by Wind, Ruth
“That must be comforting,” Tanya said over the ache in her chest. It amazed her how calm her voice sounded. “It’s nice that you kept it.”
“It’s all I have.”
She smiled, honestly this time. “It’s more than Zach has, isn’t it?”
Tonio’s expression lightened. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, it is.”
“Well,” she said, picking up her cup. “I’ll leave you to your letter.”
He nodded. “Thanks for listening, Ms. Bishop.”
“My pleasure.” Tanya walked coolly to the door, but just beyond, she bolted. No way this could go on much longer. No way. Every time he gave her a chance to confess and she didn’t, the lie got bigger. Every time she pretended not to be his mother, he would remember when the truth was revealed.
With a feeling very much like panic, Tanya went to Ramón’s room. She tapped at the door and waited, her arms crossed on her chest. Nothing. She tapped again, and called him softly, although he was alone on the second floor. “Ramón!”
A groggy voice answered her. “Come in.”
Within, the darkness was absolute. Tanya closed the door behind her and stumbled forward, propelled by her panic. “Ramón?” she whispered, and tripped over a pair of jeans.
“Straight ahead,” he mumbled, sleepily.
Tanya moved forward gingerly, hands outstretched. The room smelled of his skin, of him, rich and faintly spicy. The front of her thighs struck the bed and she bent over involuntarily, her hands going out to stop herself.
One palm landed on his stomach—bare and hot. The other landed on the pillow near his head. His thick coarse hair brushed her inner wrist. Hastily she straightened, rubbing her hand restlessly against her leg.
Now that she stood here, the intense reality of the moment came to her. She smelled his skin and heat, and the knowledge that his torso—at the very least—was bare, made her palms burn and her breasts ache, “This was a mistake,” she whispered. “I’ll leave you alone. I’m sorry. I don’t know what—”
A big hand snagged her wrist, and Tanya tumbled forward, landing on the bed next to him. “You don’t have to rush off.” His voice was rough with sleep. “I’ve only been in bed a half hour, so another few minutes isn’t going to make any difference.”
“No, I—this was—I’m sorry.” She tried to move away, embarrassment flooding her. What had she been thinking? She hadn’t been thinking. Only feeling. “I’ll leave you alone.”
“Come here and tell me what’s wrong.”
Waves of mortification washed through her. “No, really, Ramón—”
He tugged her again. “Lie down here with me, cricket. Let me hold you.” He pressed his mouth to her hand. “Just for a minute.”
Tanya resisted one more moment, but his scent permeated the room, filling her with a restless sense of need. Knowing even as she relented that it was a mistake, she gingerly eased her body down beside him.
“That’s it,” he said roughly, and tucked an arm around her. The heat of his length along her body gave her a wild jolt. “Tell me what’s bothering you, grillacita.”
She remembered what had driven her here. “I have to tell Tonio the truth.”
“Mmm.” Lazily, his hand moved on her body as he nestled closer to her, his chest against her arm, his face tucked against her neck. The broad hand made a wide circle over her stomach, up an arm, lightly clasped a breast, then moved quickly away before she could protest. Against her buttocks pressed his arousal, pointed and hot below the covers. She was almost sure he slept with no clothes—clothes would make that feel different. Her breath caught as his mouth landed against her shoulder.
“Pretty soon, we’ll tell him,” he said with a rasp, and his hand slipped inside her robe, over her thin nightgown, and stroked her breast again. Her nipples leapt to full attention. His skillful fingers circled back, touched the aroused points lazily, slowly. “Soon,” he said into her hair. His mouth touched her neck, hot and moist. Tanya shuddered, feeling arousal rush through her.
He planted a kiss on the vulnerable flesh below her ear, and his tongue teased the edge of her ear. She made a low noise and closed her eyes, trying to be still so she wouldn’t give herself away. He felt so good, he smelled so good….
The questing fingers freed two buttons on her gown and slid inside, and all at once, his naked fingers were touching her breast, skin to skin, and she gasped. He swirled and skimmed and cupped, teasing her nipple as his mouth moved on her neck, her ear, her jaw. Lower, his hips moved against her bottom, and she found herself responding with movements of her own. A warm, pleased sound came from his throat.
He spread kisses up the side of her neck. “Turn over, sweetness, let me kiss you properly.”
Tanya needed no second urging. She turned in his embrace and found him propped on one elbow, ready to bend and kiss her. Lightly, so lightly. With his free hand he unbelted her robe and flipped it open. She shivered.
His big hand stroked her breasts, then opened the rest of the buttons and spread open the gown. She felt the air against her breasts an instant before he moved his hand to clasp and caress her flesh. As his tongue opened her lips and plied her mouth, he moved his deft fingers to the points of her breasts and played there, teasing and stroking. He opened his mouth and invited her in, and Tanya entered the sacred cavern, and found herself arching against his plucking fingers, his thrusting tongue.
He made a low, dark noise. “We aren’t going to make love tonight,” he whispered, “because I’m not prepared, and neither are you, but there’s no reason we can’t do some heavy petting, is there?” In illustration, he roved over her breasts deliciously, heating her flesh with his touch. “Do you know a reason?”
She put her hands on his naked back, nearly breathless with the pleasure of it. “No reason I can think of.”
“Good,” he breathed. With exquisite slowness, he bent his head and put his mouth on her breast. He touched the tip lightly with his tongue. She gasped. Deliciously, he tortured her with more light flutters that sent shooting arrows of sensation through her body. Urgently, she put her hands in his thick, gloriously wavy hair, and reveled in the sensation against her fingers, silky and cool and heavy all at once. And his mouth, so hot and wet, suckled her, lightly, then more fiercely, as if he were starving. His hand moved on her body, skimming her waist and thighs, and she felt the brush of hair as he tugged her gown up and skimmed her thighs with an open palm. “Tanya,” he breathed, kissing her, “you’re so sweet. So sweet.”
And in her turn, Tanya tasted his neck, his throat, his slightly prickly chin. She slid her tongue over the long dark column of his throat into the hollow at the base, where she could feel the pulse of his life moving, beating. He was so hot—his skin was like the dark pelt of an animal that had been sleeping in the sun—and it warmed the cold, lost places inside of her.
Somehow, her robe and panties were shed, and Ramón’s hands grew urgent on her body, his kiss hot and intense. She skimmed the blanket from his body and found he was indeed bare beneath it, and she put her hands on his hips, glorying in the muscled feel against her palms.
Ramón touched her, from shoulder to knee, with his hands, and his mouth, and then he covered her with his body, the lower half still draped in a sheet, and she wanted to weep with the feeling of that sleek, naked chest moving lightly over her bared breasts. He kissed her deeply, hungrily, and she thought she would die of pleasure and need.
And then, oh, then, he slipped his hand between her legs and stroked her, only a little, ever so expertly, exactly as she would have asked him to, if she had dared. The deep heat that had been growing low in her abdomen over days of kisses and dreams simply exploded.
It was not like anything else.
She had never experienced the true pinnacle of sex, and the experience was unbelievable, inexpressible, outrageous. She heard a low, dark moan rise into the room, and realized it was coming from her own throat, as wave after wave rocked her. After long moments of blindin
g pleasure, the waves slowed and faded, but Ramón made a small, joyful sound and bent his head to her breast, where he teased and lapped and nibbled, and the rocketing waves returned.
Never, never, never had she understood, she thought, overcome. As the waves subsided, leaving a wide rippling heat in her body, she knew an empty aching—and that was a sensation she recognized. She needed Ramón inside of her. She urged him closer, and he kissed her, but didn’t take her invitation.
“No,” he whispered finally. “I’ll wait my turn. I have no condoms here. I have to buy them.”
Tanya, shaking, knew there were ways to give him what he’d just given her, but she was too weak, too deeply sated. He settled next to her, his hand over her breast. “Sleep, my sweet.”
And Tanya, exhausted by sexual satisfaction for the first time in her life, did just that.
* * *
Ramón awakened the next morning, his body tight and aching with desire. Against him, Tanya slept, just as he’d imagined so many times. Her hair, shiny and clean-smelling, tumbled over her cheek, and her pretty, soft mouth was almost unbearably lush in sleep. One white breast, unbelievably beautiful, was exposed.
Moving cautiously, he reached for the cover to pull it up over her, to cover her nudity. But she shifted in his arms, still soundly sleeping, and the movement put one pert, rosy nipple almost next to his mouth. He groaned and closed his eyes, willing his desire to some faraway place, but her skin was soft against him, and his breath caused her nipple to pearl, and he rationalized the heavens would not so irresistibly tempt him if he wasn’t meant to act.
With a sigh, he bent his head and accepted the sweet fruit into his mouth, savoring the taste for the delicacy it was. He suckled until he felt her stir, moaning softly. Her hands fell first in his hair, and her fingers roved over his scalp. She whispered his name in a voice soft with wonder and delight, and her hands moved on his body.
She touched him. Intimately, hotly, embracing his aching shaft firmly, moving in the ancient rhythm, and he forgot himself, forgot that he was a calm, grown man who could hold off until there was protection, who could resist anything.
He couldn’t resist Tanya. Couldn’t resist this.
She coaxed him to satisfaction, and didn’t flinch when he grasped her arms and kissed her deeply. And when the violent rocking had finished, he gathered her close. Touched her delicate ears, her beautiful breasts, the hungry tips, and the sleek flat of her stomach, moving lower. She stopped him, and whispered breathily, “Let’s wait until we can make love properly.” She opened her eyes. “I want all of you.”
Ramón kissed her. “Tanya, I missed you.” A thick pulse filled his groin, making him ready again. “I’ll never be able to keep my hands off you today.”
She smiled. “You’d better. There are a lot of boys down there looking up to you.”
“I promise I’ll illustrate the right way to touch a woman for them. Will that help?”
“No.” She slapped his arm. “I can’t believe I never before knew what was supposed to happen.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“You know.” Her voice dropped and a hot pink stain touched her cheekbones. “The whole enchilada.”
He thrust his hips at her playfully. “No, you haven’t had the whole enchilada, baby. Not yet.”
“Ramón!” She ducked her head into his shoulder and mumbled a word into his neck.
“Orgasm!” he said, pulling back to look at her face. “You’ve never had an orgasm before?”
She shook her head.
Ramón smiled, broadly. “Oh, cricket, are we going to have some fun.” He kissed her. “Tonight.”
A flush touched her face again, but it wasn’t embarrassment this time. Her eyes were awash with liquid heat. “Better find a way to hide that glow, or I’ll have to reassign you. Those randy boys will catch fire.”
“No,” she whispered, lifting her arms around his neck. “Just keep the fire low, and we’ll be fine.”
“My pleasure.” He kissed her, wondering how he’d fallen into such good fortune, so suddenly. “My pleasure.”
* * *
Tanya moved through breakfast preparations feeling as if the world were covered with a sheer coating of pearlescent light. Everything glowed. She glowed, and she knew it, and she tried to hide it.
But she was so aware of her body this morning it was nearly impossible. As she blended ingredients for bread, she felt the press of clothes against her breasts, as if the cotton were too heavy, and her arms felt tingly, as if they were waiting, and the dark pulse low in her abdomen jolted her every time she thought of the night, of Ramón touching her… kissing her… stroking her body to such heights!
She’d almost forgotten the middle-of-the-night conversation with Tonio until he came into the kitchen after breakfast. He showed her an envelope. “I’m gonna give it to her today,” he said, “If I come home with a broken face, you’ll know she showed it to Edwin.”
She hadn’t considered that end, and some protective motherly instinct made her say, “Maybe you should reconsider. You don’t want to get hurt.”
A scowl crossed his face. “That’s what’s wrong with this world—everybody talks about making it a better place, but nobody ever wants to stick their own neck out.” He put the letter into his book bag. “Well, I’m not gonna look the other way.”
“You’re right,” Tanya said, and put her hand on Tonio’s arm. “You’re doing the right thing.” She smiled. “But somebody has to do the worrying for the ones who do the right thing.”
“I’ll be okay.”
“I know you will.”
He stood there one more minute, looking down at her with his deep blue eyes in their frame of sooty lashes, and he was so beautiful it made her heart hurt. An odd flicker passed over the vibrant irises, and Tanya wondered again if he guessed who she really was. “Well,” he said, “see ya.”
“Good luck.”
Tonio nodded and left, and for the first time, Tanya saw that his walk, too, belonged to Victor—a long-legged lope.
“Why,” Tanya said to Desmary, watching him walk toward the bus stop, “would any girl in her right mind choose Edwin Salazar over a boy like Tonio?”
Desmary looked past Tanya to the road. “Bad boys are more exciting.”
Tanya nodded. Who had she chosen, after all? She turned to look at the old woman. “I find myself wanting to teach them, somehow, those girls. Teach them how to choose a man who is worthy of them.” On a rising tide of regret and worry, she punched the dough in her bowl. “I want to wash their faces so their pretty skin shines through, and put them in clothes that don’t make them look like twenty-year-olds.” She paused to look at Desmary. “I want them to know they don’t have to give themselves away.”
“It will come, child,” Desmary said. “You’ll be a fine teacher for them, when it’s time. Don’t be in too much of a hurry. You have things of your own to work out.”
“I know.” Tanya smiled. “And I have you to teach me.”
“Long life doesn’t necessarily make a woman wise.”
“That’s true. But I think you were born wise.”
“No, child.” Desmary sighed, and her eyes wore a faraway look. “I earned every morsel of everything I ever knew. The hard way, just like everybody else.”
Tanya smiled. “The way I’m learning it.”
Desmary seemed to bring herself into focus. “He knows, I think.”
“Knows what? Who?”
“Tonio knows—or is beginning to guess—that you are his mother.”
A cold finger stabbed her chest. “Why do you say that? Did he say something to you?”
“No I just sense it.”
With a sigh, Tanya nodded. “I think so, too.”
“Are you ready for it?”
“I don’t know,” she replied. “I honestly don’t know.”
Chapter Eleven
Dear Antonio,
I’m in a work camp now. It’s not ne
arly as restrictive as either of the other places. We work outside sometimes, and for the first time, I can see the horizon.
Every now and then lately, I realize I might really get out of here someday. I might really see you again.
I wrote to Ramón a few weeks ago. It wasn’t easy to find him, actually, but one of the Sisters who come out here to teach and minister helped me track him down. I guess you’re living on a ranch now. I haven’t heard from him yet, but I guess he hasn’t had time, either. I feel anxious, wondering if he’ll help me talk to the right people to get the restriction against seeing you lifted. The lawyer I talked to here said I have a good chance of getting it overturned. The climate for women who have committed crimes like mine is very different now.
It made it real to me, writing to Ramón. Made me try to imagine how you might look now, at fourteen. I imagined you on a horse, looking like your dad when I first met him. That probably isn’t too far from the truth.
With high spirits and lots of love, Mom
About 2:00, Ramón came into the kitchen. “Desmary, can I steal your helper this afternoon? I want to get her input on some more plans for this dance.”
“About time, I’d say,” Desmary replied. “You only have ten days.”
“There isn’t that much to do! You have the food covered, right?”
“Only a little—you haven’t given me any menus.”
“I’ll take care of the rest,” Tanya said. “Make a list of what you’ve already planned, and I’ll fancy up the rest.”
“Good girl.” Desmary swiveled on her stool—she had everything set up so she had to stand or walk as little as possible—and tugged out a scrap of paper and a pencil. She licked the pencil and started scribbling.
What else needs taking care of?” Tanya asked Ramón. She met his eyes, and blushed feverishly at the look in them. Wickedly, he winked.
“The counselors have taken care of the invitations, the letters to parents, both at the school and here. Any girl who comes out here has to have parental permission.”