JanesPrize

Home > Other > JanesPrize > Page 17
JanesPrize Page 17

by Margrett Dawson


  “Wait here.” Pierce pulled Jane away by the hand and took the dozen steps to the climbing frame. A young mother with the toddler gave them a questioning glance, looking from Maria back to Jane and Pierce. Maybe a complete stranger could feel the tension crackling in the air.

  Pierce turned Jane so her back was to Maria but he kept his eyes constantly on his stepmother.

  “We can’t do it,” he said.

  “Why not?”

  “It’s too risky. We have no idea what she’s really after. Maybe she wants to take you from me.”

  “She can’t very well do that. It’s more likely she’d send you back there. But I don’t think she will. What she says makes sense. I know I’d bring a child back to my side if he’d died and I had half a chance to let him live again.”

  Pierce shook his head. “I don’t trust her.”

  “So, what could we do to make it foolproof? So we can help her and protect ourselves at the same time?”

  Pierce rubbed one hand over his face. “We could talk to Pete Burrard. Tell him the story.”

  Jane gave a short laugh. “Fat chance he’d believe any of it.” She thought for a moment. “We could call Selma and get her advice.”

  Silence hung between them for a long beat.

  “Maria’s lonely. She’s back in the world but part of her is missing. She has nothing to gain by harming you except a long-awaited and by now imaginary vengeance. She can’t claim any of your inheritance. She has no legal link to you anymore. We have the possibility of condemning her to a bleak, loveless existence full of remorse and longing. Do you want to do that?”

  Pierce shook his head. “She wouldn’t be loveless for long.”

  “Maybe not, but she wants her child more than she wants anyone else. I think I’m willing to do it, provided Selma says it’s okay.”

  They walked back to where Maria sat, watching the child on the swing.

  She looked up as they approached. “When I was young,” she said, “I had a hard heart. I could never understand the bond between mother and child. To me it was all a myth created to keep women in servitude to a man, to a family. I was egocentric and selfish. But when I held Stan in my arms and watched him grow up I began to comprehend. When he got sick and died I thought my heart would break. Can you imagine what it has been like for nearly a century, knowing he was crouched inside the cupboard of that sideboard and never able to see him or touch him or tell him his mother still loved him?”

  “We’re going to make one phone call,” Jane said. “And if all seems well, I’ll do it for you.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Will you take me with you to your house while you make the call?” Maria dabbed at her eyes with a lace-trimmed handkerchief. “I’m so sure you will help me…”

  “I suppose—” Jane began.

  “No.” Pierce’s tone brooked no argument. He put an arm ‘round Jane’s waist. “We’ll do whatever we do alone.” He spun on his heel and Jane had to trot with him, heading back to their building.

  Jane punched the button for the elevator. “You don’t believe her.” Through the glass of the entrance doors she could see the tops of the trees that bordered the park and blocked her view of the young mother, the toddler on the swings and Maria. Maybe Maria hadn’t remained in the park, staring after them with a piteous expression.

  “Not one word.” Pierce stepped aside to let an elderly couple exit from the elevator.

  “But she was weeping about her boy.” The elevator began its ascent.

  “Weeping about herself, more like it. She hasn’t an unselfish bone in her body. She sees a chance to start life again and she means to grab it. Plus maybe some of the estate. It’s all about her.”

  Jane shook her head as she put the key in the lock of their apartment and closed the door behind them. The small flat was a sanctuary, all theirs. No one else had stayed there since they moved in. It held all the memories of their time together.

  Pierce sank heavily onto the couch and rubbed his hands through his hair, making it stand up in spikes. “Can I come to your house?” He mimicked Maria’s soft voice. “No fucking way! If I never see her again it’ll be too soon.”

  Jane sat beside him and smoothed a wayward lock over his forehead. She couldn’t imagine what it must be like to meet your murderer in flesh and blood. She supposed Pierce was handling it well, all things considered. “I’m sorry I upset you.”

  “It wasn’t you, it was her.” Pierce patted her hand. “God, I hate that woman.”

  “So, what are we going to do? Do you think she’ll go away if we ignore her?”

  “No. I think she’ll hang around and worm her way into our lives until she gets what she wants.” He sprang to his feet and paced in the small space behind the couch. “Depending on what it is she truly wants. She always was a devious, lying bitch.”

  “But if the boy is in the house…” Jane twisted around to see him. “Sit down, you’re giving me a crick in my neck.”

  Pierce sat on the edge of the cushions. “Hell, I don’t know. It wouldn’t surprise me if she made it all up. I never had a hint that little Stan was there and God knows we re-enacted enough times over the years.”

  “But if it’s a true replaying of the scene and you didn’t know he was there the first time—”

  “Even if he was there…” Pierce turned toward her and took her in his arms. “Even if what she says is true, why do I owe her anything at all? She murdered me, remember? She cut short my life…”

  Jane stroked his clenched jaw and kissed the deep line at the side of his mouth. “I could still call Selma.” She kissed him again. “Just to ask her opinion. To make sure what would be the best thing to do.”

  “The best thing is to stay as far away from Maria as possible.”

  “But if she’s here in the world and you think she won’t go away…”

  He sighed. “I know. Make the call if it will put your mind at ease.”

  “I’ll find the card she gave me.”

  Three minutes later Jane replaced the receiver. “She’s not there. I didn’t want to leave a message on the machine. I’ll try again later.”

  She looked at Pierce, still sitting on the couch. In all the time she’d known him she’d never seen him look so dejected. He had always been so confident, so full of life. Now a frown creased the space between his eyes and his shoulders slumped.

  “We’ll solve the problem,” she said softly.

  He looked up. “Sure we will.” He reached for her with a smile and she reclaimed her seat beside him.

  “We can’t run and hide, or make her go away as far as we know,” she said. “So we have to work at it. We have to find out the truth, make a plan, follow through.”

  Jane and Pierce sat side by side, holding hands. She leaned into him, put her free hand on his knee and dropped her head so it nestled against his jaw. She loved the scent of his shirt, of his skin, loved the feel of strong muscles under her hand.

  She felt his chest rise and fall as he took a deep breath. She turned her face to him and pressed her lips to his. “We have some time to kill,” she whispered, “and you’ve neglected me since we went to Boston.”

  Pierce responded with a deeper kiss, his arms tightening ‘round her like a drowning man clinging to his only hope of survival. Everything he knew about Maria and her sly, treacherous ways pounded in his head like jungle drums, ominous, threatening. What he had told Jane was true. His stepmother was a dangerous woman as well as an obstinate one. Of course she wanted to stay in the modern world now she had found a way to cross the barrier. Jane said they couldn’t send her away but he wasn’t so sure it would be impossible. He just feared what they might have to do to rid themselves of her presence.

  He felt Jane’s fingers on the nape of his neck and suddenly he was hard, his breath coming short and sharp. He was suffused with longing for her, filled with an insatiable desire to possess her, to reaffirm his existence in the warmth of her flesh. He was real, he was fle
sh and blood. Alive, dammit, and not about to be deprived of what he had found. A flicker of anger added a spark to the heat of his lust.

  Still holding her, he rose to his feet and steered her to the bedroom. A memory of all the times they had made love flashed through his mind like an erotic video. At first he had wanted her because she was there, she was young and willing and he’d been starved for sex. Then he had felt grateful for what she did for him and, as he grew to know her, he began to love her openness, her acceptance of him, her courage. She was loyal. She loved to laugh. And how many women would have faced the knowledge of his situation with such fearlessness and determination? At first she’d had no idea that there would be any material benefit from helping him. That had been a refreshing change from the women he had known in his first life.

  But now that Maria had found them he sensed that this amazing relationship they had forged together was in danger. He knew they were moving into another phase, one where their commitment to each other would be severely tested—and it scared him to death.

  Give him a business document or a column of figures and he could deal with them swiftly and coolly. This was something else.

  In the bedroom the drapes were closed against the glare of the sun. He stopped next to the bed and relaxed his hold on her but kept his hands on her shoulders. His gaze scanned her from head to toe. He pushed back her hair. There were summer freckles on her nose and he kissed the tip with soft lips. Her skin was lightly tanned and he knew that if he undressed her the honey color would shade to pearly white over her buttocks and her breasts.

  Her breath quickened as his fingers skimmed her shoulders. His hand flowed down to her breasts and the nipples puckered, standing out against the fabric of her shirt.

  Her tongue darted out and moved slowly over her lower lip, leaving a faint trace of moisture. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, imagining her tongue sliding over the tip of his throbbing cock.

  While her eyes never left his face he undressed her slowly, deliberately delaying the release of her breasts from the flimsy bra. When he removed it the beautiful globes swung free but he did not touch them even though his fingers ached to encircle each one.

  When he opened the snap of her shorts, the fabric slid down her legs to pool at her feet. At last she stood before him naked but for a dark green thong. He hooked his thumbs in the side loops and pushed the last scrap of clothing down to the floor. As the piece of light fabric traveled its downward path he heard her exhale a long breath.

  Still she did not move. She stood gloriously naked before him, this woman who had given him her friendship, her body, her assistance and her love. She was the woman of all his dreams and he might lose her.

  “I don’t deserve you.” He pressed his lips to the throb of her pulse in her neck. She placed her hands on his head and held him close. He breathed in the apricot perfume of her skin.

  “My turn,” she whispered, releasing him. If he had been slow and deliberate in removing her clothes, she was quick and decisive. In a few seconds she had tugged the shirt over his head, unsnapped his pants. She kicked the clothing away from their feet. “We won’t need that for a while.”

  Her voice was husky and a thin sheen of moisture beaded the delicious cleft between her breasts. He reached for her but she pushed his arms away then smiled up at him. Reaching down, she cradled his balls in her crooked fingers. His penis stood up, hard and ready. She stepped one pace back and bent to seize the tip with her lips. He felt her tongue linger on the sensitive head and he groaned aloud. In response she sucked him in deep and he swayed on his feet.

  “Oops.” She released him. “I love that,” she said, “but maybe you should lie down.” She pushed him onto the bed. He had no power to resist even if he’d wanted to.

  She stroked his cock and balls with light fingers. A tremor snaked through him. “I love the feel of your cock, the texture, the satin feel. I love the taste of you.”

  “You’ll kill me, woman,” he groaned.

  “Never fear. No one died of this.” He pulsed in her hand and she licked the pearly drops as they appeared.

  He found a reserve of strength and took her again in his arms, lifting her then lowering her on his body so her breasts were crushed against his chest.

  “I love your sexy mouth,” he murmured, kissing her hard.

  “I know and I love every bit of you.” She hesitated. “I want to do something—”

  He raised his head from hers, unsure of what she meant. “What?”

  “Something we’ve talked about but never done.” She wound her arms around his neck and buried her face against his shoulder. “I wasn’t ready.” Her nails scraped just below his ear and he tensed.

  “Tell me.”

  She let go her breath and raised her face to bring her lips to his. Her tongue probed between his lips, entwining with his. His heart rate notched up, if that were possible. His hands wandered down her body until they rested on the curve of her buttocks. His fingers edged a fraction into the cleft between her cheeks.

  He felt her legs move apart in response. “That’s it.” Her warm breath fluttered against his cheek as she spoke.

  “This.” His fingers inched a knuckle deeper into her cleft. He could hardly think, his mind and body swept away by what he was doing to her.

  “Yes, that. You told me you would do it that way one day. I’m ready.”

  To be sure, he had said he would do her that way, back when he was arrogant, much too sure of himself, and before he began to truly care. Then he had said it again before they went to see Selma. He had even touched her, told her that he would show her, but he had never imagined she would take the lead. If it ever happened he had supposed that he would cajole, move her slowly toward acceptance.

  “You’ve never done it.” He knew the answer but he had to ask.

  “Never. But it was exciting when you touched me. I think I would like more.”

  “Tell me exactly what you mean.” This had the potential to destroy everything if he was mistaken. He had to get it right.

  “Oh for heaven’s sake! What’s not to understand?” Still lying on him, his hands moving in and around the cheeks of her behind, she raised her head to look into his eyes. Speaking slowly and clearly, she said, “I want you to fuck me in the ass.”

  His throat went dry. He was positive she had never framed that sentence before in her life. His balls tightened. “You’re sure?”

  She nodded. “You’re being deliberately obtuse. Read my lips. We’ve done everything else together. Your fingers have even—been partway.” He saw a flush rise in her cheeks. “If I’m ever going to do it I want it to be with you. And I think you want it.”

  “If you do.” His heart thumped so loudly in his chest he thought she would hear it. His cock made the decision for him. “I’ll do it right.”

  “I know.” She smiled that smile that raised just the corners of her mouth and raised his temperature to fever pitch. She reached for a condom in the bedside table. “Will you need this?”

  “Thank you.” He took it from her. “Then let’s do it.”

  He grasped her hips and rolled her off him onto her back, propping himself on one elbow. She gazed up at him, her blue eyes wide and trusting.

  He let his fingers blaze a trail down the silk of her body, pausing over the white patches of her breasts and groin. Then he followed the same path with his lips and his tongue, licking and kissing as he went.

  She quivered and her nipples stood up in twin peaks again. He circled one tip with his tongue then took it between his lips, nuzzling until she gasped and her hips began to lift in a slow rhythm.

  He lavished more attention on her breasts until her hands found his and she tried to move them lower. He manacled her wrists with one hand and held them while he scooted down her body, pausing at her belly button, teasing it with his tongue. She began to writhe and gasp aloud.

  “You have to endure a bit more, my love.”

  Releasing her hands, he s
lipped his forearms under her buttocks to lift her mound to his mouth. Then he thrust his tongue between her pussy lips and began to lick and suck, inhaling the sweet, musky aroma of her arousal.

  “Pierce, please.” Her hips picked up the movement, dancing to a wild musical beat, and her head rolled from side to side.

  She was almost ready to explode.

  He sat back on his heels, his hands on her thighs. He touched her wet lips with his thumbs, so lightly he could barely feel her. But she responded with a lift of her buttocks and a sharp inhalation.

  “Ready?”

  She smiled at him. “Don’t make me wait any longer. I want you inside me when I come.”

  He lifted her and turned her on her knees, her forearms resting on the bed. Gently he eased her legs apart and moved closer. She was completely open to him, her pussy dripping warm, fragrant juices, the mounds of her ass cheeks inviting him into that perfect, puckered hole.

  He reached for the bottle of scented oil that stood on the bedside table and poured some onto his fingertips. If he moved just an inch or so he could see the contours of her breasts rising and falling with her breath. She turned her head over her left shoulder, watching him in anticipation. He inserted one oiled finger into her anus and she moved her hips higher.

  She was so tight. He had to make her as ready as he was because he knew he wouldn’t last one minute once he slid into that taut hole. His cock was on fire, screaming for release. He probed deeper, sliding his finger inside her until it was buried to the first knuckle. Her muscles tightened around it. He began to move it in and out so she would grow used to the feel of it.

  He reached around her to rub her clit with the thumb of his other hand. She whimpered. “Yes, yes,” she moaned. “I love it. Don’t stop.”

  Reassured, he pulled out his finger and quickly unrolled the condom and slid it on. “Touch yourself,” he whispered. “Put your fingers where mine were. Make yourself come while I fuck you.”

 

‹ Prev