Holding Out For A Hero

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  When he finished the job she was gazing at him. “I don’t want you to worry about me,” she said. “I know men can’t always control when they…I mean, they’re so much faster, and I…I’ll…be fine, Tanner. Truly.”

  He gave her a lopsided smile. “Yes, ma’am, you’ll be mighty fine.”

  “I—”

  “Hush.” Then he guaranteed that she’d drop the subject by leaning over her and kissing her until her breath grew fast and shallow. That quickened breath made kissing her breasts all the more exciting as she quivered beneath him. He took his time. She needed to be at the brink, perhaps beyond. It might require mere days to undo the damage her selfish exhusband had done; it might take years. He hoped with all his heart he’d be hired for the job.

  He allowed instinct to guide him. He kept his mouth at her breast as he caressed her flat belly and slid his hand down, combing his fingers through her silken curls. His first touch was light, questing. She tensed, as if expecting rougher treatment to follow. He silently cursed his predecessor one more time and teased her gently once again, and again, until she began to relax.

  Her ascent was gradual but steady as he coaxed her along and slowly increased the pressure of his stroking fingers. He wanted to shout with joy when she began to lead, opening her thighs and lifting her hips for his caress. Her panting became inarticulate cries of passion. Close now. He lifted his mouth from her breast and shifted his position while he maintained a constant rhythm, bringing her closer still.

  He continued stroking her as he moved between her thighs. He was nearly bursting himself, but he had to hold back, no matter how much he wanted to lose himself in her. Gradually, he replaced the touch of his hand with the slow slide of his penis. She gasped and brought her hips up to meet him.

  He looked deep into her eyes as he pushed forward, withdrew and pushed forward again.

  Her eyes widened and she clutched his shoulders. “Tanner,” she whispered.

  “Let go.” He felt her first tremor and increased the rhythm. “That’s it.”

  “I…oh!” Her lips parted as she drank in air, and then her world exploded.

  The violent contractions destroyed his resolution to let her enjoy herself without his pleasure interfering. The torrent rushed from him with such force he cried out, submerged in an intensity that left him breathless and disoriented. Gradually, through the whirling in his head, came the sound of her voice murmuring. He listened, and realized she was reciting his name, over and over. He’d never heard it said quite that way, with a combination of awe and possessive delight. At that moment he knew he would give everything he owned to hear her say his name like that for the rest of his life.

  DORI INSISTED ON EATING the cold eggs and toast, although she allowed Tanner to make a fresh cup of coffee. “Wasting food is another bad habit,” she chided him, although her heart wasn’t in it. They sat at her oak kitchen table, she in her housecoat and Tanner in his jeans. It had happened, the thing she’d most feared. She was too entranced with Tanner’s lovemaking to give a fig about whether he was financially responsible or not.

  She reached out her foot and caressed his bare toes under the table. “Well, you may be a little loose with money,” she said, “but at least you’re not rich.” She was surprised at his reaction, almost as if she’d slapped him. “What did I say?”

  He took a sip of his coffee before glancing up at her again. “I’ve just never had a woman mention it was great that I didn’t have any money. I thought women always preferred a guy with a good income.”

  “A good income is okay. A good income would be very nice, as a matter of fact. I was talking about filthy rich, like the Devaneys. And in their case, filthy is the right word.”

  “I’m no lover of the Devaneys, especially the sleazeball Devaney you were married to, but I don’t think their behavior has anything to do with money. I think they’d be rotten rich or poor.”

  “Maybe.” Dori got up to get the coffee carafe and refill their cups.

  “I could have done that,” he said with a gentle smile.

  “Habit,” she said, topping off his cup. “You can take the waitress out of the café but you can’t take the café out of the waitress.”

  Tanner leaned back in his chair to study her. “Are you happy with your job?”

  “Everything except the pay,” she said with a chuckle. Then she replaced the carafe and shut off the heat, buying herself some thinking time before she returned to the table. His question set off a warning in her brain. “To be honest, I don’t mind waitressing. It’s good, honest work, and I’m performing a service those truckers desperately need.”

  “Feeding them and pouring coffee?”

  Her uneasiness grew. “That, of course, but mostly the conversation.” She sat at the table and curved her hand around her coffee mug. “People that move around as much as truck drivers need some things to be predictable. They seem to appreciate coming into the Double Nickel and knowing they’ll be able to talk to me, same as they did last time they stopped in. It makes them feel more secure, somehow.”

  Tanner nodded. “That makes sense.”

  She decided to turn the question back on him. “How about you? Would you rather be doing something else besides construction?”

  “Not really. I love watching a house take shape, knowing that people will have a solid, beautiful place to come home to, a refuge from the rat race.”

  Dori laughed. “Then you must have some trouble when you’re working on an office building.”

  “Actually, I don’t work on them anymore. Just houses.”

  “Because you like them better?”

  “Yep.”

  She took a sip of her coffee. So, he was picky about the jobs he accepted. Not a good sign. “In this economy I wouldn’t think you could afford to be that choosy.”

  “Dori, I’m better off financially than you think. In fact, I—”

  “Wait.” She held up one hand. “I’ve been afraid where this discussion was leading to the moment you asked if I was happy with my job. We’ve had a lovely morning, Tanner. Please don’t spoil it by telling me that you wouldn’t want me to work if we get married. Because I always plan to work. Partly because I like it, and partly to maintain a balance of power.”

  He sat forward, a look of astonishment on his face. “Excuse me?”

  “Money is power. I learned that the hard way with Jimmy Jr. Keeping my job seemed silly after we got married. And even if I had, my piddly little income wouldn’t have been enough to balance against all the money Jimmy had.”

  Tanner leaned toward her. “But if two people love each other, then who has the money shouldn’t matter.”

  “Ha. That’s what I thought at eighteen. At twenty-seven I know better. It’s the Golden Rule. The one who has the gold makes the rules.” She waved a hand out the window. “Look around you. It works in business, and it works in marriage, too. I would never marry a rich man again, or quit work and depend entirely on my husband’s income. It’s not worth a hundred trips to Hawaii to have someone lord it over me financially.”

  “But—”

  “That’s it, Tanner. I want economic equality in my next marriage. End of discussion.”

  Tanner gazed at her, a thoughtful expression on his face. “I see.”

  “You were going to ask me about giving up my job, weren’t you?”

  His tone was guarded. “Not exactly. But I’m glad you told me how you feel. I’m not sure I agree with you about the money-and-power thing, but it’s good to know up front what you’re thinking is on the subject.”

  Dori didn’t care for his answer. Although he didn’t come right out and say so, he could very well have some ideas about women that clashed with hers. “Tanner, are you one of those men who deep down believes a woman’s place is in the home?”

  “I—no. No, I don’t. My sister is studying law, after all.”

  “But your mother didn’t work outside the home, did she?”

  He hesitated. “No.
”

  “Who makes the financial decisions in that marriage?”

  He looked uncomfortable. “My father.”

  “You see, this is why I didn’t want to make love too soon. We should have had this discussion before we—”

  “No, you don’t.” He was out of his chair and pulling her from hers before she knew what was happening. “Don’t be putting guilt on either of us for this morning. You didn’t want me to spoil it by asking you to be a stay-at-home wife.” He wrapped his arms around her and brought her in close. “Don’t you spoil it by saying it was a mistake we’ll both regret.”

  “But my goal was not to let sexual attraction muddle my thinking.” She felt his arousal through the terry cloth of her housecoat, and immediately she responded with a rush of moisture.

  He rubbed his hands over her bottom in a sensuous kneading motion. “And is that happening?”

  “Yes, that’s happening, and I don’t think—”

  “Then I must be doing something right.” Capturing her mouth, he slid both hands inside her housecoat.

  She was helpless once he did that. The memory of the pleasure he’d given her earlier fueled what was already strong chemistry. Yesterday she’d wanted him without knowing what making love to him could mean. Now she knew, and the thought of repeating the experience drove her crazy with anticipation.

  When he backed her down the hall to her bedroom, his hands and mouth already preparing her for what was to come, she didn’t protest. By the time they got through the door she had opened the front of his jeans to run her hands over the instrument of her satisfaction. In seconds they’d shed their clothes and he’d rolled a condom over his erection.

  But when he lay on his back and started to guide her on top of him, she felt a wave of disappointment.

  He caught her face in her hands. “What is it?”

  “Nothing.” She leaned down and kissed him. “Nothing at all.”

  He held her slightly away from him. “Dori, I saw that look in your eyes, as if somebody had snatched away your favorite Christmas present and thrown it into the fireplace.”

  Heat seared her face. “Last time was so…lovely. But if we make love this way, I…” She didn’t have the courage to go on.

  “Yes, you will,” he promised, looking into her eyes. “I haven’t let you down yet.”

  “No, you sure haven’t, Tanner.”

  He bracketed her hips with his hands. “Come here, sexy lady.”

  She straddled his hips, and he guided her slowly, sensuously down over his waiting shaft.

  He sucked in a breath. “You are so fine, Dori.” He cradled her breasts. “Lean down and let me taste you.”

  She braced her hands on either side of his head and lowered her breasts to his mouth. As he suckled, the tightening began again deep within her, the tightening that had led to such wonder not long ago. Almost instinctively she initiated a gentle rhythm that allowed his mouth to continue to tantalize her nipple. She began to throb with a remembered pulse. Ahh.

  The tension built, and he let her guide their progress. She moaned softly, reaching for that tumbling free-fall that was like no other feeling on earth. As if sensing her eagerness, he slipped his hand up her thigh and pressed his thumb deep to the wellspring of her response. Her own movement provided the delicious friction that drove her closer to the precipice. The speed was in her control, and it was a dizzying experience.

  Instead of racing headlong to her satisfaction, she felt it coming and held back. She savored it, then moved closer, and again retreated to prolong the inevitable. Tanner never coaxed, never projected his own needs. When she’d toyed with ecstasy beyond endurance, she gave herself the final reward, shuddering with a cataclysmic, joyful feeling of release.

  Only then did his mouth leave her breast as he grasped her hips and urged her to a new motion. “Now, Dori,” he murmured. “Now, sweetheart. Ahh, yes. Ahh, so good. There. Like that.” His moan of surrender as he surged upward, lost in the moment, filled her with joy.

  She rested her head in the curve of his shoulder while her breathing gradually slowed. She’d never known anything like the excitement they could generate together. It left her dazed with its potency and greedy for more. Their personal philosophies might be different, she thought as they lay sated and slicked with moisture, but only a foolish woman would turn away from a man who could love like this.

  DORI SUGGESTED that Tanner check out of the Prairie Schooner and move his things to her house. He was willing to keep the room if she was worried about appearances, but she seemed more interested in the time they could spend in each other’s company than appearances. That was a gigantic step in a community as tight as Los Lobos, and Tanner didn’t minimize the extent of her commitment when she suggested the move.

  She’d become furious when she looked out the front door for the first time and noticed the spray-painted truck. Tanner had shrugged it off to keep her from flying off the handle and doing something that could jeopardize her or her son. Once she was safely on her way to work, Tanner fired up the truck’s engine and headed toward Devaney Trucking.

  The outer office of the low building housing the trucking company was neat but unimposing. Imitation pine-paneled wallboard, gray indoor-outdoor carpeting and steel office furniture indicated an interest in utility rather than decor. A young blonde who looked like a recent prom queen sat at the desk that had the “receptionist” nameplate positioned at its front edge.

  She blinked in apparent concern when Tanner walked in. “Goodness, have you been in an accident?” she asked, obviously forgetting the standard “Can I help you” drill.

  “You might say that.” He glanced down a hallway that began about five feet behind her desk. That was his destination. “I’d like to see Jimmy Devaney, Jr.”

  “If it’s about a job, you’ll have to fill out an application first.” She rose and turned toward the bank of file cabinets, revealing a very short skirt and spectacular legs.

  “I don’t want a job.”

  “Oh.” She turned back to him. “Do you have an appointment?”

  “No. Is he here?”

  Her sympathy for his battered face was replaced with a professional mask. “I’m afraid I’ll need more information. May I have your name and the purpose of your visit?”

  Tanner figured if he gave his name and she buzzed the Devaney heir with the information, the cowardly son of a bitch would take a back way out of the building and Tanner would be left standing in the outer office like a jilted bridegroom. The image didn’t please him.

  “It’s a surprise,” he said with the most engaging grin he could manage considering his split lip and black eye. “I’ll just go and find that ol’ boy.”

  The blonde moved as if to stop him. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Mr.—”

  “Trust me.” He strode past her with the bluffing technique that had seen him through several financial crises on his way to the top. “It’s a fine idea.”

  She trailed behind him as he walked down the hall. He expected that Jimmy Jr. would have the first office and his father the one in the back, with more potential for space and prestige. He was right. The door immediately on his left had Jimmy’s name stenciled on it. Tanner seized the knob, turned it and walked in. He shut the door in the receptionist’s face and twisted the lock.

  “What the hell?” Devaney looked up from the magazine he was reading. It looked like an issue of Playboy.

  Tanner moved while the element of surprise was still in his favor. He rounded the desk and pulled Devaney up by his shirtfront. The man looked scared spitless, which was exactly how Tanner wanted him.

  “Didn’t expect to see me again, did you?” he rasped as Devaney gulped like a beached trout. “Get this straight, punk. You make a move against me again and I’ll wait for you. You’ll never know when it’ll come, but it’ll come, and I won’t need three other guys to put you away.” He shoved Devaney back in the chair.

  As he walked toward the door, De
vaney found his voice. “You can’t talk to me like that!”

  Tanner flipped open the lock on the door and turned back to Dori’s exhusband. “I just did.” Then he left the office and smiled at the pretty receptionist on the way out.

  11

  TANNER DROVE from Devaney Trucking to the Prairie Schooner Motel to pick up his clothes and settle his bill.

  “No charge,” Elmer said when Tanner walked into the motel office and dug out his wallet.

  Tanner stopped in mid-motion and looked at the grayhaired man in surprise. “I can pay,” he said. “I know the truck looks old, but I—”

  “Doesn’t matter if you’re King Midas hisself.” Elmer peered at Tanner through thick bifocals. “Beatrice would have my hide if I was to charge you anything, considerin’ all you’ve been through since you hit town.”

  Tanner nodded. “It’s been interesting, all right.” He paused. “You know you’ve got a security leak at the motel. That stink bomb was meant for me.”

  “I know it. We can’t pay the maids much, y’know, and I’m pretty sure which one of them took the money to tell what room you was in. I’m watchin’ her real close.”

  “Did that couple from New Mexico ever get the smell out of their clothes?”

  “Yeah, with some help from Beatrice. Refunded their room rent, o’ course. Lucky for us they didn’t decide to sue.”

  “It hasn’t been a very profitable few days, has it?”

  Elmer shrugged. “You know how it is. We all manage to get by somehow.”

  “Well, thank you for the nice gesture.” Tanner reached across the counter and offered his hand to Elmer. “I’m sure Dori appreciates it, too.” Tanner knew better than to insist on paying, but he felt guilty all the same. He could afford the rent a lot more than Elmer and Beatrice could afford to lose it.