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Authors: Joey W. Hill

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BOOK: If Wishes Were Horses
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* * * * *

“So, how about the movie?” he asked, as  they walked to the parking lot after the  end of the program.

“Do they offer popcorn at erotic film festivals? Milk Duds?”

“Barbarian,” he said, with affection. He laid  an arm over her shoulders, his fingers caressing the skin on her arm.  She slid away, self-conscious.

“I thought we said this wasn't a date. Seat between us, and all that.”

A flash of temper crossed his face, but she  saw him rein it in with difficulty. “So I  did,” he said. “But will you let me drive you there? It's not far, and we can come back  for your car.”

“I'll follow,” she said.

He stopped by his vehicle and slid his left hand into his pocket. “Sarah,” he said quietly. “I said I'd give you a  week to consider where you want to go on this. But it doesn't sound like you're considering. It sounds like you're trying to build a wall as fast

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as you possibly can, so at the end of a week you'll be so solidly behind it that whatever

is between us will be less than a memory.”

How could  she explain that  her defensiveness came from the fact that he kicked away every foundation stone before she could barely plant one into the ground?

“How come you haven't asked about the  status of the investigation? The realreason,” she challenged  him, before that smooth mask could settle over his expression.

“The real reason. Let's see,” he pulled out  his key fob, stabbed the  unlock button so the car chirped at them. “There are three.  One, I figured it was police business and you couldn't chat up the details with me, seeing as you think I'm involved. Two, I've already told you I know what killed  her,  but you aren't ready to talk about that. Three, when I see you, dead bodies are not what immediately comes to my mind. Unfortunately, it’s apparently what comes to the forefront of yours.”

He yanked  open the door, slid behind the  wheel. Sarah braced a hand against thehip side of her practical tailored black skirt.  She had coordinated  it with a  gold blouse,over which she had worn her badge on a gold  chain. She didn’t like wearing a gun in a school, even though she knew the absence of the sidearm always disappointed the kids.

“So, I guess you're mad now and you don't  want me to go with you to the movies.”

Justin pressed his fingers to his eyelids as if he'd just developed a pounding headache. She tried to suppress the amusement in  her face when he jerked his gaze back up to her.

“You're goading me.”

“Giving it a shot.” She shrugged. “You're too smooth, Herne. Makes me nervous, and it annoys the shit out of me.”

“I know the feeling.”

In a move she should have seen coming,  he  caught her wrist, yanked her forward so she tumbled across his lap. Sarah caught the soft fabric of the passenger seat and let out a yelp as he slapped her smartly on the ass three times and then spun her over in his arms so she was cradled in them on his thighs, the wheel pressing her in close to him. He  did  it  so  fast,  she  didn't  have  time  to  do  much  more  than  stare  at  him  before  he  waskissing her, his hand holding her jaw, keeping her still as he plunged between her lips and took over.

Her bottom tingled  from the  none-too-gentle spanking,  and  it translated to aprickling sensation between her legs that his mouth stimulated with the dexterity of his tongue against hers. She couldn't think when he kissed her like this, so she held on andmoaned softly into his mouth, clutching  his shoulder with her free hand, her otherpinned between her hip and his lower belly, her fingers latching onto his belt, hooking into his waistband.

She tasted his impatience and anger, and rather than raising the same emotions within her, it softened her, because she felt  his need, not just in the obvious place,pressing against her abused ass, but as an  emotional  hunger. While it  was that  needinstead of the physical need that kept motivating her to retreat and spar with him, to

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hold him at bay until she could get control, it was perversely those same emotions that  made her want to get closer. To enjoy feeling desired and cared for as she had at the beginning of her marriage, before it somehow  had vanished, as if it had been an illusion  all along.

She shoved at him and began to struggle, like a cat fighting its way out of a bathtub.

She was breathing hard, and  his eyes coursed in deliberate appraisal over her tight  nipples, down to her crotch  where she knew as well as he  did how wet she was. Then  he lifted his attention to her face and let her see the intensity of  those dark eyes, the  desire to pull her into them, into his body, and immerse her in all the pleasures they  promised. Her backside still stung, her lips were swollen, her breasts ached, and her  thighs  trembled. He had done it  with three swats and one kiss.  She suspected the man  could kill her with actual sex.

Or worse, destroy her heart and mess up  her senses so she had no radar left. Her radar had been damaged by her marriage and she hadn't figured out how to makerepairs yet, though she'd been sure that  getting involved with someone too soon was the wrong way to go about it.

He didn't let her scramble away. He lifted  her in those lean arms that shouldn't be so strong and scooted her over into the passenger seat.

“We'll take my car,” he said. “The theater's only a few miles away.”

He started the engine and pulled out of  the parking lot before she could think of anything intelligent to say, and then she didn't know what to say at  all.

“So,  how
 
is
 
the investigation going?”

She shot a glance at him, saw the smile flirting about his lips, and her tension eased.

“Jerk.”

He laughed, picked up her hand and  kissed it, a  quick brush of  lips, then held  it throughout the short trip.

She was content to let him do just that, and wondered at his ability to return them to an even balance with a few words, when  he was equally adept at yanking the floor out from beneath her feet.

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Chapter 12

The film festival was being held in a  restored 1950’s movie house downtown. There was a glittering chandelier in the front lobby, illuminating a tapestry carpet and wallspapered in rich reds and golds. The concession stand offered kettle corn as well asbuttered, and a selection of old time candies  in clear glass containers with metal scoops to deposit one cup servings into  small brown paper bags. Chocolate-coated raisins asbig as grapes, maple nut clusters and Jordan  Almonds all caught her eye, but it was theperfect cubes of chocolate covered caramel she could imagine melting on her tongueeven before  Justin bought her a bagful. He  waved away her money and got her a frosty fountain coke as well.

The ushers dressed in black tie formal wear  escorted them into the theater. As they stepped down the aisle, Sarah felt Justin’s  hand at the small of her back, a gentle possession and protectiveness that her husband had never offered. As if because she was a woman who could protect herself physically she didn't need  to feel protected emotionally by the warmth  and strength of a man.

They were  shown to two seats along the aisle, and the usher courteously encouraged them to make it known if anything interfered with their  movie-going experience. The seats had deep red soft  cushions, and the screen was covered by a heavy velvet curtain with gold tassels.  Classical music mixed with familiar movie soundtrack scores played quietly over the hushed murmurings of other attendees. The theater was filling up rapidly, and as far as Sarah could tell, it was going to be a full house. Most attendees were well-dressed pairings, coming in groups or as a single couple.

“It's crowded,” she said.

“You sound surprised.” He chuckled. “Sex  is legal and it feels good, Sarah, to men  and women. There aren't enough venues that  make women feel  comfortable to indulge  their sensual curiosity. This is one of them. Ergo, a crowd.”

“I guess.” She settled next to Justin in the dim light. She immediately fished in the  bag in his hand and took one of the caramels.  “I haven’t really been to any kind of  movie in years.”

“Why not?”

“Mmm…” She didn’t answer right away, closing her eyes as the outer chocolate  coating melted upon contact with her tongue. She bit  down, mixing the flavor of the  soft caramel with its lingering taste. “Oh,  God. I might have found something better  than sex.” She cracked open  a lid, grinned. “Almost.”

“That’s a relief.” He chuckled. “You  don’t like going to  movies?”

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“Well, I used to. It’s just not like  this anymore. It's rude people, cell phones, twenty  advertisements instead of previews before  the movie, dirty floors  and worse bathrooms because the employees could care  less. I got  tired of it, and stopped going. Thirty bucks to listen to  some inconsiderate moron behind you talk about his tax returns to his buddies throughout the whole movie.”

He nodded. “I discovered this place last year. They have  to struggle to keep  going,but it's always a pleasant experience. The ushers are here to make sure people don't actthat way, so don't worry, you shouldn’t have to draw your gun to keep people settled down. You can just enjoy the movie.” He touched her chin with a finger. “And the company. I liked  your  talk on drugs. I plan  to go  home  and  throw  away all my heroin and needles tonight.”

She snorted. “Yeah, I can tell you're the type with railroad tracks up your arms.  Glad to put you back on the straight and narrow.”

“I'm glad you came tonight,” he murmured.

“You didn't  tell the usher to leave a seat between us.”

“Well, it was crowded, and you couldn't reach the caramels.”

“I could if you'd let me hold them,” she retorted. “I'll make you go buy me another bag.”

“I'll buy you ten more  if you want,” he  smiled down at her, “and then hold your head while  you throw  them up.”

She flushed, looked away. “You need to stop it.”

“Stop what, Sarah? Enjoying you? Desiring to pleasure you, make you laugh? I like you, very much.” He leaned closer, spoke with his nose pressed against her hair. “I  desire you, I want you,  I crave you like a drug. You didn't tell the kids what to do about  that.” The tip of his tongue touched the delicate skin just behind her outer ear and she shivered. “I don’t think 'Just say no' is going to be a very effective method for me.”

“Quit it.”

“No. Every time I'm around you, I get lost. All I want is to plunge into you, be absorbed in  you, drown in you.” He caught her chin before she could pull away, and  whispered the next words into the shell of  her ear. “That's not a line, Sarah. No one's ever made me want to open myself up like that. I thought when I finally met her it  would be a slow thing, some gradual attraction or  friendship that would  turn into something more. I saw you, and  I got it all  at  once. The attraction, the lust, the need to  know you, be your friend, earn your respect.  It's damned unsettling, but I’ll  be damned  if I’ll let it become some high  burn infatuation that will use  up its  fuel  too fast. I want it  to last, for a long, long time.”

Now his fingers eased so she could pull back, stare  up at him in the dim light  provided by  the brass wall sconces and overhead chandeliers. His countenance was  alive with the emotions he had expressed,  and they were drawing her in, like sirens calling her toward the rocks hidden in  the pounding surf off a beach.

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There was one free seat to her left. She got up, moved over, moved  her coke over tothat seat’s cup holder. Justin watched her,  his dark eyes like lagoons cloaked in themysterious shadows of ancient  trees. “What are you doing?”

“Making sure the fuel  doesn’t burn too fast,”  she said. “And retreating, a little bit.”

“Because you want to, or because you're scared?”

“Because I'm scared.” She couldn't  be less than honest with him.

“Okay,” he  said after a moment, though she saw that tic of muscle along the line of  his jaw. He settled back and held out his  hand, his knuckles resting on the cushioned  seat between them that was still warm from her body.

Sarah considered his open palm, the lines  that creased the skin, the welcoming  strength it offered. She laid her hand in his,  felt his fingers close  around it as the theater  darkened and the curtain rolled back  with a rhythmic clacking noise.

Justin leaned over, tugged her so she came  close enough he could speak to her  without disturbing the others. “This film  is a montage of images and music, with  storylines interspersed. It's about an inundation  of the senses, not a plot line. It's supposed to be director Marie Gerault's finest erotic piece to date.”

She felt a slight pressure against her leg and looked down. He was holding out the  small bag of caramels, giving them  to her to  hold. Sarah positioned  the bag between her  thighs  so she could use her one  hand to dip  in, and kept her other hand linked in the  firm grasp of his on the seat between them.

He had  on cologne tonight,  the smell of  a well-groomed man, a man who  had taken  care to be pleasing to her. With that and  his two tickets, it was obvious he had known she’d taken Eric’s place on the speakers’  list. She drew a deep breath and let that  thought and those scents fill her. The first strains of the film score began.

BOOK: If Wishes Were Horses
6.24Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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