Where are we going?”

  “Miss Rockingham has asked me to keep that a secret.” I leaned back and shut my mouth. Sharon and I sat in the back, holding hands and watching the passing view. Finally we pulled up in front of a large, expensive looking home. The driver asked us to wait in the car. He went to the front door and Richard Silversmith opened it. I had met his wife once and the driver escorted the two of them to the limo. There were two seats facing us and Richard and his wife took those. We all exchanged greetings and Richard’s wife reached over and extended her hand to Sharon. “Sandy Silversmith.”

  “Sharon Crowell. Nice to meet you.” She turned to Richard and asked, “You must be Richard? Thanks for keeping Matt out of jail for so long.”

  We all laughed and Richard said, “It hasn’t been easy.” He then turned to me, “I like her. A bit above your pay grade, but I do like her.”

  “Thanks, Richard. Do you have any idea what this is all about tonight?”

  “No, I was hoping you knew.” Richard responded.

  “I asked the driver but he said it was a surprise.”

  Richard turned and called out to the driver, “How long to where we’re going?”

  “Just a few minutes, sir. By the way, there is a small fridge between you and your wife. There are cocktails in there for the four of you.” Richard opened up the small cooler and sure enough, there were four glasses of some sort of reddish looking liquid. Richard passed out the drinks and we took a sip. I have no idea what it was, but it was splendid. There was a definite berry flavor to it, but you could also feel the drink had a fair amount of alcohol in it. All four of us enjoyed our drinks and they seemed to go down way too easy.

  We pulled up in front of the tallest building in Seattle and the driver stopped. The doorman stepped forward and opened up the limo door. After the four of us were out of the limo, the doorman invited us to follow him.

  Sharon leaned close and whispered, “I’ve heard rumors about a very exclusive club-restaurant on the top two floors of this building. Have you ever been there?” I shook my head. I’d heard rumors about it too. The doorman showed us to an open elevator, reached in and pushed the only button on the panel. He nodded his head and as the door closed, he said, “Have a nice evening folks.”

  Richard spoke with some excitement in his voice, “I’ve heard about this place. You have to be nominated to join and then be voted in. It’s very expensive to join and you have to pay monthly dues, which I understand are rather stiff. The food and service are supposedly exactly what you would expect from a place like this.”

  When the elevator door opened we were greeted by a wall of glass showcasing the Sound and the Olympic Mountains in the distance. The view was stunning. A lovely Asian woman in some sort of regional dress stepped towards us. “Mr. and Mrs. Silversmith?” she asked and Richard raised his hand. The exquisite lady turned to me and asked, “Mr. Preston?” I nodded my head and she turned to Sharon. “You must be Miss Crowell?” Sharon nodded her head. “Miss Crowell, your dress is stunning.” Sharon glowed. “Please follow me.”

  We walked down a hallway and then stepped into a small private dining room that was set for seven people. No sooner had the lovely hostess left the room when Jennifer entered followed by Scott and a woman I had never met. Scott has nice taste in woman but this was way beyond any woman I had ever seen him with. The woman was almost as tall as I am and the word that came to mind was voluptuous. Her dress looked to have been spray painted on her and her long black hair swirled around her face. She was stunning. She looked familiar but I couldn’t place her.

  Jennifer smiled at all of us. “I want to thank all of you for coming this evening. I wanted to show you my appreciation for all that you’ve done for me. Shall we take our seats?”

  Sharon was on my left and Scott’s date was on my right. I turned to the young woman, extend my hand and said, “My name is Matt Preston.”

  She smiled at me. “So you are Matt Preston? I’ve heard so much about you.” I just sat there like a bump on a log. She continued to smile at me. “My name is Anne Small.”

  Sharon had been listening in and she leaned across me. “Why you’re Anne Small, the actress.” The light bulb went on in my head. That was why she looked familiar.

  “Guilty. But please, call me Anne. And let’s forget about the actress thing. Please.” The woman was warm and genuine. She asked, “Isn’t this the most lovely view?”

  Two people entered the room, one male and one female. The female introduced herself as Betsy. She then introduced the man as Bill. Both of them made a small bow and explained they were going to take care of us this evening. Betsy asked us if we would like a drink and Sandy Silversmith asked if it was possible to get another drink like we had in the limo. She was told that she could and then Sharon and Anne said they wanted another one as well. I thought the drink had been okay, but I prefer Scotch. Scott, Richard and I all ordered a Scotch. As Betsy listed the available Scotch on hand, she mentioned one I had never heard of. But she said it was thirty years old. All three of us wanted to taste that one.

  I learned that evening I could get really used to thirty year old Scotch. I also learned that our food was a true culinary masterpiece. We were served a very small cup of lukewarm soup. Normally I like my soup hot, but the flavors were easy to distinguish. Next came a small salad with a most remarkable dressing. Dinner was salmon prepared like I had never had it before. The side dishes consisted of green beans and a potato
dish full of little chunks of bacon and other things.

  Each person was served at the same time by seven waiters directed by Betsy and Bill. When a new dish was brought out, the waiters would all come into the room in single file. They would circle the table until there was a waiter standing behind each of our left shoulders. I never did see the signal, but the waiters would uncover the dish and then at the same time, set it down in front of us. Once we were served, the waiters would then parade around the table and leave the room. Betsy and Bill never left the room except to fulfill any of our requests. It was fun, but a bit overwhelming.

  Finally the meal was over and everyone was chatting about the quality and flavors of dinner. I had stepped over to the window enjoying my Scotch while looking out over Puget Sound from seventy-two stories up. It was unbelievable, like some sort of a postcard picture. Scott came over and stood next to me. As we stood there looking out, Scott said to me, “I have good news buddy.”

  “Oh. Please don’t make me wait.”

  He chuckled. “Do you remember I told you about having lunch with a friend and so forth who had some pull down at city hall?” I told him I remembered the conversation. “The city has backed off its stand and they have informed Wheeler that he can sell the spaces if he wants and in addition, they will not close off the parking in front of marina.”

  “No shit?”

  “No shit. And it gets better.”

  I was ready for some good news about the houseboat. Finally. “Wheel called me this afternoon and the space you are moored in is now yours. I have to pick up the papers on Monday and you need to sign them.” I just stood there with my mouth open. “Close your mouth. You look retarded when you stand there like that.” I closed my mouth.

  “Is there anything else I need to do?” I asked.

  “Well, yes there is one small thing. There is the small matter of a check.” I asked him how much the slip was going to cost and I almost passed out when he told me the figure. When I started to protest he reminded me that my other choice was to move the houseboat. The number didn’t seem so bad when I looked at it from that viewpoint.