Matronly Duties (6 page)

Howard is grinning like a Cheshire cat. He leans in close, and I think he is going to kiss me again but he stops short. “Tell me something, anything about you.”

“Like what? I’m boring. I sleep and attend classes. That is the sum total of everything I do.”

“Fine. Ask me something then. Anything you’re curious about?”

Taking the opportunity given to me, I ask the one question I’ve been dying to know the answer to. “Okay . . . are you a traditionalist because of your parents, or do you really believe as they do?”

Howard chuckles and pulls back to look me in the eye. “I really believe. I have seen too much not to.” His happy expression falls.

“What do you mean?”

“Well . . .” he says, an I’m-thinking-hard scowl on his face. “Bethanie, I know you have lived a sheltered life, and you probably get to see the best of the government because you will be one of them and they take care of their own. However, for the rest of us, that isn’t the case. They say they are doing everything for the good of all citizens, but there are too many citizens going without for that to be the truth.” His voice has taken on an angry tone.

“But why?” I ask. “The government central stores are almost full again. Sure, there have been some lean years, but there should be more than enough to go around.”

“That they are, but what they allocate to the outlying areas is not enough. And those lean years you are talking about saw many in the outskirts die of starvation.”

I gasp. “That can’t be true. There was never anything in the news. I don’t understand,” I say, perplexed as to why there are citizens going without.

Where we were almost sitting on top of one another moments ago, Howard has now retreated. “I do. It comes down to beliefs. If you don’t believe as they do, then you go without. They think they can force us to change our beliefs by starving us.”

I shake my head, refusing to believe what he says is true. However, if it is, all the cases of theft by the Trads make more sense.

“I know this is hard to hear, but what motivation do I have to lie? You’ve seen the slums for yourself, Bethanie. We sat together in the empty food store.”

I wipe the tears from my face. Howard puts his arm around my shoulder and pulls me close. “I realise the circumstances in which we’ve met are not the best, and tomorrow you’re going to go back to your life. We will probably never see one another again. All I ask is you don’t forget everything you’ve seen and learned while you’ve been here . . . or about me.”

“I could never forget you,” I whisper, looking at my lap. My chest is tight, like a weight is threatening to crush it. The idea of never seeing him again leaves me sick to my stomach.

Howard places a hand on my cheek, waiting until I meet his gaze. He’s grinning from ear to ear, and his eyes are almost sparkling. He tucks my hair behind my ear and leans in so slowly, the action so subtle, it’s not even clear he’s moving at first. His eyes stayed locked on mine the entire time, and when his lips meet mine, I whimper as heat flushes through me.

He doesn’t say anything, just continues to kiss me. I enjoy the feel of his soft lips. Not having any idea what I should be doing, I try to follow his lead. As our lips meld, his hand slides up to the back of my neck, pulling me closer. I copy his gesture, loving the silky feel of his hair. Goose bumps cover my skin from head to toe as he skilfully parts my lips. The tingling feeling that’s been dancing around in my stomach moves lower as I lose myself in the sensations. Just when I think nothing can feel any better, his tongue gently brushes mine. Some primitive instinct kicks in and I pull him closer, wanting to feel his body next to me. Sitting beside him is a little awkward, though, so I lean in as near as I can.

One minute we’re sitting next to one another, kissing passionately, the next Howard is lying on his back with me half on top of him. It’s a mystery to me how we got here, but Howard is laughing.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing. I just lost my balance.”

“Oh.” I try to move off him, but he puts his hands on my waist, holding me in place. “I’m going to squish you.”

“No, you’re not. Not even slightly. I like you this close to me.”

My cheeks heat, and I’m not even sure why. Howard puts his hand on my thigh and tugs so I’m no longer half on him and half on the ground. Now I’m all on him, straddling his hips. It’s strange being on top of someone else. Parts of my body that have never been touched by anyone but me are now touching him. I wiggle around a little trying to get comfortable.

“Whoa.” Howard groans, stilling me with his hands on my hips.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean—” I move to sit beside him again, but his grip tightens and he moans like he is in pain.

“It’s okay. Just stay still for a second, will ya?”

“I’m sorry,” I say again, feeling utterly foolish.

“Oh, Beth, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“What did you call me?”

“Beth,” he says again.

“I like it. People only ever call me Bethanie, or Ms Greene, and it all sounds so formal.”

“Well, if you like it, then I’ll have to keep using it,
Beth
.” The sound of his name for me rolling off his tongue does funny things to me.

I smile, and his mouth is on mine again, kissing me with a fervour I feel all the way in the tips of my toes. His lips are soft and he tastes so good I want to feast on him all day. When his hips shift beneath mine, a bolt of energy the likes of which I’ve never felt before courses through me and I gasp at the shock of it. Subconsciously, I mimic him. A quiet moan slips from my lips as a pleasurable ache develops between my legs.

Howard shudders beneath me and pulls away again. “Beth, you can’t keep doing that.”

“Why?”

“Didn’t they teach you the mechanics of sex at that fancy school of yours?”

“They taught us about fornication.”

Oh my, is that what we are doing?
I thought it would be like what that man tried to do to me. I thought it would be something terrible. It should be terrible.
Shouldn’t it?

Howard’s hands are on both sides of my head, steadying my gaze on him. The frown on his face is etched with concern. “What did they teach you?”

I try to move away, but when Howard holds me in place, I close my eyes and answer him. “A man has a penis, and a woman has a vagina, and when the man’s penis gets hard, he sticks it in the woman’s vagina, and then they are fornicating.”

A shudder works its way down my spine as flashes of how close it came to fornication the night I was attacked play in my mind.

“Oh, Beth.” Howard wraps his arms around me and holds me tight. “Shh . . .” His hands run soothing circles across my back, and I sink into his chest. “What you’re thinking about, what you told me, that’s not sex. That’s not what it’s supposed to be like. Sex is supposed to be mutual, and it’s supposed to feel good.”

I blink, trying to stop the few traitorous tears that threaten to fall.

“Real men, good men don’t force themselves on a woman.”

I lift my head from his chest to look at him. “Really?”

I can see the sincerity in his expression. “Yes, really. Only cowards hurt women. I would never hurt you like that.”

“So before?”

He chuckles. “Yes, that was an example of the good, how it should feel when you’re with someone willingly.”

“It did feel very good.” I want nothing more than to experience more of the good, leaving no room for the bad in my memories.

I lean in closer, hoping to entice Howard into another kiss. He doesn’t hesitate.

As our mouths and tongues dance, the hardness that I felt before returns. Wanting to feel the pleasurable sensation again, I rock my hips in a to-and-fro motion. Though not as strong as before, it’s still good.

“Beth,” Howard growls, stopping our kiss.

“I’m sorry. I just wanted to experience a little more of the good.”

“I can do that.” He brings my lips back to his.

Howard wraps his arms around me and sits up again with me still in his lap. His kisses leave my lips and start down my neck towards the collar of my jumper. I’m not sure where he is going, but when I feel him slide his hands under my shirt, I am a little nervous.

“Is this all right?” he asks, gently caressing my stomach with his hands.

“I think so.”

“Tell me if it’s not. I’ll stop.”

Once he is sure I am okay with what he is doing, he moves his hands up my chest. I tense as he gets closer to my breasts. My body is warring with itself. On one hand, the feel of his fingers on my skin is extremely pleasant. On the other, a part of me thinks this is wrong.

As if sensing my unease, he changes direction. He slides his hands to my back and runs them up and down my spine. For what seems like the longest time, I get lost in kissing him. Then I rock my hips forward and find his hardness again. Howard groans, but I can tell it’s not an unhappy sound. He presses into me every time I grind against him, chasing the pleasure our movements are causing.

The feeling is overwhelming and for a moment I panic, wondering if I should fight it. I’m not sure what will happen if I let it take over.

“Relax, Beth, let go. I promise it will be fine.”

I hesitate for a second and then relax like he tells me to.

At first nothing changes. Howard continues feathering my neck with kisses, holding me so tightly against him that I can feel every breath he takes. The pleasure continues to build as I thread my fingers through his hair, holding on like my life depends on it. Then it happens, a detonation inside me.

Waves of ecstasy hurtle through my body, making me cry out. My head falls to his chest. I continue rocking my hips, not willing to lose this ecstasy. There is a hitch in Howard’s breathing followed by a deep rumbling moan. He stills, and I follow his cue. The pleasure slowly ebbs away, leaving me with a happy satisfied feeling. I sink into Howard’s embrace.

“Are you okay?” Howard kisses me on the crown of my head.

“Yes, more than.”

We sit quietly catching our breath. It takes a while for my body to return to normal, for my breathing to slow, and my blood to stop pumping wildly. It reminds me of how I feel after I’ve been for a good, hard run. When I think I have use of all my faculties again, I lean back and meet Howard’s gaze. I suspect the ridiculous grin on his face mirrors my own. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He looks at his watch and his smile drops a little.

“Come on, we need to return or you’re going to miss your ride.”

Disappointment hits me. I don’t want our interlude to be over, but then this was never going to be long-term. It can’t be. He lifts me out of his lap, stands, and offers me his hand to help me up. Once I am standing, he grabs a bottle of water out of his backpack and offers it to me, then packs away the blanket.

Taking my hand, he leads us out of the cavern and through the catacombs.

When we arrive at the doors to the city, Howard stops me. “Beth, there’s something I need to tell you before we go back out there.”

The scowl on his face has me concerned. “What is it?”

“I wanted you to know . . .” He runs his hands through his hair, tugging on it.

“What?”

“I . . . I had a really wonderful time with you today.” A giant smile graces his features, making him look beautiful.

“I did, too.”

He kisses me quickly and then we push through the doors.

When the lights of the city meet my eyes, I am momentarily blinded—and a little sad that I will be returning to my life of duty.

Yet, as I walk amongst the deteriorated buildings of the outskirts, I realise I may be able to help the people who live here when I do return. We are about halfway to the Jameses’ when a loud boom echoes from behind me. I whirl around to see what happened, but Howard yells, “Get down.”

He throws his body over mine like a protective barrier and we tumble to the ground. “Are you okay?”

I nod, too scared to speak. Looking around, dozens of armed men are approaching from all sides. There’s no way we can fight them off.

Howard pulls me to my feet, and I wonder what his plan is. “When I tell you to,” he whispers in my ear, “run.”

I’m about to tell him I’m not leaving him when he steps away from me and yells.

“Run!”

I don’t even have a chance to move before the men surround him and he is writhing on the ground in agony, electricity from a Taser coursing through him.

“Howard!”

I scream as strong arms grab me from behind. My fight-or-flight response kicks in, and I try to wriggle free. “Help!”

“It’s okay, Ms Greene,” a familiar voice says. “You’re safe now.”

“George?” I stop moving, hoping I’m not making a mistake.

“Yes, Ma’am.” He lets me go, and I turn to face him.

“What’s going on?”

“We are rescuing you, Ma’am, from the terrorist.”

“Howard’s not a terrorist! He rescued me from my kidnappers.” I turn to where Howard is on the ground, still screaming in agony. “Stop it! You’re hurting him.”