by Brenda Hill
Good. Maybe they can get some use out of it. I thought about hauling the wing chair out there as well, but decided I wanted something to sit on until I replaced the furniture. Replace the furniture? Hell, I was going to replace the house. I’d move into an apartment that had no memories for me, nothing to remind me of an entire life that I’d lost. I’d pay Stan and Maggie what I owed and never have to see them again.
I’d start all over with a new life and make my own memories.
***
Someone inside my head was pounding on my brain. I opened an eye and discovered I was lying across my bed, my silk blouse twisted under me, shoes still on my feet. From the front door, the pounding continued, echoing in my temples. Now the doorbell rang and rang, accompanied by the persistent pounding.
Needing the bathroom, I slid off the bed. My mouth tasted foul. The endless pounding continued. Soon after, the noise moved to my sliding doors in back and I heard Maggie’s voice.
“Lisa, let me in. Lisa!”
My cell phone rang. I ignored it all and entered the bathroom. A few moments later, I rinsed with mouthwash and made my way to the sliding door. I slid it open and made sure the screen was locked.
Funny what you notice when your world has crumbled. Maggie looked terrible. Her eyes were red and puffy and the tiny lines on her face stood out as if she’d aged twenty years since yesterday. Strange, though. Here was a woman I’d loved and she was obviously in pain, but I felt curiously detached, as if I were observing a painting in a museum.
“Thank God,” she whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks.
Strange how the crying process worked. The tears formed in her eyes, then ran down in one stream. You’d think they’d plop over and make hundreds of little paths, but no, they seemed to pool in one place and spill over, each drop following the one before until they made one long stream.
“...and we were so worried,” she was saying. “I have to talk to you, Lisa, and explain—”
“I don’t know you,” I interrupted her, my voice expressionless. It was amazing how calm I felt. Or perhaps it was the Sangria. “You’re like a stranger to me, maybe even worse because I trusted you. Do you know how long it took me to trust someone?”
“Lisa, don’t—”
“I’m going to sell this place and pay you back all the money I owe. Then, I don’t want to see you or hear from you, or your husband, ever again.”
“Please, Lisa, I love—”
“You don’t understand. You no longer exist for me.”
Maggie stared at me, her eyes stricken.
“I want you to leave,” I told her. “If you don’t, I’ll call the police.” I shut and locked the door, pulled the drapes, and, tugging off my blouse and trousers, plodded back to bed.
***
Birds chirping outside my window woke me. Damn birds. I didn’t know why I’d always loved their early morning singing. If I had a rock I’d throw it right through the window at them.
Rolling over, I tried to shut out the dawn and go back to sleep, but as soon as I closed my eyes I saw my husband’s wedding photo with that woman. For the next hour I tried to shut out that picture and get back to sleep, but I couldn’t erase that picture and the smug look on Jenna’s face. Finally I kicked off the covers and decided I might as well go to the office.
The hot, steaming shower eased the pounding in my neck and shoulders, and the hot coffee perked me right up. By the time I unlocked my car, I felt almost human.
In the office, I kept to myself, going over new listings. Nina and Ed tried to talk to me, but I had nothing to say. I glanced up at one time and saw Nina give Ed a look; when she saw me looking at her, she flushed and became absorbed in paperwork.
My phone rang. I ignored it. It kept ringing and I kept ignoring it. “Just give it to Ed,” I said to Nina.
A little later, I was trying to close my briefcase. For some reason the lock wouldn’t click shut. I tried and tried, my impatience growing with each try. I broke a nail.
“Damn thing!”
“What’s wrong?” Ed asked.
“This... thing won’t close,” I said between gritted teeth.
“Here, let me help you.” He rose.
“I’ll get it!” I turned the briefcase over several times, trying from different angles to get the damned thing to lock. It still wouldn’t shut and I just knew if I picked it up, it would fall open and all my papers would spill out.
After trying a couple more times, I lugged it under my arm, grabbed my handbag and raced out the door.
Just as I hit the pavement, my heel turned and I went down, scraping my knee, and my handbag flew out of my arms. My briefcase hit the ground and burst open, and all my papers spilled out, scattering on the ground like huge white ashes.
“Damn, damn, damn!” My knee stung like hell and bled through the pant material. I pushed myself up and started picking up the scattered papers and couldn’t believe how much I hated that briefcase. I kicked it and kicked it again, would have kicked the damn thing into the street if Ed hadn’t grabbed me. He pulled me to him. I tried to push away, but he firmly held me. I caught a glimpse of Nina gathering my papers and I burst into tears.
“Let’s go inside and take a look at your knee.” Gently Ed guided me up the steps, then to a chair in the office. Dropping to his knees in front of me, he pushed up my pant leg to expose my bloody knee.
“Ouch, that must sting.”
“Here, I’ll get some bandages.” Nina said, dropping everything onto her desk. “Don’t worry,” she told me, her voice kind. “I know it hurts, but I think it looks worse than it is.”
I wept all over again, and this time, the sobs came so hard that I had to catch my breath.
Ed kept an arm around me and Nina pulled up a chair to stay close. “There, there,” they kept saying in that age-old comforting tone. “It’ll be okay.”
When I wound down, my eyes were so swollen I could barely see. My head felt stuffed and I was exhausted. And ashamed.
“I’m sorry I was so shitty,” I told them both. “Thanks for putting up with me, and thank you for helping.”
“We’re your friends,” Ed said, and I could have kissed him. “We all have bad days, and we know you must be going through a lot.”
“Care to talk about it?” Nina asked.
“I can’t,” I told her, “but I’ll need a few days off to get myself together.”
Driving home, the rage had dissipated, but I couldn’t wait to crawl into my bed. I felt so exhausted I almost pulled to the side of the road to sleep, but I wanted the comfort of my own bed.
Sometime later the doorbell woke me again. The house was dark, the nightstand clock glowed an amber 10:00pm. I rolled over and willed whoever was at the door, probably Maggie, or even Stan, to go away.
The doorbell rang again. Je-sus Christ. Pulling on my robe, I made my way to the living room and flung open the door.
“I told you—” I began, then saw it was Terry.
“I know it’s late,” he said, “but I had to see you, Lisa. I can’t take this any longer.”
Standing at the door, I realized how glad I was to see someone who loved me, someone who seemed to need me as much I needed him. Suddenly I had to hold him, needed to feel his arms around me, and that need was so great that I felt consumed with it. I unlocked the screen, grabbed his shirt and pulled him in. I didn’t even give him a chance to speak before I plastered myself against him and kissed him.
Terry slid his arms around me and pulled me tighter, enclosing me in a warm, safe cocoon. He smelled faintly of soap and hair tonic, and when he kissed me again, I tasted brandy. I licked his lips. He captured my lips with his, gently sucking on my bottom lip, then probing my mouth with his tongue. If I had been capable of thinking logically, I might have considered how absurd the entire thing was, but the pleasure tingled all the way to my toes and all I wanted to do was feel.
He trailed small kisses on my neck, then nibbled on my ear lobe, drawing it in
to his mouth, gently sucking until every nerve in my body tingled and I wanted more. He lowered the zipper on my gown and it fell in a bundle around my feet. He kissed the valley between my breasts, then unsnapped my bra and eased it off over my shoulders so he could run his hands over my naked breasts, stroking my nipples with his thumbs. When they stiffened into hard nubs, he lowered his head and took one nipple at a time into his warm mouth.
“Oh, God,” I groaned. I’d never known such exquisite pleasure and I arched against him. Each time his tongue touched me, shocks of pleasure flooded my body with moisture. My heart pounded; my pulse raced. I felt his erection through his slacks. Instead of freezing, I gloried in his need of me.
His breathing ragged, Terry raised his head. “Are you sure this is what you want? If it isn’t, you’d better say so right now.”
“Make love to me, Terry,” I gasped. “Make me forget everything but you.”
He slipped his arm under my knees, easily cradling me in his arms. After I pointed the way, he carried me upstairs to the bedroom.
“I’ve dreamed of this moment for so long,” he said, laying me on the bed, his eyes devouring me.
Without thinking, I covered my breasts with my arms. While Mac had never said my small breasts were disappointing, he’d always admired the big breasts of other women, even suggesting once that I consider surgery.
“Honey, let me see every inch of you,” Terry said, taking my hands in his and pressing them above my head. “Let me love you.”
And with that, he began kissing me again, so softly, so leisurely, as if he delighted in each feather touch, until my body felt liquid. Pulling off my blouse, he pressed his chest against mine, and the slight tickling sensation from his soft hair rubbing against my skin added to my pleasure. His hunger for me, his gentle touch made me feel as if I were a delicacy he intended to savor. Never before had I felt so wanted, so needed, and I surrendered to every new delicious sensation.
When he let go of my hands, I cupped the back of his neck, pressing his head against me, wanting more. And when he moved from my lips, I moaned in frustration, until he kissed his way to my nipples, erect and begging for his touch. Covering one breast with his hand, he drew my left nipple into his wet mouth and sucked, gently kneading the other breast in rhythm, rubbing the nipple with his thumb. Pure sensation shot to my loins, and I was aware of a fierce hunger I’d never felt before.
I didn’t want him to stop, didn’t want the delicious feelings to end, and when he raised his head, I moaned, reaching for him, wanting to draw his warmth back to me.
“I love your body,” he whispered, running his hands over my shoulders and breasts as if he were a blind man, exploring something wonderful with his hands, feeling each inch of my skin through the palms of his hands. He stroked my breasts, my shoulders, even down my arms. I would never have thought that the feel of someone’s palm could be so sensuous.
“Your breasts are so beautiful,” he whispered, stroking my breasts along the outside and underneath. “Just enough to hold. And your nipples....” He bent down and ran his tongue over them, instantly puckering each one. “So pink and pretty.”
For the first time, I felt proud of my breasts.
When he drew away from me and stood, I cried out.
“I’ll just be a moment,” he said, removing his clothes. Before I could do anything but glimpse his large, muscular form, he was back on the bed with me, covering my body with his own. His hot erection pressed against my belly.
Settling his weight on his elbows alongside of me, he began kissing me again, slowly bringing pure sensation alive once more. I wrapped my arms around him, stroking his neck and broad shoulders.
When I melted from his kisses, he slid down and took a nipple in his mouth. I sighed, running my hands through his silver hair and down his back, eager for more of the pleasure he’d given me before. But instead of palming my other breast, he ran his hand over my ribcage and down to my belly, running his palm over my tummy, over my hips and down my thighs. Resting his hand on my moist center, he began a rocking motion outside my panties with the heel of his hand. An aching heat flushed my body and I strained upwards, almost panting, needing more.
“Sweet Lisa,” he murmured, his voice ragged, “that’s good, so good.”
He hooked my panties with his fingers and drew them down, kissing and tonguing as each inch of skin was exposed. I didn’t know if I could stand another moment of the exquisite torture and I lifted my hips to help him slide the panties off, desperate to feel every inch of him against me.
“So beautiful,” he said, his eyes running down the length of me. “Do you want me as much as I want you?”
In answer, I pulled him to me, kissing him with a fever I’d never before felt.
“Let me taste your tongue,” he said. “Let me feel it.”
I hesitantly entered his mouth, tasting, exploring. We kissed, the heat building, and he touched me between my legs. Parting me with his fingers, he slid a finger inside. I gasped, and when he worked his finger in and out, I cried out in sweet agony.
“Oh, please,” I gasped.
He slid down my body and stretched out between my legs. Fleetingly, I thought of stopping him to run in and cleanse myself, but I knew my trembling legs wouldn’t hold me. When he dipped his head and began licking, the pleasure was so intense that I couldn’t think about anything except the throbbing heat building inside me. His arms tightened and he cupped my buttocks, drawing me closer to his mouth. I moaned and clutched the sheet with both hands. When his warm, wet tongue opened me and probed inside, I almost screamed. He licked and sucked, caressing inside of me with his tongue. My hips rose, almost frantic against him, begging for release. When it came, it was so powerful I almost passed out.
Terry raised his head, his mouth and chin slick with my moisture. “You want me?” he said. “Tell me you do.”
“Please,” I gasped. “I want you.”
I reached for him and he rose to enter me. I was ready for him, and he thrust himself inside and waited for me to adjust to his size. I rocked against him and he began thrusting deep inside me, slowly at first, then building speed until he was pounding against me, bringing me to another release. Then, with one last thrust, he stiffened and collapsed on top of me.
Chapter Twenty
Breathing heavily, Terry stretched out on his back, pulled me to him and kissed me. It wasn’t a kiss of passion, but one of affection, of love. He kept an arm around me, and it felt good, comforting. I thought it amazing how one person’s simple action could deeply affect the other. Even though our bodies were separate, I still felt connected to him, still wanted by him. My body still tingled and I should have been exhausted, but I felt wonderfully alive. I never imagined sex could be like that.
Best of all, I hadn’t once thought of Mac. It was as if my life with him had miraculously been delegated to the past, as if, for the first time, I’d been shown how it felt to be loved. And it felt glorious.
I studied the man next to me, his straight nose, the full lips that had given me such pleasure. His dark brows had strands of gray and I thought the combination sexy.
He grinned. “What’s so fascinating?”
“You.”
He laughed and I admired his straight, white teeth. Everything about him seemed perfect. His arms tightened, and I felt the beginnings of his erection brushing my thighs. But I needed a shower. I threw my legs over the side of the bed.
“You going somewhere?” he asked, propping his head on his hand.
That was strange, I thought. Mac had never touched anything, including his own body, until he’d washed after sex. I never fully realized until this moment how that had made me feel.
“To the shower,” I told him.
“Great. I’ll join you. I hope it’s big enough for two.”
Oh, no! Now I wished Mac hadn’t remodeled the master bath to include a separate shower stall. Even though Terry and I had just made glorious love and he’d seen every inch of
my body, I didn’t think I could handle standing totally nude opposite him under the bright, harsh bathroom lights where he’d be able to see the droop of my breasts, the rounded tummy and stretch marks. I couldn’t let him be repelled just yet. Oh, please, not yet.
“I’ll go first,” I mumbled, sliding into my robe and dashing for the bathroom.
Usually I loved soaking in a tub of warm water, but a shower would be quicker, and maybe I could get through and slip into my robe before Terry came into the bathroom.
Quickly running the soap over my body, I was rinsing under the warm water spray when I glanced through the frosted glass door and saw Terry walking toward me. I grabbed the washcloth and covered my breasts, but realizing how ridiculous that was, I pulled it off and sucked in my tummy. He opened the door and stepped into the tiled stall.
“I hoped you’d need help,” he said, brushing against me.
My first instinct was to cover my breasts with my hands. He, in turn, appeared to have no such inhibitions as he faced me, lathering his large male body with soap, then stepping around me to rinse. I wanted to be that way—oh, how I’d love to feel so gloriously free, as I never had with Mac.
“Here, let me.” Terry lathered his hands with soap and began running them over my breasts, then down to my stomach and thighs. Instantly my nipples puckered, but I backed away.
He glanced up at me, his blue eyes questioning.
“What’s wrong?”
I couldn’t speak. I covered my breasts with my arms and began to cry.
“Did I hurt you?” He wiped away the tears and tried to hold me. I wanted him so desperately, yet, stiff and unyielding, I kept my arms folded over my breasts. What was the matter with me?
Terry was clearly puzzled. “Is something wrong? Do you want me to leave?”
Tears leaking down my face, I shook my head.
“Then what is it?”