Footsteps

by Susan Fanetti

  “Okay…” His voice was calm, and she could tell he was trying to soothe her, to talk her down. Part of her wanted to be angry at that, too, but the rest of her wanted his calm. “When did you first feel so angry? What were you thinking—or feeling?”

  She took a breath and tried to focus her rampaging brain. “When…when I came. I thought that I’d never felt anything like that before, and then…then I had to get away. I wanted to scream and tear my hair.” Having assigned that moment to her current insanity, Sabina started to see the path that had led her to be standing here, wrapped in a comforter, Carlo on his way out, rather than where she wanted to be, which was in bed, surrounded by him.

  “I never felt anything like that. Mother Mary. Carlo, I have thirty-five years! I am a fool. A middle-aged child. Fifteen years I lost. Fifteen years he took and twisted and turned black. Sex was pain and humiliation. To be forced and bound and…and whipped and hurt and…” her words died on a sob, and she shut her mouth. Crying now would only make her angrier.

  Carlo crossed back to her in two long strides, and pulled her into his arms. But she didn’t want that—yes, she did, but it made her body jump and ache as if his touch were electric, and she could feel the last threads of control fraying. She struggled, but he held on, wrapped her up tightly, and tucked her under his chin, not letting her go.

  “You’re not a fool. You’re not a child. You’re not middle-aged. And he’s dead. Bina, you can have what you lost.”

  “No, I can’t!” Her hands, which had been holding the comforter around her, were caught between them, but she pushed and pushed, fighting his hold. Finally, he took her arms in his big hands and looked down at her.

  “Did you like what we did?” He smiled, a smile that went all the way to his eyes, that came from his heart, and in that gentle look, Sabina found some more focus. She took a deep breath.

  “Yes. Very much.”

  “We can do it again. We can do it until all you think about when you think about sex is you and me. And we can keep doing it until long after you don’t ever think about him at all.”

  “We can write over him. Like with my name.”

  He cocked his head at that, and she realized that she’d never told him that Auberon was the only other person who had ever called her Bina. Deciding she wanted to be finished talking or thinking about that man, she didn’t explain. She simply smiled, feeling his calm transferring to her. “I would like that—to make new memories. Memories that I want to remember.”

  She leaned forward and kissed his chest, the hair lightly tickling her nose. He was warm and smelled brilliant, like man and sex. She breathed deeply and kissed him again and again, sucking his nipples, nuzzling him, making him groan and pant. She let go of the comforter so that she could touch him with her hands, too.

  He caught it and wrapped it around them both, bringing her naked body firmly against his denim-clad one. He was hard again. “Are you ready to make another good memory?”

  “Oh, yes. Yes, please. I’m sorry for the crazy.”

  His eyes crinkling, he bent down and kissed her. “I’m thinking of it like this—I made you come so hard you lost your mind.”

  She laughed—and the last dregs of the darkness that had filled her head washed away. “It’s true. You did.”

  ~oOo~

  The world outside was quiet and bright when Sabina woke in the morning. Her head was quiet and bright, too. Her first waking thought was that she felt safe and snug, with Carlo’s arm around her and her head on his chest.

  Her second thought was that she was a little sore, but in a good way, nothing like her life before. Her body felt worked out, and the slightly puffy feeling between her legs brought good memories, memories that made her squirm and stretch.

  Last night had been a series of revelations. After that one breakdown, she had found some balance and was able to stay simply in the moment with Carlo, to feel him, to see him, and to think of nothing else but him and what they were doing together. And he had helped her make many new memories.

  To have a lover who sought her pleasure first—to have a lover at all, who sought her pleasure at all—it still grated on her heart that she had gone so long without even knowing this feeling was possible, but she had it now. She had it, and she would not let it go.

  Carlo took a deep breath, and his arm tightened around her. “Hey—good morning.”

  She turned her face up and found him smiling at her. “Good morning. Are you rested?” She scratched her fingers through the beard on his cheeks. She loved his beard, the way it looked, the way it felt on her fingers, her lips, her breasts…everywhere.

  He turned his head and kissed her palm. “Yeah. I feel good. You?”

  “Excellent. Will you spend the day with me?”

  Shifting to sit up a little, he sighed. “I’d love that. But I have to get back to Trey.”

  “Oh. Yes, of course.” Disappointed, she dropped her head.

  With a finger under her chin, he brought her back up. “Bina. Is this the start of something? Are we together now? Are you ready for that? Is it what you want?”

  So many questions all at once, but they all had the same answer. “Yes. To all of it, yes. Carlo, I love you, too. I’m ready, I think.”

  “You think?”

  “I know. I’m strong enough. I know myself better. Not all the way, maybe not halfway even, but enough to know that this is what I want. Enough to be part of something with you.”

  For a few seconds, he simply stared into her eyes, and she could sense him searching for something. She let him look. Then he bent his head and kissed her. “Then come with me. We can go out on the boat. Trey’s still on the hunt for sharks. Then maybe we can see if we can get everybody together for dinner.”

  “I love that. A perfect day. I need to shower first.” She tossed the covers back and sat up, then looked over her shoulder at him. “Join me?”

  He grinned. “Definitely. Let me call and check on Trey’s night, and then I’ll be in.”

  Feeling light and happy in a way that was unfamiliar but welcome, Sabina padded naked to the bathroom. She started the water in the tub and turned on the showerhead. As it was heating up, she took care of some other bathroom business, including brushing her teeth—and her hair, though she laughed at her silliness as soon as she was finished.

  When the water was steaming, she stepped in and stood under the spray, letting it wet her completely. While her eyes were closed, the spray running over her face, Carlo pulled the shower curtain back and came in with her.

  “Wow—hot!”

  She brought her head forward and blinked through the water in her eyes. “Are you so sensitive?” she teased. “Should I make it more cool for your delicate skin?”

  His hands on her hips, and pulled her to him, turning her as he did, so that her back was to him. “You are a smartass.”

  She laughed, but she had lost interest in banter. He was hard; she could feel him against her back, and she suddenly felt dizzy with need. His hands slid wetly over her skin, and she shimmied her hips back and forth, until he groaned and caught her hips in his hands again, stopping her motion.

  “Baby, this is gonna be a long shower if you don’t settle down.”

  She tipped her head back, leaning on his chest, and looked up at him. “Would that be wrong?”

  He kissed her nose. “I can’t think of a reason why. My mind’s a blank.”

  Feeling a bit playful yet, she reached behind her and took him in her hand. Blushing at the thought of what she was about to say and hoping that the flush from the hot water would camouflage her naïve shyness, she said, “I like your cock. It’s long and thick. It feels good in my hand.”

  “Cock?”

  More embarrassed now, she let him go and looked over her shoulder. “Is that a wrong word? No, I know that word. Is it one you don’t like?”

  “No—it’s a great word. I’m just surprised to hear you say it.”

  Relieved, she smiled. “I like
it. It feels good in my mouth”—she blushed again—“the word, I mean.” Then, deciding to be brave and follow through on the playful sexiness she felt between them, she added, “But you will feel good in my mouth, too, I know.”

  “Jesus,” he muttered. “You make me crazy.”

  The thought occurred to her that she could—that maybe, with all that talk, she should—take him into her mouth now. But the thought of going to her knees brought up memories she was trying to erase, and, yes, maybe doing that for Carlo would be a way to overwrite them. But they were too vivid yet, and she could feel his presence too near. What she and Carlo had shared last night had no direct analogue to anything she had done before. Going to her knees before him, though—that was something with which she had experience. So she wasn’t ready for that.

  If she’d been worried that Carlo would be impatient with her for teasing him with the prospect of a blowjob, she need not have been. After a few seconds in which she felt awkward while she battled her head and he simply caressed her wet body, he reached around her and pulled the bar of soap from the dish built into the wall. He lathered his hands and set the bar back, then pulled her flat against his chest and soaped her up—shoulders, arms, belly—making slow, thrilling circles on her overheated skin.

  Her head fell back to his chest with a light thud, and she whimpered.

  “Does it feel good, baby?”

  She liked to hear him call her ‘baby.’ She felt like his—not like a possession, a thing, but like she was precious to him. She nodded.

  “Can you tell me?” His hands moved up from her twitching belly, still making lazy circles, and then covered her breasts.

  She gasped, and then, when his fingers swirled over her nipples, plucking gently, she cried, “Oh, yes! It feels good!”

  Still teasing her nipples, he bent down and kissed her shoulder, and then she felt his tongue sliding from the ball of her shoulder to her neck and then up. He nipped lightly at her ear. “I want to be inside you.”

  She whimpered, and he thrust his hips, driving his rock-solid cock harder against her back.

  “I want to take you like this, from behind. With my hands on you like this.” He plucked a little more than gently this time, and Sabina wondered if it was possible to come from that touch alone. Her ache now was so deep that she realized that she was reflexively clenching and unclenching the muscles between her thighs. She resisted the urge to touch herself and then wondered why she was.

  She put her hand between her legs and at first just pressed it against her clit. She moaned at her own contact and rolled forward a little; he brought her back flush with his chest. “God, that’s beautiful. Can I be inside you like this?”

  She loved that he asked. When she nodded, his hands left her breasts and went to her waist. He turned them both and lifted her, setting her up on the ledge of the tub, facing the tile wall. The ledge was fairly deep, though, so she wasn’t flat against the wall. She was confused, but then he nudged her legs apart, and she felt him pushing at her core, and she understood. He’d made her taller—the perfect height to slide into her and go deep. At the brilliant sensation of his cock filling her completely, she fell back against him with a sound that was almost a scream. A scream of consuming pleasure.

  His hands came back to her breasts, and his mouth was at her ear again. “You can touch yourself, Bina. I like it.”

  It took a moment for her to understand why she would—he was filling her, thrusting so deep, exciting her breasts, growling in her ear, and it was all wonderful. She didn’t understand how she could improve upon this perfection. And then she began to get close to that breathtaking peak that he’d found for her over and over again last night, and she felt an ache. And she understood. She could have every touch at once.

  She rubbed her clit in small circles, as she’d learned she liked best, and right away, the pleasure that was so fierce it nearly hurt was on her, and she heard herself grunting with every thrust of Carlo’s hips. She came hard, her pulse sounding like a jet engine in her ears, her vision sparkling around the edges, and her body spasming so strongly that Carlo nearly lost his balance. He took half the shower curtain down trying to steady them both.

  Laughing through his own strained grunts, he set her feet on the floor of the tub and bent her at the waist, taking her hips in his hands and pounding into her while the shower, its spray cooling, cascaded over them both. As his thrusts became erratic and wild, Bina came again, crying out, “Oh God, Oh God!” again and again to the rhythm of his hips. He came right after her this time, making a sound like anguish.

  When it was over, Carlo pulled out of her and swept her into his arms, his breathing as loud and labored as hers, and lifted her out of the tub. He set her down, wrapped her up in a towel, and then folded her into an encompassing embrace. With the curtain destroyed, the shower sprayed into the room, but neither of them cared enough to worry.

  He kissed her temple, brushing her wet hair back. “Was that too much?”

  “No. That was heaven.”

  ~oOo~

  “Ms. Bina, you watch that way and I’ll watch this way.”

  “Okay, Mr. Trey. What should I watch for? I can’t remember.” Sabina met Carlo’s eyes over Trey’s head and grinned. She let her eyes linger a little, enjoying the way his muscles flexed as he worked the sails and navigated the boat. Now she had a trove of memories of how that beautiful body felt, how it tasted. Her eyes fluttered closed for just a second, and she was glad of the big sunglasses she was wearing.

  “Ms. Bina, I told you already! Try to listen better.” Trey put his hands on his hips and sighed, his bright yellow life vest lifting and settling with his dramatic inhale and exhale.

  “I know, I’m sorry. I’ll be better.”

  “It’s okay. Look for a big triangle in the water.” He lifted his arms and made a triangle over his head. “Sharks come in all sizes but we want to see a BIG shark.”

  Sabina wasn’t so sure she agreed, but Carlo had promised her that in all his life on the coast, he’d only seen a few sharks, and none of them had been the kind horror movies were made about.

  “Daddy took me to the Ex-por-lation Center and they had sharks but they were just little.” He gestured to demonstrate how little by pinching his thumb and forefinger almost together.

  “They were bigger than that, pal. One was about three feet long.”

  Trey turned on his father. “But they weren’t like on Shark Week.” Looking out over the water, he finished his story. “Uncle Joey showed me Shark Week and there are sharks big like Pop-Pop’s truck! And even bigger! I want to see one like that. With BIG TEETH LIKE KNIVES.”

  Luca was sailing with them, though Sabina wasn’t entirely sure why. She didn’t mind at all—she had a filial love for Luca that had grown quite deep. He was rough around the edges and prone to saying whatever was on his mind, but he was conscientious and devoted to his family, too. He was a groaning mess today, and Sabina couldn’t fathom why he’d accepted Carlo’s invitation. When she’d teased him and asked, he’d muttered, not very convincingly, that he never passed up a chance to get on the water. But he was obviously hung over from the night before, and he’d been lying supine on the deck at everybody’s feet, a can of beer perched on his bare chest, growing warm.

  Now, Luca lifted his head, turning his Oakley-shielded eyes toward his nephew. “Careful what you wish for, champ. Maybe one of those big sharks will take a bite. Chomp chomp!” He reached out with one hand, grabbing at Trey’s ankles.

  Trey giggled and jigged out of his reach. Carlo kicked a foot out and connected hard with Luca’s thigh, making him grunt. “Careful, man. He goes overboard, so do you.”