Such a Pretty Face

by Gabrielle Goldsby

  Her eyes were gentle and warm. She looked relaxed, unstressed.

  No frown creased her brow. I reached up to touch her face; the small line of her scar felt soft beneath my Þ ngertips. I wanted to learn every part of this woman’s body.

  She leaned in for a kiss. My panties were already soaked, but when she pulled away and kissed me again, her tongue toying with mine as she tasted herself, it caused my hips to jerk. Her hand went to my panties and she eased them down. I lifted my hips to help her. One-handed, she reached between my legs, her Þ ngers grazing my crotch, and she pulled from the middle. I jumped.

  “Please, Ryan,” burst from my lips. “Please.”

  “What?” she asked only raising her mouth from mine enough to allow herself to speak.

  “Don’t tease me,” I said. “Not this time.”

  She sat up enough to help me take off my panties. “You have no idea how beautiful you are, do you?”

  Mirrors to the soul. Isn’t that the saying? Ryan’s eyes looked both earnest and aroused, and within their depths, I saw something that made my heart beat even harder. “I know now,” I said. When she Þ nally rested her body on top of mine, my hips surged instantly to meet her. With three thrusts of my hips I was well on my way to an orgasm.

  “I want to feel you,” Ryan said and I cried out when she moved to the side. She was breathing as hard as I was.

  I reached for her shoulder just as her Þ ngers gently parted the lips of my vagina and her Þ ngertips touched me for the Þ rst time. “Oh,”

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  GABRIELLE GOLDSBY

  I breathed and closed my eyes to escape the heat of hers. Her Þ ngers were so gentle it was excruciating.

  “Do you know how long I’ve wanted to see you like this? Aroused while I touched you? From the very Þ rst moment I saw you I knew we would be together like this. I knew even when I was Þ ghting it.

  I knew the moment I agreed to move in here with you.” Her voice had deepened and I could hear that she herself was getting aroused again. She captured my mouth with hers and I raised my head to try to continue the contact. “Do you like this?”

  Her Þ ngers dipped into me and I tensed, but then raised my hips to give her better access. “Yes,” I whispered.

  I expected her to sink into me then but she didn’t; she continued her strokes, occasionally dipping into me and bringing the wetness out to lubricate my clitoris. My hips rocked beneath her hand until Þ nally I was meeting her Þ nger each time she dipped into my opening, teasing me until Þ nally I forced her into me.

  A moan ripped from my throat as she anticipated the move and sank two Þ ngers deep inside me. I held on to her wrist even though I was trembling. She pulled almost completely out of me and the only protest I was able to form was to continue to hold her wrist. She didn’t pause; she sank deeply into me again and I fought the orgasm I felt mounting. I didn’t want it to end.

  She slowly pulled out of me and, for some reason, the only words I could voice were, “Don’t leave me.”

  When she answered, her voice was near my ear. “I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart. It’s okay.”

  I opened my eyes and instantly was engulfed by her blue ones. She sank deeply into me and I felt the orgasm as it passed the point of being put off again. One more thrust of her Þ ngers, this one not as gentle as the others, and my orgasm crested and was upon me. Almost as if she read my mind, she thrust hard into me. I could feel the muscles in her arms bulge as my lower body almost lifted from the bed. I cried out, begging her to keep going as I closed my eyes against the love in hers.

  Ryan’s Þ nal four thrusts lifted me off the bed and were so powerful that I was left speechless.

  She stopped the minute the last wave of my orgasm ended. “Mia, was it too hard, baby?”

  I opened my eyes. She was hovering over me. The worried look on her face was not what I expected to see after lovemaking.

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  “No, it was perfect.” I swept her hair back and held it between my Þ sts. My arm trembled as if I had just done ten sets with twenty-pound weights.

  “Are you sure? I didn’t mean for it to end up being like that.”

  “It was perfect. You stopped exactly at the right time.” I felt embarrassed. How could I tell her that I liked a little roughness when I was that aroused? How could I tell her that I liked how gentle she was before that?

  “Good. Because I liked it that way too.”

  The few moments of clarity had already faded, and again I was Þ nding it hard to concentrate.

  “Is it all right if I…?” With a mischievous smile she gestured downward.

  “You might have to give me an hour or so before I can have another one.”

  “I just want to taste you.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah.”

  “If you don’t mind that I’m—” My words were cut off because Ryan’s mouth was devouring me.

  I was wrong; it didn’t take me anywhere near as long as an hour.

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  • 218 •

  SUCH A PRETTY FACE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Half-dreams. I love waking to those. They’re probably not really dreams, more like waking thoughts or in my case, a memory.

  I was conscious enough to recognize the scent of our lovemaking in the covers. I relived each touch, each gasp. The way her mouth had felt so gentle that it had been torturous. The way she had refused to move any faster than her own slow, attentive pace.

  She was apologizing for the abandon that she had taken me with on our Þ rst time. I had grabbed her hand, but my throat seemed incapable of doing anything resembling dialogue. She had captured my clit between her teeth and was stroking it slowly with her tongue. Each languorous swipe of her tongue caused a pleasure so painful that by the time she took me fully, I was begging.

  I’m not sure what drove me to full wakefulness—my arousal, my hand reaching for Ryan, or the realization that she wasn’t lying next to me.

  “Ryan?” I called to her, but even as her name came from my taxed vocal cords, I knew she wasn’t in the room.

  I pushed the covers back and sat up. My muscles immediately reminded me of the requests I had eagerly complied with the night before. Can you open wider for me? May I touch you here? May I taste you there?

  Her voice had been so soft, her eyes gentle with a small touch of fear that I would refuse her. I didn’t, not once, and not once did she do anything that didn’t bring me to a full-ß edged orgasm. So why had she left me lying there alone? Was she regretting her decision to be with

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  me? Even now, with insecurity taunting my every move, I didn’t regret anything we did for one moment. I forced myself up and out of bed.

  My toes curled against the chill of the hardwood ß oors. I passed Ryan’s dresser and stopped to look at myself in the attached mirror, another antique formerly owned by my grandparents and grudgingly bequeathed to me by my mother. I Þ nger-combed my hair into a semblance of order. My lips had always been one of my best features, full and perfectly proportioned. They looked pouty now, as if they had been thoroughly kissed. And they had. God, could that woman kiss. I touched my neck and shoulder where she had nuzzled me when I had brieß y lain on top of her, our hips rocking against each other in our desperate race toward orgasm. How many times had I reached for her last night? I frowned. More times than was decent, I’m sure.

  My robe had been draped across a chair in the corner of Ryan’s room. I found my bra and panties folded neatly beneath it when I picked it up. I pictured Ryan quietly folding them as I slept in her bed. I left them sitting in the chair and pulled the robe around myself.

  When I stepped out into the darkened hall and passed my room, I immediately noticed Pepito curled in the center of my bed, and the fact that my bathroom door had been left open. I was certain I hadn’t left it that way; I always had the
niggling feeling that Pepito jumped onto the bathroom counter to lick my toothbrush when I wasn’t around. I walked downstairs and toward the kitchen, but my heart had sunk to my toes before I even breached the threshold. If Ryan were in the kitchen, Pepito would be there too; he would never miss an opportunity to net himself a dropped morsel or a handout.

  The last place I expected to Þ nd her was the basement. Most of my muscles already ached, but the light was on when I opened the door, and as much as I was sure that I hadn’t left it that way last night, I still found myself silently praying that I would Þ nd her there.

  She was sitting on the weight bench, her hands hanging loosely between her legs. She looked sad, defeated. My heart sank further.

  “Ryan?”

  “You’re awake,” she said and my tension receded as she stood up, walked toward me, and wrapped her arms around my waist. I was standing on the last step so I had to lean into her.

  “I thought you’d left the house,” I said against her neck.

  “No, I had a message from my mother so I came down to call her

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  back. I thought I would work out since I was already up. I didn’t want to wake you.”

  I glanced at the clock. 5:00 a.m. wasn’t exactly early for Ryan, but I knew for a fact that she had been busy torturing me not three hours before. “So how long have you been up?”

  “A little over an hour.”

  “Why didn’t you wake me?” Ryan dipped her head and said something under her breath. “What was that?” I lifted her chin and smiled at her. My earlier insecurities had faded into the back of my memory like my waking dream. This was real, Ryan was real and she was here and I could feel her breath quicken as I leaned into her body.

  “I got scared that watching you sleep wouldn’t be enough. I thought we might have overdone it last night.”

  “See, that’s where we’re different. I think we did it just right last night. But let me see if I understood you correctly. You can work me until I’m about to fall over down here, but in bed I get a reprieve? I think you’ve got your priorities out of whack, Ryan.” She laughed and any evidence of sadness disappeared.

  “Wait, did you just say you watched me sleep? I hope I didn’t drool.”

  “Yeah, you did. You snore too.”

  “Wow. Thanks, sweetheart. I had no idea how sexy I was.” I laughed, but I was more than a little embarrassed.

  Ryan’s face became serious. “I was kidding. You looked very sexy and so beautiful I had to make myself get out of bed so I wouldn’t wake you up to make love again.”

  We shared a kiss that sent a sharp shock to my crotch. I’m sure my toes would have curled if I wasn’t already using them to grip the edge of the step for balance. Ryan drew away Þ rst; apparently I have no willpower where chocolate and sex were concerned. Who knew?

  “Go get dressed and join me for a workout before we kill each other.” She was laughing, but her tone was serious, worried.

  “Something’s wrong, isn’t it?” I asked and mentally steeled myself against her answer.

  “Everything’s perfect,” she said and the look she gave me almost convinced me that it was.

  Almost.

  v

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  GABRIELLE GOLDSBY

  Perfect lasted three days. That’s how long it took me to Þ nd out what was troubling Ryan.

  “Hey, anyone here?” I could clearly hear the faucet running in the kitchen and the sound of Pepito’s nails on the ß oor. I secretly enjoyed the way Ryan and Pepito came to greet me when I came home in the evening. Idiotic, I know, but it made me feel loved and cherished. I sniffed the air appreciatively.

  “You don’t need to keep cooking for us,” I said when Ryan appeared in the kitchen doorway.

  “You keep saying that.”

  “Because you keep doing it.” I kissed her hard and wiped the lipstick from her bottom lip. I lifted a pot and leaned in for a sniff.

  “God, I’m starving. I seem to be eating more, not less, now that I’m working out.”

  “Here, let me take your bag.” She grasped the handle, but instead of releasing it I used it to bring her in for a kiss. Her lips were soft beneath mine; they trembled slightly before they opened.

  “You said you were hungry?” she said as she took the bag from my hand. That heavy, scared feeling I had experienced when I woke up alone three days ago returned full force. It was obvious she needed to tell me something but didn’t know where to start.

  “Ryan? I know you told me everything was Þ ne, and I don’t want to harp on it, but I feel like you have something on your mind.”

  Ryan hesitated, then said. “Yeah, I guess I do.” I hadn’t noticed her accent for some time. Either it had thickened or I was being overly sensitive.

  “Would you mind if we went out front? I…I have a phobia about important conversations in kitchens.” I didn’t wait for her answer. I just turned away and trusted that she would follow me.

  My heart thrummed with every step I took. Part of me wanted to rush into the family room and the other part of me wanted to drag my feet to hold off the inevitable. I sat down and patted the couch next to me. Ryan seemed reluctant to sit down. I took her hand to reassure us both. “Tell me. Please.”

  “I don’t know where to start.”

  “Start from the beginning. Is it bad news?”

  “No, at least I don’t think so. My mother seemed to think it was.”

  Ryan shrugged. “She called me the other day. You know, when you

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  found me in the basement. She had called to ask me to give Brady money to get back home. Can you believe that? I told her he stole from you and she still wants me to give him money.”

  “She’s his mother. She probably doesn’t want to believe he’s as bad as you’re saying.”

  “She’ll have to believe it now. I bought him a bus ticket back home. Hopefully he won’t sell it.”

  “I would think your mother would be happy about that?”

  “She is, but she expected me to come back with him. I told her I would be staying here.”

  I grinned at her. “I’m still waiting for the bad news, because so far you’re batting a thousand by my book.”

  Ryan didn’t return my smile and I placed my hand on her leg when I realized that she was still very distressed. “You know I Þ nished the work at Mrs. Margolis’s, right?”

  “Yes, I talked to her the other day. She’s still raving about the work you did.”

  Ryan smiled. “Apparently she’s been doing a lot of that. I got a phone call from Decker Kenly.”

  “Decker Kenly? His company makes my cousin Trino’s outÞ t look minuscule. Does he want you to work for him?”

  “No, for his mother.”

  “His mother?”

  “Yeah, she and Mrs. M are friends. Mrs. Kenly went out and bought a Þ xer-upper without talking to her son Þ rst. A real dive of a place, but it’s in a great area. East Fifty-sixth. Anyway, he needs someone to rehab it so he can ß ip it and get her some of the money back. It’s too small a job for any of his contractors and he doesn’t want to put much money into it. His mother saw the work I did at Mrs. M’s and they gave me a call the other day.”

  “Oh, Ryan, that’s fantastic!” I reached out to hug her. She hugged me back and I could feel her mouth stretch into a smile against my shoulder, but the tension was still there.

  “They’ve had problem with kids breaking in and vandalizing it.

  He wants someone to stay in the house.”

  I leaned back so I could see her face. “Is that normal? I mean, why can’t he hire a security guard?”

  Ryan shrugged. “Mrs. M told him that I was staying here with you, so he came up with the idea of offering me the job and no living

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  expenses for the time it’ll take me to rehab the
house. Probably two or three months.”

  “Two to three months?” I wanted to tell her she couldn’t do that.

  I wanted to tell her that what we had was too new, but how could I?

  Ryan and I had no commitment. Hell, by most people’s standards we had done things backward anyway. “When?”

  “As soon as possible. I thought maybe this weekend.”

  “You’re moving out this weekend?” I blinked, too stunned to even think about crying. This was all wrong. “But what about us?”

  Ryan looked sad. “I’d hoped you might still want to see me.”

  “Of course I do, but…” I couldn’t really say what I was thinking, could I? That I didn’t want to sleep without her. That a week wasn’t nearly long enough. “Do you really have to live in the house?”

  “If something happened and I didn’t, I would feel bad. Besides, this could be huge.”

  I did understand what she was saying; this could be the break she was looking for. Unfortunately, my heart only understood one kind of break. Stop it, Mia. She isn’t leaving you, she’s just…

  “I need to.” She seemed to struggle for her words. “Have you talked to Brenda?”

  “Brenda? Is that what this is about?”

  “No. I’ll admit that the thought of her is always there, but no. The reason I’m taking this job is because it pays well and it could give me a step in the right direction. Mia, how do you feel about me?” I was too shocked to answer right away, and she went on in a manner that told me she had thought carefully about this. “I know you care about me. I know you like being with me as much as I like being with you. I can see it in your face. I just need you to have true closure with Brenda before I feel comfortable moving to the next step.”

  “Why is everyone so damn sure there hasn’t been closure? She left me, remember?” As far as I was concerned, it was over when she walked out that door.

  “She’ll be back.”

  “Not for another three months.”

  “Okay, she comes back in three months and then what? I skulk out the back door as she comes through the front? I’m sorry, Mia, I can’t do that.”