Immortally Yours (4 page)

She rolled her eyes. “Typical man. Obsessed with sex—blamed
everything on his mother and he specialized in dream misinterpretation.”

“I think you mean dream interpretation.”

“Uh-uh. I mean dream MIS-interpretation. You know what he
thought of my swimming upstream dreams? He thought it represented sex and the
womb and how when I was a zygote I had wanted to get away from the entrance to
the birth canal whenever my parents had sex. That I was traumatized from the
unconscious memory of my father poking my mother.”

Colin snorted. “Are you sure that’s what he said?”

“Maybe I remembered it wrong, but I know for sure it had
something to do with my mother and sex. I was bored and it was a long time
ago.”

“How could you be bored listening to one of the most
brilliant minds of the twentieth century?”

“Brilliant? Really? There must have been a helluva lot of
stupid people in the twentieth century, then.”

“Where did you meet him?”

“In London. He followed me into an apothecary’s shop. Said
he was in town for a lecture. He spent half of our time together complaining
that nobody understood him and the other half of the time demonstrating why.”

Colin looked crushed. “I see.”

“Don’t tell me he was your boyhood hero or something.”

“No, not as far back as boyhood. And I understand that he
got some things wrong, but without him, my profession wouldn’t exist and there
might very well be many more unhappy people.”

She sighed. “Okay. I get it.”

“Where did you pick up modern expressions?”

“Television. When TV sets first came out, I couldn’t wait to
get one. I watched the department store TVs for a while and when they began
branching out into a variety of programming, I decided it was worth it. So I
not only bought a TV, I bought rabbit ears to get better reception. It’s what
helped me stay sane to this point. Of course, better televisions have come out
since then. I love TV. Some of the old game shows were such fun. If it weren’t
for the weird language and letters, I’d probably have moved to Japan. They have
great game shows.”

“So you watch a lot of TV?”

“Yes and I make no apologies for it. What would you do with
this much time on your hands?”

“I’m not sure. Since I love the outdoors and experiencing
new things, I imagine I’d travel and see the world.”

“Yeah, that’s nice too.”

“But you prefer television?”

“Why wouldn’t I? I can see the world from right here in my
American living room. And I don’t get cold or wet when viewing the summit of
Mount Everest on TV.”

“So how did you get to Washington state? It’s a far cry from
New York.”

“I saw a program on the Great Northwest. Everything seemed
so majestic and awe inspiring, I couldn’t wait to get here and see it for
myself. No one told me it rained all the friggin’ time.”

“So maybe your meaning in life could come from the
television industry. You’re beautiful enough to appear on camera.”

“Can’t. Immortal, remember? No birth certificate. Even if I
had one, I’d have to change the century. I doubt there are other immortals on
TV. Although, I’ve always wondered about Mary Hart.”

Dinner didn’t resolve Lizette’s problem but Colin had to
give her something concrete to pursue. To let her continue to think about
suicide could have devastating consequences, so he’d agreed to come into her
apartment before going home. Okay…there was more to it than pure altruism. He’d
like a chance to make out with her—or more.

He sat on the couch and glanced around the living room while
she hung up their coats. He had been so blown away by her appearance when he’d
picked her up that the room behind her faded. Now, she was no less beautiful,
but he wasn’t distracted and could register the rest of his surroundings.

Her place reminded him of her. Petite, feminine and
old-fashioned with a hint of modern minimalism. A large TV dominated one corner
of the room. She’d said she watched a lot of television, so that was no
surprise, but she had placed a lace placemat that matched the curtains on top
of it and a vase of flowers on top of that. She had obviously made it the focal
point of the room. The sofa he relaxed upon was overstuffed and comfortable
with a large red-and-pink floral pattern exploding all over it. A matching
chair sat at an angle and both faced the TV. A contemporary-looking coffee
table and side table painted light green completed the eclectic set. Overall,
the room had a light, airy feel.

“Can I get you anything? Coffee? A glass of wine, maybe?”

“No, thanks. I don’t need a thing.” As far as solving her
dilemma went, he had still come up with zilch so he merely extended his arm,
making a cozy place in which she could curl up. Even if her problems couldn’t
be resolved immediately, the least he could do was make their date
enjoyable—and ask for another.

She smiled when she saw his invitation and slid into the
open space, settling right against his ribs. No wonder some folks believed that
Eve came from Adam’s rib. His Eve felt warm and right cuddled next to him.

Uh-oh. An uncomfortable silence.
They hadn’t had one
all evening. He was about to panic when Lizette gave him the perfect excuse not
to say anything at all. She touched his jaw and turned his head to face her and
then she kissed him. He responded by taking hold of her shoulder and drawing
her full, soft bottom lip between his—then her equally delicious top lip.
Kissing her was a little piece of heaven.

Her arms slipped behind his back and she moved closer to
him, settling her full breasts against his chest. One thing was for certain—she
had overcome whatever social expectations dictated men must make the first
move.

Still, he liked to be in control. He cupped the back of her
head and slanted his mouth over hers to deepen the kiss. Her breasts rose
against him and heat invaded his body. He wanted to pick her up, throw her over
his shoulder and take her to bed—regardless of how wrong it was for first date behavior.
No…this type of thinking was definitely
not
helping him control himself.

He suddenly remembered how many times she had used her
feminine attributes to get men to take care of her and a jolt of alarm shot
through him.

He broke the kiss and leaned back.

“Is something wrong?”

“No. No, nothing’s wrong. I just…” What now? What could he
tell her? That he didn’t want to get trapped into supporting her? He was
getting ahead of himself. Nothing was so neurotic as assuming someone’s
ulterior motives and projecting disastrous outcomes far into the future from a
tiny scrap of intuition.

She lowered her lashes and it was hard to make out her
expression. At last she murmured, “I always thought I was a fairly good
kisser.”

Astonished, he placed his finger under her chin and tipped
her face up. “You are!” Her blue eyes had turned slate-gray. How could he put
the sparkle back? “That’s not why I stopped. I just…”

After another long pause, she let out a frustrated sigh.
“You said that before. Obviously there’s something you want to tell me but
won’t.”

“No, it’s not you. It’s my own stuff. Pay no attention to
the mixed-up man on your couch.”

Her eyes widened. “Mixed up? You? What do you have to be
mixed up about? Are you from another century too?”

He laughed. “No, I’m very much a modern guy. But I’m having
the hardest time figuring you out.”

“I’m not paying you to do that anymore.”

“I know, but—”
Aw, fuck it.

He leaned down and captured her mouth in a long, sensuous
kiss that had them both squirming. He pulled her firmly against his chest and
took deeper possession of her mouth. One moment devouring, the next, teasing. A
long clinch on the couch was what they obviously both wanted and what he would
give her—without continuously spoiling it.

Their tongues met in a sensual dance. He felt her breasts
rise and fall rapidly against his chest and he was sorely tempted to take it
further. But that would be too much, too soon. Making out and perhaps a little
petting was one thing but more than that was out of the question.

This delicate woman was an expert kisser. His cock grew
quickly and pressed against his pants. When he thought about how much
experience she must have had her expertise made sense but the idea of so many,
many men knowing her gave him pause. Not for the usual health reasons, but it
caused an utterly illogical visceral reaction.

The sudden jealousy infused the kiss with more fervor. His
hands seemed to move by themselves. One traveled up her back, twining his
fingers in her hair, while the other headed down, below the dip in her lower
back where a slight dimple heralded the start of her lush bottom. He caught
himself as he cupped and squeezed her ass cheeks. The raw, primal male in him
again demanded he scoop her up, carry her to the bedroom and have her for
dessert. He hadn’t felt the irrational pull of lust in a long time and this was
the first time he felt as if he couldn’t control it.

He leaned away, slowly, so she wouldn’t think there was
something wrong, but he had to get a hold of himself. It was only then he realized
that her strong fingers were groping his slacks and were headed to his crotch.

“We’d better slow this down.”

“Why?”

“Well…” he paused and thought about it. Why indeed? Slowing
down was the last thing his body wanted to do. “We haven’t known each other
very long. We should probably talk and get to know each other better, then see
how it goes.”

“Oh. I think I understand.” She pulled out of his arms and
stood, leaving a cold spot where heat and passion had swirled only moments
before.

“I need to change my clothes.”

He nodded and tried to regain the control he relied upon.
Hopefully, she’d return in sweatpants or old battered jeans and an oversized
flannel shirt, or, better yet, coveralls and a chastity belt. Maybe he wouldn’t
jump her if he could pretend she was some kind of butch lumberjack.
Yeah,
like that would happen.

He had to think of something they could talk about when she
came back. The obvious answer was to continue the conversation they’d been
having in the restaurant and in the car. He should try to keep her talking
until they hit upon something meaningful that she might like to do.
Think,
Colin, think.

When he sensed she had reappeared in the doorway, deep
concentration kept him from looking up right away. Then Lizette cleared her
throat.

He glanced over, did a double take and his heart skipped a
beat. “Holy mackerel!”

Lounging against the door jam and smiling was Lizette,
wearing only a black negligee of the sheerest chiffon. He could see right
through to her luscious full breasts and dark mound beneath. His cock jerked in
his pants. Fantasies of grabbing her and throwing her to the floor so he could
grope every inch of juicy woman ran unchecked through his mind.

“I look like a fish to you?”

“You…” He shook his head. “No. You look gorgeous but I think
you’d better cover yourself up a little more.”

“Why? You don’t like what you see?”

“Of course I like what I see. But that’s the problem. I—I
can’t promise to behave like a gentleman with you looking like that.”

She glanced down at herself and seemed puzzled. Did she
really not know what she was doing? Did he have to spell it out for her? “I
think your subconscious may be trying to—”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Colin. More psychobabble?” She
strolled over to him.

“I’m only pointing out that you may not be aware of what
you’re subconsciously projecting by wearing such a revealing—”

“Will you shut the fuck up?”

“Now don’t be rude.”

“I can’t help being rude. I’m French.”

“Still…”

“Then shut up and fuck me.”

I guess she is conscious of what she’s doing.
In
that case, it wouldn’t be taking advantage…would it?
He sat frozen,
deliberating what do to, until she jumped into his lap, curled her arms around
his neck and said, “Let’s go. The bedroom’s that way,” then she tipped her head
in the right direction.

Colin didn’t know whether to laugh, run, or let his animal
nature prowl a little. His dick seemed to be doing the thinking for him. He
lifted her in his arms and carried her to the bedroom, then laid her on the
double bed and crawled over her. With his cock erect, he angled it to rest
between her legs and kissed her, hungrily.

She reached down, cupped his ass and yanked him up so that
his erection made closer contact with her pussy, then began to grind her hips
into him.

“Holy shit, Lizette. Stop that.”

“What?” She repeated the grinding motion as he groaned.
“This?”

“Yes, that. It’s too soon for that.”

“Don’t you want to have fun?”

“Of course I do. But it’s fun just being with you. We don’t
have to make love to have fun.”

“Of course we don’t have to…but we want to.” She reached
down and stroked his cock. “I know you want to.”

Colin sat bolt upright. “Cut it out, Lizette.”

She struck the mattress with her fist. “What is
wrong
with you?”

“What do you mean?”

“
Mon dieu
! I’m trying to seduce you. I’ve never had
any trouble seducing a man before. Why won’t you seduce?”

Colin barely suppressed his amusement. She was cute as hell,
especially when she was angry and butchering the English language. But that was
part of the problem. She probably knew it and had used her cuteness with many
men before as a “courtesan”.

He flopped down beside her, dragged her into his arms and
held her tight. “Please understand, Lizette. I’m not ready to commit to any
woman right now.”

“Who’s talking about commitment? I just want to fuck.”

Colin took in a deep breath and tried to be dispassionate as
he pondered the situation. Of course he wanted to make love to her. He wanted
to make her scream and beg for more. She was so goddamn sexy he practically
drooled every time he looked at her. So what
was
his problem?