The Perfect Indulgence (16 page)

“
Very
nice.”

The brass section started a spirited solo. Zac’s undershirt came off, stripped from the bottom up, slowly revealing his nicely muscled abdomen and chest, smooth and tempting to her fingers and tongue.

Not yet. She wanted to wait longer, to be even hungrier for him.

She kicked off one sandal, then the other. One-two, one-two.

He stepped out of his shoes and pulled off his socks. One-two-three-four.

The band let loose; Chris unfastened the waistband of her skirt and let it slide to the floor.

Zac unzipped his fly, rescued a condom from his pocket and held it between his teeth, giving her a fierce raised-eyebrow look that made her giggle.

One-ha! Two-ha!

Keeping his spirit of melodrama, she shimmied out of her panties, paused with them high over her head, and flung them across the room, encouraged by the conga drums.

Naked, one-two, and—
attack
!

They came together in the middle of the room in an embrace that nearly knocked them both over, kissing frantically, half laughing, half deranged with lust.

Chris turned her mind off, letting herself drown in the physical sensations, the style and rhythm of the music, the warmth of his mouth, the smooth, wonderful feel of his skin against hers, chest to knee, the sexy aftershave-enhanced smell of that skin. His impressive erection prodded her lower belly, making it clear how much he wanted her.

She wanted him, too, more than just today and tomorrow, more than just once in a while.

They moved toward the bedroom and fell onto the bed, twisting around so Chris was on top. Hands over her head, she straddled his erection, gyrating to the music, flinging her head around, letting the beat completely take her over.

Without a drop of alcohol in her system, she felt drunk; without an ounce of any drug, she was high, full of so much life she was afraid she’d explode from the feelings and the joy of it.

The piece ended. An Artie Shaw big-band number came on, “Begin the Beguine,” one of her mom’s favorite songs. She’d forgotten it was on there. The moody clarinet rose and fell over a tropical beat, a different kind of sexy.

“Changeup.” Zac held her hips and tumbled her to the side, following, his big body covering hers.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and stared into his eyes, loving their blue shade, their warmth, their openness, loving the connection that went deeper than any she’d had before. This man cared about her; he wanted only for her to be her own flawed self, to love and accept her flaws the way he had.

Wasn’t that at the heart of what they taught at the Peace, Love and Joy Center?

Somehow she’d missed the mark, adopting a model of behavior and being that was too far outside of herself for her ever to internalize it. She’d been a perfectionist even in trying to throw off perfectionism.

Zac’s wonderful, handsome face came down to hers for another long kiss that ignited more fires in her body...but also more longing in her heart.

She was ready to examine those emotions, to confront them honestly, to see, without the filter of analysis or rationalization, exactly what she felt for this man.

A lot.

“Chris.” He said her name with such intensity, such depth of feeling, that she allowed herself to hope he was as far gone as she was.

From the other room, the big band finished an interlude and the clarinet resumed the elegant melody, crooning, crying, singing it out. Chris opened her legs, inviting Zac in, wanting them to join intimately with their bodies, as well as—someday, hopefully—with their hearts.

Zac lifted to roll on the condom.

During that brief pause, a few sensible and practical doubts crept into her thoughts. What was the point of falling hard for a man she’d soon be separated from? Maybe very soon? Wouldn’t the pain be that much greater if she got in too deep now? Wouldn’t it make sense to pull back now instead of forging ahead?

Chris thanked the thoughts politely for their intrusion and told them in no uncertain terms to get the hell out of her head, because she had a really hot and really wonderful man in bed with her, and many, many things to do with him.

She grinned up at him, gyrating to the jazzy tempo. “Let’s begin this beguine, baby.”

He laughed and moved back over her to flick his tongue firmly over her nipple, then closer to suckle her, tongue swirling around her areola, stoking the fires. Under her fingers his hair was thick and soft and his back provided a glorious stretch of skin and muscle for her other hand to explore.

“Mmm, I love what you do to me, Zac.”

“I’d like to keep doing it for a long, long time, Chris.” He smiled into her eyes for several heart-pounding seconds before he bent to worship her other breast.

Chris bit her bottom lip. A long, long time? What did that mean? Today, in terms of minutes? Or over and over in terms of days stretching on into the future?

Shh. Quiet. Listen to the music. Love the man.

The man stroked his hand down between her breasts and over her belly to tangle his fingers in the curls between her legs, moving them in gentle exploration before sweeping his hand back up.

Then he moved it back down again, spreading her labia wide this time, lingering over her clitoris, sending a hot burst of arousal through her that caused her to arch up to his hand.

“Mmm. You can do that for a long, long time, too, Zac.”

“I intend to.” His warm hand slid up again, passed over one breast then the other, and slid back down, playing there, circling, rubbing...then he thrust a finger inside her, making her gasp with pleasure.

“You like that?”

“Oh...yes.” She closed her eyes, letting him make love to her with one finger, then two, his thumb stopping now and then to tease her clitoris.

“Zac.” She whispered his name with the same tenderness he’d used, feeling a swell of emotion that had only partly to do with the pleasure his fingers were giving her.

He moved down and his mouth replaced his thumb. His tongue swirled over her clit, bringing her up and up and...he stopped. She came down, panting, incredibly hot, incredibly disappointed. Until he resumed his magic and sent her spiraling back up toward a climax...and again, eased her gently down, his tongue resting, fingers going still inside her. Back up, then down, up, down, until she was shaking with frustration.

“Zac!”
This time there was no tenderness in her voice, only demand for her release.

He lunged over her immediately, one hard thrust taking him in all the way. Chris cried out, nearly losing her mind at the pleasure. She spread her legs wider, drew her knees up to her shoulders, urging him to drive harder. He obliged her with strokes that shook the bed, made her grab at the headboard to keep from banging into it.

Then his thrusts slowed to a stop, though his breath still came hard. He lay still for a moment, until she registered that the music had changed again. “Make You Feel My Love.”

Zac lifted his head, this time moving in an entirely different rhythm, a slow in and out, pausing to grind his hips over her clitoris while Adele’s rough, throaty voice sang of love and comfort.

Chris hooked her legs over his, using the leverage to push back against him, slow in, slow out, gazing into his blue, blue eyes, thinking that she’d never felt this close to anyone, never allowed herself to be this wide-open. Not to anyone.

Zac.

He kissed her, took her lower lip into his mouth and sucked gently.

“Mmm.” His back was long and lean under her fingers, his buttocks firm. She pushed her fingers into the muscle, feeling it contract as he moved.

His body tensed; his motion accelerated. Chris responded once more, her desire climbing, body gathering itself, reaching toward the climax, maybe this time...

He pulled out nearly all the way and slowly pushed just the tip of his cock in and out of her, stretching and teasing until she was so close, so close, not able to get over, but
so close
...

With a groan he thrust all the way back in, then again and again. She dug her fingers into his back, close to screaming, feeling the orgasm approaching inevitably now.

It tore into her, nearly unbearably intense, and she was yelling,
oh, oh, oh
, thrashing her head, completely out of control and letting herself be that way.

Zac tensed, shouting his own pleasure as he came with her.

The song finished. Another came on, and in an incredibly weird coincidence, it was “Afterglow” by INXS.

Slowly Chris returned to earth, breathing hard, blinking in a kind of stupefied trance. Slowly, she untangled her brain from the fading ecstasy and tuned in to the man on top of her, slumped and breathless.

This time when he raised his head to look down at her, she held nothing back, let him see her vulnerability, her passion, her awe of what they had done, her hope for what they might be able to do, given time.

Time.

“Zac.”

“Chris.”

They spoke together and both laughed, a little shaky, a little uncertain.

I love you.

No, it was too soon, the emotion unfairly influenced by the passion they’d just shared. These declarations needed to wait until she was sure, until...

No. To hell with caution. To hell with analysis and practicality and common sense. She wanted to say it now because she was feeling it deep down through her whole body and through her whole heart.

She opened her mouth to speak.

Zac opened his mouth to speak.

In a crazy intuitive flash, Chris thought he was about to tell her the same thing she was about to tell him.

Her phone rang, catching them both with their mouths open, ruining the mood and the moment. Zac kissed her and rolled to the side. “Did you want to get that?”

“No, I’ll look later.” She forced a smile, feeling cheated out of something potentially momentous and life altering, but also relieved. Zac might have been about to say,
thanks for the world’s greatest orgasm
. Or to ask to use the toilet. In which case she would have sounded pretty stupid telling him she loved him. Maybe it was just as well.

Maybe.

She snuggled up against Zac’s chest, inhaling his scent, concentrating on all the places their bodies were intersecting instead of on what might have been and whether or not it was a good idea.

“What time do you think it is?”

“I have no idea.” Chris lifted her head, straining to see the clock by the bed, forgetting that Eva didn’t have one. “I forgot we have a reservation. Hell, I forgot my name.”

He stroked her hair, one of the best feelings in the world. “I know what you mean.”

“I’ll go check.”

“Do you have to?”

“Yes.” She rolled away from him, sat on the edge of the mattress and stretched luxuriously. “Because otherwise I’ll worry.”

His wonderful chuckle sounded behind her. “Of course you will.”

Chris pushed off the bed. He didn’t care if she was a mess sometimes. And maybe she didn’t, either. Or shouldn’t, anyway.

She padded into the hall to retrieve her phone from the pocket of her discarded skirt and brought it back into the room. “Just after seven. We’ve got plenty of time. And the call was from Eva. Wait, she texted me.
Call me back ASAP
.”

“Go ahead.” Zac slid out of bed and took her in his arms. “But first...”

Being kissed over and over and over by a man you’d just had amazing sex with was even better than having your hair stroked.

“Mmm.” Reluctantly, she let him head for the bathroom, while she stood there like a moonstruck buffoon for about two minutes before she managed to calm down enough to dial her sister. “Hey, Eva, I got your message. Everything okay?”

“Are you with Zac?”

“Yes.” She turned toward the door he’d left through. “Why?”

“Because the two of you better start getting serious.”

Chris blinked. Had her sister been watching? “Really? Gee, I’ll get right on it. Why do you say that?”

Zac came out of the bathroom. He stopped in the doorway, his head almost touching the top of the frame, body practically filling it, hands on his hips, looking her naked body up and down, his sexy lips curved in a smile.

She was crazy about him.

“Because, dear twin, Ames was offered the job this afternoon. They want him to start as soon as possible.”

13

B
ODIE
WOKE
FROM
a strange dream in which he was shackled to an iron bed with chains around his wrists and ankles.

He tried to scratch his balls, but there was a clanking, jingling noise and then his hand was brought up short.

What the—?

He
was
shackled to an iron bed with chains around his wrists and ankles.

Oh, yeah. The blonde he’d met at the A-Frame. What had started as sex with light bondage had turned serious. She’d taken him prisoner, chained him to this bed, unable to move without her permission, unable to eat, drink or pee without her permission, unable to
surf
!

Damn!

Gus would miss him. Gus knew Bodie would never miss a session. He’d call the cops. Someone would have seen him leaving the bar with her. Someone would be able to trace him here, wherever
here
was.

In the meantime, he was a prisoner, victim to her rough sexual games, some of which went on for hours.

The door to the room opened. It was her, Gail, wearing the full getup—a black leather bikini, elbow and knee pads, and a black leather mask across her eyes. He’d thought she was pretty hot at the A-Frame, but he’d had no idea what she was capable of.

“Good morning, slave.” She cracked her whip and climbed up onto the bed. He groaned, briefly closing his eyes. The woman was insatiable. She wanted more sex in more ways more often than anyone he’d ever met. “It’s time to begin your training again.”

“Yeah, okay,” he croaked.

“Okay,
mistress
.” She straddled him, glaring down, hands fisted on her hips, her onyx navel ring gleaming.
“Well?”

His cock rose obediently, mighty and straight like that dude’s sword, Excalibur.

Bodie grinned up at her. He was
the man
! “I’m ready, mistress.”

* * *

“I
T
’
S
GOING
TO
be freezing!” Summer giggled nervously, holding Luke’s hand, staring apprehensively at the water. They’d climbed down into the tiny cove behind her house after Luke got the completely insane idea that it would be fun to go swimming.

“It’ll be awesome. We’ll run, dive in, then turn around and run out. C’mon.” He gave her arm a tug. “Ready? One, two—”

“No!”
She pulled her hand away, unable to stop her nervous laughter. This was crazy. She couldn’t believe he’d talked her into it. It was a nice evening, but the sun was on its way down, and the water temperature at this time of year was in the low fifties. Brr. Even putting a
toe
in would be painful.

Earlier this evening she and Luke had cooked a budget dinner of enchiladas at her house. He’d brought a six-pack of beer, and she’d had a couple that had gone straight to her head, because she rarely drank. Luke had also stopped at two cans, which pleased her. Didn’t seem as if he had a problem there. Maybe that bar fight had been an isolated event. Stupid, but if controlling his alcohol intake wasn’t a problem, there was hope the incident was safely in the past.

After dinner, she’d been ready to settle down with him in front of a movie, but Luke was determined to come out to swim—one of those ideas that sounded exciting and fun when she was warm in her own house, and entirely different when she was in a bathing suit facing the frigid water, about to go polar.

“C’mon, we’ll run laps first to warm up.” Luke started across the beach at an easy jog. She followed him to the other side by the cliffs, then back, then over again, then back, struggling to run on the soft sand, both of them giggling.

Summer had never, ever had this much fun with a guy. Maybe her younger brother when they were really little, before Ted had gotten into cigarettes, then pot, then drugs, and had changed into someone she no longer recognized.

She was crazy about Luke. When she was with him, she felt she could leave her baggage and burdens behind. But life wasn’t just about fun, and she worried she was getting in too deep with someone who could just be killing time with her until he went back to his East Coast world, or until he “grew up,” as he put it, and married someone more like himself. Even if he stayed around, she worried she’d leave him behind, still playing his way through life while she lived out her career dreams.

Summer shook off the concerns. Awfully heavy thoughts for a beautiful evening. They’d still be there the next day, and the next, though sooner or later she’d have to face them. Preferably before either she or Luke got hurt.

“One more!” Luke touched the cliff with her and they raced back to the other side, all of about twenty yards, their feet thumping on the sand. “Okay, you ready now?”

She was panting from their run. “I’ll never...be ready. You’re insane, you know that.”

“I think I’ve heard that before, yeah.” He was flushed, eyes sparking blue in the dimming light. “Never stopped me before, won’t now. Come on.”

He pulled her, laughing and protesting, down to the water’s edge, where the sand hardened and became cold and wet under their toes.

“Stand here. Right here. Okay, on the count of three. Ready?”

“Luke! This is going to be horrible!”

“One...” He grabbed her hand. “Two...three!”

They ran, yelling and splashing into the icy waves until the water reached their waists, then they fell forward—it wasn’t really diving—until they were submerged.

Argh!
Cold!

Summer came up, gasping and shrieking, staggering to get out as quickly as possible. “That was enough swimming, even if it wasn’t swimming. I’m outta here.”

“Me, too.
Damn
, that’s cold water.”

“I told you.” A wave pushed her forward. She fought for balance. No way was she going under again.

Luke lunged through the thigh-deep water to grab her arm, helping her the rest of the way onto the sand.

“Yes!” Luke thrust his arms overhead. “We did it! We were amazing!”

“We were morons!” She sprinted with him toward their beach towels, her skin tingling, lungs gasping for air.

“It was awesome!” Luke reached the towels first, unfolded one with a quick shake and draped it around her, using the edges to pull her close. “Admit it.”

“Never!” She made the mistake of looking up at him. The setting sun cast a pink light over his face that made his skin rosy and his eyes stand out in strong relief. A lock of hair curled over his forehead, a drop of water sparkling at its tip. He’d put on weight since he’d been in California and had lost the starving-teenager look.

He was gorgeous. She really liked him. And she liked herself better since meeting him. He’d gotten her out of her rut and reminded her that life could hold joy and silliness as well as work and responsibility.

“Summer.”

“Yes.” Her voice came out husky, the way a woman speaks when she’s overcome with nerves and emotion. She did not want her resolve to stay platonic with Luke tested right now. She was too vulnerable, he was too handsome, the beach too romantic.

“I, uh—” He cleared his throat. “I want to tell you that I think you’re really beautiful.”

“Thanks.” She felt herself blush, dropping her eyes, unable to look into his anymore. “You’re pretty hot yourself.”

“Yeah?” She could hear the pleasure in his voice. “So does that mean we can do it? Right now? On the beach? Without protection? I hear girls don’t get pregnant the first time if they—”

Summer let out a howl of pretend horror. A pretty convincing one.

“I’m
kidding
.” He was laughing. “Jeez, Summer, you think I’m
that
clueless?”

“Yes.” She folded her arms over her chest and glared at him, trying not to laugh. “You’re a guy.”

“You should have seen your face.”

“Not
fun
-ny.”

“I thought you were going to have a total—”

One push was all it took when he was off balance like that. Then he was getting sandy everywhere and Summer was standing triumphantly over him. “Ha! And I knew you were kidding, temper boy.”

“Yeah?” He lay there, grinning up at her. “I’m glad to hear that, uptight girl.”

“You’re going to have to rinse off that sand.”

“So are you.”

Summer frowned. “I’m not sandy.”

He hooked his leg behind hers and brought her down to sprawl over his hard chest, locking her there in his strong arms. “Now you are.”

“You are so going to pay for that.” She struggled up on her arms and tried to glare at him some more, but he looked so pleased with himself that she couldn’t help laughing.

Then he pulled her back down onto his wet, warm torso and kissed her. His kisses were salty and sandy and sweet, the most wonderful kisses she’d ever had.

Her instinct should have been to pull away. She knew what happened when guys kissed you and there was nothing between you but bathing suits. Sooner or later, the sweetness would evaporate from the kiss, the tongue would come out and the groping would start.

But she really, really liked kissing Luke.

He smiled at her, lifting his hand to brush sand from her cheek. “You okay?”

“Yes.” She wasn’t sure. She felt fragile and shimmering, not very much like her solid, serious self.

Luke helped her to her feet, still loose limbed and relaxed. “I didn’t plan to do that. It just sorta happened. You looked so pretty, and I don’t know, I just wanted to.”

“Okay.” She didn’t know what else to say. She should tell him it wasn’t going to happen again until they’d figured out a lot more about each other, but with the warmth of his mouth so recently against her lips...

“So, hey, guess what, Summer Kreuger?” He raised his eyebrows, apparently not remotely as affected by kissing her as she’d been by kissing him. A good thing to keep in mind if she ever got weak-kneed around him again.

“What, Luke Arnette?” She imitated his careless tone.

“I got a job today.”

“What? Oh, wow!” Summer clapped her hands together. “Luke, that’s fantastic. Why did you wait so long to tell me?”

He tipped his head, eyeing her sheepishly. “I don’t know. It’s not that impressive.”

“It’s great. Where are you working?”

“Bagel shop in San Luis Obispo.”

“It’s fine for now. Are you going back to school?”

“Oh...maybe. Hey, you’re shivering. Let’s go back and get you warmed up.” He picked up the towel, shook it free of sand and draped it back over her shoulders.

Summer’s balloon of optimism popped.
Maybe
wasn’t exactly an enthusiastic response. In fact, she’d bet it was a euphemism for
probably not
. She shouldn’t be disappointed. They were just friends, right? Or...friends who kissed sometimes...she still wasn’t sure what that had been about. Maybe it was as simple as he’d said—him kissing a girl because he thought she looked pretty and he wanted to. A reflex, like petting a dog or cooing over a baby.

In any case, Luke’s plans for his life shouldn’t matter so much to her.

She’d just have to try to forget that they already did.

* * *

T
HIS
V
ALENTINE
’
S
THING
was going to kill her. Chris hung up the phone in the Slow Pour office, her eyes practically crossing from fatigue. Everything was in place, the food on order, the entertainment, the prizes, the red carpet for kneeling all taken care of, but after the phone call from Eva on Monday night, she had about as much enthusiasm for a day devoted to love as a woman whose hopes for romance had recently swirled down the potty of circumstances.

Fact one: she could not commit to any kind of extended relationship with Zac right now, no matter how serious her feelings seemed, because early infatuation wasn’t to be trusted.

Fact two: she needed time to see if those feelings were the real thing or not.

Fact three: since Eva and Ames were moving back here to California and she was moving back to New York, she did not have time.

Fact four: see facts one and two, on and on into infinity.

And that was that. Well thought-out. Smart. And infallibly sensible.

But well thought-out, smart and sensible were making her feel horrible. Obviously what she really wanted was to continue a relationship with Zac. She had to keep reasoning with herself that while her feelings for Zac might be real, a long-distance relationship wasn’t a reliable test of compatibility. When you were apart, the longing for the other person was exaggerated, and when you were together, it was always a honeymoon period of reunion followed by the intense emotions stemming from having to part again so soon.

Sorry, inner voice, her common sense was right this time. No matter how strongly she felt about Zac, trying to keep a relationship going was not the best course. Right now the best course was to take back to New York all she’d learned about herself while she was here. She had new insights into her less desirable behaviors and, having met Zac, a higher bar of how she wanted to be treated in relationships in the future, and a better idea of how she wanted to treat her next partner. Once there, she’d be starting over in a way—she’d call it the New Chris, but by now that concept made her want to hurl.

Moving back to New York was going to be exciting. She’d be a better and stronger woman taking on the city, one block at a time. Or something like that.

Yeah, she could barely hold back from jumping up and down.

No, no, it would take time, but she’d have time. Nothing but time. And Zac was a really special guy. She was sure they’d be able to remain friends.

Whoopee.

Sick of arguing with herself, Chris took a deep breath to try to release the constant knot of pain in her chest and went over the list for the next day’s event one more time, making sure everything was under control and ready to go. The last customer of the evening was packing up to leave. Eva and Summer would be over soon to help decorate the shop. Then she was going to go over to see Zac and explain everything she’d finally gotten straight in her mind.

She’d live through this.

Back behind the counter, she was relieved to see the guy who’d been at the same table most of the day playing video games over cup after cup of espresso was gone—probably to spend the night wide-awake playing more video games—which meant she could turn the sign to Closed and start bringing out the decorations.