Death By The Riverside Part 36

We got into bed, lying close to each other on my small, single bed. She s.h.i.+vered and moved closer to me, pressing against me for warmth. I tentatively put my arms around her, not wanting to seem too insistent. She had only offered me this night; perhaps she only needed, or wanted, to make love once. I couldn't imagine ever wanting to stop touching her.

She wrapped her arms around me, burying one hand in my hair.

"d.a.m.n, Micky," she said. "Michele. Middle name?"

"You'll laugh," I answered.

"No, I won't."

"Antigone. The Greek influence, I guess."

"Michele Antigone Robedeaux," she whispered softly in my ear.

I almost started crying, but caught myself. The last person that had ever used my full name had been my dad. "Knight. It's Knight now," I said to get the memory of my father's voice out of my head.

"Shh, I know," she answered, stroking my cheek. She kissed me lightly. Then again. I responded, no longer caring if she knew how much I wanted this.

"Are we going to do this again?" she said with a slight laugh.

"Only to keep warm," I replied to keep her laughing, to hide my need.

"Good idea." She kissed me again.

I wanted to make love slowly, but my desire for her flared. My embrace tightened, one arm around her shoulders pus.h.i.+ng her b.r.e.a.s.t.s against mine, the other down around her waist, then her hips, pulling her to me. My hand moved to go between her legs. I stopped myself, my hand on her thigh.

"I'm sorry," I said, trying to slow myself down.

"Micky, for what?"

"Too fast, too rough. I'll..."

"No, you won't," she responded. She laughed, pulling me on top of her and wrapping her legs around me. "Come on," she said, still laughing. "Faster. Rougher." She guided my hand between her legs.

"Go in me." I did. "Oh, yes," she rewarded me. "Can you spread your legs enough for me to enter you?"

"Yes, I can."

Somehow she got her hand between our bodies and put a finger * 238 *

up in me. I gasped as she started moving in and out. I started losing my concentration because of what she was doing to me. I wasn't sure if I was still moving my fingers in her, or just lying still, letting her do me.

"Stop. Or at least slow down," I said. "I can't pay attention to what I'm doing."

"Let me go down on you."

"I'm about to come," I replied.

She took her fingers out.

"Not yet. I've still got some exploring to do."

"I'm not sure I can move."

"Then don't. I'll move. You can sit on my face."

I laughed. The thought delighted me. Because she wasn't just looking for a physical release, but she wanted to touch me, too. If only for a night. I rolled off her. If she hadn't caught me, I would've fallen off the edge of the bed.

"Thanks," I said.

"On your back. And spread your legs."

I did. She didn't have to stay down very long. I had closed my eyes for a moment, then opened them to look at her. Cordelia making love by candlelight, I thought as I watched her. Making love to me. The thought made me come.

I lay exhausted, holding her and kissing her wet face.

"I'll be down in a second. Let me catch my breath," I said.

"I can't wait," she said, emphasizing each word. She spread her legs over my thigh and started moving against me.

"Not yet," I said. "A hand, a tongue, let me."

"Just hold me. Hold me very tight," she said in short breaths.

I held her as she let out a long gasp, arched for a second, then pushed herself into me. I held her until her shudders subsided, until she lay still, until her breath resumed a soft, steady cadence.

"G.o.d, that's good," she said, smiling at me in the candlelight. "I think I could fall asleep right here on top of you."

"I don't think I would mind." I wouldn't mind if you stayed forever.

I wanted to hold on to Cordelia as best I could. In the morning I would have to let her go and wish her well.

"Thank you, Michele Antigone," she said as she slipped off me.

"You're most welcome, Cordelia. Cordelia?"

* 239 *

"Katherine. Pretty boring."

"Cordelia Katherine James," I said for the sound of it. "Pretty, not boring."

"Good night, Micky."

"Good night."

I blew out the candle. She propped herself up on one elbow and looked at me.

"I haven't used you too badly, have I?" she asked, a dim shadow in the darkness.

"No more than I deserve," I answered. Since that wasn't satisfactory, I continued, "No, you haven't. It was my choice."

"All right. I hope that's the truth."

"It is," I a.s.sured her. It was close enough.

I put my head on her shoulder and we fell asleep that way.

* 240 *

CHAPTER 22.

When I woke up, bright sunlight was streaming into the room and I was alone in my bed.

I looked around the room. Cordelia was standing next to a window, looking out. I watched her, the play of the clear rays of suns.h.i.+ne on her body. A bright patch on one breast, the other in shadow. One thigh was in the light, her dark pubic hair made even darker by the shade, making it seem both hidden and exposed, an enticing combination. I watched her, knowing that soon she would be leaving.

"Good morning," she said, catching sight of me.

"Good morning," I replied. "Cordelia by morning. You are a sight to wake up to."

"Good, bad, or indifferent?" she questioned, with a self-deprecating laugh.

"Wondrous."

She turned to face me, the sunlight falling on her shoulder, catching the peak of her breast.

"You're a very kind person, Micky," she said, s.h.i.+fting back to face the sun.

I swung my legs off the bed and stood up. Cordelia was still looking out the window. Suddenly she shuddered and then hugged herself, as if she were cold.

"No," she said, looking at me. "I've seen too many young women in emergency rooms. You were one of them. Next time you might not walk out."

"I'm doing my best to stay out of hospitals."

* 241 *

"Any guarantee?"

"No," I answered, because there were none.

"I've got to get going," she said, turning away from the sunlight.

"Not yet. Half an hour more," I asked, going over to her. I stood very close to her, almost touching.

She nodded and smiled. "Or forty-five minutes," she agreed.

I put my arms around her, holding her in the sunlight. We kissed softly, morning kisses.

We made love again. This time we did it slowly, gently, as if savoring the last strawberries of the season.

When we finished, we lay next to each other for a long time, embracing in the radiance of dawn.

I was glad we made love by the light of day. I wanted the possibilities of the morning, not to have our touching confined by the dark boundaries of night. I wanted the sight of her caught in our morning embrace etched in my memory long after she was gone.

The sun reached for us where we lay on the bed, catching an auburn strand of Cordelia's hair, polis.h.i.+ng it a rich umber. I knew it was time to go. Time for me to let her go and wish her well. I s.h.i.+fted, breaking the line of the suns.h.i.+ne.

"Reality awaits, dear Doctor," I said.

She laughed. Her eyes glinted blue, like a deep clear lake with the bright sun reflected off its gentle waters.

"Reality's here, too," she answered. She kissed me one more time.

We got up, went into the living room, and put on the clothes we had discarded last night.

"Let's go," I said, not wanting to prolong the ache that was starting to build up inside me.

She nodded.

We left, making good time back to the city in the light traffic of late morning. All too soon she was pulling in front of my apartment.

"End of the road," I said, striving for a ba.n.a.l cliche and picking the wrong one.

"Don't say that. We'll still see each other. Too many friends in common."

"Do I get an invitation to the wedding?"

"Do you want one?"

"No," I answered honestly. "I think not."

* 242 *

"I'm sorry," she said.

"Why? I have nothing to wear. That's the real reason."

"I'm sorry," she began again. "I seem to have entangled you in my emotional mess. And I think I've been unfair to you."

"You made your choice. I made mine. Let's stop apologizing for the way things are," I replied brusquely. I remembered to grab my jacket from the back seat where I had left it to dry, then got my duffel bag and opened the door.

"Goodbye, Micky. Take care of yourself."