by Bonnie Pega
Max sighed and tugged her to her feet, his eyes gleaming. “Caitie, the things I want to do with you are not appropriate for young eyes. I leave tomorrow for Atlanta for three days. I need to be with you before I go.”
Caitlin felt a little breathless at that and her resolve weakened. “Max, I just don’t think—”
Max slid his palms slowly up her arms to her shoulders, then urged her closer. “Ah, sweet Cait. I’ve needed you desperately all week,” he said, his voice a husky rasp.
Caitlin tried to gather her rapidly scattering thoughts, but couldn’t. His fingers were doing a marvelous dance up and down her spine. “Max—”
“Please, Caitie,” he entreated her softly as he ran his hands up underneath the bottom of her T-shirt and splayed them over her back.
“Max—” Caitlin’s eyes fluttered closed.
“Please, Caitie.” His hands moved to her front and ne teased her breasts over the lace of her bra.
“Max—”
He urged her into the cradle of his thighs and pressed her into his growing hardness. “Please, Caitie.”
“I—ah—I’ll call Donna.”
“I’ll pick you up at six-thirty,” Max said in satisfaction.
“I’m meeting with a new vendor at six for a few minutes,” Caitlin murmured, trailing her fingers up and down his chest. “I’ll come straight to your house afterward. I’ll even bring supper with me.”
Max agreed immediately. With the touch of Caitlin’s hands on his chest, he would have agreed to anything—even Tofu Surprise.
“Hi,” Caitlin greeted Max when he opened his front door to her that evening. She lifted the paper bag she held in one hand. “Here’s supper.”
At Max’s skeptical look she grinned. “Vegetarian subs on whole wheat. Hey, what’re you doing?” she exclaimed as Max took the bag from her and strode into the kitchen.
Caitlin heard the refrigerator door open and shut, then Max came back into the room, walking slowly to her, one hand loosening his tie, which he dropped carelessly to the floor. His belt quickly followed. Caitlin’s breath came in short, quick pants. “I guess you’re not hungry right now, huh?”
“Not for food.” He reached out and pulled the bottom of her T-shirt loose from her jeans waistband.
“What are you hungry for?” Even as she asked it, his fingers flew to work the buttons of his shirt free.
Max answered the question by sweeping Caitlin up into his arms and heading straight to his bedroom. He put her down next to the bed and shrugged off his shirt in one easy movement.
Things were moving so fast, Caitlin thought. They always seemed to move fast with Max, barely leaving her time to catch her breath. “Max,” she gasped, “Wait. Don’t you think we—”
“No.” Max unsnapped her jeans.
“You don’t even know what I was going to ask.”
“I know you talk too much,” he mumbled, lifting her onto her toes and pressing an eager kiss on her lips. His tongue demanded and received entrance, and swept into her mouth in a series of erotic thrusts. When her body turned warm and pliant in his hands, he tugged the T-shirt over her head and undid her lacy bra.
Suddenly it seemed as if he weren’t moving fast enough, and Caitlin arched her back, pressing her bare breasts against his chest.
Max shuddered as he held her more fully against him. He ached for her, burned for her. “I need you now, sweet Cait. Now.” He took off his trousers, then her jeans, leaving her clad only in bikini panties. His ravenous eyes feasted briefly on the creamy white flesh before he smoothed the lace down her legs.
He fell with her onto the bed, his mouth finding hers with a voracious hunger. His hands seemed to be everywhere at once, and Caitlin gave herself over completely to the passion he evoked. She cried out when his seeking fingers found her most sensitive point, and he moved to capture that cry with his mouth.
He entered her swiftly, and they both moaned as their bodies strained together. Max’s last coherent thought as he found triumphant release was Mine. She’s mine.
Afterward Max cuddled a passion-spent Caitlin in his arms, and dreamed of spending every night with her like this. He closed his eyes and saw him and Caitlin tucking a sleepy-eyed Jordan into bed, kissing the boy good night, and gently shutting the door. Hand in hand they’d go straight to their own bedroom and make sweet love all night long.
“Max? Your dog just climbed into bed with us.”
“He’s used to sleeping with me.” Max settled her more securely against his shoulder.
“Oh.” Caitlin smiled to herself. So Max let his dog on the furniture. Maybe there was hope for him yet.
“When Charlemagne comes home with you, does he sleep with you?”
“Sometimes.” Caitlin’s eyes fluttered closed.
Max yawned and rested his cheek against her hair. “Well, when we get married, your cat and my dog’ll just have to sleep elsewhere.”
Caitlin lay beside him, her body stiff against his while she stared unseeing at the ceiling. Her old adversary, Panic, showed its ugly face again and taunted her. Get married, it sneered, so you can become weak and powerless all over again. Trust someone other than yourself and see what happens. After all, look what happened with Brad. And with your father.
As soon as she heard Max’s slow, even breaths and knew he was asleep, she eased herself out of his arms. She hurriedly dressed and tiptoed downstairs.
She drove home, hearing Max’s words over and over again. When we get married … When we get married … When we get married. When she arrived home, she collapsed on the sofa, her knees unable to hold her up any longer. Her hands trembled.
She’d thought it was just the sex she was afraid of, but now she knew it went much deeper than that. An affair was one thing, but marriage? The very idea terrified her. Could she actually put not only her heart but her future into someone else’s hands?
No! Never again. Never again would she depend on another person, another man, for anything. She was strong and independent. She would rely on no one but herself, she told herself, ignoring the soft yearning inside to run back to Max’s arms, Max’s bed.
Max smiled and nuzzled his face into the soft hair that tickled his nose. He planned on waking up like this every morning for the rest of his life. He reached out to pull her closer, but his hands encountered more hair. A lot more hair. Max’s eyes flew open and he sat straight up in bed. Cholly raised his head up to look at him, gave a disgruntled sigh, and settled back down on the pillow.
“Caitlin?” Max looked around the room. Her clothes were gone. Maybe she was in the kitchen. He tugged on his pants and went down to check. She wasn’t there either. He looked out front for her car. It was gone.
Max frowned and glanced at his watch. She probably went home to shower and change for work. He wished she’d awakened him first. If he hurried, he might have just enough time to call her from the airport before his plane took off.
When the phone rang, Caitlin knew who it was. She let it peal a half dozen times before she finally answered it. “Hello?”
“Hi, sweetheart. I was beginning to think you’d left early for work.”
“I’m ready to leave now,” she said.
“I missed you this morning,” Max said huskily. “I’d looked forward to waking up with you in my arms.”
“I needed to get home.”
“I know. But I’d have loved another chance to hold you and kiss you before I left. I wish I didn’t have to go.”
“I hope you have a nice trip,” Caitlin said politely.
Max frowned. She seemed distant this morning. “I’ll call you tonight.”
“That’s not necessary.”
He couldn’t escape the niggling feeling that something was wrong. “Yes, it is. I’ll miss you, Cait.”
“You’ll probably be too busy to miss me,” she said lightly. “Well, I have to go. I have several orders to get together first thing.”
“Caitlin—” Damn! He heard the last call for
his flight. “I have to go. I’ll call you.”
“Don’t—” But he’d already hung up.
When the phone rang that evening, Caitlin just looked at it. She wrapped her arms around herself and willed the bell to stop. It rang a dozen times before it fell silent.
An hour later it rang again. When it eventually stopped, she took the receiver off the hook. She needed to hear his voice so much, but that very need frightened her. She didn’t want to need anyone. It had taken seven years for her to learn to be strong, and every time Max came near, he threatened that strength with the feelings of vulnerability he brought out in her.
“Mom?” A sleepy-eyed Jordan peered at her from the bottom of the stair. “I thought I heard the phone keep ringing.”
“It’s okay, honey. Go on, get back in bed, okay?” Caitlin smiled reassuringly at Jordan as he headed toward his bedroom, then her gaze returned to the telephone. Why did everything have to be so complicated? she thought wearily.
She went upstairs and sat on Jordan’s bed for a long time, watching him sleep. It was comforting to know that he, at least, was undisturbed by worries. She finally went back downstairs to check and recheck the locks on every door and window, even though she knew the danger lay, not in the world outside, but in the tauntings of that old nemesis that even now wouldn’t leave her alone.
It was closer to dawn than midnight when she finally slept, a fitful sleep troubled by dark, shadowy dreams.
She awoke a couple of hours later, feeling as if she’d had no rest at all. She did look better than she felt, though, she acknowledged as she eyed her reflection in the mirror after she’d dressed in clean jeans and a T-shirt. She went into the living room and had barely replaced the receiver when the telephone rang. Before she realized what she was doing, her hand had already lifted the receiver.
“Where were you last night?”
“Hello, Max,” she said evenly. “I’m sorry. Did you call last night?” The warm languidness that she always felt upon hearing his voice began to weaken her, but she determinedly stiffened her resolve.
“Are you all right?” Max demanded.
“I’m just fine. I’m running a little late though. Thanks for calling. I hope your trip is going well.”
“Caitie, what the hell is going on? You’re talking to me as if we were just introduced at a party.”
It was so very good to hear his voice, she thought, even if it was currently laced with frustration. But she needed time. She needed room. He was crowding her, and it was stirring up all the old panicky feelings inside. He wanted more than she could give. He wanted it all.
“Everything’s fine, Max,” she said quietly. “But I do need to get ready for work. I’ll talk to you later.” She hung up the phone, and just to be sure Max didn’t call back, she left the receiver off again.
She brought up her hands to rub her aching temples. It was going to be a horrible day, she thought. Barely seven o’clock and she already had the beginnings of a blistering headache. Maybe it was just as well, a small voice inside her said. At least it camouflaged the heartache.
When she went into Jordan’s room to wake him up, he was sitting up in bed and scratching some suspicious-looking red bumps on his arm.
He looked up and frowned. “Mom, I have a headache and I itch.”
Caitlin laid a hand on his forehead. It felt a little warm. And the rash looked awfully familiar. “You know what, kiddo? I think you’ve got what Jerry had.”
“Chicken pops?”
Caitlin smiled. “Chicken pox, yes. Why don’t you get dressed? I’ll see if Dr. Hardy can take a look at you.”
“Will it mean a shot?”
“No, sweetheart.” As Jordan jumped out of bed with a muffled whoop, Caitlin felt a sudden pang. She wished with all her heart that there was a shot that could make her feel better. But she knew nothing could ease the pain inside.
After a visit to the doctor, who gave Caitlin a tube of cream to take care of Jordan’s itching, she decided it wouldn’t hurt to take her son to work with her and let him play quietly in the office.
When they got there, she found the red light blinking on the answering machine. It didn’t surprise her at all to hear Max’s voice after she pushed the play button. “Caitlin, where are you? Is everything all right? The operator said your home phone is out of order. It’s eleven o’clock and you’re not at the greenhouse. I thought you usually worked nine to one on Saturdays. I’ll call back in an hour.”
A pause followed, then another message. “It’s eleven forty-five. Why aren’t you at work? Your home phone is still out of order. I’m going to call back at one, and if you’re still not here, I’m sending the police over to check things out.”
The phone rang at twelve-thirty. Caitlin steeled herself as she picked it up. “Love, Incorporated.”
“Caitlin!” Max bellowed. “Where the hell have you been?”
“Hello, Max. I ran Jordan by the doctor this morning.”
“Doctor? Is he all right? I’ll catch the first plane back—”
“It’s just chicken pox, Max. He’s fine.”
“What’s the matter with your home phone? It’s out of order. All I’ve gotten are busy signals.”
“I’ll check it out,” Caitlin murmured. “I hope your trip is going well.”
“I miss you like hell, sweetheart.”
I miss you too, she thought to herself, but didn’t say the words out loud. “Thanks for calling, Max. I, uh, I have some things to do here before I can get Jordan back home. I’m sure you’re busy too.”
“Not too busy to talk to you.” Max sounded worried. “What’s the matter, Caitie? Is something else wrong? You don’t sound like yourself.”
“I’m just tired, Max. Everything is fine.”
“Dammit, Caitlin! Why are you speaking so formally to me. For God’s sake, don’t push me away again.”
Caitlin’s eyes filled with tears, but she kept her anguish from showing in her voice. “I have to go, Max.”
“I’ll call you tonight. Your phone better be fixed by then.” Max’s words were clipped. “We have to talk.”
“Yes,” Caitlin said miserably. “I guess we do.”
The safe haven of Max’s embrace beckoned like a lighthouse beacon in a dense fog. She wanted to be in the harbor of his arms and never venture out to the seas alone again. But she resolutely pushed the thought away. She couldn’t lean on anyone. Not ever again.
When the telephone rang that night, Caitlin let Jordan answer it. She listened as he happily told Max about his “chicken pops” and about getting to miss school next week. When Jordan handed the phone to Caitlin, her knuckles clenched white on the receiver and she took several deep, steadying breaths before lifting it to her ear.
“Hello, Max.”
“How are you, Caitie?” Max’s voice sounded subdued.
“I’m okay. How’s your business?”
“It’s going well. I should be able to leave tomorrow afternoon.” Max chose his words prudently as he tried to pick his way through the mine field she’d thrown in front of him. He felt as if everything might blow up at any moment.
Why, in God’s name, couldn’t she tell him what was wrong? He’d told her he’d fight all the dragons she had, but he couldn’t fight what he couldn’t see. “Talk to me, Caitie,” he urged softly.
“I just need some time, Max. Everything’s moving too fast. I need some time and space.”
“What are you saying?”
Caitlin made sure her voice would sound cool and steady before she spoke. “I’m saying that perhaps … we shouldn’t see each other for a while.”
“Not see each other?” Max asked cautiously. What was going on here? His heart began to pound in slow, painful thuds. “For how long?”
“I don’t know.”
“Caitie, I—look, we can’t discuss something like this over the telephone. I’ll be back by three tomorrow afternoon. I’ll come straight to your house.”
“I do
n’t think that’s such a good idea—”
“I’ll be by tomorrow afternoon.” His tone left no room for argument. “You’d better be at home.”
Caitlin didn’t sleep much that night either, arguing with herself as she lay in what she admitted was a very lonely bed. She loved being with Max. She loved making love with Max. But she didn’t want to have to depend on him—or anybody—for anything. She couldn’t risk everything on just one roll of the dice. Why couldn’t they just continue their affair? It didn’t have to end in marriage, did it?
They could go on as they were doing now, spending pleasant evenings together, making love passionately. She wasn’t totally comfortable with this plan, but she was happy to come up with any kind of solution at all that would let her keep Max in her life without having to put it all on the line.
When Max arrived late Sunday afternoon, Caitlin greeted him with a smile and a kiss. If he’d been the sort of person to drop his jaw in astonishment, he would have tripped over his chin. But instead he eyed her with wariness.
“How’s Jordan?” was the first thing he asked.
“He’s not feeling too bad, but he gets tired easily. He’s taking a nap right now.” She hooked her hand through his arm and led him to the sofa. “Tell me about your trip.”
“Caitlin,” Max began, “we need to talk. Last night—”
“I’m sorry about what I said last night. Can we just forget it?”
“No. No, we can’t. Caitie, what’s going on?”
“Everything’s fine now. I did some thinking last night, that’s all, and everything’s okay.”
Max relaxed a little. She seemed to be completely satisfied and happy. He had to understand, though, what had made her try to pull away. “Caitie, I’d really like to know what’s been on your mind the past couple of days. Obviously you’ve worked it all out, but I believe we need to be straight with each other about what we’re feeling.”
She fidgeted. He’s right, she thought, but she hated trying to discuss it. “I just felt, well, I felt crowded. I felt like maybe I was being pushed into a long-term commitment.”
“And you don’t want that,” Max said carefully, his face blank, his tone neutral.