Heart to Heart

by Meline Nadeau

  Dismounting their bikes, they carried them up the little hill on their shoulders, resting them against a tree at the top, in full view of the road. Sure enough, a charming brook babbled in the decline on the other side of the hill. Its grassy banks were dotted with the same flowers Jacob had sent her with breakfast. Stands of firs offered cool shade.

  Descending to the bank of the stream, Ariel was again able to appreciate the beauty of the scenery. She arched her back, relishing the restorative stretch, as well as the crystalline, fir-scented air and the clarity of the water as it ran over its bed of polished stones. She sank appreciatively onto the soft grass and folded herself over her legs to stretch her sore hamstrings.

  • • •

  She looked even more beautiful in this perfect natural setting, thought Jacob, than she had at the hotel. He marveled at her flexibility as she spread her legs out straight to the sides in a perfect split and lowered her upper body until it was flat against the ground. What options could that flexibility offer them in bed?

  He sat down beside her, lounging easily on his elbows and handing her a power bar. Ariel bit into it hungrily, then looked at the bar’s label.

  “That’s one of the perks of working out this hard. You can eat as many calories as you want, whenever. I have trouble keeping my weight up, not down,” Jacob offered conversationally.

  Ariel nodded. “I don’t worry about it, either. When I was dancing, all the other girls were starving themselves to look like ‘perfect’ ballerinas. But they were so undernourished, they had no energy for the actual dancing. Long hours, hard work. You need food for that. I concentrated on technique, on fitness, on stamina — and let my weight take care of itself.”

  Jacob ran his eyes over her body appreciatively. “It seems to be taking care of itself quite nicely, still.”

  Ariel blushed. She jumped up and crossed the few feet between their resting place and the bank of the stream, where she knelt and splashed her face with water.

  As she straightened up, Jacob also rose. Before Ariel could turn around, he grasped her from behind, pressing the length of their bodies together, front to back. Just as he’d imagined.

  Ariel gasped as Jacob pulled her against him, one hand on her right breast and the other wrapped around her waist. Her whole body melted against him, and he took her weight effortlessly. Her head fell back against his shoulder and he kissed her neck hungrily, tasting the salt of her sweat. He felt the delicious weight of Ariel’s breast filling his palm, the firm ripeness of her bottom. He pressed himself more tightly into her, his penis rock-hard under the spandex of his shorts. He moved his other hand lower, toward the triangle of Ariel’s sex.

  • • •

  As Ariel felt Jacob’s hand on her, pressing against her clitoris through the thin fabric of her clothes, she let out a low, involuntary moan.

  She wanted this man. Wanted him more than she’d wanted anyone, ever. The intensity of her desire was overwhelming. It pulsed in hot waves from between her legs, half pleasure, half ache. She opened her legs for his hand, allowing him to spread his palm between her thighs, to move it against the slippery fabric, over the locus of her mounting pleasure.

  She moaned when he took his hand away — then moaned again, more loudly, as he slipped his hand down her shorts, touching her again with no intervening fabric to dull the incredible sensation. Jacob groaned as his fingers slid against the slick folds of her sex, circling her tender, swollen bud with lazy, teasing fingers.

  He picked her up entirely and, turning her to face him, lowered her onto the soft grass beside the stream. Covering her body with his own, he pushed her willing legs open, rested his hips between them and moved against her, the slow friction driving Ariel to delirium.

  They stripped one another’s clothes off in a frenzy, Jacob kissing every part of Ariel’s skin as he uncovered it. Ariel felt she was afloat in a sea of sensation, her rational mind entirely drowned in a rising, rushing tide of desire. When Jacob lowered his head between her legs and moved his tongue expertly against her clit, she shuddered with amazement, all her senses aflame, her body rocking as waves of pleasure spread from her core through every part of her being.

  Feeling her pleasure mount — with shocking quickness — toward the crest of climax, she curled her fingers under his jaw and pulled his head up toward her own, kissing his slick mouth, drowning in the depths of his kiss. All her inhibitions knocked asunder by her maddening need for the feeling of his manhood inside her, filling her completely, she whispered into his ear, “I want you … now.”

  Jacob lifted himself above her, looking down at her. Like her, he was breathing quickly, excited, flushed. To Ariel’s complete shock, and her intense frustration, he shook his head. “I don’t have a condom,” he whispered, stroking the side of her face gently, regretfully.

  Ariel couldn’t fathom his restraint. There was no way they could not make love now. It was destiny, fate. It was primal, a deep, instinctive need. It was more necessary than anything she’d ever felt. She raised her head and kissed him deeply, pressing her hips against him at the same time.

  “It doesn’t matter,” she said, gazing up at him with complete trust, complete hedonistic abandon, running her hands up and down his smooth back.

  Jacob pulled farther away from her, separating their bodies by a few inches. Ariel never knew a few inches could matter so much. Hurt so much. Almost sobbing with frustration, she begged him, “Please. I need you. I want you, now. I don’t care about the condom.”

  Jacob kissed her forehead and stroked her hair, gazing at her compassionately, the fire of passion still in his eyes. “I know,” he said. “I know, love. I want it as much as you do. But I do care. For both of us. We’ll have to wait until later.”

  Ariel pulled herself away from him entirely, rocketing to her feet and looking at him as he lay below her in the grass. Incredibly beautiful. All she wanted in the world, at this moment. To her intense shame and surprise, she broke into a torrent of tears.

  Covering her face with her hands, she turned away from Jacob, stumbling down the bank of the stream. She wanted to hide herself, hide her frustration, her embarrassment. Because, as the heat of her lust faded, she knew Jacob was right. She’d just pressed him to behave incredibly irresponsibly, had urged him to put both of them at risk. She dropped her hands and walked quickly down the bank, looking for a place to collect herself, to calm the turmoil of her emotions — alone. Passing through the stand of firs, she rounded the face of a giant rock and sat down in the grass naked, her back pressed against the warm stone, taking deep, restorative breaths. She was hidden from Jacob. Just as she’d wanted.

  • • •

  Allowing her to pass out of sight, Jacob rose and followed her at a distance, treading lightly with his bare feet on the sward of grass. He saw her slip behind the rock, and, not seeing her emerge, stood a moment in indecision. Should he follow her? No, he decided. He’d seen the desperation in her eyes, the crazy jumble of her thoughts and feelings. Intuitively, he felt that she needed this time alone, that he should respect her privacy — for a while.

  • • •

  When Ariel came out from behind her rock, she thought she’d figured a few things out. Jacob Hunter was a more respectful, gentle, selfless person than she ever could have expected. And she herself was capable of things she’d never imagined — risking everything for a moment of fleeting — albeit incredibly intense — pleasure, letting her body completely rule her mind, her good judgment.

  She was embarrassed. But she was also interested in this new version of Ariel Hayes. Was it so bad to prioritize pleasure? Maybe she had some unexpected exploration ahead of her.

  She glanced around for Jacob. He was nowhere in sight. She returned to where her clothes lay, huddled on the ground beside the stream, and dressed herself. She wasn’t entirely eager to face Jacob again. He’d seen a side
of her she never knew she had. Seen her in the throes of raw, aching abandon. She’d lost all her defenses — and she wasn’t sure if she could rebuild them.

  Jacob came bounding down the hill from the direction of the road, looking infuriatingly good-humored and casual. “Hey,” he said gently, approaching her more slowly and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I fixed the bike. We can get going. Only another fifteen miles or so to the pick-up point.”

  “You fixed the bike?” Ariel asked incredulously. “I thought you said you couldn’t fix the bike.”

  “I lied. I thought you could use a rest. It’s an easy fix, actually, as long as you have a chain breaker with you. I always carry one.” He grinned at her roguishly — and then had the gall to actually wink.

  Ariel was flabbergasted — and furious. How dare he trick her like this, see her weakness and lie to her to indulge it? Had he planned that scene on the grass?

  “That was inexcusable,” she told him icily. “I can’t stand dishonesty.” She stalked up the hill, grabbed the repaired bicycle, and started up the road without waiting for Jacob.

  The remainder of their ride was conducted in silence. Ariel was too angry to notice the discomfort of her aching legs, her sore back. They made it back to the van without a hitch. Ariel didn’t speak to Jacob as they drove back to the hotel. They separated in the lobby, Ariel intentionally allowing Jacob to take the first elevator alone so she wouldn’t have to share it with him.

  It was only when she was back in her room, stripping the spandex off her aching body, that Ariel cooled down enough to recognize how hypocritical she was being. She’d told Jacob that she couldn’t stand dishonesty. But she was pretending to be someone she wasn’t in order to trick him into revealing his potentially incriminating secrets.

  What a total mess, she thought, collapsing on her bed.

  Chapter Eight

  “I don’t know if cyclists take drugs, Theo,” Ariel said, wincing as she paced the carpet. “They might just be intensely masochistic.” Every muscle in Ariel’s body was screaming. She could barely walk. Jacob’s “easy” ride had nearly killed her. And had completely destroyed her self-respect.

  Not that she’d told Theo about that. Her ears grew hot just thinking about it. Jacob had driven her out of her senses. She’d been utterly shameless. She’d been willing to sacrifice everything in the heat of the moment — her journalistic integrity, the story, her career.

  What if Jacob hadn’t stopped? What if she’d gotten pregnant? An icy wave of panic coursed through her, followed by images of golden haired babies with golden eyes, their golden-eyed father standing over them, looking down at them with that unbelievably intense expression. An expression of absolute concentration. Devotion.

  Love.

  “Fascinating,” Theo was saying drily. Ariel could hear the sounds of traffic in the background and knew that Theo must be walking back to the office with his daily iced caramel macchiato, tall, non-fat milk.

  “X-Ray is going to break a story about mental illness in professional cycling. Good work, Ariel. You’re ready for The Dr. Oz Show. Jacob Hunter can get live therapy with shrinks in the studio audience.”

  Ariel groaned. “Theo, I’m kidding. It’s not that I think Jacob’s clean. It’s just that I’m starting to understand how hard he rides. How good he really is. I think maybe he just doesn’t respond to pain like a regular person.”

  Or else maybe he likes pain, she thought. Yesterday he’d pulled back from the brink of an unbelievably sensual experience. When their bodies separated, Ariel had felt it as keenly as a blow. But maybe the feeling was less powerful for him? She fell back onto the bed and her body protested. Loudly.

  “Bottom line,” Theo said as a car horn blared. “Drug abuse is the major issue in sports. Sure, masochism may be relevant. You could maybe make Jacob Hunter’s masochism into a human-interest piece. A one-column article. But, Ariel, this is your opportunity to write a feature story with serious merit and mass appeal. In the world of journalism, merit and mass appeal means hard-hitting scandal. The scandal is there. Find it.” The phone muffled briefly and Ariel heard Theo shouting.

  “Goddamn gypsy cabs,” he muttered. “So listen, darling, as I was saying. Illegal drugs, yes. Jacob Hunter’s use of visualization techniques to control pre-race anxiety, no. Get it? Do you see the difference?”

  “I see it,” Ariel responded.

  “Good.” Theo’s voice sounded peppier, clearer, and Ariel knew that he’d entered the lobby of the office building. “I read an article the other day about Hunter having a bar fight with some local tough.”

  “I’m on that already, Theo,” said Ariel. “Brian Jenks. He lives in Leadville.”

  “That’s what I read the other day,” said Theo. “What I read the other day is, as we call it in this profession, old news. Have you found out anything new? Have you talked to Brian Jenks?”

  “Not yet,” Ariel admitted. “I found his home number in the phone book. I was going to call him today.”

  “Then why are we still on the phone, my dear?” said Theo brightly. “You’re finally making sense. Now go make sense out of Brian Jenks.”

  At the abrupt sound of the dial tone, Ariel let her phone drop out of her hand. She should have known she was due for a lashing from Theo. After all, she’d been ignoring all his calls and hadn’t been sending email updates.

  “He’s right,” she said aloud. She’d been avoiding the hard issues. She hadn’t really been digging to find out about drug use. Why was that? The answer came swiftly. Unbidden.

  She didn’t want to believe it was true. Didn’t want to believe that Jacob was living a lie. She’d gone into this thing wanting to take him down a peg. Now she had to admit she was falling under his spell. Starting to believe the myth. It was hard not to believe it when you saw him ride. The grace. The power. She remembered Steve Fratello’s words. He’s the best the sport has to offer. She couldn’t help but want to believe that Jacob’s talent and passion made him the best. That he had something you couldn’t find in a syringe.

  Well that attitude wasn’t going to win her a Pulitzer. At this rate, it might even get her fired. She fumbled for her phone and notebook. Without another moment’s hesitation, she found the number she was looking for and dialed. The phone rang and rang and rang again. Just as she was about to give up, she heard a click.

  “What do you want?” came a gruff male voice.

  “Hello,” she said. “Brian Jenks?”

  • • •

  Jacob stood in the hotel lobby. He’d left his room almost an hour ago but hadn’t managed to make up his mind as to where to go. He’d walked out of the elevator and just stopped.

  He wasn’t sure what to do with himself. It was a strange feeling. Usually, he had something on his plate. A training ride. A morale-building lunch with the guys. Something. Today loomed empty in front of him. Empty because … Well, because he knew what he wanted to be doing. He wanted to get back in the elevator and punch Ariel’s floor number. He wanted to show up at her door with a bouquet of columbines and a box of condoms and finish what he’d started. He wanted to slide into her and feel her clamping around him. Her thighs clutching him. He wanted to hear her moan again with that wild abandon.

  To be honest, he hadn’t expected it. Even after the night in the pool, he hadn’t really believed that Ariel Hayes, that prickly reporter, could let herself go so magnificently, so enticingly. It was driving him mad. It was all he could think about.

  His cell rang and he declined a call from Liz. The fourth of the day. He raked his hands through his hair. Guilt and irritation. He had to get out of this indecisive funk. There was one thing he should be doing with his free afternoon, but he wasn’t sure he was up to it. Visiting hours were two P.M. to five P.M. His reluctance to get on his motorcycle and make the short trip made him feel awful. But it wou
ld make him feel worse to go and find what he didn’t want to find …

  He had to stop hovering in the hotel lobby. The artificial light made him feel agitated. He loved being outdoors. Even if he wasn’t going cycling or getting on his motorcycle, he could at least take a walk around Vail Village.

  But then he’d be less likely to run into Ariel.

  He should go to visiting hours. That’s what he should do. He scrolled through the numbers on his phone. He’d call the hospital first. Let her know he was coming.

  Suddenly, he realized that he’d been zoning out, staring at the elevator. The doors opened and his teammates Steve and Randall walked toward him.

  “Jakey,” said Steve, grinning. “You turning into a lounge lizard? I’m going to have to tell Coach that you don’t know what to do with yourself on relaxation days. Ben said he saw you in the lobby an hour ago.”

  “We’re going out for avocado shakes,” said Randall. “Want to join us for a fat blast?”

  Jacob tried to return their friendly smiles.

  “I had a salmon-avocado wrap for breakfast,” he said. “I might be done with avocadoes for the day.”

  “So that’s your secret?” Steve laughed, and Jacob jerked slightly. He pressed his phone screen-down into his thigh in a quick, involuntary motion. Then he took a deep breath as Steve kept talking.

  “Everyone wants to know how you blaze those hills. Salmon-avocado breakfast wraps. Not the sexiest answer. But good for the wrap industry.”

  “I do endorse the wrap industry,” said Jacob. Had his teammates noticed his strange reaction to the word “secret”? It didn’t seem like it. They seemed as unrattled and friendly as ever. “I’ve been holding out on you gentlemen,” continued Jacob. “I also add cheese.”