“Greetings, neighbor,” he grinned. “I hope I’m not disturbing you.”
Elgin smiled warmly. “Of course not, Chad. I hoped you’d drop by. Please, come sit down. Can I get you some coffee?”
“No, thanks,” he told her, taking a seat at the deck table where she’d been finishing a second cup of coffee. “I just came by to give you this.” He brought a small package wrapped in bright yellow paper from behind his back.
“For me? What is it?”
“Open and see.”
She ripped open the paper and squealed with delight when she saw the contents, a pastel drawing of her house as viewed from the lake. About eighteen by eighteen inches, it showed the deck and windows and the trees.
“Oh Chad,” she breathed, “it’s beautiful! I love it!”
“Look on the back.”
Turning it over, Elgin saw he’d written something. “To Elgin,” she read. “The beautiful lady of the lake.”
Crimson rushed to her cheeks. “That’s very sweet, Chad.”
“Well, it’s the least I could do. I gave Marty a whole slew of the charcoals and watercolors I did from your dock and he put them up in the mercantile and he said they all went right away. He wants to know how soon he can have more and he’s already had several inquiries about whether there are any large oils for sale. Marty says the stench of money dying to be spent is absolutely overwhelming.”
“That sounds like Marty.”
“As I told you that first day, I’d like to drive down here with my oils and easel and use your beach and deck to do real paintings. The light on the water and definitely a couple of sunsets. They’re gorgeous from here. I promise you the pick of the litter.”
“You don’t need to do that, I’m happy to have you here. Just drive down and open the chain. But be careful when you get out. We almost had an accident last night coming home from the marina.”
“Oh? Nothing serious I hope?”
“No, nothing like that. It was late and Camp’d had a couple of beers and I’d fallen asleep in the car. I guess he forgot to set the emergency brake properly and when he got out to open the gate, the car sort of rolled down the hill.”
“Are you both all right?”
“Yes, we’re fine. I slept through all of it except when Camp slammed on the brakes to stop us. Now I know how James Bond’s martinis feel. Shaken, not stirred.”
Comstock grinned. “I’m glad you weren’t hurt. That gravel slope up there and that sharp curve…it could have been serious. You should tell your secretary to be more careful. By the way, where is he this morning? Out walking again?”
“No, he said he thought the SUV was fine but he wanted to be sure so he took it into town to have it looked at. Said he had some errands in town and would probably be gone the rest of the day.”
“Excuse me, but I need to avail myself of your facilities. Could I ask you for a quick tour of this wonderful old house?”
“Sure,” she told him cheerfully as they both rose. “Both bathrooms are upstairs. Don’t know why they didn’t at least put a half bath downstairs but they didn’t and I’ve never quite been able to figure out where to put one after seventy some odd years.”
Inside, he stopped to admire the huge stone fireplace.
“God, I love this,” he gushed, gazing around the room. “And this fireplace is magnificent. Now I know I have to paint you a sunset. On cold winter evenings you can sit in front of a roaring fire and remember the beauty of summer.”
“I’m afraid I don’t get up here in the winter. I actually haven’t used the cabin very much since I bought it. Work keeps me pretty busy. This summer trip is the first time I’ve been here in almost a year and it’s the longest I’ve stayed.”
“So what is it you do?” he asked, as they made their way upstairs.
“I’m a writer,” she replied as they came into the master bedroom. “Bathroom’s through there.”
“So what do you write?” he continued, his business in the bathroom finished.
“Nothing you’d be interested in.”
“How do you know what I’m interested in? Come on, tell me.”
“I write women’s erotica. You know. Soft porn for the lovelorn,” she joked lightly but feeling suddenly somewhat embarrassed. “Not exactly Agatha Christie but it pays the bills.”
“I haven’t read any of it myself,” he answered seriously, “but only because I don’t have a lot of time for reading of any kind. Personally, I think it’s terrific that half the human race is finally waking up to their own sexuality and the enjoyment thereof. You’ll have to give me the names of your books so I can get them. Maybe even get an autograph.”
“Check with Marty,” she laughed nervously. “They’re in that little book rack right by the cash register. I autographed a whole bunch of them.”
“Done. I’ll pick up one the next time I go into town.”
He turned and surveyed the room.
“This is a great room,” he told her enthusiastically. “Northern exposure. Fabulous light. Be a wonderful place to work.”
Abruptly, he dropped into the oversized stuffed chair on the wall facing her bed.
“I’d wake up in the morning, sit right here in this chair with my sketchbook and charcoals and draw a sleeping nude in that very bed.”
His eyes locked on hers as he continued. “Black curls rumpled against the white pillow. Childlike face in peaceful dreams. Blankets kicked off during the warm night, soft cotton sheets clinging to her ankles and feet. On her side, facing me. Curves of creamy white shoulders and hips and thighs. Breasts like nesting doves. Black pubic hair and a slit of pink pussy. I’d have to sketch fast to catch her in all her many poses.
“Now she’s turned her back to me, one leg over the other. That beautiful black hair pasted to that white neck by sweet summer sweat. Her backbone a little row of white hills on that beautiful expanse of milky back, tracking down to that lovely, heart-shaped, perfect ass.”
Elgin’s skin prickled as if electricity suddenly charged the air. He sat just out of reach, his implied invitation hanging in the small space between them like a ripe apple. She had only to reach out and take it.
“That sounds lovely,” she said finally, her voice raw with emotion, “and I envy the lucky lady. Too bad I’m so shy. Especially around handsome strangers.”
He rose, closing the gap until he stood over her, his lips so close she felt his hot breath on her cheek.
“There’s no reason to be shy,” he assured her tenderly. “We’re not strangers. Our souls have known each other always. The bodies may be different but I knew you the first moment I looked in your eyes. And you knew it too.”
“Please…” An anxious uncertainty…perhaps even a tinge of fear rippled through her.
His eyes clouded over like thunderclouds and his face grew dark.
“Your ‘secretary’…Harm? Is there…more than a business relationship?”
“No. I mean, not what you think.”
The big body relaxed and the clouds disappeared. “I’m glad. I wouldn’t want to trespass on someone else’s property. But it’s all right. I’d never hurt you. I want you to want me too. We’ll take it slowly, whatever you’re comfortable with. I’ll go down to the dock now and paint and you won’t even know I’m here.
“Maybe though, you’d let me take you to the Lodge one night soon for drinks and dinner. Get to know each other better. Even sit for a portrait…fully clothed for now. Just give me a chance, please.”
Longing and need filled those beautiful eyes, that mouth so sensual, so close. The heat of him rolled over her in waves, making her dizzy and hot herself. It had been such a long time…and he wanted her so much…
She felt their bodies being drawn together, his lips brushing hers.
A shock went through her but instead of burning away the last of her doubts, it seemed to snap her out of whatever spell had possessed her. Instantly, they separated.
“I think that would be very nice,” she managed, flustered, trying to regain her composure. “I think dinner at the Lodge would be a great idea. Maybe sometime next week.”
“That’s fine,” he murmured. “I look forward to it.”
Silently, they walked slowly back down the narrow stairs, Elgin feeling the touch of his warm body in her back as they descended. On the deck, Chad picked up his sketchbook and charcoals and strode quickly down to the beach, settling himself on a flat rock in the shade of a giant old pine and began to draw.
Elgin stood at the railing, watching his every move. Inside, a gnawing hunger wrestled with a haunting uncertainty. This kind, gentle, sexy exterior couldn’t possibly hide a monster capable of terror and murder. Certainly not here in her own peaceful, safe haven. Someone who created such beauty would never do such a horrible thing.
He wanted her. Even if he hadn’t said the words, his body had been screaming its need, its desire, practically since he’d appeared so unexpectedly on her deck that morning. And she certainly didn’t need X-ray vision to see the bulge still pressing against his zipper. A bulge she’d put there without so much as a caress.
That thought sent tiny bolts of lightning coursing through her blood again. He had a gorgeous face and a beautiful body and she imagined him a thoughtful, gentle, skilled lover. There did not need to be any entanglements. A summer fling, and nothing more. And she had to admit he attracted her like no man had in a long time.
Harm.
Elgin frowned and bit her lip. Instantly, the prickles stopped.
He didn’t like Chad, she knew. Didn’t trust him. He’d made that plain enough after their first meeting. She’d invited him to come and paint but if she took him inside, upstairs, Harm would surely figure out the situation. And there were only so many errands she’d be able to send him on. Going out would only bring on suspicious questions. Not to mention he could always locate her with the ‘dog collar.’ Of course, she could “accidentally” forget to put it on, but he’d see through that in a minute.
She wanted to make love again. Feel a hot, hard cock in her wet, excited pussy. Passionate lips on hers, tender fingers on her swollen nipples. Slick, heated skin moving against slick, heated skin in a primal rhythm of need and fulfillment. She wanted to have scorching, animal lust, needy sex. And she wanted it soon.
Harm yawned and glanced at his watch. Almost one thirty. What could be taking so long?
As soon as he’d left Moon’s End, he’d headed straight for the secluded storage locker his people had been able to rent on short notice. Fortunately, he’d only had to drive a short distance to find it. Using the code number he’d been given, he’d pulled into the double garage sized unit, a tech had pulled down the door and the forensics team had gone to work.
They’d found smudged prints on the doors, the wheel, the gearshift and the emergency brake. Also hair and fiber trace evidence. From bumper to bumper, they’d gone over every centimeter of the SUV, including making sure that it hadn’t been damaged, accidentally or on purpose, by the incident. It had taken several hours and then several more as they’d searched the area of the accident, lookouts with two-way radios posted to warn them of anyone approaching from either end.
Comstock had been on the deck with Elgin, showing her his sketchbook, enjoying a beer and behaving like he owned the place when he’d finally returned, late in the afternoon. Even though the thorough background report had showed the artist to be everything he represented himself to be, Harm still didn’t like him; either personally with his boyish charm and easy sexuality, or professionally with his hanging around Elgin. Seeing Harm, he’d gathered himself up and made a hasty exit.
He’d grilled steak on the barbecue for their dinner. It had been a long time and he’d been hesitant about his rusty skills, but Elgin had insisted so he’d cranked up the grill and done a pretty fair job. She’d produced mixed fruit and potato salad and they’d watched a gorgeous sunset, lingering over a second Irish coffee before Elgin had gone upstairs about eleven.
Making an excuse that he wanted to watch the stars and enjoy the warm night air, Harm waited for the information about the SUV to arrive. He prayed they’d find some clue, no matter how small, to point him towards his quarry.
Restless, Harm got up and walked around the large main room. He’d had more coffee than he should have trying to stay awake but the inactivity and waiting were taking their toll. Sleep lurked just over the horizon of his mind. His body cried out for him to lie down and close his eyes. But he couldn’t risk his PDA’s mail alarm going off and waking Elgin and he needed to get the forensic information before morning. Especially if they’d turned up something solid.
Elgin’s books were upstairs in her bedroom. Even a sexy romance would have given him something to read, occupy his mind. Perhaps he could find something else lying around. A magazine. A cookbook. Anything.
Absently, he moved to a small desk sitting in an alcove by itself near the front door. He’d never seen Elgin use the desk but it was as good a place to start as any. The drawers contained nothing but dust, an old yellow legal tablet and a fountain pen with no ink. Except the last one on the right-hand side. Lying in the bottom, he found a thick sheaf of paper, covered in faded blue cardstock and held together with two brass brads. Curious, he reached in and removed it.
Another Love, A Novel by Elgin Collier.
Sheila Forbes had told him she wrote under a pen name. Gillian Something. Oh well, better than nothing. Picking up the manuscript, he went back over to the sofa and settled himself under the small reading lamp on the end table. Carefully, he placed his PDA on the table where he could watch the screen. Hopefully, this romantic trash would keep him awake until the forensic boys sent their information.
“How dare you!”
The scream more than the words ripped through his sleep and pulled him to groggy consciousness. Opening his eyes, he sat up and blinked, trying to figure out where he was and what was going on. Before his brain slipped into gear however, something heavy connected with the left side of his head, almost knocking him over again.
“Hey,” he yelped, grabbing his throbbing ear. “What the hell…?”
“You miserable, rotten, low down, good-for-nothing, weasel-hearted son of a bitch!” Something came at him again and instinctively he ducked, feeling air whiz by his head. Peeking up, he saw Elgin standing in front of the sofa, her face contorted and purple with rage, the manuscript in both hands, raised to her head and ready to swing again.
“What are doing? Are you crazy?”
“I’m going to kill you, you lying, sneaking, cold-blooded bastard and there’s not a jury in the world that would convict me. I’ll probably get a medal from the ‘Keep America Beautiful’ people. Consider it part of the vermin abatement program!” The manuscript flew at him again but he grabbed it and managed to wrestle it away from her.
“Stop it,” he shouted, finally getting to his feet. “Stop this crap and tell me what’s going on.”
Ten bright red claws arched out at his face. Grabbing her wrists, Harm marveled at her strength as she struggled to break free and reach him.
“Let go of me you contemptible prick! You pile of pig shit! When I get my hands on you…”
“Stop this,” he ordered again, shaking her like a rag doll. “Stop it.”
Suddenly she stopped fighting him, fixing him instead with a look that burned right through him. Theirs had been an uneasy relationship at best and he’d gotten used to her smart mouth and monumental attitude. But this was different. Cold, pure, unadulterated hate radiated out at him like a physical force. He knew if he released her, she’d kill him without a second thought.
“You had no right,” she spit, “no right at all. This is my house and these are my things and most especially this is my book. Your Junior G-man license doesn’t give you the right to snoop through my things. Through my personal things. And that book is about as personal as my life gets.”
He glanced down at the sofa, the little light still on, the manuscript on the floor. The pieces fell into place and a wave of embarrassment and remorse rolled over him. His fingers opened and she immediately pulled back her arms, rubbing the red finger marks on her wrists.
“I’m sorry,” he told her softly, his head drooping to his chin. “I couldn’t sleep last night. I thought maybe I could find a magazine or a book to read ‘til I got drowsy. I found the manuscript in your desk drawer. I…I thought it was one of your romance novels. I wasn’t prying but you’re right. I shouldn’t have been going through the desk.”
“Well,” she told him, her voice dripping acid, “at least it wasn’t a total loss. I mean, apparently it did put you to sleep.”
Bending down to retrieve the manuscript, he held it out to her. She took it, pulling it to her, crossing her arms over it in a protective, almost maternal gesture.
“I enjoyed it,” he told her seriously. “Really. It’s very good.”
“You sound surprised.”
Like everything else, this wasn’t going to be easy.
“I was. I mean, I expected heaving bosoms and throbbing rods. That’s the cliché of romance novels. But this,” he nodded to the book, “totally blew me away. The story, your way with words. It’s a love story but it’s more. It’s…it’s…”
“Literature?” she prodded.
“Yes. Literature. Your descriptions of the ordinary, everyday, almost invisible indignities of a slave’s life made me angry and sad and ashamed. You throw the whole, ugly, filthy system in your reader’s lap, narrowed down to the laser point of two human beings on opposite sides of it. I hope you’ll autograph a copy for me when it’s published.”
Elgin laughed, a single caustic, ironic chuckle. “Yes, well don’t sit by the telephone with a tuna sandwich and wait for that to happen.”
“I don’t understand.”
A deep sigh escaped her, resonating with despair and resignation and frustration. “It’s very simple, really. I’ve been writing as long as I can remember. I never wanted to be a schoolteacher or a nurse or any of the other things little girls want when they’re growing up. My mother and I both worked to put me through college.
“Clutching my newly printed degree, I struck out for the center of the publishing world, New York. Worked as a filing clerk in the daytime and wrote like an inspired fiend at night. Haunted agents and publishers, lived in ratty apartments, ate peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and generally suffered for my art.
“One day, I literally bumped into Sheila on the subway. She told me she had a job as a reader at what she termed, ‘Pervert Publishing.’ ‘Alternative fiction,’ they called it. But she’d discovered people were buying it up like rainwater in the desert, especially on the Internet. She also discovered the one area these sleaze bags didn’t cover was women’s erotica. Sex but tied up with ribbons and champagne. She told me they got dozens of inquiries a month asking if they carried that kind of thing.
“So, having maxed out her credit cards for the publishing software and a website, she’d gone into business for herself. Fantasy Publishing; cool stories and hot sex.”
“Well, then, I guess you were all set.”
“Yeah. Right. I told her she was crazy and that she’d be in the poor house in six months. She told me I was probably right but to keep her card anyway.
“Well, winter came and one morning while covering a hole in my shoe sole with one of my rejection slips, it dawned on me that I’d suffered enough for my art. I rummaged around in my desk for a novella I’d written about a ‘soiled dove’ in a western bordello and trundled off to see Sheila who by then had a real office and was printing real books.
“She read the novella, told me to call my heroine a ‘whore,’ write three more sex scenes and see that she ended up reformed in the arms of the hero and I’d have myself a hit. So I did. Of course, since I was only doing it for the money and didn’t want it to reflect on my ‘real’ writing, I created Gillian Shelby. The book came out and presto! After five years of struggle, I was an overnight success.”
“But…?”
“Here’s where the irony comes in. I thought that Gillian’s success would open the right doors for Elgin. No longer a mere ‘wannabe,’ I’d achieved ‘published’ status. Or at least Gillian had. Unfortunately, she’d been consigned to ‘romance’ hell and publishers and agents didn’t take seriously that she might have more meat on her literary bones. And Elgin Collier still couldn’t get arrested. So, Another Love gathers dust in my drawer.”
“You shouldn’t just give up like that. It’s too good to just sit in a drawer. Why doesn’t your friend publish it?”
“Because Sheila’s running a business, not a charity. Another Love does not fit her publishing criteria or her target audience.”
“And she can’t broaden that target audience? Even for a friend?”
“Oh, I’m sure she’d do it if I pressed the matter,” Elgin responded, “but I believe you shouldn’t take advantage of your friends.”
“She must know other publishers.”
“Sure and they’d be glad to read it. Even publish it…if Gillian Shelby agrees to break her contract with Fantasy Publishing and write three or four novels. Just in case Elgin Collier bombs.”
“It’s not right. Not fair.”
“Maybe not, but that’s how the world is. And speaking of fair, I’m sorry about flying off the handle like that at you. It’s not very fair of me to go off on you without even giving you a chance to explain. I’m sorry. And I’m sorry I bopped you with the book.”
Harm gingerly put his fingers to his ear. “Ouch!”
“Here, sit down. Let me look at it.”
“No, it’s okay, really. Just a little sore.” He grinned. “Now I know what they mean about a book being ‘weighty.’”
“Please, let me see.” Laying the book on the coffee table behind her, she touched her fingertips to his ear, running them softly, slowly around the edge, bending forward as she did so.
Her skin, smooth and cool and the feel of her made him tremble, feel weak in the knees. Warm breath tickled the morning stubble on his cheek, her lips close enough to touch. The feel of thin satiny robe as it rubbed against his chest. The rich, sweet smell of her.
Wordlessly, she pressed herself against him, raising her other hand to cup his head between them as their lips met. Passion, unexpected and intense, engulfed them, pulling them deeper, closer. Grabbing her ass, he pushed into her body, feeling her sudden heat through his hard cock.
Fingers feeling like sausages, Harm fumbled with the sash of her robe as Elgin quickly unfastened the top button of his jeans, yanking down his zipper to expose the python-like bulge in his shorts. They had to part for a moment so that she could slide off her robe and he could pull off the rest of his clothes.
“You’re beautiful,” she whispered, running her hand lightly up and down his shaft, feeling the rigid heat of him as lust pounded through it with every heartbeat.
“So are you,” he answered, running his fingers across her nipples, watching them get hard like his cock, cupping them and feeling their soft weight in his hands. Tenderly, he bent his head, suckling each one in turn, feeling her trembling, her breath catch.
When he took a breath, she lifted his face to hers, enjoying another ecstatic, longing kiss. Parting, she took his hand and they hurried up the stairs to her bedroom.
Soft morning light filtered through the trees and into the room, bathing it in a kind of peaceful glow. The covers lay where she’d pulled them off when she rose, the sheets still wrinkled, a depression in her pillow where her head had lain.
Slowly, she crawled in, moving to the unrumpled side to make room for him. As he followed her, Elgin put out her arms to him.
“I want you,” she murmured. “No strings, no expectations, no promises. Just now and for however long it lasts. It’s been so long I’d almost forgotten how it feels to want someone as much as I want you. Please…”
“It’s pretty obvious how much I want you,” he answered quietly as he wrapped her in his embrace, feeling her arms around his body. “I’ll do whatever you want, however you want to do it. Just let me be with you, make love with you. You make me feel…well, like I never thought I’d feel again.”
“Come inside me, now.” She underscored the urgency in her voice by taking his cock in her fist and guiding between her legs.
“Don’t you want me to play with you?” he mumbled, surprised by her eagerness.
“Right now,” she breathed in his ear, “all I want is you. Inside me. Fill me up and then some with that thick, hard, beautiful cock of yours.”
Settling between her legs, Harm slid effortlessly into her wet pussy, a short gasp of pleasure and a tensing of her body under him. And then he felt her relax, matching her movements to his, pushing herself against him, taking him up, the friction of his sac on her swollen clit, sparking new fire in her blood with each stroke.
Her lips and arms and pussy enfolded him, wrapping him in heated pleasure, making him forget everything but her body and the sensations roaring through his own. Far from romantic, fantasy lovemaking, they were two people, filled with lust and bottled-up passion, releasing an animal need as primal as life itself. It didn’t mean anything except the pleasure of the moment. They wanted each other and that was reason, explanation, enough.
Elgin moaned softly and he felt the first tremors of her release ripple through her body. Fingernails dug into his skin as she grabbed his ass, kneading and grinding, trying to force himself deeper, harder into her. The muscles inside her, closed more tightly around his cock and his tempo sped up, his own orgasm just strokes away.
Her moans and cries of pleasure mixed with his as they crested and exploded together, rainbow bolts of sensation shooting through them like a perfect electric circuit feeding on itself until the power is spent.
“Oh…God…” she breathed between pants as she struggled to catch her breath. “You’re…you’re…unbelievable.”
“Likewise,” he mumbled, exiting gently and collapsing beside her. Elgin curled herself around him, snuggling in the crook of his arm and laying her head on his chest.
Slowly, she ran her fingertips over his chest, tweaking his nipples playfully and exploring the thin, light brown hair sprinkled over his chest, tapering in a straight line to the surprisingly soft nest of pubic hair and his not-quite-resting cock.
“You have a nice body,” she told him, her voice still a sultry whisper. “Now that I’m not in such an…excited state, I hope you’ll let me examine it in a more leisurely, more thorough fashion.”
“Only if you’ll reciprocate.” He took a nipple between his long, hard fingers and felt her tremble against him. Even having just climaxed, he felt his cock stir once more and he knew the morning’s delight would continue.
“That feels good,” she encouraged him, moving her fingertips down to his inner thighs and fondling his sac.
“Before we get carried away again, don’t you think we ought to talk?” She raised her eyes and saw the seriousness in his.
“About…?”
“Well, for one thing, protection.” He flushed slightly and glanced past her to the wall. “I…uh…didn’t come prepared. I mean… I… You and me…”
The Scout scenario flashed in Elgin’s mind and she clenched her teeth to keep from laughing out loud.
“Oh.”
He gazed down at her. “I don’t make a habit of dropping into bed with every woman I meet. Especially not a client. Most especially not when I’m on a case. I guess maybe I should have figured that a woman like you would just naturally…”
“Excuse me,” she interrupted sharply, raising herself on her elbow. “What exactly do you mean, ‘a woman like me?’”
“I don’t know. Beautiful. Worldly. Sensuous. You probably have hot and cold running guys chasing after you.” Those sad dark eyes looked away again, his voice dropped to a whisper. “I haven’t been with a woman in almost five years. That’s a major reason for my lack of…staying power. That and the fact you’re so sexy. I…uh…generally take my time about this.”
Gently, Elgin put her fingertip under his chin and turned his face back to hers. “Trust me, you did just fine. It’s sort of like gulping your food when you’re hungry. And believe me, famished doesn’t begin to explain how I felt. It’s been more than three years for me. Despite what I write, I don’t drop into bed either. I have to feel a connection, something ‘special’ that I want to share with someone. Like what I feel for you.
“If it makes you feel any better, I had my annual physical four months ago, including the standard blood tests. I’m depressingly healthy. And I’ve been on The Pill for irregular cycles since I was seventeen.”
“I was married to the last woman I had sex with,” he told her quietly. “We only used protection because we didn’t want to start a family right away. When she died, something in me did too.”
“I’m sorry, Camp. I didn’t mean to bring up unpleasant memories. I didn’t mean to rush into anything…to take advantage of the situation. Of you.”
He smiled a little and ran the ball of this thumb gently down her cheek. “Isn’t the man supposed to say that at a time like this?”
“I’m the one who came at you, remember? I think on some level I’ve been attracted to you from the beginning. I tend to be willful and, as Sheila puts it so delicately, damned bullheaded. That, combined with your attitude towards my writing…well, I guess the sparks flew but in the wrong direction.”
Harm stared past her again and she had the feeling that he’d gone somewhere else; somewhere she couldn’t follow. For long moments, she lay beside him, silently speaking to him with her body. At long last, he looked at her again, the sadness in his face, eyes, whole body, making her heart suddenly ache.
“Jeanne was seventeen when I first met her. She was the oldest daughter of my first partner after I got out of the police academy. Bill invited me to a barbecue one weekend. We’d only been partnering about three months. I rang the bell and she answered. Five foot four, red hair, blue eyes, a body to make a man fall on his face at her feet. I loved her before I even knew her name.
“We waited two years. A lot of necking, a lot of petting, a lot of cold showers, but she wanted our first time to be ‘special.’ A celebration.” Harm paused and Elgin thought he might cry but he managed to go on.
“Our wedding night was beautiful. We spent hours playing and fondling and arousing each other. I wanted her to be happy, as fulfilled emotionally as physically. When she climaxed the first time, I almost came myself, she was so enraptured, so high. From then on, all I wanted was to make this woman happy. Explore all the ways there are for two people in love to show it. Make her body sing and be glad we were together.”
“It sounds wonderful.”
“It was. For a while. But in those days, I wanted a career as much as I wanted a home. I worked all the overtime I could get. I told her it was so we could save money and buy a house and start a family and I meant it. But I also wanted to make rank, get ahead. When I wasn’t working or studying for the next exam, I was asleep.”
“One day I got a chance to try out for the FBI. When I was accepted, it meant uprooting to Quantico, Virginia. She didn’t want to leave her family and friends but I told her that as soon as I graduated and got a permanent assignment, we’d buy a house. Have kids. And I’d put in for a transfer back ‘home’ as soon as I could.”
“And that never happened?”
He shook his head and bit his lip. “The training took every hour of the day, every ounce of strength I had. It made my police days seem like a paid vacation. I don’t even remember when we stopped making love. It just seemed to…to sort of dry up and…”
“That happens in long term relationships,” she offered. “It’s called ‘reality’ and afflicts lots of couples.”
“I don’t know,” Harm sighed. “All I know is that I spent a lot more time with my career than my wife. It wasn’t that I didn’t love her…didn’t want to be with her. I did. I even told myself I was doing it for us. That as soon as I got ‘ahead,’ I’d slow down and we’d do all the things we planned. We never got the chance.”
“It wasn’t your fault she died.”
“I didn’t shoot her or push her off a cliff, if that’s what you mean,” he answered bitterly. “But I might just as well have. I just stopped being there for her. I killed her and I didn’t even know it. Hell, I didn’t even know she was going out. I was never home at night and when I was home in the daytime, I was usually asleep.
“I came home from an undercover operation. I’d been gone the best part of three months. I found her lying in our bed.” Tears pooled in his eyes and slid down his face. “She was in labor.”
The word hit Elgin like a physical blow and she felt herself flinch.
“The sheets were soaked and she was barely conscious. I called an ambulance and we drove to the hospital. All the way there, I couldn’t understand why she hadn’t told me. I would have been happy to have a child. A piece of us.
“She didn’t make it to the hospital. The baby came in the ambulance and the paramedics rushed both of them into emergency. After a while, this teenage kid in a white coat came out, told me he was Dr. Such-and-Such and how sorry he was but that Jeanne hadn’t survived. He told me the baby was in a bad way and needed an emergency operation to survive. Said the baby had a fairly rare blood type and that if I could give blood, it would save time trying to locate some. Asked me if I wanted to donate blood.
“My wife had just died…of course I wanted to do anything I could to save our child so I said of course. At that moment I was so shook up, I totally forgot that I’m A positive. Only after the blood work came back that I wasn’t a suitable donor did it dawn on me. The reason she hadn’t told me about the baby was because it wasn’t mine. She’d been too ashamed even to get pre-natal treatment.”
“Oh Camp…”
“Turned out it didn’t really make any difference. He died on the operating table.”
Harm wiped his face on the corner of the pillowcase.
“I don’t remember very much about the days after that. I buried Jeanne and the baby and everyone told me what a tragedy it was. I asked for a transfer. Told people I couldn’t bear to be in the same apartment, the same town…While I was cleaning out Jeanne’s things, I found a whole box full of paperback romance novels. The kind you write with lots of hot sex and happy endings. Most of them looked like they’d been read and re-read. I couldn’t believe it. My wife’s stash of porn. Flipping through them, I got angrier and angrier as I skimmed the passages. People like you had made her dissatisfied, filled her head with a lot of romantic nonsense about forbidden love affairs and steamy passion. I blamed you for her death.”
“I can understand that, Camp. Really, I can.”
“Don’t be understanding, Elgin. I don’t deserve it. Jeanne was a beautiful, healthy woman with all the needs and wants a woman has. Should have. I gave her the gift of sex. I showed her the power and the pleasure of that gift and then I took it away from her. Blaming you and the sexy books was easier than facing the truth. If it was your fault, it didn’t have to be mine. Somehow, you’d seduced her away from me. I hadn’t let her go. And it worked very well until I met you. Now I understand, about a lot of things.”
“Then let it rest, Camp. Jeanne did what she did. If she’d loved you…really loved you…she would have talked to you. Tried to work it out. Maybe you couldn’t have stayed together. No one can know that now. But I know that if she loved you…if she ever loved you, she wouldn’t want you to stop living, to be alone.”
“I don’t know…”
“Yes, you do. You know that if you’d have been killed in the line of duty, you wouldn’t have wanted her to grow old by herself. Nothing but memories to keep her warm. You’d have wanted her to get on with her life, including someone else to share it with. Wouldn’t you?”
“Of course, but…”
“No ‘buts.’ It’s time for both of you to rest in peace.” Elgin kissed him softly, the salty taste of his tears on her lips. He responded, taking her in his arms and returning the kiss, opening her lips to explore her mouth.
In a moment, his cock had resumed its hot, hard shape, rubbing against her flesh as they embraced.
“I don’t think he wants to rest,” Harm laughed, pointing downward.
“Well, then, lets see if he’d like to play some more.” Elgin slid out of his grasp and out of bed.
“What are you up to?” he asked as she rummaged in her bureau.
“Ah, here we are,” she announced, turning around and holding up a hand full of colored scarves. “Let the games begin.”
“What are you going to do with those?” he asked warily.
“We’re going to play ‘Blind Man’s Bluff,’ and you’re ‘it.’ Put your arms up at the headboard.”
“Oh no,” he told her, shoving his hands under his body. “No games.”
“Of course games,” she chuckled, dragging the smooth, silky material over his cock. “He wants to play; I want to play. Don’t be a poop.”
The materials gliding over him sent a chill of pleasure through him. Reluctantly, he raised his arms for her, watching as she tied his wrists securely to a couple of the spiral posts that made up her headboard.
“Not too tight?”
“No, I guess not.”
“Good. I use the cotton instead of the silk because it’s not so likely to slip and tighten up when you’re…ah…moving around.”
“Hey, now what?” he barked as she folded a thick, dark blue scarf and leaned toward his head.
“You’re ‘it,’” she explained with a giggle. “You can’t play the game without a Blind Man. Now hold still.” Quickly she covered his eyes, tying the scarf securely behind his head.
“Okay, now what?”
“I’ll be right back,” she laughed and he felt her get up from the bed. “I have to go find my camera.”
“Elgin!” he shouted. “Elgin, you come back here. That isn’t funny.” Tugging, he couldn’t move his wrists.
“Don’t get so excited,” she told him as he heard her bare feet pad back into the room. “At least not yet.” He felt the weight of her as she climbed back into the bed. “Hmmm, you look positively yummy. All helpless and totally at my mercy.”
“Elgin…”
She took his cock in her hand, grabbing it firmly but not uncomfortably at the base. Something warm and thick touched the head, flowing slowly down like molasses.
“What is that?”
In answer, her lips closed around his shaft, her tongue licking the head, her mouth forming a tight vacuum. The sensation would have sent him crashing through the ceiling had he not been tied securely to the bed.
“I love hot fudge,” she sighed, raising her mouth from his cock but leaving her tongue to roll around the tip. “It’s so sweet and thick and rich. I like it on just about anything I can get in my mouth.”
Her lips moved to the base of his cock, her soft cheeks brushing his pubic hair and sac, her tongue moving around the shaft as it traveled slowly upward, making sure that not a drop of chocolate escaped her.
He’d never known anything like it. Certainly he’d had oral sex, but not like this. Helpless, his sight gone, his whole body seemed more alive, more sensitive than he could ever remember. Fire pulsed through his body, his cock straining at this sweet torture.
“You know what I like with hot fudge,” she murmured. “Nice cool, whipped cream.”
He heard a raspberry noise and his cock felt the chill of the light froth as it covered him completely, again from base to tip.
“Oh shit,” he muttered, “that’s cold.”
“Well then, let me get rid of it for you.”
Her pursed lips moved up and down his shaft, sucking the sweet cream up like a vacuum. At the top, her teeth raked gently over the tip as it disappeared, her tongue lapping up every last bit.
“Hmm, you taste good. A little salty, but very good. Let’s see what else there is to play with.”
Something smooth, cool and silky moved across his thighs and stomach, drifting lightly to snake itself around his cock. A feather tip tickled his balls as her breath blew softly on his pubic hair.
“Oh God…” he moaned, twisting and writhing in building pleasure.
“What a lovely, big, thick cock you have,” she cooed, dragging the silk scarf around his shaft like the red stripes on a candy cane. “So hot and full.”
Another scarf moved lazily across his throat and down to his nipples, the thin material barely touching his skin but sending icicles of excitement through him like a burst of electricity. The scarves moved around his cock and over every inch of his body. She pulled one tenderly up and down the arch of his foot, relishing the little chuckles they elicited from him.
His rising excitement was firing her own. Watching him squirm as she worked on him, she felt herself growing hot, her desire building. Removing the scarf with a last flourish, she straddled him, brushing her swelled, wet clit and pussy the length of his cock, his fiery, rippled hardness sending flashes of pleasure sizzling through her.
Under her, his cock twitched and wiggled like something alive, seeking her in hot desperation.
“Do you like that?” she whispered, laying herself out on him, her nipples touching him ever so slightly, her lips meeting his.
Groans and whimpers of pleasure answered her, his body moving against her. She watched the big vein in his neck throb as blood pumped through it, hot and horny and anxious for her. A wave of heat washed over her as she bent down and bit into his soft flesh just where his neck blended into his shoulders.
He whimpered and wiggled beneath her, his body musky and aroused, covered with a salty sheen of passion and exertion. Satisfied that the red marks of her teeth would blossom into a very nice hickey, Elgin traced her tongue slowly down his chest, stopping at his nipples. At her first touch, Harm shuddered, his hips bucking under her in response to the unexpected sensation. Encouraged, she nipped and sucked on the tiny buds, bringing them to their full erection.
She couldn’t stand much more foreplay and she knew he couldn’t either. Moving backwards a little, she eased herself up, taking him in her hand and guiding him until she sat, fully impaled on him, her clit rubbing on his balls, the feel of him filling her to bursting.
Groans and growls bubbled out as she moved slowly up and down his shaft, squeezing and teasing; pushing herself down on him as hard as she could, then easing up until only the head of his cock remained in her.
She watched, eyes half-closed in a dreamy fog as his stomach muscles tightened and relaxed with the rhythm of his pumping, chest hair darkened with his sweat, arms straining and outlined against the bedding and the dark wood spindles.
Sparklers fizzed in her blood and the first shudders of orgasm grew into full climax, rocking her as he came beneath her, their cries and moans mixing and running together like streamers of confetti in the wind.
Quickly, she undid the scarves, tossing them aside as she removed the blindfold and began to massage his wrists and arms.
“Turn over,” she ordered. “If I don’t rub your neck and shoulders, you’re going to feel like you played the first half without your pads.”
“Mmm,” he mumbled, dutifully turning on his stomach, letting her gently massage his neck, shoulders, back, arms and wrists.
“Okay?” she asked after several moments.
“More like terrific. Come here.”
She folded into his embrace and they lay quietly, listening to the morning birds and their breathing returning to normal.
“How ‘bout a nice refreshing shower and then a long soak in a warm tub? Help keep those muscles from getting stiff. Just in case…”
“I knew there was a reason they had those great big old tubs,” he laughed. “Nothing like a little aquatic hanky-panky for a honeymoon cottage.”
“Sorry to disappoint you, Romeo, but the reason the tubs are so big is that according to local gossip, the original owners were both well over six foot tall. Had the tubs made extra large especially for the cabin.”
“Makes a good cover story,” he insisted. “And after all, what’s a little good, clean fun between consenting adults?”
“You think so, huh?”
“Definitely.”
“Then what are we waiting for?”
“Mmmm, you taste good,” Harm mumbled, nibbling the back of her neck.
“You can’t possibly still be horny,” she laughed, shaking her head and settling against his chest.
“I never said I was horny,” he corrected, “only that you taste good. And look good and feel good and smell good.”
“Are we just going to lie here in this tub all day getting wrinkled and pruney?”
“Either that or we could go back to bed. I think there’s still some hot fudge left.” Circling her in his arms, he leaned back and closed his eyes.
“Whoa, there,” she giggled, feeling his soft cock in the small of her back as she cuddled between his legs, “I don’t know about you, but I’ve had more sex in the last couple of hours than in the last couple of years. Better pace ourselves. We’re going to be here ‘til Labor Day and you don’t want to peak too soon.”
“I don’t care about anything except fucking you, which I intend to do as often as you and Nature will permit, including in this marvelous old tub. Maybe not right this minute, but it’s definitely going to happen. With any luck, more than once.”
“My God, I’ve created a monster. A horny, insatiable monster.”
Turning her gently, she saw he’d grown suddenly quiet and serious.
“On the contrary,” he whispered. “You took a hard, cold, unfeeling monster and turned him back into a caring, needy, very horny man again. He just wants to show his gratitude and appreciation for giving him back his life. If he can make you squeal with pleasure, that’s just a bonus.”
“I didn’t do anything. That warm, caring, very horny man’s always been there; he just needed to be reminded, that’s all.”
“Thank you anyway.” They shared a long, passionate, slightly awkward kiss.
“Well, I’ve got to get out of here,” she announced. “If I don’t, in another ten minutes I really will look like a wrinkled old hag. Besides, if I don’t at least get some coffee, I’m going to pass out.”
“I guess you’re right,” he agreed as she grabbed the tub sides and lifted herself up. “You better eat. You’re going to need all your energy. The day’s still young yet.” He flashed her an evil grin.
Rolling her eyes, Elgin padded across the room and grabbed her towel. Pulling the plug, Harm got out and joined her.
“What say you take me to the Lodge for dinner tonight? If you’re good, I’ll let you pay the check.” She smiled slyly. “And if you’re very, very good, I may even let you get me tipsy and take advantage.”
“And how good would I have to be?”
“We’ll work on that today. A lot.”
When they’d dried, Harm went across the hall to his room to dress and Elgin did too, taking a little extra time to comb her hair and put on fresh lipstick but no underwear.
Straightening the bed, the memory of their lovemaking replayed itself. With a chuckle, she wadded up the scarves and put them in her nightstand drawer. Since she knew they’d be needed again…soon…no point putting them back in her bureau.
Idly, she wondered what The Mercantile might have in the way of adult toys. Probably nothing but she’d have to remember to buy more hot fudge.
Stepping into the hall, her nose wrinkled up as it caught the welcome scent of food cooking. Following the aroma, she found Harm at the stove, sausage frying in a black skillet.
“Well, well,” she teased, putting her arm around his waist, “aren’t you just handy as a shirt pocket? I didn’t know the FBI had a cooking merit badge.”
Bending down, he pecked her cheek. “Watch it, woman,” he warned playfully. “I swing a mean spatula. God knows you need a good spanking but you’d probably enjoy it.”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“As a matter of fact, yes. And I may just find out before the summer’s finished, too. Any objections?”
“Who knows?” she shrugged, moving to the coffee maker on the counter. “It’s a long time ‘til September. Anything might happen.”
“Is that a threat or a promise?”
“Gettin’ a late start this mornin’ aren’t you?” Fisher eyed the breakfast dishes still sitting on the table as Harm and Elgin enjoyed a leisurely second cup of coffee.
“Well, you know how it is, Jim,” Elgin told him, throwing Harm a quick glance, “some mornings you just don’t feel like getting out of bed.”
Trying to stifle a surprised laugh, Harm began coughing, sipping coffee as Elgin patted his back.
Fisher looked from Harm to Elgin and back, suspicion in his eyes, his mouth drawn down a little. Obviously they didn’t intend to share the joke.
“Would you like some coffee?” she offered when Harm had regained his composure.
“No thanks. Since you don’t have a phone, Marty called me to ask if you two’d like to go out on ‘The Monkey’ tomorrow. Says he’s gotta go over to West Shore on business and thought you’d like to ride over, lose a few bucks in the casinos and gawk at the tourists. Late lunch and then back here before sunset.”
“What’s ‘The Monkey?’” Harm asked.
“Marty’s boat,” Elgin replied happily. “Actually, ‘The Brass Monkey.’”
“That’s a strange name for a boat.”
“Marty’s sort of a strange guy,” Fisher chuckled. “If ya get my drift. Never owned a boat before he bought her. Big, ocean goin’ thing. Not exactly John Wayne’s converted minesweeper, but twice the size of anything up here. Had it brought all the way from the coast.
“Well, soon as I saw it, I asked him what the hell he intended to do with it when winter come. He looks at me with those big sad eyes of his and say, ‘whataya mean?’ I told him the lake gets too cold and too rough to leave a boat in the water all winter. I take all mine out and put ‘em in storage. Told him livin’ up here all his life, he should know that in winter, even the brass monkeys come inside.
“Well, he looked at me and my little runabouts and back at his yacht and says, ‘Oh.’ That’s all. Just, ‘Oh.’ Two days later a crew a workmen arrived up at his place. Built a big old shed up behind his place where ya couldn’t see it from the water or the house. When winter come, he hired a crane to come down, pull that thing outta the water and haul it up to that shed. Next year, he had ‘em come back and put her in the water. Had a big christenin’ ceremony and named her ‘The Brass Monkey.’ Everybody had a good laugh includin’ Marty.”
“Oh that sounds wonderful,” Elgin replied excitedly. “You’ll love it, Camp, really.”
“Sure. Sounds like fun.”
“Figured you wouldn’t turn it down,” Fisher smiled indulgently. “Marty said he’ll meet you at the ‘Monkey’ ‘bout nine-thirty. Better set yer alarm. Don’t wanna over sleep.”
“No need for that,” she assured him. “We’ll be there with bells on.”
“Well, I better get goin’. Us workin’ people can’t afford to lounge around all day. ‘Sides, don’t wanna tax poor Tom’s brain by leavin’ him in charge too long.”
“Let’s face it, Jim,” she teased, putting her arm around him, “you think anything after five a.m. is sleeping in.”
“And you think anything before nine is gettin’ up with the chickens. Damn good thing you’re a writer and don’t have to punch a time clock like the rest of us.”
“You know I never worried about having a job. You promised me as a child I could always come work for you.”
“Offer still stands. Any time you wanna give up that city crap and come home, Ellie, you know you’re always welcome.”
“I know Jim,” she told him quietly. “And you have no idea how much that means to me.”
He gazed down at her fondly. Finally, he kissed the top of her head.
“You and Harm be sure to come by and say ‘howdy’ tomorrow. Might be able to rustle up a beer er even a hard cola.”
“Bet on it.”
“Okay then. Bye Ellie. Harm.”
“Bye Jim.”
The two of them settled back to the table.
“I, uh, don’t mean to be rude, but where the hell did he materialize from? I’d hate to think of someone sneaking up on us if we’d been otherwise occupied.”
“Oh, I keep forgetting. You’re a stranger here. You don’t know the territory. Jim lives just on the other side of that knoll over there. Sort of catawampus to the upper corner of my property.
“This whole area is honeycombed with old logging roads and trails. Some of them go all the way back to the gold rush. Jim knows them all and in that great big old truck of his with those big wheels, four-wheel drive and high ground clearance, he uses them as short-cuts to get around. In fact, there’s an old trail that goes past his place and sort of doglegs down to the lake and comes out just below my gate. Moon Lake Road used to be part of the logging system. You wouldn’t see it if you didn’t know where to look. Grown over mostly now.”
Elgin’s voice dropped and she looked away toward the lake.
“Jim’s wife, Cissy, liked to hike the trails around here. Did it practically every morning, rain or shine. Especially the one down by the lake.
“Jim and a buddy of his came home from fishing one day and she wasn’t there. It was getting late and dark so he and his friend went out to look for her. They found her body floating face down in the shallows just below the trail.”
“I’m sorry. That must have been awful for him.”
She nodded. “It was terrible for everyone who knew her. Cissy was kind and gentle and just about the best person I ever knew. The police figure she was walking along, tripped, fell, hit her head and tumbled into the water and drowned.
“That happened the autumn after the summer I turned fifteen. Marty got a letter from his folks and he told me. I felt really bad and wrote Jim a letter and he wrote back to me telling me how much he appreciated the sympathy and how he looked forward to seeing me again in the summer. I didn’t go back the next year. Not for a lot of years as a matter of fact. Not until I bought this place.
“Funny…” she mused.
“What?”
She turned back to him then. “Oh, I don’t know. I hadn’t thought about that trail or Cissy for ages. In fact, after she died, no one ever used it anymore, including Jim. I just thought how funny he should use it to come visit me after all this time. Guess it was just quicker than going all the way around and down the road and opening the gate.
“Now, what do you want to do with the rest of the day?”
“Oh,” he answered pulling her to him, “I’m sure if we put our heads together, we can think of something.”