Passion's Price

by Gwynne Forster

  “What? Tell me. I’ll do anything you want. Anything! Tell me.” She grabbed his thigh in an effort to pull him on top of her, but he didn’t budge. His hands skimmed the inside of her thighs until she trapped them. “What do you want, baby?”

  “I want… I want my nipple in your mouth.”

  He sucked on her nipple, pulling, teasing it with the tip of his tongue until the pulsating began in her vagina. “Is it good? Do you like it?” he asked, kissing his way down to her belly, where he lingered long enough to make her hips sway.

  “Honey, please. You’re playing with me. I want you to get into me.”

  “I will. Give yourself to me. Let me have you the way I want you.” He spread her legs and rubbed her clitoris until she began to thrash, moving her head from side to side. Why couldn’t it come? She wanted it so badly. “Mike. Honey, I’ll die if I don’t have it. Please get in me.”

  He raised her knees, bent to her and let her feel the thrust of his tongue. She screamed from the pleasure of it. And then he began to suck, nip and kiss alternately, bringing her to the brink and then letting the feeling go, until she thought she’d go mad.

  “Get in me, Mike. Honey, I can’t stand it.”

  He kissed his way up her body, and when he lay above her, looking down into her face, he smiled, electrifying her. She reached down, took his penis into her hands, raised her hips and felt him sink into her.

  “Yes. Oh, yes,” she said as he began to move.

  “Come with me, baby,” he said, and she knew it wouldn’t last long. He unleashed his power, giving it to her in short, hard thrusts, and, immediately, the swell of heat began at the bottom of her feet.

  “Don’t strain for it, baby,” he whispered. “We can’t miss.”

  He put an arm beneath her hips, his other one around her shoulder, and began to storm within her, sending waves of sensation crashing through her vagina. She heard herself moan in frustration. Her thighs quivered out of control, and the swell settled in her vagina, pumping and squeezing until she cried aloud.

  “Honey, help me. I…I’m dying. Oh, Mike. I love you. I love you so!”

  Her vagina trapped him, squeezing and clutching him. “You’re mine. Mine. Only mine,” he cried out and fell into her arms.

  She threw her arms wide, totally spent and happier than she’d ever been in her life. After about ten minutes during which she felt lifeless, she managed to lock her arms around him and squeeze him to her.

  “Mike, please don’t let me wake up and find that I’ve been dreaming.”

  “You aren’t. This is us, sweetheart. You and me. And if we stay true to what we feel, nothing can ever separate us.” He levered himself on his elbows, gazed down at her and grinned. “You did one hell of a job on me, woman. By the time I got to you, I was so fired up that I thought I was going to disappoint both of us. How’d you ever think up that scenario?”

  “I was wondering what I’d do for almost four hours. Then I asked myself what I could do to make certain that you didn’t take me to visit Boyd, then to a long, drawn-out dinner and finally bring me home and act the perfect gentleman, leaving it to me to make the first move. I figured that if it was up to me, I’d better leave no stone unturned.”

  “It was a clever scheme, and I enjoyed every second of it. I know you have a wicked streak that is always close to the surface, but this was more creative than devilish. Where’d you get the liquor and wine?”

  “I found a telephone directory and had it delivered.”

  “I sure hope you ordered more than one ham sandwich.”

  “I did. Would you hand me that red robe in the closet.”

  “You mean you’re planning to hide this perfect body from me?” His hands caressed her buttocks. “I didn’t get a good look.”

  “You were doing what you had to do, and trust me, love, you did it expertly,” she said.

  He rolled out of the bed and strode proudly naked to the closet. “Keep talking to me like this, and I’ll have such a big head that you won’t be able to stand me.”

  “Not to worry. I’d help you keep your feet on the ground.”

  “Sure. Every woman knows how to do that,” he said, helping her into the robe.

  She didn’t like his tone when he said it. “I don’t want to get into anything that’s unpleasant. I’m happy, and I want to stay that way. Let’s go to the kitchen, so I can feed you.” The two of them headed downstairs.

  “Feed me what? There’s nothing here except something for breakfast. I thought we’d eat out.”

  She put a finger to his lips. “Shh. I always heard that a man won’t make love when he’s hungry, and that afterward, he wants to eat. Set the table in the kitchen, and we can eat in ten minutes.” She put the tray of food and the cheese on the table, sliced the bread and looked around for glasses. “There’s a bottle of wine and a pitcher of martinis in the refrigerator,” she told him and sat down.

  “You’re resourceful. I like that,” he said. He opened the wine, put stem glasses at their places and poured a martini for himself. “Would you like a martini?”

  She puckered her nose. “If I drank that, I’d be useless for the rest of the night. No, thanks.”

  Mike hooted. “Thanks for the warning that I’d better stay good and sober. I wouldn’t exchange you for all the gold in Fort Knox.” After saying grace, he ate some crab salad. “This is wonderful. When did you do all this?”

  “Four hours is plenty of time for something like this. I knew I wasn’t going to let you take me out of this house tonight, so that meant getting us some food.”

  “I’d have done that.”

  “Sure, but in that case, the evening wouldn’t have gone as I wanted. I don’t believe in leaving anything important to chance. Are you planning to visit me next weekend?”

  “Sure, if you want me to. This is great cheese. In fact, this is a lot of food for two people. You planning to give me a workout?”

  She looked at him from beneath the long, lowered lashes that swept her cheeks. “Would I do something like that?”

  “Damn right you would, and I intend to see that you get the chance.”

  Chapter 7

  Darlene sniffed the fragrant air. Coffee? Maggie must have changed from her regular… Something brushed her cheek, and when she attempted to knock it aside, it captured her mouth. Her eyes flew open.

  “Mike! What on earth! Oh.”

  “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten that you spent the night in my arms.” His lips brushed her forehead. “Drink this and come downstairs. Breakfast will be ready in twenty minutes.”

  She sipped the coffee, looked at him and smiled. “I could get used to you. What time is it?”

  “Seven-thirty. I have a full day and evening planned for us.”

  “Seven-thirty? You’d make a great prison guard. What should I put on?”

  “It’s too cool for shorts, so some kind of pants or jeans would do it. I thought we’d go over to Meeman-Shelby Forest State Park, rent some bicycles and explore the trails. That park has some wonderful lakes, so we could go boating, if you like. We can visit Boyd at lunchtime, come back here and rest awhile, then make an evening of it. Did you bring something dressy?” She nodded. “Good. Get a move on, woman,” he said and left the room whistling.

  Darlene dragged herself out of bed, stretched and looked at the pillow beside the one on which she had slept. Yes, she had really spent a night in bed with a man. She remembered that his hand had rested beneath her breasts, and that he’d fondled them occasionally as he slept. She hugged herself and skipped to the bathroom. After taking a shower, she dressed in a yellow striped cotton shirt, jeans and a pair of Reeboks and managed to get to the kitchen in twenty minutes.

  “You’re a woman dear to my heart,” he said. “One of the reasons is your punctuality. You don’t keep me waiting. I have orange juice, fresh sweet raspberries or fresh pineapple. What is your pleasure, madam? Hmm. You look great first thing in the morning. I could definitely get use
d to you,” he added, repeating her words to him earlier.

  “What do I get in addition to fruit?”

  “That’s a loaded question, baby. In the event that you mean food, you can have scrambled eggs, toast, sausage and grits.”

  “I meant food. And I’ll have all that and some raspberries. Thank you.”

  “You wound me. I can give you all that and me, too.”

  “Sex doesn’t go with breakfast,” she replied, her manner playfully haughty.

  “Don’t you fool yourself. Sex goes with everything.”

  She gaped at him. “Really? You’ve had sex while you ate? That’s unbelievable.”

  “Cognac goes with a gourmet meal, but you don’t drink it until you’ve finished eating.”

  “Very clever.”

  She finished what she regarded as a delicious breakfast, drained her coffee cup and looked at him with one eye closed. “Your wife won’t need to know how to cook. You’re perfect at it.”

  He leaned back and let his gaze travel over her. “That so? I guess I could handle that, provided she didn’t mind getting up all times of night with our newborn babies and changing all the diapers. You know what I’m saying? Of course, if we went fifty-fifty with those things, I’d do whatever needed to be done.”

  “You can’t carry a baby nine months,” she said, not quite certain that she liked his reasoning, because she disliked cooking.

  When he sat forward, she realized that they were having a serious discussion. He strummed his long, tapered fingers on the table. “No, I can’t, Darlene, but I can carry her for the nine months and for the remainder of our lives, and I’d do it gladly and happily.”

  She reached over and stroked his hand. “I didn’t mean for this to be a serious discussion. I was half-flippant, because I’m not crazy about cooking, although I’m not bad at it. Let’s move on.”

  “Fine, but I was one hundred percent serious.”

  “I know you were. I’ll do the dishes.”

  Laughter poured out of him, and she welcomed it. “You’re a quick study,” he said, “but I’ll do it. By the time you get a jacket or a heavy sweater, I’ll have finished. Ten minutes?”

  “Eleven. I have to brush my teeth.”

  She’d wandered into that conversation unprepared, but she’d learned something about him, and it was something she should already have grasped. Michael Raines would take care of his wife and his children just as he did his work, leaving no stone unturned. And she’d learned another thing—when it came to his future as a family man, he did not have a sense of humor.

  Ten minutes later, she met him at the bottom of the stairs wearing a burnt orange cardigan. “Won’t I get too warm pedaling a bike in this sweater?”

  Mike buttoned her sweater and belted it. “If so, you can tie it around your waist. I think you’ll be comfortable, because it’s only sixty-five degrees.”

  He put a long, woolen scarf around her neck. “Let’s go. I want to kiss you so badly, but if I do, I know I won’t want to stop.”

  She reached up, kissed him on the mouth and rushed to the door. “That wasn’t a kiss,” she called over her shoulder.

  “No, it wasn’t. It was a tease.”

  At the park’s general store, Mike parked his car and rented bicycles and helmets for them. “How long has it been since you rode a bike?” he asked Darlene.

  “Oh, about three months. I can hold my own.”

  He bought some candy bars, along with two thermos bottles, which he filled with coffee. Then he smiled. “Who knows? You may get hungry.”

  “After that breakfast you fed me?” Suddenly, something flashed in her eyes that he hadn’t seen in them before, and her lips quivered as she spoke. “You’re a wonderful human being. You…you’re such a sweet man. I could…”

  “You could what?”

  “A lot of things. Let’s go.”

  At times, she could be so bold, and at others, she was as shy as a small child. He wanted to hug her close to him and protect her from everything, but he restrained himself, fought back the emotion that washed over him like a mammoth ocean wave and draped an arm loosely across her shoulder. Outside of the store, she donned the helmet, and he fastened it beneath her chin. Then he watched while she swung onto the bike like a champion racer, got on his own and guided her toward his favorite trail.

  Autumn had already begun to change the colors in nature. They rode along a winding bicycle path into the deep woods, woods now resplendent in yellow, orange, brown, red and green. He hadn’t thought that they would find such beauty, for he usually rode there in spring and midsummer.

  “This is spectacular,” she said. “Thank you so much for bringing me here. It’s breathtaking.”

  It pleased him that they could enjoy nature together. “We’re very near the lake. Shall we go over there? We’ll have to walk our bikes.”

  “Yes. I’d love to see the reflection of these trees in the lake. What’s that?”

  “The fish are jumping. We can’t fish because we don’t have a license.”

  “I love to fish in the Monocacy River about three-quarters of a mile from our house. Next time I’m here, maybe we can fish.”

  “I’ll get a license.”

  That look in her eyes again! He doubted that she was aware of whatever was going on there, but it would soon reveal itself. They leaned the bikes against a big oak tree and stood quietly as they feasted their eyes on the lake and its reflections of the forest.

  Suddenly, she grasped his arm and, still gazing at the lake, said, “This place is like you.”

  He sucked in his breath. He would never have expected to hear any woman compare him to such beautiful scenery. “Thank you, but I think you’re overstating it.” Still, her words touched him deeply, and with his hands on her shoulders, he turned her to face him. “I’m just a man, Darlene, and I can and do make mistakes. Don’t make me into something that I’m not and can’t be.”

  She laid her head to the side and looked at him. Flirting. He shook his head as if to clear it. She was actually flirting with him in a public park owned by the state of Tennessee. Shivers plowed through him, and he pushed her away. If she touched him, he would explode. She knew that he wanted her like he wanted air to breathe, and he was damned if he’d be a victim of it. Oh, hell, maybe he was being unfair to her. He was about to suggest that they leave when she raised her head, lowered her lashes and ran her tongue over the seam of her lips.

  Damn her! He picked her up and braced her against a big poplar tree. “You listen to me, Darlene. You told me last night that you love me, and you told me that half a dozen times, but always when we are having sex. Sex and love are not the same. Do you hear me? A man can have sex with a woman he doesn’t give a damn about, and all he wants is physical relief. “But I made love to you last night, woman, and it wasn’t just a mere sexual experience. I gave you myself, my body, my heart, my whole being. Tell me you gave me the same.” He winced at his words. Good Lord! Had he gone too far?

  Tears streamed down her face, but she looked him in the eye. “I know you gave yourself to me, Mike. All of you, and that made me love you more. But do you know that you took just as much from me? Do you know that I am not and cannot ever again be the woman I was when I awakened yesterday morning? You made me a part of you. I awakened this morning to your kiss, and I was so proud, not because I came to life in your arms, but because I was one with you. Do you understand what I’m trying to say?”

  He did, and he told her so. Holding her closer, he said, “We’re magic together. I want to capture in our daily lives what we find together in bed.”

  She let her fingers graze his beloved cheek. “Does that mean I have to like to cook?”

  He parted his lips over hers, and when she pulled his tongue into her mouth and sucked it, he took what she gave him and allowed himself to be happy. “Nobody said you had to like it,” he said with a wide grin.

  “Oh! You!”

  “Still love me?” he asked her.
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  “Is that a serious question? If it is, I’ll let you know.”

  “You’re being fresh again. What do you say we take the bikes back and do a little sightseeing in town?”

  “I’d like that. I want to see the National Civil Rights Museum. Is it far from here?”

  “Not too far. It’s in the Lorraine Motel, where Dr. King was assassinated. There’s also the Underground Railroad Museum, the Alex Haley Museum and several other notable places. This town is rich in the history of African-Americans. And don’t forget Beale Street. The town fathers advertise that Memphis gave birth to the blues, but their reasons for appreciating it begin and end with tourism and the money it brings. At the Cotton Museum, you get the city’s history from blues to sharecropping to the city as it is today, and you know who played and sang the blues and suffered the sharecropping. It’s black history. Where shall we start?”

  “What do you suggest?”

  “Let’s start with the Underground Railroad Museum. That Civil Rights Museum is depressing.”

  They returned the bikes and helmets, then sat on the porch of the general store while eating the chocolate bars and drinking the coffee. He bought for Darlene a small carving of an eighteenth-century trapper as a souvenir of their outing, and they were soon on their way to her first real dose of Southern history. She wasn’t sure that she wanted to experience it, but she knew that if she did, she would be richer for it.

  “We don’t have half the guts that our forebears had. Imagine shivering in that secret cellar and going through that trapdoor not knowing what you’d find or who would find you,” she said when they were leaving Slave Haven Underground Railroad Museum. “The desire for freedom must have been one powerful drug.”

  “Sure it was. Many of them lived in hell. It’s too bad that our young people today don’t appreciate what our ancestors suffered in their fights for freedom. Let’s go home and change before we go to see Boyd. And none of your tricks, unless you don’t want to see Boyd.”

  “I don’t play tricks with you.”

  “Of course you don’t. And the Mississippi River runs through the middle of New York City.” He stopped for a red light, leaned over and kissed her. “But I wouldn’t exchange you for anything.” He turned into Beale Street and slowed down. “This is one of the most famous streets in the country. It comes alive at night.”