With an agility of a true athlete, Jon kept his balance as he reached behind his back to stroke between her thighs, which had gone from damp to wet with her juices. Instantly her muscles contracted around his probing finger, and he let out a tortured groan as he pulled out of her mouth.
“I can’t hold back anymore,” he said between gasps as he quickly folded her thighs against her chest and positioned himself between them. He slid his penis into her saturated sex and leaned forward, and they took a moment to cling to each other at the most personal of attachments before breaking apart slightly, their eyes locked on each other. Their gazes remained unbroken as they began to move together, and it made their intimacy even more so.
Miranda had never known anything like it.
Jon rocked his pelvis, increasing his thrusts. He loved making love to Miranda. She excited him in the way no other woman had. She had a lovely body, with nipples that reminded him of Hershey’s kisses, a plush backside that filled his hands, those shapely, impossibly long legs, and the moistest sex he’d ever known. Joining his body with hers was pure heaven.
It was also incredibly graceful. Sex was generally a messy act, but when he and Miranda made love it was like one of those hopelessly perfect love scenes he saw in movies, except it continued long after the camera cut to the next scene. They were as well coordinated in bed as they were on the dance floor. All afternoon, and yes, even at church, she stayed in his thoughts. The knowledge that Miranda had finally consented to give in to the call of nature and include sex in their relationship made his long wait worthwhile. While he hoped the injured on the plane would make complete recoveries, Jon even felt grateful for those terrifying moments on the flight to Minneapolis, because that had set the stage for them to spend the holiday together. Her presence had certainly brightened these last few days. He craved her like a child craved a highly desired toy. She was his present, and he had just opened her up for the first of what he promised himself would be many play times.
Chapter 23
“Miranda.”
Jon’s soft voice floated into her ears. “Mmm.”
“Wake up. It’s ten past two.”
“Mmm.”
“Wake up. We’ve got to get moving, or else we’ll be late. Your parents are expecting us, remember?”
She abruptly sat up, her hair falling in to her face in a way that made him wish he could lay her down and make love to her again. “It can’t be after two already,” she mumbled. “I swear, I just laid down maybe ten minutes ago.”
“I don’t expect you to drive now, Legs. Just get dressed and close up your bags. I’ll borrow one of Mor’s blankets and you can sleep in the car.”
“You didn’t get any more sleep than I did, Jon. And look at you. You’re already up and dressed.”
“I’m all right for a couple of hours. Then I’ll let you take over. By then you’ll be rested. I’m gonna put my bag in the car and start it up while you get dressed, then wake up Mor. She made me promise not to leave without saying goodbye. And, Legs…”
“Hmm?”
“Merry Christmas.” He kissed her mouth.
Miranda laughed and returned the greeting, then dragged herself out of bed. The scent of the sex of just a few hours before still hung heavily in the air, and after she dressed she stripped the beds in both rooms, tossed her satin pillowcase in her suitcase, then stuffed the other linens in the washing machine. She didn’t start the cycle, since Nina might not get to put them in the dryer until tomorrow. But at least with the sheets already in the washer, Nina would have no reason to have contact with them until after they had been washed. Of course, she’d never even used the linens from the room assigned to her, but she didn’t want Nina to know that…
Miranda opened her eyes. It was still dark outside, with very little traffic. A glance at the dashboard clock revealed that it was just four a.m. She’d been sleeping for only about ninety minutes.
She reached to the side of her passenger seat for the control that returned it to an upright position. “You all right?” she asked Jon.
“Yeah, but I’m better now that you’re awake. I was getting lonely.”
“Maybe that’s why I woke up. I felt I should be up talking to you instead of sleeping.”
“Was there anything in particular you wanted to talk about, or did you just want to keep me company?”
Miranda thought for a moment, then decided to ask the question that had been at the forefront of her mind even as she slept. “I’m curious about something. Does your mother know about us?” She recalled a catchy tune her father had on CD about a black man’s concerns about his white girlfriend called Does Your Mama Know About Me?
“Well, let’s see. I told her we took dance lessons together, and that we continue to bowl together. I told her you’re sweet and succulent—”
“Jon, you didn’t!”
He chuckled. “No, I didn’t. And I’m not the type to kiss and tell, so if you’re asking if she knows that we’ve slept together, she didn’t hear it from me.” He glanced at her across the console. “Why do you ask?”
“I was just curious. It’s not like her attitude changed toward me or anything.” Both Nina and Birgitta had embraced her affectionately when they said goodbye and invited her to come back and visit in the future. Not only did Miranda feel their kindness was genuine, she did not feel any resentment on the women’s part about her taking Jon away from them on Christmas Day.
“It wouldn’t. The black/white thing doesn’t mean anything to her, or to Mormor, either.” He paused. “I hope you haven’t changed your mind again and decided to make this another one-time thing.”
Miranda had to laugh at the irony of his wording. A one-time thing could only happen, well, one time. “No,” she replied. “I haven’t changed my mind.” Her desire for him couldn’t be denied, but she still didn’t like the idea of being his winter squeeze. While she relished the idea of spending cold winter nights in Jon’s arms, on the other hand, she hated having an expiration date, like a tube of refrigerated cookie mix.
“You do understand that there won’t be any sex at my parents’ house,” she said.
“I wouldn’t want to. I’d feel as though I were being disrespectful to ravage you under their roof.”
She looked at him, stunned. “But it’s all right for me to sleep with you under your mother’s roof?”
“That’s different, Legs. I’ve been sneaking girls down there since I was in high school. Whenever Sara spent the night with a friend, I’d slip whomever I was going with down there. When I left for college, my mother let on that she knew about it all along.”
She wrinkled her nose. Just what she needed, to hear that she was just one of many…
They arrived at the Rhett home just before eight-thirty, and the moment Miranda set foot inside and saw the freshly painted aqua paint on the living room walls and new drapes hanging, she knew her mother had seen her with Jon on the news, although she’d said nothing when Miranda told her about the trouble on the flight and that Jon was going to drive her to Racine. Both she and Miranda’s father were off this week, and she’d probably insisted on sprucing up the house a bit. That bothered Miranda, for she was almost certain that if Jon had been black the house would have been fine the way it was. Her mother’s tendency to put on the dog was one reason Miranda had tried to keep Jon’s ethnicity secret.
Since everyone knew beforehand about Jon’s ethnicity, they expressed no surprise when she presented him to them. Travis and his wife had already arrived for the traditional gift-opening and brunch, which would be followed by the entire family attending church services together.
Jon seemed perfectly at ease, shaking hands with everyone and wishing them Merry Christmas, then sitting down in the living room and recounting that harrowing three minutes on the plane that still had them shaken up.
They all gathered in the dining room for brunch, and Miranda was happy to see that her mother hadn’t done anything out of the ordinary with the m
enu. She wondered if she’d attempted to do so and been vetoed by her father. Every year on Christmas morning her father prepared his specialty, a mixture of scrambled eggs, smoked sausage, sautéed onion, green pepper, and mushrooms, topped with melted cheese. Her mother made her usual shredded hash brown potatoes and baking powder biscuits. The usual glass pitchers of orange and pineapple juice sat on opposite ends of the table.
As was their tradition, they all held hands as Carlton said the blessing, then took their seats and prepared to dig in.
“It looks wonderful, Mrs. Rhett,” Jon said politely.
“Thank you, Jon. I do hope you enjoy it. Nothing fancy, you understand, but it’s a Christmas tradition for us.”
“I’m sure I will.”
The tray made its way around the table.
“So you two bowl together, huh?” Carlton said as he helped himself to a biscuit from the wicker basket lined with a linen dish towel.
“Yes,” Miranda quickly replied before Jon could mention dancing. She’d forgotten to tell him that she didn’t want anyone to know about that; she feared being teased about such a decidedly un-cool hobby. She’d always kept her desire to dance to herself. “Every Thursday night.”
“Well, Jon, Geral and I can’t tell you how much we appreciate your coming to Miranda’s rescue after that terrible time you had thirty thousand feet up,” Carlton said. “It really must have been awful. They said on the news that a person who’d been using the washroom was slammed so hard he broke his back.”
Miranda shuddered, remembering Jon’s statement that one person had been seriously injured by the sudden turbulence.
“A terrible thing,” Carlton continued. “Anyway, Jon, we want you to know that we’re honored to have you spend Christmas with us.”
“Yes, we are,” Geraldine echoed. “But I’m worried about your getting back to Bismarck. Do you think you’ll be able to handle the flight from Minneapolis to Bismarck on the return trip?”
“Thank you, Mr. Rhett,” Jon said. “And Mrs. Rhett, I don’t know about Miranda, but I intend to get good and drunk before I get on that plane, even if it involves taking a taxi home from the airport.”
They all laughed, then turned their attentions toward their meal. As they were finishing, Geraldine pointed out that they didn’t have much time before church and suggested they open their gifts.
It pleased Miranda to see that her mother had picked up something for Jon, which turned out to be a black knit head-hugging cap and matching scarf. Both she and her mother were caught off guard when Jon handed Geraldine a tall, gaily wrapped box, saying, “This is just a little something for your hospitality, Mrs. Rhett.”
“Oh, you shouldn’t have,” Geraldine said, her delighted tone belying her claim.
Miranda and Travis exchanged knowing looks and rolled their eyes.
“Ooh, it’s so heavy,” Geraldine said, lifting the box up and down. “I just can’t imagine what it could be.”
“Only one way to find out,” Carlton pointed out.
Geraldine gingerly unwrapped the package, as if she planned to re-use the shiny red foil wrapping paper someday. “Oh, how lovely!” she exclaimed, holding up the cut crystal vase. “This will be wonderful for my gladiolas and lilies this summer. Thank you, Jon.”
“You’re welcome, Mrs. Rhett. I’m glad you like it.” Jon turned to Miranda and handed her a shirt-size box. “Legs, this is for you.”
Out of the corner of her eye Miranda saw her mother poke her father’s side in a less than subtle cue for him to look. She knew that if her mother learned she and Jon were anything more than bowling partners she’d be interrogated like a murder suspect.
She didn’t realize that a habit of Jon’s had opened the door for a question from Travis that left her scrambling for a suitable answer.
“Jon, why is it that you call Miranda ‘Legs?’” Travis asked. “She doesn’t bowl in shorts, does she?”
“He calls me that because I’m the tallest woman on our team,” Miranda replied. “He has no idea what my legs look like.” She sensed Jon looking at her strangely and didn’t dare meet his eyes.
Instead she walked to her carry-on bag and removed a box, the oblong shape of which made it a given that it held a tie. “I’ve got something for you, too,” she said as she handed it to him. He accepted it with an unreadable expression.
Miranda felt all eyes on her as she unwrapped the package. She lifted what looked like a red-orange Asian print blouse out of the box, but quickly realized it was a wrapper with a matching sash around the waist, but no buttons, which meant that it really wouldn’t cover very much of her chest unless it was tied just so. And its short length would barely cover her backside.
Maybe it wasn’t a sexy see-through nightie of the Frederick’s of Hollywood variety, but with its skimpy length and nothing to hold it closed in front, it was an intimate gift just the same…one that had pretty much invalidated her claim that Jon knew nothing about her legs. Not only had she been busted, but the gift was sure to make everyone start asking questions about the nature of her relationship with Jon. How could she explain to them when she wasn’t sure she understood it herself? Of all things for Jon to get her…
“It’s very nice, she said, quickly returning it to the box.
“I’ll say,” Travis said. He and his wife exchanged amused glances.
Her parents did the same, and then her mother jumped into the awkward moment, delicately clearing her throat and suggesting they prepare to go to church.
Miranda glimpsed over at Jon as the choir led the congregation in a rousing rendition of Handel’s Messiah. This was very different from the reserved worship at his family’s church last night, but he seemed to be enjoying it. He was rocking his body in time to the music, and his lips formed the lyrics of the chorus, even though she heard nothing coming out.
Perhaps sensing her stare, he turned his head toward her and leaned in subtly. “This is nice. Very lively. I just want to know one thing.”
“Yes?”
“How could Bill Clinton possibly have fallen asleep during a service like this?”
She stifled her laughter, remembering the photograph of the former president nodding off in his seat behind the podium, where he sat with other dignitaries who spoke during the service. “That was actually a funeral, so it wasn’t a joyous occasion. I think someone was giving a speech, and it probably ran too long. I believe part of it had to do with his accustomed to being in the spotlight, but in his defense, I will say that people do fall asleep in church all the time.” She pointed with her chin to an elderly woman in the pew in front of them, whose head had dropped onto her chest.
Although there was no shortage of churches in Racine, Miranda and her family attended a Baptist church in Milwaukee, not exactly a mega-church, but fairly large, with a congregation of about two thousand. She noted that while she had been the only black person at the Lindbergh family’s church, there were a number of whites present at this service.
In the large crowd she spotted her good friend Aislinn Palmer, who had moved to Milwaukee to be closer to work and a social life that couldn’t be had in her hometown of Zion, right over the Illinois border. The two had met at the University of Wisconsin at Madison, when Miranda was a junior and Aislinn had just started her freshman year. Miranda had become Aislinn’s unofficial guide to the campus and the area, and their friendship continued after Miranda graduated at the end of Aislinn’s sophomore year, largely helped by the geographical proximity of Racine to Zion.
Aislinn openly looked from Miranda to Jon and back again, and to Miranda she mouthed the word, ‘Wow.’
At the end of the service Miranda and Jon trailed out of the church. Jon smiled and wished everyone he made eye contact with a Merry Christmas. Miranda noted that several women made small talk with him as the crowd moved slowly but steadily toward the exits, saying things like, “Are you a member of the church? I haven’t seen you here before,” in tones that were downright sultry. Jon r
eplied that he was visiting from North Dakota, which always met with looks of disappointment from the ladies that Miranda wished she could capture for posterity.
Jon took her arm. “About earlier…I’m afraid I didn’t use very good judgment with your gift. I probably should have given you the robe last night and saved the charm for today. I wasn’t thinking that we’d have an audience. I couldn’t help noticing that everybody seemed a little taken aback. I guess I let the cat out of the bag.”
“It’s all right, Jon.” She knew there was nothing to be done about it now. Her mother would likely pull her aside as soon as they got home. “It’s just my family. As long as no one from work knows…Hey, there’s Aislinn! Let’s go say hi.”
Miranda caught up with her friend and introduced her to Jon, who shook her hand warmly and fumbled on his pronunciation of her unusual name. “Az…?”
A Kiss of a Different Color Page 22