Symphony In Rapture (3 page)

Of course, things had changed since then. The cause for ridicule no longer existed. Nicholas paused for a moment in his pacing, studying himself in one of the mirrors on the wall. He had a striking profile, a fine bone structure for which he’d paid quite handsomely over the years. His dark tan contrasted nicely with wheat-blond hair, and the bright blue eyes had always attracted the ladies. Even before the surgeries. If he ever did allow himself to care for someone again, one particular problem no longer remained.

This Michelle, though. He’d never believed in soul mates—at least, not since Elly. But the minute he’d seen Michelle, he’d felt as if he knew her—as if some missing puzzle piece had finally fallen into place. Instant connection. Instant desire. It had been so unusual, so unexpected, prompting him to do things he normally never would have considered. The papers hadn’t nicknamed him ‘The Untouchable’ for nothing. He hadn’t dated anyone in years.

Almost involuntarily, Nick reached for his zipper. He pushed his pants and underwear down, exposing his swollen member. The physical desire had been nearly overwhelming, something he had never felt with any of the women he acquired through the escort service, despite their many and varied attractions; or with the other two women in his life whom he had thought he loved. With them, he had gone through the necessary motions of giving them what they wanted simply to obtain physical release for himself. The thought uppermost in his mind when he had touched Michelle had been whether or not he could pleaseher . His own orgasm had simply been a pleasant bonus. He felt as ifhe were the puzzle—and Michelle the missing piece that had finally slipped into place. But, she hadn’t smiled. During the entire encounter. He desperately wanted to make her smile.

Nick touched himself lightly, imagining Michelle’s delicate hands caressing his aching erection. He had to admit—he’d been half hoping, when he called her, that she would be as hungry for him as he was for her and invite him over. He wrapped his cock in a tight grip. He remembered the feel of her clutching his shoulders—petite hands, but strong. Musician’s hands. He pictured her thrusting pelvis and imagined her enveloping him with that eager cunt. He wanted her. Wanted her badly. But he had a feeling he was opening himself up to a relationship that might cause big problems down the road. He barely knew her, and he couldn’t wait to see her again. Such involvement was not a good thing, for him.

The sexual tension he was feeling grated on his nerves like misplayed notes in Beethoven’sEroica symphony. He began moving his hand rapidly up and down his shaft. Unfortunately, it wasn’t doing anything for him—he kept remembering how Michelle’s soft, wet flesh had felt against his fingers, and his cock wanted the same thing. Frustrated, he glanced around the room for inspiration and saw a bowl sitting on the coffee table that had held his evening snack. He leaned forward and grabbed it, tilting it so that the remaining syrup from his canned peaches cascaded over his hand and straining phallus. The sudden cool lubrication raised his desire to a level just below orgasm. He pictured Michelle taking his rod in her mouth, sucking off the sweet juices. He stroked himself slowly, imagined her making him come—with her hands, with her tongue, with her magnificent pussy. Faster and faster he pumped, until his penis was hot and sticky, almost too sensitive to touch. He groaned. It wasn’t going to happen.

Nick rose stiffly and went into the kitchen to clean off the sticky juice. Rubbing tired eyes, he turned out the light. Heading up the stairs to his room, he knew that no matter how exhausted he was, there would be no sleep for him that night.

(A public performance of music)

Michelle knocked at the back door ofTrent’s Art Gallery .

“Come in,” a voice called.

“I don’t have my key!” Michelle shouted. A moment later, the latch clicked and Penny opened the door.

“Mickey! What are you doing here?” Penelope Trent, owner of the gallery, known as Penny to her many friends, glanced at her watch and grimaced. “God, I didn’t even realize how earlyI’d gotten here. It’s only seven-thirty in the morning, for heaven’s sake.”

“I know,” Michelle acknowledged as she stepped past Penny into the hall. “But I was up all night, and when I swung by on my way to the coffee shop and saw your car in the back, I thought I’d come in and see if you wanted to chat.”

Penny locked the door and led the way to her office, plopping into the chair behind her desk with a groan. “Well, I know whyI couldn’t sleep last night,” she said, winking slyly at her dearest friend, “but why couldn’t you?”

Michelle blushed. Penny was notorious for three things—one, her ability to discover and promote fantastic new artists; two, her seemingly instantaneous knowledge of anything and everything going on that even remotely touched the art world, down to and including local elementary school finger-painting contests; and three (the most probable explanation for her late night), her numerous amorous adventures.

Michelle plucked at a loose string on the upholstered chair she’d appropriated. “I don’t know,” she muttered. “Spring fever, maybe.”

Penny eyed her friend critically. “Spring fever, huh?” She grinned. “Well, it’s about time. You need a good lay.”

“Penny!”

“Well, hon, as far as I know, you haven’t had sex since before our angel moved on.” Penny had never been able to say ‘Angela died’. She always referred to Angela’s death as ‘our angel’ moving on.

If Michelle had thought Penny was just being purposefully shocking—as she often decided to be—she wouldn’t have been bothered. But her best friend was unnaturally perceptive, and the fact that she’d nailed Michelle’s problem on the proverbial head right away was annoying.

“What am I, an open book?” she asked peevishly.

Penny raised her eyebrows. “I’m surprised.”

Michelle mentally kicked herself. “What, you were only guessing?”

“No, Mickey,” Penny drawled, “I’m just surprised you admitted to it.”

Michelle felt heat rising in her cheeks.

“So, come on, hon. Give it up. What’s going on?” Penny stood and walked over to the cappuccino maker. “Vanilla almond?”

Michelle nodded, then rubbed her face with her hands. “You’re not going to believe this… I certainly can’t.”

Penny grabbed a small carton of milk from inside her mini-fridge and poured it into the frothing cup. “Try me. Must be something big, if it’s got you this worked up.”

“It is…and it probably isn’t.” Michelle stood and began pacing. In Penny’s cozy but rather cluttered office, this was all of two steps each way. “I don’t even know… It all happened so quickly… and—I—aaargh!” she growled, and flopped back into the chair.

Penny deftly poured the frothed milk into two cups, added the coffee and a couple of spoonfuls of sugar to each one, and sprinkled the tops with cinnamon. She handed Michelle her cup and sat down in the chair next to her. “Why don’t you start at the beginning?”

When Michelle had finished her story, Penny eyed her speculatively. “So, the ‘Great Wall of Mickey’ crumbles to dust.” Michelle started to protest, but Penny waved it away. “Mickey, hon, it’s obvious you’ve got it bad. But hey, if you’re gonna’ give it up, you could do a lot worse than Nicholas Duquaine. The guy is drop-dead gorgeous! And famous and loaded, to boot.”

“Yeah, it’s just great. Lust at first sight and it has to be Nicholas Duquaine, of all people.” Michelle jumped up and resumed pacing. “You know what the tabloids call him, right?”

“The Untouchable?” Penny’s lips quirked. “Obviously, he’s more into being thetoucher than thetouchee .” She laughed at Michelle’s glare. “Oh, come on Mick. It isn’t the end of the world. The guy asked you out, didn’t he?”

Michelle collapsed back into her chair. Penny calmly patted her friend’s shirt with a napkin where cappuccino now splattered the hem. She peered into Michelle’s eyes, her gaze challenging. “Just lust, huh? Nothing more? I didn’t think anything so simple would bring you out of your funk. If that’s all it is, don’t go pining over Mr. Untouchable. I know half a dozen young gentlemen who would be perfectly adequate for the task.”

Michelle grabbed the napkin and dabbed at the stain herself, avoiding Penny’s eyes. “No thanks.” She wadded up the soiled tissue and threw it toward the wastebasket. “I don’t know, maybe it’s something more. It was just sostrange .” She shook her head. “How do I know? I mean, how do I tell if it’s just physical, or something more lasting? I’ve never really believed in love at first sight.”

Penny sighed, reaching out to catch Michelle’s agitated hands in hers. “I’m not sure.” She grinned ruefully. “LikeI’m the person to be talking to. I mean, look at me. I’m thirty-eight and never been married. Never even been proposed to.” She tilted her head thoughtfully. “But I have to say, even if someone had proposed, I would have turned them down. I just know I haven’t met the right man yet. And you’ll know, too.”

“But I thought Alex was the right man, and now, I don’t think I ever really loved him.”

“Hindsight is twenty-twenty, Mickey. You can’t second-guess what happened between you and Alex. You’re a different person now. Besides, it’s not like you have to make a decision this minute. You go out with the guy, you get to know him, then you decide where it’s going. No big deal.”

Michelle’s face reddened. “You don’t understand. I let this guy…fondle me the first time we met!”

“What’s so wrong with that? You both wanted it, right?”

Michelle nodded.

“Sex is good!” Penny insisted.

“But I’m not like that, Penny. I want it tomean something, when I give myself to a man.” She looked down at their linked hands. “Look at me! I don’t evenhave this guy yet, and I’m scared to death to lose him. That’s not normal.”

“Look, I know you better than I know myself, and I have a feeling about this.” Penny’s ‘feelings’ were legendary. She was something of a mystic, and over the years her friends had learned to listen. She squeezed Michelle’s hands. “You want this, Mickey. You want it,and you need it. You have to go for it, even if it means you might get hurt. Set aside your usual expectations. Stop trying to satisfy your sense of propriety by convincing yourself the two of you will fall in love. There’s nothing wrong with simply enjoying your sexuality, especially if the guy is willing to be monogamous. Besides, are you really looking for a serious involvement in the very first relationship you’ve had since Alex?”

Michelle shook her head. “You know, you’re right. I can hardly admit it, but—” Her eyes glazed as she remembered the sensations Nick had conjured with his hand. “It was…freeing. He felt so good, inside me.” Michelle’s cheeks reddened. She couldn’t believe she had said that, even to her best friend.

Penny smiled, amused at her friend’s discomfiture. Michelle glared at her for a moment, then continued on a safer note. “I felt as though the last five years had been black and white reruns of the same old show, and suddenly I woke up and started seeing everything in color again.”

“Welcome back to the land of the living, Mick!” Penny stood and took their cups back to the counter for a refill.

* * * * *

The doorbell rang at six fifty-nine, and Michelle made herself count to ten, then walk—not run—to answer. Opening the door, she found Nicholas, dressed in a grey tank top and tight black jeans. Her nipples came to attention so rapidly, it was almost painful. Nick was remarkably muscular and athletic-looking for a classical musician. She found herself wondering whether his penis was as tall and muscular as the rest of him. After a few moments, he smiled. “Are you going to invite me in?”

“Oh! Of course.” Michelle cursed the heat rising in her cheeks as she waved him in. Closing the door, she took a moment to compose herself before turning around. “Welcome to my humble abode,” she offered lightly, trying to ignore her own tension. She walked past him, leading the way into the living room. “Just let me grab my purse.”

Nicholas quickly appraised the room, trying to ignore the twang of electric need already strumming in his gut. Well-stuffed, comfortable furniture, yet with clean lines and neutral tones—accented tastefully, but without overwhelming, in shades of muted jungle greens and dark wines.

Michelle returned with her purse slung over her shoulder. “Very nice,” he said.

“Thank you, Nick.”

The restaurant he took her to was one she hadn’t tried since she moved to Ramey, mostly because it was calledHole in the Wall and looked exactly like its name, at least from the outside. But inside it was well-appointed and intimate. The tables were only large enough to seat two people and were arranged between screens, potted trees, and other items so that each was essentially shut off from the rest. Nick asked for a table in a remote, secluded corner.

After they had ordered their drinks, Michelle studied the menu. She was really in the mood for steak tonight. She glanced up at Nick. “What are you having?”

Nick’s eyes twinkled. “Isn’t it funny?”

“What?”

“How people always want to know what the other person is having, before they decide.”

“Do we?” Michelle considered for a moment, remembering other dinners out. “I guess so,” she agreed ruefully. “I think women do it, especially when they’re dating, because their partner’s choice gives them an idea what the price range is for that particular meal.”

Nick grinned. “Order whatever you want,” he said. “I hope you’re not one of those women that eats like a rabbit.”

“Please. Have you looked at this figure?” she asked ruefully.

Nick drank in the sight of her. “Absolutely.”

Michelle looked down at the tablecloth. His gaze was so intense. Sohungry . Slow tendrils of arousal snaked their way sinuously between her legs.

Nick sensed that she was turned on, and smiled to himself, transferring his attention to the menu. “Anyway, I think I’m going to have the lobster.” He peered over the top of the menu. “Have you decided?”

“I think I’ll have the New York strip,” Michelle announced. “Medium well, with everything but sour cream on the potato.”

“Now you’re talking!” The waiter arrived with their drinks, and Nick ordered for them both. After the young man left, he settled back in his chair. “So, tell me about yourself.”