Her Sinful Secret (10 page)

Soon they both moved with wild fury. Her muscles trembled as the ultimate orgasm rocked her. His body contracted and in a few more strokes he groaned and
spasmed
, his semen trickling down between her cheeks.

Her knees buckled. Her lungs gasped for air. Still behind her, he planted a kiss to her spine.
  
 

* * * *

Later, they ate fish with mango and papaya salsa and drank bottled water, which a local woman from a nearby town delivered daily. They made love again by candlelight beneath mosquito netting that lent a gossamer mood to the experience.

She and Max explored the Mayan ruins, the pyramids, the haciendas and the cool, crystal-watered
cenotes
, the natural swimming holes where coral and fish collided in bursts of
colour
.

They
jeeped
for miles, passing eco-resorts that strove to avoid impacting the environment, their ecological walking paths protecting the flora and fauna indigenous to the area. They toured the northern shores, discovering stretches of undeveloped beaches, freshwater springs and coconut groves.

On the final day of their vacation, she and Max sunbathed nude on the white, sandy beaches for the last time. Lush tropical flowers scented the sea breeze caressing Wendy’s sun-warmed, naked skin.

“Are you going to sketch today?” He reached out and touched his hand to hers.

“I’m hoping I can do justice to your magnificent body when I put my pencil to paper.”

He smiled at the compliment. “I’m hoping to do justice to your magnificent body when I put my penis—”

She swatted his arm. “You are so single-minded.”

“You like me for my mind.”

“I do. You’re imaginative, provocative, considerate, caring…” She waved her hand and looked away. Her cheeks flushed as if embarrassed by her feelings.

“I love your mind.” He squeezed her hand, ducking his head to meet her eyes. His grip on her hand tightened. “And I’ve fallen in love with the rest of you too.”

“I’ve fallen, too.” She tugged on his hand and they fell into each other’s arms. When they were face to face, she said, “You’ve given me a second chance at life and love.”

“You make me feel whole.
Me
just being me seems to be enough for you.”

“More than enough.”
She rubbed herself against his cock.

Chapter Twelve

Back in the United States, life wasn’t so carnal or simplistic.

Max’s time was consumed with a financial merger, bigger and more complicated than theirs concerning the car dealership. Wendy saw little of him the first week. Her workload at the dealership, on the other hand, disappeared when she turned over the reins to the new general manager. His first act was to arrange sensitivity training for the staff, with emphasis on determining how much information people needed. She suspected it was aimed at Marsha.

The following week, Wendy pursued her art with a vengeance. She bought sketch pads, graphite,
coloured
and water-
colour
pencils. She signed up to take classes two afternoons a week and bought a book on composition.

Missing Max, she drove out to a picturesque old cemetery on the outskirts of town to sketch and occupy her mind with ideas that didn’t involve him and bed.

She felt alone and yet not alone. She’d felt someone watching her since she’d returned home. But whenever she checked, no one was there.
Silly.
She shook off the creeps.
Probably the aftermath from the carjacking.
She tried not to dwell on the frightening incident or let it affect her comings and goings. She’d only recently recaptured her gusto for life, thanks to Max, and she didn’t plan on letting the sleazy car thief rob her of that. He was in court at this very moment for his preliminary hearing. She and Max weren’t supposed to testify until tomorrow.

Out of habit, she checked her rearview mirror.
One other car, well behind hers.
She supposed roads to graveyards weren’t travelled much, except on Memorial Day and All
Hallow’s
Eve.

Once parked, she trotted up a pathway, lugging her bag and stool, stopping every few feet to adjust her bulky load until she found the ideal spot to set up her folding stool. Not yet comfortable with the idea of an easel, she pulled out the sketchpad and sat to put pencil to paper.

A tall tree, with its budding branches poking up at weird angles.
A crumbling stone wall.
Potted flowers, vibrant and alive, contrasted with the dead earth of a new grave.
She couldn’t decide what to draw.

Ling-a-ling. Ling-a-ling
.

Her pencil point broke as the unexpected, noisy phone pierced the serenity of her surroundings. Gripping the pencil between her teeth for a moment, she freed her hands to rummage through her new bag, which she’d purchased to hold all her art supplies.

“Where are you?” Max said. “I’m over at your place.”

“I was about to sketch. What are you doing at my house?” A door slammed in the distance, the sound carrying.

“I cleared my schedule to take you to dinner. I’ve missed you.” His voice was bedroom low.

Her stomach knotted with instant, sexual excitement. It had been a long time since they’d indulged in each other’s bodies. “I just got here, but I’ll be right home.” She couldn’t wait to see him, be with him again. She missed the smell of him, the touch of him,
the
taste of him.
Everything about him.

“How long?
Where are you?” He sounded eager.

“About fifteen minutes. I’m in the cemetery on the outskirts of town. It’s peaceful and pictorial here.”

“It’s remote out there.” His voice lowered with concern. “I was going to wait until I saw you, but the carjacker jumped bail and didn’t show up for court.”

“I’m leaving as we speak.” She stuffed her pad and pencil into the bag.

“Be careful,” were the last words she heard as she flipped her phone shut.
 
 

As she stuffed her phone into her satchel, she heard the crack of a tree branch in the woods surrounding the cemetery wall.

Her ears perked, alert.
Squirrels or chipmunks weren’t that noisy. She stared off into the woods. A late spring breeze blew strands of her hair across her cheek. It tickled her lips, but she didn’t swipe it away. She stood frozen, listening.

Another crackle rent the quiet, and she jumped.

A shadow flickered briefly on the far side of the stone wall. Or maybe it hadn’t. She was spooking herself, understandable given she was in the cemetery alone amongst the tombstones and the worn, final words etched on the granite slabs. She rubbed her arms where gooseflesh prickled.

From the corner of her eye, she saw a dark figure standing near the old tree, still as a statue, as if waiting.
Spooky, yes.
Odd, no.
It was probably a loved one visiting a relative or a friend. She turned away, giving the mourner privacy.

She slung her satchel over her shoulder and snatched up the folding stool, tucking it under her arm. She scampered towards the
iron gate
and her car on the other side.

A loud squeak, like rusty metal, and a sudden slam stopped her in her tracks. “Who’s there?” she called.

No answer, just the rustle of footsteps in the brush. The sound became louder, closer and faster. Her heart pounded. Panic tightened her chest. She called out again.
“Hello, anyone?”

Again, nothing.
Even the footsteps had stopped.

What did that mean?

She scanned the cemetery, seeing no one. The shadowy mourner was no longer in sight. She hurried along the path, shifting the stool and
bag
every few steps. Adjusting the strap of her tote securely on to her shoulder, she glanced at her watch. Nearly ten minutes had gone by. She’d be late. Max would worry.

She loped along as best she could, the satchel slapping her thigh until she skidded to a stop at the end of the macadam walkway. The
iron gate
was closed.

She dropped her gear and rattled the gate, but it didn’t budge. Not even a sliver so that she could squeeze through.

With no choice other than to climb over, she stuck her foot into the latticed scrollwork to heave herself upward. Lifting her other foot off the macadam, she grappled for a foothold. No such luck.

She heard heavy breathing behind her. Smelt a sour
odour
.
Garlic.
It was no animal. It was human and it wasn’t talking.

Taking this as a bad sign, she kicked her foot backward and it sank into flesh with an ugly thud.

“Oomph. “
The sound was definitely human.

As she scrambled to vault over the fence, large hands gripped her by the back of her blouse and flung her down. She landed on her back, gasping for air. Her head hurt.
And her elbow.
She rolled her eyes backward to glimpse the figure standing at her head. She
recognised
the work boots as the ones that had trampled her hand.

“I cut you a break last time, and you repaid me by fingering me.”

“I, uh, if you mean the case, I changed my mind. I’m not testifying. After all, the car was returned. No harm done.”

He gestured towards the car she drove today. “You wouldn’t object to lending me your car then?”

“Sure. Borrow it. Or we could trade for whatever you drove here.”

Probably stolen, too.
She tried to get up from her disadvantageous position. But her elbow and head ached too much.

He
laughed,
the pitch eerie and wild. She decided to stay put, hoping he’d take the vehicle and split.

“The keys are in there.” She pointed at her satchel.

He bent, his large form shadowing her, ominous. With one hand he grabbed her bag and with the other he seized her hair and yanked her to her feet.

She squeezed her eyes shut to block out the stabbing pain. It intensified as he wrapped the strands around his fist. Her scalp tightened as if it would split open. She bit her lip to stave back the tears. She sensed crying would give him reason to harm her even more.
 

“It’s been a chore following you, trying to get you alone. It ends now. You’re taking a little ride with me.” He dragged her along by her hair.

He forced the gate open with his shoulder. It let out a loud, pained creak. He’d tailed her here to end it. What was
it
?
Her life?
She gulped for air as fear replaced misery.

He pushed her towards her car and braced her back against the rear fender. “You’re riding in the trunk. Hold still and this will be over in a flash.” He pulled his fist back to cold-cock her.

Max jumped out of nowhere and blocked the man’s fist with his forearm. A loud crack, an earsplitting yelp, and the carjacker doubled over, gripping his wrist. She was pretty sure Max had broken the bones.

A siren, a flashing light bar, a cruiser.

Thank goodness Max hadn’t waited at home for her, but instead had called for help.

* * * *

This time the carjacker didn’t get bail. He got a speedy and just trial.

Afterwards, with Tyler back in town on a short break from the research project, they celebrated at Wendy’s
favourite
café, the
cosy
Italian restaurant where she’d first met Max.

“I want to thank you for keeping my mother safe. I regret not being here.” Tyler shook his head.

“No thanks necessary,” Max said, gazing into her eyes. “I don’t want to think about life without her in it.”

He took her breath away, and she’d thank him properly later. Right now, she had to reassure her son. “You should’ve been exactly where you were, pursuing your life and interests.” She patted his hand from across the table.

“I could’ve lost you.
Been orphaned.”

“He planned to kill both of us. Lure Max in with a ransom demand. Let’s talk about something pleasant.” She’d been fretted over by Max since the attack. Enough was enough.

With a nod, Tyler made the effort. “How’s the new manager working out at the dealership?”

“No complaints. The
reorganisation
is working better than expected.” She smiled over at Max.

“I predict an increase in profits next quarter.” Max’s tone sounded upbeat.

“I’ve been meaning to take back the remark I made about you and your sugar mama.” Tyler chuckled, referring to the ridiculous accusation he’d aimed at Max upon their first meeting.

Wendy laughed. Max laughed. They all laughed.

With Max, she was carefree. She had love and freedom and time to explore the depths of both. What a heady combination. What a wonderful time in her life.