Fierce (31 page)

I rolled away from Hope at last, disposed of the condom, then untied her ankles with hands that were actually shaking before moving around the bed and unfastening her wrists.

She was still shuddering as if she couldn’t stop, her face buried in the mattress, and I felt a twinge of alarm that overrode the lingering, bone-deep satisfaction from one of the strongest orgasms of my life. Had I hurt her after all? Not given her enough chance to say no? When she’d begun to climax so fiercely, so continuously, all I’d wanted was to make her do it again and again, and then to feel what it would be like to be inside her when she was that far gone. Had I checked in with her enough, though? I couldn’t even remember.

I pulled out the wedge that had been holding her up for me, lay down beside her, and pulled her into my arms. “Hope. Talk to me.”

“Uh...” She was still shuddering. “Can’t...stop.”

“Baby.” I smoothed my hand over her hair, down her back. “All right?”

“Y-yes.” The shudders had turned to shivers now, to my relief. “Keep...holding me.” 

“Too much?” 

“Yes.
Too...amazing. Th-thank you.”

“No.” I kissed her closed eyelids, stroked her hair some more, and breathed out a sigh of relief. “Thank
you.
You’re the amazing one. I nearly had a heart attack.”

She opened her eyes at that. One of her hands came up to touch my chest and run over my shoulder, down my arm, because she seemed to need to touch me, too. “You did?” 

“Oh, yeh. I did.”

When I levered myself up, she tightened her grip on me and said, “Don’t go.”

I bent to kiss her cheek. “Nah. Just going to get a warm towel, clean you up.”

“Then will you hold me some more?”

“Yeh,” I said. “I will. I’ll hold you all night.” 

Except that I couldn’t, of course. I lay with her for a bit, stroked her some more, and within minutes, she was asleep. Knackered, not that I could blame her. I’d never seen a woman respond like that. 

Finally, she stirred and said drowsily, “A shower would be good. Before I go.”

“Mm,” I said. “Another bath, maybe. I’ll wash you, eh.”

“No...no more. ” She sat up, groaning a little, and ran a hand through her disheveled hair. “Nothing else. Please.”

I had to smile at that. “Sweetheart. I know.”

I lasted through another movie night, the promise of another Saturday-night date, telling myself that this was fine, this was the way I liked it. Limited. No expectations. And then, on the way home from another bout of washing-up, I was ringing Eugene.

“What?” he asked without saying hello. “Too late to be calling me, man. You canceling on me again? You need your ass kicked good. Gettin’ fat and lazy.”

“Nah,” I said impatiently. “Tomorrow night’s on. This is something else. Debra around?”

“Yeah, right here. What, you takin’ that girl away again? Man, you got it
bad.”

I sighed. “I need a chat, that’s all. Put her on.”

I did my best to keep it businesslike once Debra took the phone. “I need an opinion,” I said. 

“Uh-
huh.
” She sounded exactly like Eugene, making me wonder how much of a topic I’d been. Not a comforting thought.

“Ideas,” I plowed on. “About Hope. And Karen. I’m...” I cleared my throat. “Spending some time with Hope, but I think I need to include Karen as well if I want any more of it. And I don’t have much clue about what a fifteen-year-old girl would want to do. She wasn’t too keen on the rose garden. I’d think shopping, but she didn’t seem like much of a shopper, and Hope’s got a bit of a thing about—”

“About not wanting to get bought,” Debra finished. “Yeah. Hm. Give me a sec here. Museum, maybe.”

“Again,” I said, “maybe not, eh. Hope loves art. Karen—I’m thinking not so much.”

“Not that kind of museum. Science museum, something like that. Or take ‘em out to a Broadway show. Some big musical, hot ticket. They choose which one, and you make it happen. Spoil ‘em both a little. That’d work. Women don’t want to get bought, but they sure do like to get spoiled.”

“A science museum wouldn’t be too bad,” I conceded. “But a Broadway show? Not my idea of a good time.”

“Seems to me we had this talk. It ain’t about what
you
want.”

“Right,” I said glumly. “Cheers.”

The next voice I heard was Eugene’s. “Hang on a sec,” he said. “Let me get out my calendar and a big ol’ red pen so I can put a circle around this day. Yep, this is what we call a red-letter day.”

 “Rack off,” I said. “See you at seven tomorrow night.” 

I rang off and wondered what had happened to my life. One minute, I’d been in control. The next, I was spending my evenings with Hope and Karen in their flannel pajamas, doing the washing-up, and contemplating the prospect of
The Lion King
. It wasn’t a pretty picture.

Another couple weeks had passed, and I’d had as much as I could take of one night a week holding Hope’s hand on the couch, a family-friendly outing with Karen, and one additional evening during which Hope and I did our best to slake a week’s worth of sexual frustration in a few hours.

No matter how persuasive my arguments, though, she refused to come to my office during the workday, or even to meet me on the roof. It wasn’t nearly enough, and I knew I should find somebody else. I’d break it off with her first, because I wasn’t that much of a bastard, but the last thing I needed was an unavailable woman. If her attitude didn’t change soon, I decided again on every night that I wanted her with me and she wasn’t there, I’d end it. And then, every time I was with her, I found myself giving her one more chance. 

After our third movie night, though, when I was helping her with the washing-up, she said, “So. This weekend.”

“Yeh,” I said. “I meant to talk to you about that as well. I’d like to take you out tomorrow night, as I can’t do Saturday. Even if that means we get Debra over here again to be with Karen.”

This time, I told myself, I meant it. If she said no to
this,
she was just playing games.  

She glanced toward the bedroom door. Closed. Karen had seemed tired tonight, had fallen asleep during the movie and gone to bed straight away afterwards, and the apartment was quiet.

“Oh,” Hope said. “You can’t? Never mind, then.”

“Wait. What?” I’d missed something. “What were you going to say?”

“It doesn’t matter.” She kept her head bent, her gaze on the plate she was scrubbing. “Just that Karen’s made a friend at school, and there’s a dance Friday night, so they were planning to spend the weekend together. At the friend’s, I mean. So I’d thought I could spend the night. If you wanted. But I’m sorry.” She looked at me at last, unsmiling, her gaze steady, and I had the unwelcome feeling that she’d known exactly what had been on my mind. “I can’t do tomorrow night. This weekend—It’s kind of a big deal for Karen. Her first good friend at school, her first dance, and the night before...she’ll be picking out clothes and things. She’ll be nervous, because the friend has money, you know, and we—well. Karen says she doesn’t care, but I know she does. So I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

“Hope. Wait.” The relief was there, out of all proportion to the importance of my sex life. “Then that’ll work.” 

“What
will work?” 

“I’ve got an unexpected meeting on Friday afternoon in San Francisco. Things heating up on a deal. With those two women you...ah...didn’t meet the other week.”

“During our respective non-dates.” She was washing up again, but her shoulders had relaxed a little.

“Those would be the ones. And probably a bit more wrap-up on Saturday, I’m thinking, so I wouldn’t have been back in time to take you out. But if Karen’s sorted, you can come with me, and we’ll get our night. Because yeh, I
do
want it. In fact, you can fly out Friday morning with me, and we can have two nights.” 

It didn’t work out quite like that, of course, because she refused to allow me to tell Martine she was required on the journey, or to fly out on the jet with the rest of the team. 

“This is my
job,”
she said. “If you tell Martine that, she’ll know, and everybody else will know, too. And then, later...she’ll fire me. I know she will.”

She didn’t have to tell me what
later
meant, and I didn’t tell her that Martine wouldn’t be sacking her, because I wouldn’t be allowing it. 

“Right, then,” I said instead. “Martine will be getting a request for your help on Friday afternoon from...from somebody, and you can come out then. We’ll fly back together on Sunday. Commercial,” I added when her mouth opened again. “I’ll send the others back on the jet on Friday night. They’ll be rapt about that. Happy?” 

She finally took her hands out of the sink, dried them on a kitchen towel, and turned to me. “Yes. Of course I am.” She laughed, sounding as relieved as I felt, and as always, I got that feeling her laugh always aroused in me, of the sun coming out after a storm. “You’re going to take me to San Francisco, and we get to spend the weekend together? Of course I’m happy.”

“Got a funny way of showing it, don’t you,” I muttered, but she didn’t pay that any attention. She’d stepped straight into my arms, arms that went around her as if they had a mind of their own, and I was lifting her to be kissed. One of her soft little hands was around my head, pulling me into her, the other was stroking over my nape, and I was so relieved, and pretty bloody happy myself. And, in not too much time at all, more than that.

I’d sat there all evening with her, pretending to watch that movie with Karen sitting on her other side, but I hadn’t seen a thing. I’d only felt the fire burning a little hotter with every brush of my hand over the delicate skin of her forearm, there on the underside where she was so sensitive. I’d only felt the shivers she was trying to hide, the breath she was trying to regulate, as if they’d been coming from my own body. I’d been fifteen again, trying to get somewhere on some girl’s parents’ couch, except that it was even worse, because I knew exactly what Hope and I should have been doing.

And now, she was letting
me
know what I had to look forward to. Making those urgent little noises into my mouth that set me on fire every time. Letting me hold her the way I’d wanted to all night, her sweet body pressed tight against mine, one of my hands around her head, holding it still for me, the other reaching around to lift her off her toes. 

I wanted to carry her back to that couch, strip those Wonder Woman PJs off her, plunge straight into her, and show her she was mine. I knew how she’d gasp when I did it, how tight and hot she’d be around me, how I’d have to put my hand over her mouth again to keep her quiet, and how much she’d love it. I knew exactly how it should be, and I needed to do it, and I knew I couldn’t.

She pulled back first. Of course she did. 

“Whoa,” she breathed, leaning back in my arms. “I just wanted to say...yes.”

“I think you did,” I said. “Think you said just exactly that. And as it was exactly what I wanted to hear, I’m happy. Though I’d be happier to be inside you right now. So you know.”

I knew her little smile would be peeping out, even though I couldn’t see it, not with her pressed up close to me again. “So does this mean we get to be tourists? I don’t have to pretend to be sophisticated? Will you take me across the Golden Gate Bridge?”

I had to smile myself at that. “Yeh. I’ll come up with a plan for your next big adventure. How’s that?”

“Mm.” She had her face against my shoulder now, was rubbing her cheek into my T-shirt like a kitten, and my hand was still tangled up in her soft hair. “You do that. I like your plans.” 

So that was another week when I didn’t break it off with her. But then, that was because she’d seen it my way.