Proposition (10 page)

“A winter coat, and a dress,” she admitted at last. “You really want to see it?” she gave him a doubtful look.

“Sure,” he said, sitting on the bed and drying his hair with a towel.

“Nice.” He touched the coat when she took it out. “The color suits you. But I’m not sure about this dress.”

Amy frowned. “Why? I like it. It’s good for work, elegant.” She stood in front of the mirror and put the dress up to her.

“It’s too long, you should wear something shorter,” he announced.

Amy’s eyes narrowed and she snorted. “If you imagine you’ll get me into a mini skirt...”

“No, no, but something ending here.” He touched her leg just above the knee.

Amy frowned. “I don’t have legs for such a length.”

“What’s wrong with your legs?” He eyed her legs, clad in the smart slacks she wore to work today. “They’re just fine.”

“They’re short,” she snapped.

“Of course they’re short, how can they be long, if you’re short,” he reasoned.

She rolled her eyes. “Very funny. Only tall girls with long sleek slim legs look good in shorter dresses.”

“That’s nonsense,” he cried. “Your legs are not the longest but very shapely, with nice soft thighs, slim calves and cute little feet,” he murmured, his eyes on her lower body. “You should go tomorrow and buy yourself something nice and shorter.”

“No, I don’t need another dress,” Amy pronounced defiantly, trying to hide how much his comment about her body affected her. “Besides I’ve spent too much already. I’m feeling pretty guilty about it.”

Jake frowned and pulled her to him. “Amy, I want you to buy yourself whatever you want,” he whispered tenderly, combing the wisps of hair away from her face. “You don’t have to economize. We can afford for you to have all the nice things you want, without feeling guilty about it.”

He must have felt her stiffen in his arms, so he pushed her from him at arm’s length and tilted up her chin.” You haven’t used that credit card I gave you, have you? You’re still paying for everything from your own salary, aren’t you?”

She bit her lower lip, averting her eyes.

“Is it so hard to accept anything from me?” he demanded angrily.

“Lower your voice, we’re not alone,” she hissed. “I have accepted enough from you, you helped my father, you don’t need to buy me clothes.”

She saw that he was angry, and he wanted to say something more, but he didn’t. “I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”

From the corner of her eye she saw him as he pulled the coverlet away and slipped in the bed with one of his magazines.

She shrugged her shoulders, collected fresh underwear, and moved to the bathroom. She took a long relaxing bath before she returned to the bedroom. The room was in semi darkness, lit only by a small lamp on her side of the bed. Jake looked like he was sleeping soundly already. It was clear he wasn’t in the mood to talk to her. Slipping under the covers on her side, she turned the light down, and the room went completely dark.

Jake lay on his side as far away from her as it was possible, which was so strange because he always kept so close to her. Suddenly she felt bereft. She’d already managed to get used to his close presence at night.

With a sigh, she rolled toward him, and cuddled up to his back.

“You’re sleeping?” she asked in a small voice.

“Yes,” his very clear reply came.

Her hand draped over his waist and she stroked his chest through his cotton t-shirt.

“I didn’t want to upset you,” she whispered, but he didn’t respond. She snuggled closer, and involuntarily pressed her breasts into his back. “If it’s so important to you, you can take me shopping one day to buy me something.”

He rolled onto his back. “I want you to use the credit cards I gave you.”

“Ok, I will,” she relented. “But just for buying food and other household expenses.”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” she agreed. To her quiet relief he drew her to him, pulled her partially onto him, tucked her head under his chin, and his warm hand rested on her hip. Amy closed her eyes and relaxed in the comfort of his arms.

Suddenly they both jerked up as the sound of a loud bang was heard in the corridor.

“A burglar?” Amy whispered, from behind Jake’s arm.

“Stay here,” he ordered.

He walked to the door, opened it quietly, and walked into a corridor.

He returned after a while. “What was that?” Amy asked, her eyes big.

“The door’s locked and the hall’s empty,” he whispered, slipping under the covers, and drawing her back into his arms. “But your vase is trashed to pieces.”

Amy grimaced. “The green one? I loved it.”

“I cleaned up the larger pieces, but don’t go out without your slippers in the morning. I think that our guest was looking for her way to the bathroom again.”

“No,” Amy breathed in disbelief.

Jake only nodded. “Yes. But I think she won’t try, again.” He kissed her forehead, tucking her into his arms. “Go to sleep.”

Chapter Nine

It was Wednesday morning and the fifth week of her marriage. Amy sat at the table, trying very hard not to stare at her husband when he was devouring the pancakes she’d just made for him. The newspaper in one hand, the fork in the other, he didn’t look at her, clearly entirely occupied with the content of his plate and the article in the newspaper.

It was all so very strange, she concluded taking a bite of her own pancake. For the last few weeks she’d felt definitely ...well happy. As happy as she’d rarely been in the past. Who would have thought that? When she’d agreed to this marriage she’d thought she condemned herself to two long years of misery, a life with a total stranger, some cold bastard, some weirdo. But obviously her dark scenarios had proved to be very wrong, and very fast too, so far at least.

It was hard...no, it was impossible to be unhappy with a man who was constantly so good to her. Contrary to her previous, very rare boyfriends, Jake seemed to be focused entirely on her, and not on himself. From the start, she’d been absolutely determined to keep her distance, and only tolerate him for her father’s sake. However, how could any woman stay indifferent when a guy was invariably kind and attentive, never missing an occasion to touch her or say something nice to her? Wanting it or not she became more and more receptive to his attentions.

She presumed that part of the attraction was that she at last had someone to take care of. Even as a little girl, she’d loved playing house. Despite the fact she’d still been at school, she’d enjoyed running the house for her father and brother after her mother had left them. She’d lavished her attention on them, until her father married Claire. Then she’d felt that she needed to move out. Now, her nurturing instincts could bloom properly again.

She enjoyed waiting for Jake with dinner, knowing he would come back tired and exhausted, but upon seeing her he would smile. It was so nice to feel needed and appreciated, to feel the man’s, dare she say, adoring eyes following her everywhere. Sometimes she felt it was a dream that she would awaken from most cruelly one day. But the next day would come without disturbance and she would again wake up in Jake’s arms.

On a more domestic level, as a flat mate, Jake Barry wasn’t that bad either. Never having lived with a man before, she didn’t have much material for comparison, but for sure he was much less messy than her own brother. He didn’t help much with the housework, apart from insisting to carry the groceries. Not that she minded, not really. She liked to clean everything on her own, secretly thinking no one could do it as well as she. She’d been forced to teach him to lower the toilet lid, and he still tended to forget about it from time to time. But she’d often heard it to be typical for men, so she showed understanding. The thing she really appreciated was that he left the bathroom spotless after using it. An even nicer thing was that he seemed to be constantly surprised that she cooked for him or did anything for him. One time when he came back from work, and saw her ironing his shirt, he was so grateful she thought, any moment, he’d kneel and thank her for that. He seemed to really value her efforts even the smallest things, which she did for him.

For his part, he took care of her as well. Despite his very busy schedule he’d found time to take her to a nice restaurant and to the movies, three times so far. And when she finished late on Tuesdays and Thursdays he always picked her up. Laura laughed that her husband should buy him a beer, having all these evening free, thanks to Jake. She also noticed he made the effort to take an interest in things that were important to her. One time he even went with her to see one of the houses. He hadn’t been very helpful with that, because when asked about his opinion he’d said that the house looked good and that they could buy it if she liked it. After that, Amy concluded that purchasing a house was not important to him except for one condition; that it had a spare garage to store his sports car. It was her decision to choose a house in which to live.

Unavoidably her condo was becoming more masculine in character. There were his toiletries in the bathroom, and some sports and financial magazines lying everywhere. And there was a TV. The day after she’d told him that she hadn’t owned one, she returned from work and on walking into the living room she stopped in tracks. Some furniture had been moved aside, pictures that hung on the wall had been removed, and there was a huge, flat plasma TV on the wall.

For the first few moments, she just stared at it, mouth wide open. The TV certainly didn’t match well with her furniture and generally the entire design of the room. It was too big and too modern, too shiny and generally out of place there. She made a mental note to the list of things desirable in the new house, a separate place that could be turned into a kind of TV room. She even considered asking him to remove it, after all he hadn’t asked her whether she wanted it in the first place. But he seemed to be so happy to have it. He’d explained all the functions, the number of pixels, and stressed that there were over three hundred channels, and many of them which he ordered especially for her. He was so excited about this, beaming like a little boy who got his first football or a bike that she conceded to the idea of having a fifty-inch flat screen hanging on the wall in her living room. After all, it wasn’t like forever.

Hunting for a house had turned out to be fruitless. She’d seen some twenty houses so far, but she didn’t like any of them. She started to be irritated with herself for being so undecided, and so demanding about it, but Jake cheered her up, saying that it was a very important decision, and there was no hurry. But Amy dared to disagree. Moving to the new house would take away the excuse of sleeping in one room, and most important in one bed, because understandably the new house would have a few spare bedrooms.

Not that sharing the bed with Jake was that unbearable, far from it. She was frankly a bit terrified at how fast she’d managed to get used to his presence. Every day it was getting less and less awkward to have him in her bed. She wasn’t even sure if she still wanted separate bedrooms. He didn’t snore and if he did it was very quietly and he had, usually, to be very tired to do that. And, at the end of a long day, when she was dead on her feet, it was nice to have somebody with whom to cuddle. Especially someone so warm, strong and smelling so nice. She’d never of course reached for him on her own, but he seemed to have little problem with reading her moods and perceiving the moment when she craved a little physical contact, which happened quite often she had to admit.

He always behaved, and never tried to push her into making love. When holding her, he placed his hand on her waist, around her arms or on her back. But in the mornings, when occasionally she didn’t wake up crushed by his arm, or thigh, he was cuddled behind her, and then his hand was either on her hip or more often on her breast. At those times she felt his erection, pressing firmly against her buttocks. But she knew this condition was usual for men in general in the morning, so after the shock of the first time when she’d felt it, it had stopped bothering her. She accepted it as something normal, even expected.

“Amy?” Jake’s voice drew her abruptly from her thoughts. “Amy, are you ok?”

Blinking rapidly, she focused her vision on him. He was looking at her with concern.

“You haven’t been listening to me,” he stated. “Everything all right?” He peered at her curiously.

“Yes, I was lost in my thoughts.” She shrugged with a smile. “That’s all.”

He searched her face. “Thinking of me?” he drawled, making her blush.

“You were,” he murmured huskily with satisfaction, leaning back into his chair.

Amy rolled her eyes. “You’re far too conceited for your own good,” she informed him.

Jake shook his head with a smile. “I’ve asked what you think about visiting your father next weekend.”

She stared at him for a moment, surprised. “I haven’t thought about that.”

“But you want to?”

“Sure, I want to!” she exclaimed, all enthusiasm. “I haven’t seen him for over month now. He sounds relaxed on the phone, but I’d love to see for myself how he is.”

“You finish earlier on Friday, and I’ll try to rearrange all my meetings so we could catch a flight in the early afternoon. We’ll be back Sunday evening or perhaps late afternoon. That way you could spend the entire Saturday with him.”

“That’d be great. Thank you.” She leaned over to kiss his clean-shaven cheek. “It’s so thoughtful of you.”

He reached out and touched her cheek. “You should’ve noticed that I like doing things that make you happy.”

Amy looked into his eyes, and didn’t shy away as usual when he leaned forward to kiss her. The kiss started gently as all his kisses did, but today Amy knew that her reaction was different. She felt even more curious and definitely more adventurous. She wanted to see what could happen if she was more welcoming this time. So when he slowly pulled away, and leaned back against his chair, she stood up, and shyly sat down on his lap.

For a very short moment, he didn’t react at all, and Amy felt very stupid. She was about to lift up, but she didn’t manage because his arms wrapped around her and she felt his warm mouth on her nape.

It was hard to meet his eyes, and she knew her face was very red. One of his arms supported her back and he lifted his free hand to touch her face to make her look at him. He smiled at her, or rather his eyes did. She made an embarrassed sound and hid her face into his neck.

“There’s nothing wrong with sitting on your very own husband’s lap,” he noted warmly.

“I know,” she said, and lifted her face from his shoulder to look at him again.

The kiss that came next had nothing to do with the almost innocent teasing of the previous ones. It was deep and arousing. He tugged at her lips persistently, gently inserting his tongue into her mouth. She closed her eyes, and let herself surrender to the pleasure of it, responding to the movement of his lips and tongue.

He was a good kisser, she thought as his hand slipped from her face to her neck, and then lower. It brushed lightly against her breast, which instantly felt tight and tingling. Then he moved his hand down her body, eliciting short gasps from her mouth when it lingered on her waist, hip, and stroked the top of her leg. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, when he pushed her legs slightly apart and with the back of his fingers began to touch lightly her inner thigh. She moaned uncontrollably into his mouth, the sharp warm sensation pulling between her legs. She realized that probably she would have to change her panties before going to work, because she was already wet, and he’d barely touched her. He didn’t touch her exactly there and soon his hand moved higher, staying flattened on her ribcage just on the underside of her breast. She wore a comfortable, lacy bra without the underwire today under the thin blouse so if he wanted he could feel her without much trouble, but still he didn’t shift his hand up.

Amy craved for him to move his fingers just a bit higher, and started wriggling on his knees, pushing herself into his hand. She was about to ask him to do that, or simply push his hand up right on her aching nipple, when his phone rang, vibrating and light flashing as it moved across the table next to the previously abandoned newspaper. They ignored it at first, but when it started ringing again, she broke the kiss reluctantly.

“You should answer.” She smoothed his hair, rumpled from her own fingers just moments ago. “Perhaps it’s something important.” She tried to get up from his lap, but he stopped her.

Amy reached for the phone and handed it to him.

He flipped it open and checked the last caller. “It’s Marcia. Only she has my private number.” He frowned. “Something’s wrong if she’s phoning me.” He chose the last number.

“Yes, what’s the matter?” he asked when she answered.

Amy could hear Marcia saying that there was an accident at one of the building sites. “I’ll be there as soon as I can,” he said shortly before ending the conversation.

He pushed her gently from his knees but didn’t release her from his arms. “I must go.”

Her hands smoothed the front of his shirt. “I’m worried.”

“It’s not enjoyable, but such things happen in this business,” he said in a resigned voice, stepping from her and reaching for his jacket. “Where’s my briefcase?” he asked as he looked around.

“I think it’s in the bedroom,” Amy said quickly and padded to the back of the apartment, returning with the black leather briefcase.

He took it from her, opened it, and checked through the papers inside. Then, taking the last gulp of now cold coffee, he walked down the hall.

“Promise to call me later and tell me how things are.” She followed him to the door.

“Sure.” He leaned to kiss her cheek. “I’ll probably be very late. Go to sleep and don’t wait for me.”

“I’ll wait,” she whispered when the door closed after him.

Her day at work was long and all she waited for was a call from Jake. She knew how unpleasant accidents were for the owner of the company. She remembered only too well how her own father had felt, and all the stress it had caused, when many years ago one of his workers had cut his finger off during work.

Guessing how preoccupied he had to be, she refrained from calling him. It was after 5pm when he called her at last. He sounded busy and curt, saying that everything was now under control, and that he wouldn’t be home until late evening, so she should go to bed, and not wait up for him. She wanted to ask him how he felt, and how he was dealing with everything, but he had another call, and ended the conversation quickly.