by Mya Wood
They walked in silence. Finally, Bianca said, “Please don’t think it was because I don’t want you.” Her voice lowered to a whisper. “I do.”
They reached the hedge. Landry took three deep breaths and convinced himself that he could face whatever seniors were waiting for him. He stepped through the hedge and was relieved to see that there were none. He grabbed Bianca’s hand and dragged her to her room.
“Get your bathing suit and towel,” he said. “We’re going to spend the day on the beach.”
I don’t want to, thought Bianca. I want to hold you, and kiss you, and taste you, and…
But Landry shoved her gently through the door and paced up and down in front of her room as she grabbed her suit and her towel and a bottle of water…and sunscreen…and…Bianca looked around the room…she gave up. She was so confused. This would have to do. She shoved it all in a cloth bag and stepped out the door.
Landry stopped pacing. “Ready? Let’s go.”
He grabbed Bianca’s hand and pulled her along the walkway.
“Wait. My key!” said Bianca, digging in her heels.
“Forget it,” said Landry. “I’ve got a master, remember?” He stopped at the foot of the stairs and took a deep breath before turning to Bianca. “And now, we’re going up to get my stuff,” he said calmly. “And then we’re going to spend the day on the beach…well, eventually.”
Bianca looked into his eyes and finally understood. She leaned into him and kissed him. She took his bottom lip in her teeth and gently pulled on it as she moved back.
“After you,” she said hoarsely.
They went up the stairs and into Landry’s apartment. Bianca dropped her beach bag and followed him into the bedroom. They both stripped their clothes off as they went, and it wasn’t long before they stood before each other naked.
They spent a torturous few minutes running their fingertips over each other, and then they made their way to the bed. Then they took all of the pent-up desire and longing, and they let it go. They touched and teased and nibbled. They caressed and stroked and tasted. They sighed and moaned and panted. And finally, Bianca could stand it no more and begged him to make them one.
She couldn’t believe Landry’s stamina. He brought her to the edge twice, and then with a move here and a stroke there, he pushed her over. But Bianca had a few moves too, and when she could feel herself getting close for the third time, she knew he was too. She arched her back and shifted her hips and whispered, “Please.” They had pulled their nerve endings tighter and tighter until they were drawn back like a slingshot.
Landry looked down at her. He whispered her name, once, twice, three times, and then the slingshot let go, firing them out into the inky darkness of space, where they hovered motionless, and then the stars around them exploded.
It took them both a long, long time to come back. For one brief moment, Bianca wasn’t even fully sure she hadn’t died. For once in her life, all her body parts were silent, although she could hear a faint humming noise in the back of her mind.
Several minutes passed – neither wanted to move, or to disturb the other person. Then Landry raised his head and kissed that spot on her neck.
“Mmmmm….” Bianca began to caress his back.
Another few minutes passed and then, with a sigh, Landry moved away from her and headed for the bathroom. When he came back, he saw that Bianca had moved over to the other edge of the bed.
“Come here,” she said, “show me how you sleep.”
Landry got into the bed and pulled the sheet up to his waist. He turned on his side with his back to her and pulled a pillow down under his head. Bianca moved up behind him and began to lightly trace patterns over his back and arm with her fingernails. A few minutes later, a change in his breathing told her he was asleep. She let her hand drop away, and as quietly as she could, moved away from him, turning her back to his.
Bianca debated about what to do. Should she get up and have a shower? She didn’t want to wake him. Should she go back to her room and wait for him to come to her?
Because she knew that he would.
Oh yes, Bianca knew they would be doing this again. And honestly, she couldn’t believe how fantastic it had been. Man, Landry had found every spot on her that was sensitive. Bianca had read an article about two scientists who had won the Nobel Prize for ‘mapping the human genome’. She thought Landry deserved equal accolades for mapping the human ‘g-spot’. Bianca couldn’t decide if he just knew all the right spots or if he created them when he touched her.
A sound filtered through to her brain. It was raining again. Bianca decided that she loved the rain. She smiled and closed her eyes and went to sleep.
Neither of them moved for five hours.
Landry woke first and looked at the clock. My God! It was after 1:00. He had gone out like a light, into a deep, dreamless sleep, his body gently replenishing its energy cells after the sleepless night, and the…exercise.
He turned over and looked at Bianca. Man, he thought, that had been the best! They had connected on every level…at every turn. He was glad that she didn’t get all coy, as so many did, and pretend like she had very little experience. Bianca gave as good as she got, and it had been so hot that Landry was surprised they hadn’t burst into flames.
Today was Wednesday. She was here until Friday. He did some mental calculations and decided he might want to pick up some more condoms.
Bianca stirred in her sleep. She opened her eyes and took in her surroundings. She figured out where she was, and a smile started across her face. She looked sideways to see Landry leaning on one hand and smiling down at her.
“It’s raining,” he said, taking his free hand and lazily tracing one finger from her throat down to her navel.
“Yes,” she said huskily, mirroring his action, “so I guess that whole ‘we spent the day at the beach’ fiction isn’t going to fly with the seniors.”
“Aw, I don’t really think it would have anyway, do you?” he asked with a gasp as she started doing interesting things with her hands.
“No, they seem like a pretty crafty bunch. They’ve been arou…” Bianca finished the sentence with a moan.
Oh, my Lord, she thought.
And then, they melted into each other again.
Chapter 9
I’m starving,” said Landry.
They lay together, their arms and legs carelessly draped over each other. The rain had stopped and a cool breeze wafted through the window, gently drying their sweat-soaked skin.
“Me too,” said Bianca. “We never had any breakfast.”
“Or lunch,” answered Landry. He smiled at her and kissed her forehead. “I got a little distracted.”
Bianca smiled back at him but didn’t say anything. She was afraid to ruin this perfect moment by saying something stupid. She wasn’t used to reticence, and it was hard for her to keep her mouth shut, but she managed.
For a moment, anyway.
“I’ve got stuff to make salad,” she said.
Oh shit, you finally mentioned the salad. She could have kicked herself.
The corners of Landry’s mouth twitched, but he didn’t laugh. “I could eat salad. I like salad.”
We’ve got to stop saying the word ‘salad’, thought Bianca.
“Well I bought all these veggies and stuff to make sal…to make lunches while I was here. I’ve got lots.”
“Mmm…sounds good. Will it taste as good as you do?” asked Landry, leaning down and running his tongue down her neck.
Bianca moaned and grabbed Landry by the hair, pulling him away from her. She pushed him onto his back and swung her leg over him.
“If you’re going to keep doing that, we’re going to starve to death, because it makes me want to do this…” Bianca kissed her way along his collarbone, lingering on the one spot she had found that drove him wild.
It was Landry’s turn to moan and grab her hair, but he didn’t pull
her away. At least, not for a moment.
“It’s not going to be that romantic when my stomach starts to growl,” he said with a chuckle, lifting Bianca up off of him and sitting up to swing his legs off the side of the bed.
Mental note to self – no growling during sex, said Bianca’s brain.
“Look,” she said, “Why don’t you have a shower here? I’ll go down and shower at my place, and then make the sa…lunch.”
“Good idea,” said Landry, his eyes twinkling, “I was going to suggest we both shower here, but…” He rubbed his stomach. “We can save that for another time.”
A day and a half. I only have him for another day and a half. Bianca’s heart started to panic. And two nights, her body reminded her.
Landry disappeared into the bathroom, calling over his shoulder. “Twenty minutes?”
“Make it thirty.”
Bianca threw on her t-shirt and shorts. She tossed her underwear into the cloth bag and slipped on her sandals. Thirty minutes for a shower and to make a salad; she’d better move it.
“Take the key,” he called back. “It’s hanging by the door. Do you want me to bring the wine?”
“No,” replied Bianca simply.
She slipped down the stairs and along the pathway. There was no one about. They’d either all killed each other after being stuck in their rooms with nothing to do but argue, or they were all at the mall. Either way, she was glad.
Bianca went into her room and threw the bag on her bed. She stripped off her shorts and t-shirt and headed for the bathroom. Then she turned back.
You’re having company, you idiot.
Bianca grabbed her clothes and bag and stuffed them in her suitcase. She got clean clothes out of the dresser and then continued on to the bathroom like a civilized person.
For a full minute straight, Bianca stood under the hot water and soaped herself all over. And suddenly, she was crying. This was unusual, as Bianca wasn’t much of a crier. In fact, she hadn’t even shed a tear at her own father’s funeral. Instead she had maintained a determined stiff upper lip while her mother sat beside her clutching her hand and turning into a puddle. Her mother hadn’t wailed or keened…one didn’t do that in their family…but she had quietly wept tissue after tissue full of tears.
Bianca, however, met life’s many miseries with anger and rebellion, not tears and sadness. She was the epitome of ‘pick yourself up, dust yourself off…’ except she liked to ‘pick herself up, kick the shit out of someone, and THEN dust herself off…’ and occasionally ‘drink herself into a stupor, then pick herself up…’
But she didn’t cry.
So why was she standing here now blubbering like a baby, when she really didn’t have time to indulge this kind of sentimental, hormonal nonsense? There was salad to be made, after all. Bianca tried to give herself a stern talking-to. Enough of this, you’ll be all blotchy and red-eyed. Finally, she turned off the hot water and stood under the cold until it shocked her to her senses.
That’s better, you damn fool, she told herself and then dried off. She got dressed and started pulling vegetables out of the fridge. Then she stopped and went over to the door, propping it open a little so that Landry wouldn’t have to hang around outside waiting for her to answer a knock.
She set out the dishes and cutlery on the table by the window and wondered if it would be better to leave the blinds opened or closed. Closed blinds seemed a little furtive, like they had something to hide, but open blinds were an invitation for people to take numerous strolls up the path to look in. Leave them open, she decided, but if we end up on the bed again, make sure we close them first.
Salad, Bianca, salad, said her brain.
Right, she answered, turning back to the kitchen area. She chopped and rinsed and shredded. There wasn’t much in the way of serving bowls. Instead she found a plastic thing with a lot of scratch marks in the bottom, but she wasn’t sure it wasn’t supposed to be a dishpan. There was a metal serving bowl, but it had a big dent in the side – some senior with cabin fever, she guessed – and it sat lopsided. But it would have to do, she concluded, there was simply nothing else but a cooking pot with a handle.
Well, wouldn’t Valerie be rolling on the floor laughing if she could see me now? Bianca Watson, the original Queen of ‘defrost it, nuke it, and eat it out of the package’, is worrying about appropriate serving utensils. What’s next? Matching tablecloths and napkins?
Bianca shook her head and started laughing. And even though a small part of her brain was trying to remind her that they had already had the discussion about laughing out loud when you were alone, she wasn’t listening.
“You have a great laugh,” said Landry from the doorway.
Bianca turned around and started blushing.
“Yes, I know,” she said airily, “But that’s only because I practice it when I’m alone. These things don’t just come naturally, you know.”
Bianca, you are the dumbest woman on the planet. The dumbest!
Landry walked toward her. Alert! Alert! Bianca’s nerve endings manned their battle stations. Landry set her book down on the desk and watched her work.
“That looks good,” he said. “Can I do anything to help?”
Bianca handed him a plate with some crackers. “You can put this on the table. Sorry I don’t have any bread. I just have to finish slicing this tomato and we’re all set.”
Landry put the plate on the table and then went and stood in front of the lists. “What are these?” he asked. “Do you always redecorate your hotel rooms?”
“Well, that picture needed covering up, don’t you think?” said Bianca, and then stopped. She turned to him slowly and said, “If you tell me that you painted that, I am going to slash this knife across my jugular and end it right now.” She brandished the knife at him.
Landry laughed. “No, you’re safe for the moment.”
“Until the next time I open my mouth and something stupid comes out,” muttered Bianca to herself. “Okay,” she said aloud, “Salad!”
They sat at the small table and ate. The salad looked good and tasted good too. Of course, Bianca thought, we’re both so hungry that shredded pillow feathers might be tasty. Between bites, they talked about life.
Landry was delighted that Bianca didn’t ask the ‘fan’ questions. Of course, he mused, she wasn’t a fan, so that might explain it. He had found that whenever he had a conversation with a girl, a get-to-know-you thing, it was always, ‘what’s it like to be rich and famous?’ not ‘what’s it like to be Landry Hampton?’
Bianca didn’t do that though. Instead she asked him about his childhood and his family. She told him about her father but glossed over it so quickly that Landry knew it was still an open wound for her. He told her about his sister Melody and his Cystic Fibrosis Foundation. She asked questions about the work they did and how they raised money. She laughed when he told her about the cruise.
“Kind of a weird way to live,” was her comment about making money by just being there to say ‘hi’.
Landry shrugged. “Whatever it takes to raise the money,” he said.
“Next time, set up a kissing booth,” said Bianca. “Trust me. You’ll make a killing.” She stood up and gathered the dishes. “Would you like some dessert? I have chocolate chip cookies.”
“No, thanks. Do you want to go sit on the beach? The sand will be wet, but…”
“Yes, I do. Just give me a sec to rinse these things off.”
Landry watched her work at the sink. He really, really liked this girl. She was such a mass of contradictions. She was smart, he could tell that, but she also said all these goofy things. Thank God it wasn’t him for once, he reflected. He could just imagine telling the guys about her. They won’t believe that I was the one who said all the right things! he thought.
She has a great sense of humor, too, but she tends to direct it at herself, mused Landry. It was very ‘let me make fun of myself before you ha
ve a chance to’. Yes, she had layers and layers of protective walls built around her, and he thought it would be interesting to peel them away one by one.
But you only have less than two days, said his brain. And any peeling you’re doing seems to be in another area.
That was another part of it that Landry was enjoying immensely. Bianca was incredibly good in bed. Sex wasn’t a spectator sport for her. She wasn’t wild and crazy; she just wasn’t afraid to show that she enjoyed it and knew how to make him enjoy it too.
Ahem, said his brain, if you’re planning on standing up from this table any time soon, you might want to focus your thoughts elsewhere.