"Something like that," said Lou Anne, rising. "You keep reading while I get poor tired Kris something to eat, okay?"
"Okay!" said the boy. He turned to Kris again. "You want to listen too?"
"I'd like nothing better," said Kris, sitting down.
Lou Anne clocked in and put on her apron. She saw that Jessica was already seated. She often came in before her hospital shift, for what was, to her, breakfast. She went to Jessica's table first, with a fresh pot of coffee. Jessica watched her approach.
"What happened?" she asked, her eyebrows rising.
"What do you mean?" asked the waitress.
"You look different."
"I do?" Lou Anne looked down at her uniform, craning to look behind her.
"You look more relaxed or something," said Jess.
"Good day off, I guess," said Lou Anne, pouring a little fresh coffee into Jessica's cup.
"No, it's more than that. Come on ... what happened?"
"Why do you insist something happened?" asked Lou Anne. "I had a day off. I spent some time with Ambrose. It was wonderful."
"Hey Lulu!" called out Hank. "Kris was in here earlier. He said to tell you he's all motivated to write and he won't be in after work because he's going home to keep writing."
"Okay," said Lou Anne, her voice light.
Jessica watched, though, as Lou Anne just stopped moving and her eyes took on that appearance that tells people one's mind is far, far away.
In fact, Hank's mention of Kris had brought back a flood of images and memories into Lou Anne's mind. Kris had spent the whole day with Ambrose and her. He had acted like nothing had happened and it had driven her almost crazy. After Ambrose had read three stories, Kris had played catch with him in the living room, using a rolled up pair of socks. No one had ever done that before and Ambrose got frustrated that his hands didn't seem to work well at catching the "ball." Kris told him he just needed practice and kept tossing the improvised ball back and forth, until Ambrose quite suddenly figured it out and started catching it more often than it thumped off of his chest.
Then they had all gone outside to build a snowman, which hadn't worked out well, because the snow was too wet. The thermometer was hovering around thirty-nine degrees, and the first ball they made was so heavy that they had to leave it down by the street, instead of by the front porch where Ambrose wanted it. Kris made a big show of straining to lift the second ball on top of the first and fell on his back in the snow, groaning and panting after it was in place. He'd claimed he was too tired to keep going. Lou Anne had said he was worthless and helped Ambrose put the head on. The resulting snowman was misshapen and squat looking, leaning to one side.
The inevitable snowball fight had begun, when Kris said, "That's what your mommy is going to look like when she's old and gray."
That led to a retreat inside, as all of them were damp, and the preparation of hot chocolate. During that process, while Ambrose was drawing a picture of the snow "woman" they had just built, Kris walked by Lou Anne and ran his hand over her butt. It was the first thing he'd done that suggested he remembered the passion of the night before and it sent streaks of horny pleasure through the young mother.
"Nice ass," he said softly and left the room before she could respond.
It had gone on like that all day. He simply touched her ... sometimes on the elbow, or the back, and three more times his hand smoothed across her butt. Once, he leaned over and breathed on her neck, but that was all.
She'd put Ambrose down for a nap and her mind had whirled at the speed with which things happened.
Kris had simply picked her up over his shoulder and taken her to her bedroom, while she "resisted" by grabbing for HIS butt and slapping at it. When he'd dumped her on the bed and immediately crushed her under him, preventing her from saying anything with repeated kisses, all doubts in her mind had fled like smoke before the wind.
They were naked within minutes and coupling seconds after the last of their clothing fell to the floor.
This time, there was a surreal familiarity to their actions, as if they'd done this dozens of times instead of just once before. No words were needed to communicate the yearning each had for the other. They had spent the whole hour and a half making frantic love, before she pushed him away to get dressed and wake her son.
The afternoon had been much the same. He touched her, apologizing, saying, "Sorry ... I can't seem to keep my hands off you." Her smoky looks had told him how foolish he was for suggesting he should be able to control himself.
When Ambrose was "down for the night" and her own "bedtime" came, he took her in his arms and she moaned.
"I have to get some sleep," she whined. "But I don't want to."
"I know," he'd said. "Me too. We both have to go to work tonight."
"You have to leave," she'd moaned.
"I know," he'd said.
An hour later he'd left her limp and satisfied, his warmth soaking into her as she'd complained that he was leaving her alone.
"Lulu?"
Lou Anne blinked and looked down to see Jessica staring at her. She realized she was rubbing her legs together, remembering the wet feel when she'd gotten up. She'd overslept and hadn't had time to take a shower before work. She imagined she could still feel his slick spend between her thighs.
"You got laid!" said Jessica, her voice hushed and loud at the same time. Jess grinned. "That's
it!
You got
laid!
"
"Shut
up!
" growled Lou Anne. "They can hear you across the street!" She looked around. There were three other customers in the diner. None of them were looking at her. She peered at them, trying to figure out if they had heard Jess' exclamation. One was reading a paper, one was eating, and the other was staring out the window.
"Not fair!" said Jessica, folding her arms across her chest.
"Oh bullshit," said Lou Anne. "And who says I got laid?" she asked very softly. "You're imagining things."
"Oh, you got laid, all right," said Jessica, sounding grumpy. "It's obvious. And here I am, lonely and horny, with no prospects." She brightened. "Who was it? Come on, give! I'm your best friend."
"I'm not telling you anything until you quiet down!" snorted Lou Anne.
"Who was it?" whispered Jessica, so softly Lou Anne almost didn't hear her. She had leaned forward, but now sat bolt upright. "It was
Kris!
" she gasped.
"Would you
please
shut up?" moaned Lou Anne. "You want the whole world to know?"
"Wow," said Jessica softly. "I didn't see
that
one coming." She leaned back. "Sit down. I want to hear all about it!"
"I'm not going to give you the play by play, you horrible, nasty woman!" said Lou Anne.
"Oh yes you are!" snapped Jessica. "You owe me!"
"I don't owe you anything," laughed Lou Anne.
"What is it you don't owe her?" came a male voice. Both women jumped and looked to see Mitch Connel standing behind Lulu. Her body had hidden his arrival from Jessica's view.
Jessica looked triumphant. "Lulu got ...
awp! Damn, Lulu! That hurts!
" She looked down at the large brown stain on her nurse's uniform, from coffee that had hit her plate and splashed all over her front.
"I'm so sorry!" cooed Lulu. "Let me just get something to wipe that up. Mitch, let me get you a table that's clean. How 'bout that one over in the corner, over there? Good? Fine, follow me."
It might have worked, if it hadn't been about something so deliciously tantalizing to Jessica. But even though she'd now been on the receiving end of one of Lulu's "messages," she knew she had the upper hand, if she played her cards right. She followed Lulu, who was pushing a puzzled Mitch toward a table in the far corner, and simply sat down across from him.
"You can bring me a new plate, since you ruined mine," she said archly. "I'll just keep Mitch here company while you do that."
Lou Anne was still holding the pot of coffee and looked at it.
"Don't you dare!" warned Jessica, sounding nervous.
"You just mind your words," said Lulu softly. "I'll talk to
you
later."
"Fine!" said Jessica, smiling, as if nothing had happened.
"I can't
wait
to find out what this is all about," said the policeman.
"Well you're
going
to wait!" snapped Lulu.
Mitch looked at Jessica, his eyes sliding all over her front. For once Jessica seemed not to be bothered by the fact that he was ogling her.
"What she said," was her only comment.
Chapter Twenty-one
Kris sat looking at the tape machine that was playing the prerecorded set for the next four hour time slot at the radio station. Assuming the machine worked properly, he had nothing to do for an hour, until he'd break in and give a quick weather report.
He looked at what was on the screen in front of him. Quigley's actions with the Duchess of Fellborough were remarkably like Kris' first tryst with Lulu in some ways. He now thought of her as Lulu, but it was because she was a "loo loo" in bed. In the scene he'd just written, Quigley had sat on the duchess, who resisted him vociferously, telling him she'd rather die than submit to what she called his evil intentions. But she'd only been able to resist so long before she was just plain physically exhausted.
Quigley had taken great delight in watching her resistance become less violent. He hadn't really forced her to do anything, thus far. His hands had gone for the buttons of her bodice and she'd slapped them away. He'd squeezed her breasts in return, not viciously, but rather gently, and remarked on how soft, yet firm they were. He had kept doing that, just attempting to unbutton her dress and repeatedly stroking her breasts, until she now lay limply under him.
He lifted one knee and placed her hand under it, letting enough of his weight down to pin it to the Persian carpet on the deck of his cabin. That carpet was thick and lush, soft beyond imagining.
"No!" she whimpered.
He reached for her other hand and she winced as the hand already pinned took more of his weight.
"Sorry," he said softly, as he pinned her other hand.
"No you're not, you beast," she moaned.
"I
am
quite sorry that I'm causing you distress," he said, as his fingers went to the now undefended buttons of her dress. "I'm not at all sorry that I will at last be able to see the lovely orbs I know lie beneath this cloth."
"You're an animal," she snapped, some life coming back into her voice.
"Well then, when I take you, I shall take you from behind, as befits an animal," he said, grinning.
"You wouldn't!" she cried. "You mustn't debase me like this!"
"I'm not debasing you," he argued, spreading her dress apart as much as the thick cloth would allow. Her undergarment, he saw with a smile, had ties down the front. He pulled at one pink bow and she moaned. "I'm simply going to introduce you to something you've missed for far too long. You'll thank me later, I wager."
"Bastard!" she moaned as he undid another bow and spread the cloth of her chemise. The deep valley between her snow white breasts was revealed.
"To the contrary," said the buccaneer. "I know who both of my parents are and they are properly married."
"I am not!" she cried. "You will soil me. You have already soiled me!"
"Oh," said Quigley, leaning down to kiss the inside of one breast. "I haven't begun to soil you, my dear."
Kris read the rest of it ... the slow unveiling of the duchess' breasts, as she found energy to struggle again. Quigley had used this technique before, but Kris thought it would work again. Now, Quigley could use his hands on her wrists and continue baring her breasts with his teeth. When her surprisingly large ... and surprisingly firm ... nipples finally came into view, he used his lips and tongue on them until she sobbed with the frustration of finding that she could not resist enjoying what he was doing to her and lay unresisting again.
Kris decided that he would take the Duchess of Fellborough's awakening just as slowly as it seemed things had gone with Lulu. It would be slower, actually, because Kris wanted to see in the duchess' eyes the same eager acceptance of Quigley's final attentions he had seen in Lulu's eyes. He would never in all his life forget that look, as he saw permission to have what he had so suddenly and so desperately needed. He knew it had happened quickly, but it had still seemed to take ages. That was what he was trying to write now.