The Fifth Stage Part 28

"I missed it." She snuggles down into the cus.h.i.+ons. "I took a very long shower after we got back. Horseback riding makes me feel nasty."

"Are you?"

"What?"

"Nasty." Amazing how a big gla.s.s of wine can embolden me.

"I did need some help scrubbing my back. Know anyone who might be interested?" With a wicked grin, she puts her hand back on my thigh, this time much closer to my groin. Despite the period discomfort, I ache for her.

"Maybe." I slide closer and finger her ribs. "Are you ticklish?"

Rebecca flinches and curls against me. "My ticklish spots are for me to know and for you to find out."

"Is that an invitation?"

"I've tried to fix the problems we ran into last time." She nods toward the coffee table. "See, we've opened the wine and I've taken my shoes off. Is that better?"

I laugh and hug her. She's making this way too easy, way too much fun, but if I touch her tonight, tomorrow will be one h.e.l.l of a morning 183 after. Am I ready to deal with the consequences, face the depression and guilt? And what about Rebecca? Is it right to subject her to my neurosis?

That's always been my problem, worrying what might come, wondering if I'm prepared. Didn't Lora always tell me to live more for today, to stop wasting the time I have worrying about what may never happen? Have I learned nothing?

Forget tomorrow, I think, guiding Rebecca's lips to mine. I'm starving for her. Our tongues wrestle, wild and wet. My hands move on their own, and I make no effort to stop them. I'm touching her face, her hair, but as I trace my index finger toward her cleavage, I pause. "Do you want..."

Her reply is low and throaty. "Just don't start something you aren't prepared to finish."

I withdraw my hand and cool down a couple of degrees. Time for truth. "I've got this little problem. I started my period and was hoping we could work around it. You know, stay in the safe zones."

A flash of disappointment registers in her expression but is replaced by a smile. "All my zones are safe."

Sweat pops out on my forehead. Is this really going to happen? Am I going to give in and let my s.e.x take over? If the look in Rebecca's eyes is any indication, the answer is a resounding yes.

She takes my hand and guides it back to her chest. "All we need is a little patience and a lot of trust. I trust you to respect my body. Do you trust me?"

I nod as I fumble with her top b.u.t.ton and stammer, "I... I'm not sure... I haven't done this in a while."

"Shhh, don't worry. We can figure it out together." She helps me unb.u.t.ton her blouse and slip it off her shoulders. I trail my fingertips along her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, stopping at her bra's front fastener. Her bra comes off easily and falls to our feet.

"Everything okay?" she asks.

I nod.

Silently, she tugs my sweater over my head and before I realize it, she's reaching behind my back. "Can I take this off?"

I nod again, and as she unhooks my bra, I slip the straps off my shoulders. Rebecca leans in as if to tell me a secret, but instead nibbles at my earlobe. Her hot breath sends me into orbit as she kisses her way down my neck, all the while pressing her body against mine.

Despite my cramping muscles, I'm excited. It's been forever since anyone touched me this way, and I was beginning to wonder if it would feel as good as it used to. It does.

184.

She pulls away. "Want me to stop?"

"No."

I'm mesmerized by her eyes. She moves in again, kisses my throat, eases toward my b.r.e.a.s.t.s, her pretty pink tongue slithering along my skin. My insides squirm.

She says, "You have a beautiful body."

Rebecca's the one who's beautiful, sitting there with her rounded, sensual b.r.e.a.s.t.s begging to be kissed. I'm not embarra.s.sed, but I flush.

She leans in and touches her cheek to mine, and we kiss again, heat rising between us. As I cup her breast in my hand, she presses her hips against my thigh.

I should suggest we go to the bedroom, but it might be a mood- breaker and she seems okay with staying here. Besides, taking her to my lover's bed might be a bit much for me right now.

Rebecca sighs. "I can't believe we're doing this."

"What do you want?" I whisper.

"I want what you want." She pulls my hand to her lips and kisses my palm, then guides it along her body. She moves my fingers across her cheek, along the valley between her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, past her flat stomach, and stops at the top b.u.t.ton of her jeans.

Her voice is erotic, teasing. "Tell me what you want, Claire."

Our faces touch, our eyes millimeters apart, unblinking. I slide my hand between her thighs. The denim is warm, and when she moves against me, I can almost feel her excitement through the heavy material.

Rebecca unb.u.t.tons her fly, and I help her slip out of her jeans. I'm almost there, only a thin layer of silk between me and her luxurious flesh. I hook my fingers around the waistband of her panties and tug them down over her hips. There she isRebecca Greenway, the star of my nighttime fantasies, the lead in my daydreams, the object of my l.u.s.t.

For a moment, I can only stare. She's stunning, but a shred of fear lingers. What if I disappoint her?

She murmurs into my ear, but the words aren't important. It's the intensity of her voice, the heat of her breath, spurring me on. My hands rove her body, lingering on her stomach, then on her firm thighs, and back to her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

I tamp out that last spark of doubt and slide my hand between her legs. Rebecca isn't pretendingshe's as excited as I am. Feeling her pa.s.sion, touching her as a lover, my pent-up l.u.s.t surges and escapes me in a gasp. "My G.o.d, you feel good."

She breathes hard into my ear. "Are you still okay?"

Unable to find my voice, I nod.

185.

"I like the way you touch me." She cups my b.r.e.a.s.t.s with her hands.

"I like the way you feel."

I'm past the point of thinking. Instinct guides me as I explore her, finding the places that bring her to life, the private s.p.a.ces that she wants to share with me. That same instinct tells me it's time to move on. As I move inside her, she wraps her arms around me and shudders.

I hold her close with my free arm. "Okay?"

"Oh, yeah."

We move in slow rhythm, relis.h.i.+ng the new, but familiar sensation of touching and being touched. In this dance, she's the leader and I'm a puppet surrendering to her pleasure.

Her voice is low and throaty. "Look at me."

I open my eyes and meet her stare. She seems so relaxed, as if we've done this a hundred times and will do it a hundred more. Rebecca closes her eyes. As we continue moving together, her expression changes, softens even more as she clenches around me. Her breath tickles my ear. "Wait."

I freeze. "What's wrong?"

She puts her hand on mine, holding me steady. "I don't want to come yet."

We are still, joined for the first time, drinking each sensation. I inhale her scent, study the curve of her cheek and the way her hair falls into her eyes. I record every subtle gasp, every husky moan.

"I'm sorry," she says, "but I can't stay still." Her hips begin to move against me.

"I want to please you." I press my cheek against hers, and we move faster until she arches against me. Her nails scratch my shoulder as she goes breathless. It seems to last forever, muscles tense, lungs heaving.

She collapses into my embrace, clinging to me as I ease my hand away.

We don't talk for a long while. She kisses my lips, my face, my neck. Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s press against mine, torturing me with thoughts of what we might be doing if I hadn't gotten my d.a.m.n period. I want her to touch me so much it hurts, but I can't let her. Not right now.

"Sorry that was so fast," she finally says. "I guess... well it's been awhile, and I've wanted you..."

I press my finger against her lips, and her s.e.xy sweet smell drifts into me. "You've got nothing to be sorry for. I should be the one apologizing for not being, you know, more creative."

"Nothing wrong with the basics." For the first time, a real blush reddens her cheeks. She snuggles closer and s.h.i.+vers.

186.

I pull a fleece throw from under the sofa and drape it over us.

"How's that? Better?"

"Always prepared, huh? You must've been a Girl Scout."

"No, I just fall asleep on the couch a lot."

Rebecca looks at me, a hard yet tender stare, and touches my cheek.

"I want you to know something. I don't... you know... I don't..."

"Why, Miss Greenway, I don't believe I've ever seen you speechless."

She slaps my shoulder but doesn't go on. Just as well. I'm not sure I want to know what she was going to say.

I giggle and pull her close. This is a wonderful feeling, and I don't want to let it go. Who knows what tomorrow will bring?

CHAPTER 35.

The phone rang three times before someone said, "Greenbriar Counseling Center. May I help you?"

"Hi, June. It's Claire."

"h.e.l.lo there, how're you doing?" June's usually chipper voice seemed subdued.

"I'm good, but how are you? Is Carter feeling any better?"

She took her time answering. "Some days he does pretty good, others I just want to go out and get drunk."

"Should I reserve a s.p.a.ce for you in the alcoholics support group?"

I slapped my hand to my forehead. "Sorry, I didn't mean that the way it sounded. I just..."

"Don't worry about it. Besides, I haven't had so much as a gla.s.s of wine in months. Wouldn't solve anything anyway, would it?"

A shudder p.r.i.c.kled up the back of my neck. When I'd found the receipt from Damron's Pub two weeks before, Lora had told me she'd been with June. Why would she lie? Better yet, whom had Lora really been with?

"I wish there were something I could do, June. You know I've always thought a lot of you and Carter."

She sniffled. "Thank you, Claire. I appreciate your concern, but there's nothing we can do. It's in the good Lord's hands now."

"If you need anything..."

"I know. Lora's been a great comfort. You've got a winner there."

"Speaking of Lora, is she available? I thought we might meet for lunch."

"No, she's already gone."

I glanced at the clock and realized it was already after noon. "Guess the day has gotten away from me. When she gets back, will you ask her to give me a call?"

"She's taking the afternoon off. Didn't you know?"

"Uh... oh yeah, I forgot. Well, thanks anyway, June. Give Carter my best, and we'll be praying for you."

187.

188.

I hung up the phone and stared at Lora's photograph. She hadn't mentioned taking the afternoon off. Maybe she was planning something, a surprise of some sort. Could it be one of her no-special-occasion dinners? She hadn't done that in ages. Yes, that had to be ita mouthwatering dinner with champagne bubbling in those fancy crystal gla.s.ses she was so proud of, fresh fragrant roses, and a romantic, candlelit bubble bath. Thinking about it made me hot.

Absently, I muttered, "You little devil."

But what if that wasn't it? What if there was something going on that I needed to know about, something bad? I picked up the phone to try Lora's cell, but hung up without dialing.

I rocked back in my chair and stared at the ceiling. As hard as I tried to come up with an innocent explanation, it just wouldn't fit. Lora had lied to me about being with June at Damron's. And what was up with taking the afternoon off without mentioning it to me? Even when I was traveling, she would tell me every detail of her daily routines, so why not now? Where was she going? Who was she going to see?