A 3rd Time to Die

by George A Bernstein

  She was doing more horseback riding, wanting to improve her jumping, and Papa hired a trainer.

  She stepped back, dropping the currycomb, her fingers pressed against her lips.

  Jeez, that’s when this started! The sense of riding through woods, and whispered thoughts in French. Nothing as intense as now. Why did the fantasy only haunt her when jumping a horse?

  Shrugging, she retrieved her brush, continuing to comb Injun’s coat, a smile tickling her lips. She’d felt comfortable with Allen, a steady ship who’d stand firm against any waves of adversity. Was that part of her problem? Character, integrity, honesty… things all girls sought (and all apparently missing in Keith)… had no magic for her.

  How shallow! But, Allen lacked the aura of destiny that still cloaked that hateful bastard… the guy who tried to rape her.

  How could she long for him, after that?

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Keith slipped through the etched glass doors into the aerobics room, surprised at how many men, clad in shorts and tank tops, milled around the floor.

  Working his way toward the mirrored front wall, he noticed only a few women, mostly young and fit looking. Probably not there for the same reasons as the guys. None among them fit Nicole's description.

  "Aha. New blood to liven our afternoon."

  The liquid melody of the voice fired delicious tremors down his spine. He turned, unconsciously holding his breath. It escaped in a quiet sigh as he saw her.

  Nicole Phillips, an incredible 5'10" Amazon, blue-nailed fingers nestling on curvaceous hips, smiling mischievously. Despite the overheard ravings, he was totally unprepared for the beauty in front of him. Midnight black hair poured around an alabaster face, caressing the high cheekbones before tumbling over broad shoulders, ending a third of the way down her back.

  Sheathed in a ruby, skin-tight leotard, décolleté and cut high at the thighs, the outfit emphasized a tiny waist and firm breasts, accenting two long, muscled, yet feminine legs. Almond-shaped emerald eyes, snuggled below lustrous arched eyebrows, regarded him merrily.

  "Well, a new guy, here for my class." Her wide pink, full-lipped mouth was a sirens call. He struggled to reclaim his voice.

  "Yeah. Your class. That's why I'm here." God, he sounded like an idiot!

  "Good. Always room for one more. What's your name?"

  "Easton. Keith Easton." He took a breath, back in control except for the cacophony of his heart.

  "You done this before, Keith? You look pretty fit, but I can take it easy today, if you’re a first-timer."

  "No, I'm used to a good workout." He was a jock and played racquet ball twice a week. How hard could it be?

  "I was at another gym,” he lied. “My favorite instructor moved to California, and no one else ran a good class. I heard North Loop was good, with more racquetball courts, so I decided to give it a try."

  "Great. I play racquetball, too. Maybe we’ll have a game sometime, but be warned, I'm pretty good.”

  He grinned, not knowing what to say. She spun on the ball of one foot, quickly surveying the room.

  "Time to get going. Everyone find a spot. Here we go." She hit a button on her tape player, filling the room with the beat of a popular hit song.

  "We'll begin by warming up and stretching." She faced the mirror, calling out cadence.

  Keith watched, spellbound, as she moved from one routine to the next. She was a consummate professional, observing the class in the mirror, encouraging or correcting people as they progressed.

  What did he expect, a dumb bimbo? She was the most exciting woman he’d ever seen, understanding April’s resignation to second billing. Ashley, while striking, never looked like this, even at her best.

  His eyes feasted on the lithe, athletic grace of the dark-haired beauty. He had to have her… knew he was destined to have her.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Ashley circled the big red horse’s smoothly muscled neck with her arms, laying her head against the silkiness of his flowing mane. He nickered, nuzzling her thigh. She sighed, still struggling to understand life. Had she done something to drive a wedge between them?

  Memories of that last picnic with Allen reeled through her mind…

  She had discovered a secluded little meadow while horseback riding at the Skokie Lagoons. It was shaded by old oaks and maples, hidden, set well back from the path.

  Irresistibly drawn to this out-of-the-way place, it reminded her of that magical glade she visualized whenever she made out with Keith.

  Everything was perfectly arranged, just like before.

  Before? She lifted her head. I’d never picnicked in a place like that, so why was it so familiar? My favorite little fantasy? Maybe.

  She was so hyper, spreading the Navajo blanket just so, and arranging their sandwiches and iced-tea perfectly. She even smuggled out a bottle of white wine and two long-stemmed glasses. Everything had to be just right, this time.

  This time? She hadn’t really thought about it then, but it was as if she were on a mission. This time? But that was their first picnic.

  It was also her first experience with The Terror.

  Their bodies intertwined, kissing, slowly descending into delicious arousal, for the first time she allowed him to roam below the waist. He drew her to him, his hardness pressed against damp panties, her body resonating, opening like petals of a flower.

  Wonderfully afire, Ashley didn't resist as he tentatively expose one lovely breast, his tongue working a sensual little dance around her fully erect nipple. She moaned softly, searching for her vision—the place that always came to her in moments like this.

  But this place was the fantasy. Had she known it all along? She was lost in the wonderful delirium of arousal.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Keith sagged against the wall, clutching a ballet bar, struggling for breath, his trembling legs barely supporting him. He managed to keep up for the entire hour, mostly through sheer willpower and an ego unwilling to let Nicole see him falter. He was no longer able to disguise his exhaustion at the end, but didn't care anymore.

  He watched patiently, panting softly, waiting for his strength to return, while she talked to several male members from her group.

  "You run a Hell of a class, lady," he wheezed, when she turned, raising one inky eyebrow at his haggard-looking condition.

  "Thanks. Hope this wasn't too rough on you. I normally run a more rigorous routine, but usually ease up for new members until I see what they got. You sure you've done this before?" Her green eyes twinkled laughingly at him.

  "Oh, yeah." How could anything be any tougher than this? "I've just laid off for a few weeks, looking for another gym. I heard you were good," he surveyed her slowly, "but they were wrong."

  Obsidian eyebrows arched, wrinkling the smooth skin of her forehead, but he plunged on before she could speak. "You're better than good. You're terrific!"

  "Why thank you, kind sir." She laughed and made a little bow, openly displaying her considerable cleavage. Despite his exhaustion, he developed a terrific hard-on… not something easily hidden in tight workout shorts. She probably noticed, but he didn't care. She was certainly used to being lusted over. He screwed up his courage, and charged on.

  "Since you're done for the evening, can a new student be impudent enough to invite you for a cup of coffee or a drink?"

  "Sorry. I'm busy tonight. I am run two more classes tomorrow. Why don't you join us?" She smiled coyly. "I may be free afterwards."

  I'll be lucky if I can walk tomorrow. He shouldn’t seem too eager, and there was no actual promise she'd go out with him.

  "Nope. Can't make it tomorrow. Busy. Maybe on Wednesday."

  "No, that's my day off. My next class is Thursday, but Shelly Quintana runs a great class on Wednesday, if that's more convenient for you."

  "Thursday is probably better for me." That would give him an extra day to recover, and he was going to need it.

  "I really want to get back in shape after this
little lay-off I've had."

  While he was impatient to see her again, it would be a tactical error to come tomorrow, even if he were able. He was going to be very sore and stiff, and he wanted to play it slowly and keep her guessing.

  This gal was used to men falling all over themselves around her. He would have to seem different, if he were to have any chance.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Ashley shivered, casting away the memory of that picnic, turning to Injun, caressing his neck. Gathering her currying tools, she returned them to the stall’s pine tack box.

  That was the first time. Allen got a lot farther with respect and tenderness than Keith ever had with arrogance and force. I was hovering on the very brink of ecstasy, and then there it was… The Terror...

  She remembered gasping for breath, her eyes suddenly wide, her head snapping from side to side, frantically searching the near-by woods. Something had changed. Slashed by a sudden sword of fear, her erotic rollercoaster evaporated. She had struggled to sit up.

  Something was in the woods. A monstrous apparition swam in her head… a horned creature rushing from the trees, a fearsome beak and deadly weapon, hacking them to pieces with animal ferocity.

  "Mon Dieu," she had wailed, leaping to her feet. "Non! Non encore! Not again!"

  A sudden noise in the near-by underbrush, a screech and loud thrashing catapulted her into action.

  She chuckled mirthlessly, visualizing herself, shoes in hand, racing away as if her life depended on it.

  Terrified, thinking in French again. I guess that was the beginning of The Terror. Why does it only come whenever I’m intimate? Because Keith tried to rape me?

  No! It’s something else. I can sense it. What’s the matter with me, that I’m so petrified when making love?

  Can’t have been easy for Keith, especially as much as he craves sex, but I’ve never denied him. Somehow, I always managed to fight through The Terror.

  “Life’s not supposed to be so complicated,” she muttered.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Ashley blinked, jerking reflexively at the gentle head-butt Injun delivered, snatching her away from memories.

  Gotta stop obsessing. Rehashing the past won’t help. Keith’s going through a bad time at work, and I’ve gotta be more patient with him.

  The big sorrel nudged her, nipping at her pocket. She laughed.

  “You know just how to my change mood, don’t you?” She stroked his snout. “Didn’t you get a carrot?” He curled his lips, nickering.

  “Okay, here’s the last one.” She dug out another orange treat, and it was gone in seconds. He rubbed his muzzle against her cheek.

  “I love you too, buddy, but I’d better get going. The kids are probably home from school, and hopefully, Keith will make it for dinner tonight for a change.” She wrapped her arms around the big red gelding’s neck, lingering there, savoring his warmth while he nuzzled her.

  A plaintiff sigh, and she wandered reluctantly from the barn, visiting a horse here, glancing at a riding magazine there, then talking to a stable hand about Injun’s feed schedule. Anything to delay departure for home, where she found love and comfort with her children… and empty solitude from her more and more distant husband.

  She shrugged.

  Nothing to be gained by more procrastination.

  There must be some way to reconnect with Keith. Maybe he’ll go to the horse season’s opening Gala next week. Get away from the kids and business. We haven’t gone to a dance in years.

  She had to try something before the rift became uncrossable.

  That familiar-looking, dark face, smiling whimsically, seeped across her mind.

  Wonder if he’ll be there, too?

  She barked a short, humorless laugh, and strode toward the gravel parking lot.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Nicole chuckled as she watched Keith leave the aerobics gym for the locker room. The substantial bulge in his shorts confirmed that while he might not be in the best shape, little Dickey was certainly not having any trouble standing up.

  Surprisingly, her heart was doing the hula, and there was a definite wet tingling between her legs. Keith Easton held a rare and mysterious attraction for her. He was athletic, sexy, and clearly hot for her, like every other guy. Might he be Mr. Right? Finally, a big bucks stud, ready for a long-term liaison with a sensuous gal who knew exactly how to make him happy?

  She had searched for that perfect guy for years, discarding several candidates along the way, mostly older, who had only filled her financial needs. How special if the handsome Mr. Easton were it, someone who might actually excite her while she was driving him wild.

  A strange premonition assaulted her. Something other than luck had brought them together. She was filled with eager anticipation.

  That evening she looked at his membership application as she listened to April chatter happily about what a sweet gentleman Easton was. That the lovely blonde was taken with him, as apparently he was with her was no real surprise. Nicole was one of the few women on Earth who could out-shine April.

  His come-on to the blonde verified what Nicole had guessed: Keith Easton was actively on the prowl. If she didn't snare him, April might, and he'd be damned lucky to have her.

  Nicole knew April had been divorced for two years, continuing to wear the gold band to keep unwelcome suitors away. It sounded like Keith Easton had already graduated out of that group… married or not.

  Under the disapproving stare of the blue-eyed blonde, Nicole photocopied Easton’s application before leaving for home. A quick call that evening to one of her admirers at a downtown P.R. firm, and she discovered he was Vice-president of Operations at his family business, a medium size manufacturer of small appliances.

  He was married to the daughter of one of Chicago's wealthiest families, whose early and very violent deaths had left huge trusts for their only daughter and her children. Besides his own wealth, Keith had access to all the income from those trusts, reputed to be several hundred thousand dollars a year.

  Finally, the brass ring she’d been patiently seeking. She wasn’t about to let it slip away.

  All the more exciting if she played him slowly, like a big bass on a very light line. Her Pop had taught her to fish, and catching a man was very little different.

  All you needed was the right bait, properly presented… and patience.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Ashley smiled as she pulled her silver Lexus SUV into the circular ocher brick drive of their sprawling ranch house, nestled on a prime half-acre lot in western Winnetka. She loved the warmth of the broken stone façade and black slate entry. The double, eight-foot paneled Brazilian cherry doors were the perfect accent.

  Entering from the garage, she was met by a flurry of arms and legs, as her two children swarmed over her.

  “Mommy, look what I made you in school.” Four-year-old Beth pressed a crayon drawing into her hand. Ricky stood by, grinning.

  “Let’s see what you drew, sweetie. Oh, is that mommy?”

  “Yes.” She beamed, puffing out her chest. “That’s you, riding Injun. See, you’re gonna jump over that wall. Do you like it?”

  “I love it, Beth. I’m going to hang it right on the fridge, where I can look at it every day.”

  “That’s really pretty, sis,” Ricky said. “When I was in pre-K, most kids could only draw stick figures.” He hugged his little sister. Ashley took them in her arms, planting kisses on their heads.

  This is love. Why is it so difficult for Keith? She ruffled Ricky’s fiery red hair.

  “And how was your day? Anything exciting in First Grade?”

  “We got a new book,” holding it up for her to see. These kids are doing so many things earlier than she did at their age.

  “Can I read it to you?” he asked.

  “Of course. Let’s get comfortable in the den.” Settling on the beige leather sofa, her arm around him, snuggling close, he opening his book. Beth stretched out, her blo
nde head in her mom’s lap.

  “I like Injun’s small on you, Mommy. When can I learn to ride?”

  “Soon, sweetie. You can both come to the stable in the summer.”

  Why wasn’t Keith there to share her pleasure in seeing their children grow and mature. She shook her head, banishing doubts and irritations. It’s her time to enjoy, even if she did it alone.

  A smile bloomed as Ricky began reading a Twenty-First Century version of See Jane Run. He’d really gotten quite good.

  She checked her watch. Five-Ten.

  Dinner is at Six-Thirty. Keith promised to be there.

  That’d be a nice change.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Another promise broken.

  Ashley sat alone at the Gold granite-top bar in the den, nursing her second glass of Chilean Merlot. What was so important at work to keep him so late, three or four nights a week? Was something else going on? That doesn’t make sense. He has everything any guy should want right here. She never denied him anything. Could he…

  She stirred at the sound of the garage door opening. Home at last. She rose to meet him at the door.

  “Hi, babe.” He pecked her on the cheek, setting his briefcase on the kitchen table.

  “It’s Nine-Thirty.”

  “You didn’t wait dinner, did you?”

  “Keith!”

  “I know it’s late, but I got tied up at the office.”

  “Oh, come on. What’s going on? I can’t believe…”

  “Listen, there’s nothing going on but work. The team’s in trouble, and I’m trying to find a game plan top fix it. The evening is the only quiet time I get. It’s already late in the fourth quarter. I can’t just let a three generation business go down without a fight, can I?”