A Desperate Longing

by Brenda Williamson

  Suddenly, Kacy couldn’t feel her limbs. She was so cold—as if she were in a freezer. Her knees wobbled and halfway across the bedroom on her way to Gulliver, her eyes blurred and her mind began to play tricks on her. Objects in the room moved. Voices, indistinguishable in the background, produced the kind of terror she feared most—losing consciousness around strangers. The nightmare hadn’t ended. She would go back into the dark pit of torture.

  No sooner did she reach out for something to tie her to reality, than her legs gave out and she crumpled to the floor. She heard footsteps and then a man’s voice.

  “That’s my girl, Kacy. That’s my girl.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Kacy opened her eyes. Her teeth chattered, making her jaw hurt.

  “Kacy honey, can you hear me?” Gulliver asked.

  She stared at him in relief. He was the reality she looked for and he came into her nightmare to rescue her again.

  “That’s my girl. Just think calmly and rationally. You’re in shock.”

  She turned her head and looked at things she didn’t understand. Chair legs, the carpet and even her slippers appeared as foreign objects. Blinking rapidly, she tried focusing on Gulliver’s voice. Her surroundings cleared and she breathed easier.

  She reached up to his cheek and he pulled her palm to his lips, kissing the center.

  “Why are we on the floor?” She closed her eyes and snuggled into his embrace.

  “You went into shock and passed out. I thought it best not to move you. Besides, I’ve got you all bundled up safe and warm.”

  “I went looking for the note in the bathroom and I don’t know what happened next. I got so cold I couldn’t think.” She squirmed, trying to sit up, but the blanket from her bed hindered her movements. She hadn’t noticed how he’d wrapped her in a cocoon with a blanket.

  “Relax. There’s no reason on earth for you to get up.”

  “You can’t be comfortable.”

  “But I am.”

  She gave a grunt. “Liar.”

  “That’s my girl’s spirit coming back.”

  She dropped her head back and looked up at him. “Is there any reason you can’t kiss a woman in shock?”

  “None.” He held her hand to his cheek while their lips melded together.

  Gulliver warmed her in ways the blanket never could. His gentle lips brushed against hers and his tongue pushed into her mouth and curled around hers. Kacy’s reluctance with intimacy seemed a distant memory with Gulliver. If she’d know him for a hundred years, she didn’t think she’d feel any closer to him. If she believed in soul mates, then she would know she’d found hers.

  “I’d like to move to the bed.” She stroked his face.

  “Mmm, me too,” he hummed, and made no effort to stop kissing around her face. “Except I have some phone calls to make and I should let you rest.”

  “You do understand what I’m asking.” She put her fingers to his lips and held him at bay to wait for an answer.

  “We’ll get there, Kacy. We’re in no rush, remember? I said I could wait.”

  “Until I was ready, and I am.”

  Her entire cold body flushed with heat at how forward she sounded. His smile only heightened the awareness. She felt so demanding. If it wasn’t a needy, crazy Kacy, then it would be a sex-starved Kacy. It seemed she had no in-between personality.

  “That’s good to know for future reference.”

  “You’re teasing me.”

  “Uh huh.” He sucked her fingers into his mouth.

  She pulled her hand away and covered his mouth with hers. The kiss left her with the promise of more to come.

  * * *

  Kacy stared out the car window on their drive to the police station. Her body, though depleted of real energy, continued to work on the renewed adrenaline in her system. The nap she’d had wasn’t restful even though she told Gulliver she felt terrific.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “I really wish you’d stop asking me that. You know I’ll lie, so let’s keep a positive outlook. I’ve not collapsed, I’m not in tears and I can smile.” She grinned at him.

  “A sad clown could do better.”

  “Everybody can do better.”

  “Really, Kacy, I’ll understand if you’d like to wait until tomorrow to talk to a sketch artist.”

  “No, this needs done. Somehow, this all has to end. I can’t take it anymore.”

  Gulliver’s hand stretched to her and she laced her fingers with his.

  “We’re almost there.”

  Kacy kept her gaze straight ahead. She refused to let Gulliver see how she feared a repetition of the way the police treated her in the past. She didn’t want to relive the questions and snide accusations that she was to blame. Scanning the roads they passed, the side mirror outside the car door offered her a view behind. No blue cars appeared and when they reached the parking lot at the police station, she breathed a relieved sigh. Gulliver came around to her door and she waited for him to open it in case her hand was as weak as it felt.

  “Remember, take your time and give every detail, even if it doesn’t seem important, and this will be painless and over before you know it.”

  “You’ll stay with me?”

  “Absolutely.”

  For two hours, Kacy sat in the most uncomfortable chair in the world. The cold steel reminded her how far she had fallen from the sanity tree. Gulliver wouldn’t sit. Nervous energy kept him up. If she’d known of the discomfort in sitting, Kacy was sure she would have opted for standing as well.

  Gulliver’s stance, for whatever reason, did provide her with the kind of closeness she needed. He often positioned himself behind her with his hands either resting on her shoulders or rubbing down the sides of her arms.

  The use of the computer surprised her. Old movies showed a man with a pencil and pad. She had both a woman artist and a display screen. She looked at hundreds of eyes, noses and mouths. After a while, all the features began to look alike and she went through them again and again. Finally, the long procedure turned up a fairly good likeness of the man after her.

  She sat back and waited. Within a minute, they were looking at the color picture on paper.

  She stared at the face. “He doesn’t look so scary, does he?”

  “The worst ones never are.” Gulliver kissed the top of her head as he leaned to look at the picture. “He probably goes to church, participates in his kids’ school and is a regular guy to his friends.”

  “Are we done here?” She handed him the picture, not wanting the souvenir.

  “Yes. Now we can go home.” Gulliver held her face. “I’m very proud of you.”

  “Oh? Because I didn’t faint, cry or run?” She got off the chair and stretched her arms to remove kinks in parts of her she forgot needed to move.

  “Because you bravely described everything in great detail.”

  “You’d make a better cop than the ones that first investigated my case. They made me so angry at their incompetence.”

  “I’m going to suggest something and how about you agree to it without question?”

  “Sounds mysteriously underhanded.”

  “I want you to stay at my house.”

  They got in the car and headed out onto the highway.

  “All right.”

  “That was easy. Are you hungry?”

  “Yes, will you cook me dinner?”

  “Why do I feel like I’ve just fallen into a trap?” He covered her hand on the seat of the car. “You don’t have to answer that, but I don’t have any food at my house. Are you up to a walk through the grocery store?”

  “If you’re cooking, I’ll crawl down every aisle. I haven’t eaten all day.”

  “I should have seen to that earlier.”

  * * *

  They had a simple dinner. She let Gulliver off easy in the grocery store and pointed out the quickest meal—frozen dinners. She had fish and he took the same. While they ate, the conversation turne
d to his lack of time to unpack and she offered to help.

  Now she looked at the stack of boxes. It wasn’t as much as she had expected. But then coming from an apartment, she could understand—as a bachelor, he had no reason to own much.

  “See what I mean? I’ve hardly opened a box, so have at it,” he told her with a cocky smile.

  “I offered to help, not do the whole job.” She picked up one carton marked “kitchen”. It rattled as she shifted it and looked beneath at the next box. “It doesn’t sound very well-packed.”

  “I sort of dumped the contents from the drawers into it. Nothing appeared breakable or irreplaceable.” He carried the box to the kitchen.

  “If that’s the case, why not dump it all and buy new?” She opened a drawer and found a lone knife. It could have been a mate to hers and she slid her fingers along the handle, trying to recall if her set had oval or round steel rivets.

  “Here, I’ll get it.” He took out the knife, cut the duct tape on the lid of the box, and tossed the knife back in the drawer. “There you go. No excuses for not putting it away.” He leaned against the counter, forcing the drawer shut and hiding the knife.

  She lifted the flaps and looked in the box. It was a packaged junk drawer. Batteries, pens, pencils, paperclips, rubber bands, film, disposable camera and a half depleted roll of toilet paper.

  She rummaged through the contents and tried to ignore Gulliver’s scrutiny. She read his thoughts from the expression on his face. He wanted to know what happened to her and she really did want to share. But how did she start? How does anyone tell a horrific story and stay distanced? He’d have to settle hearing about the small details scattered over time.

  She took out a black sock from the box and held it up. “Are you missing one of these?”

  “I’ve got a theory that socks get up on their own at night and hide,” he said, taking the one she held. “I have lots of this little runaway’s mates.”

  Kacy opened a kitchen drawer. “Then maybe we’ll round them all up and jail them in one drawer.” She gave a nervous laugh.

  “Hey, you said you were going to put stuff away where it should go.” He walked over and looked at the contents she dumped. “Isn’t this cheating?”

  “Junk drawer thingamajigs have to stay together or how will we ever know where to find your next runaway sock?” She turned to him.

  “Yes, how will we, indeed?” He put a hand up on her cheek and kept her face to him as he kissed her.

  Kacy needed no coaxing. His fingers looped around hers and he stepped back, taking her with him.

  “I did manage to unpack the sheets and make the bed,” he murmured between pecks to her lips.

  “I’d like to see that,” she hummed, shuffling along, coiled around him. “Men don’t usually tuck the corners or smooth the wrinkles.”

  “I won’t argue that, so if you don’t like it, we can remake it.” He kissed under her chin. “That is if I’m not asking too much of you. I wouldn’t want to be a pesky neighbor.”

  Kacy looked over his shoulder into the bedroom. The bed had a sheet thrown cockeyed over it. It wasn’t a fitted sheet, just the top sheet and nothing else. She liked that he was inventive with his fibs.

  Gulliver glanced behind him. “Oops, I guess I only dreamed of making the bed.”

  Kacy giggled and pushed him back so he flopped on the mattress.

  “I guess.” She climbed on the bed and straddled his thighs.

  Gulliver pulled her down. “Looks that way.”

  It felt natural to be in his arms rolling around on the mattress.

  “Kacy?” He held her still. “This isn’t the time to ask, but is there anything…?” He paused in apparent thought. “Is there anything I shouldn’t say?”

  “I don’t know, like what?” She looked at him curious.

  “Like things that are voiced during…you know, while we’re…never mind, I’ll try to keep quiet.”

  Kacy swung her leg over him and sat on the mattress. “I don’t want you to be silent if you don’t want to. I want…”

  “Normal, okay.” He turned on his side and put a hand on her stomach. “Kacy you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.”

  “That’s spreading the charm a little thick. You agreed to normal.” Her lips pursed and he kissed them.

  “I’ll keep telling you that until I make you believe it.”

  Kacy closed her eyes, liking the way she already did believe it. The gentle glide of his caress took in the shape of her breast. The hardness of his legs pressed against her softness. Gulliver was everything a man should be and she had trouble seeing her life without him in it.

  He lifted the shirt she had on so a whisper of cotton floated over her head. She sucked in her breath and waited for him to say something. The only conversation came in the form of his hands drawing the straps of her bra down her arms. He kissed feather-light over the ball of her shoulder, up her neck, behind her ear and to the side of her head. The hooks of the bra were undone and the lust burned hotter inside her stomach.

  Gulliver let go for a minute while he tugged his black T-shirt over his head. The display of his chest, sculpted in hard muscle, drew her gaze from his face. He tossed the shirt over his shoulder. His stare fixated on her partial nudity. The blush sweeping up her naked flesh made her warm.

  He moved to the side of the bed and took off his pants. She folded her arms over her breasts, not feeling quite so bold while the lights were on.

  “Come here.” He turned, dragging a leg up while the other remained dangling over the side of the bed and held his arm out for her.

  She scooted toward him.

  “Nervous?”

  “Of course.” She looked down and bit her lip.

  She hadn’t expected to see his cock fully erect. She reached a hand out and traced the crooked vein along the top of his shaft. Everything in her wanted Gulliver to know her down to the barest of intimacies and she wanted to know him with the same familiarity.

  While she stroked him, he touched the scars on her breasts.

  “I’m really sorry you had to go through what you did.”

  “Me too.”

  The tiny white marks left a reminder how her attacker had pricked her skin with the tip of a kitchen knife. Every scar had a painful memory attached.

  Heat flowed beneath her skin. She moved closer and mated her warm, flushed torso to his cool, hard body. She put one hand to his waist and one to his back, and he pulled her tight against him.

  The ache in her yielded to his breathless voice tickling her ear.

  “You don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for.” He kissed her jaw. “Just know that I find you the most attractive, passionate, caring woman I’ve ever met.”

  She dropped her head back in the palm of his hand. Sweeping her fingers up and down, she dusted the slab of muscle on his back. She could lie there soaking up the deepening lust of his gaze or she could compel him to consume her in the fire of his hunger.

  “Make love to me, Gulliver.” She stroked his face and stared longingly into his eyes. “I want to feel your heartbeat next to mine.”

  “And you don’t think this is close enough.” His arm around her back squeezed her firmer.

  “I want to feel it from within me.” Her words extracted a moan and a hard demanding kiss from him.

  He pushed her back with his masculine lips firmly sealed to hers. His tongue thrust inside and took total control of her mouth.

  “I want you, honey.” He left her mouth burning with the promises of sweet rapture to come. “I want to make slow, hot love to you.”

  “Yes,” she managed to reply, not wanting him to think for a moment that she didn’t want that very fantasy to come true.

  His lips touched her breasts. They tantalized her flesh with each brush over her curves. Her nipples, taut and pebble-hard, softened to the repeated swirl of his tongue. The lavish suckling made her arch each time he drew away.

  “Gulliver.” Her v
oice was a breathless encouragement.

  She squirmed against the tingling sparks of fiery heat his fingertips left as they glided over her ribs, down her belly and lower.

  Trying to remember to breathe, not to flinch and to participate, she whimpered. Gulliver clouded all those details, as he always did when he came near. She liked the self-confidence he possessed. She especially liked the way he controlled the moment, not her.

  Her heart danced excitedly. She dug her fingers into his shoulders and her toes curled in the sheets.

  “Relax, this is going to feel good.”

  Oh, she knew that. It was the anticipation that tensed her muscles.

  His wide hands pressed the soft insides of her thighs and held her open. He placed kisses just below her navel, leaving a trail skipping over her skin down to the top of her pussy. She bucked at the quick flicker of his tongue into the top of the open area. He repeated the swift movement and she couldn’t stop herself from jolting. It was as if lightning struck the nerves.

  The playful jabs worked into serious licking that teased her outer lips. He nibbled her flesh and tugged gently. Once the stimulated layers swelled, readying for the climax, Gulliver’s tongue darted into the sensitive inner region

  Her deep moan of pleasure made him aggressive. Suckling her hard, he heightened her senses. She threw her arms over her head and twisted her hips, forcing her cunt against his mouth. Her sounds were no longer shallow moans. They were loud cries of ecstasy.

  “Oh God, Gulliver.” She heaved her body upward.

  Kacy needed something to clutch. She buried her fingers in his hair. “Yes, oh God, yes.”

  She pulled him into her, rocking herself on his lunging tongue. His nose brushed her tender clit and doubled the effectiveness of the oral stimulation.

  Then the orgasm hit her. She screamed until the sounds she made were wheezing gasps to catch her breath.