The Red Diary (8 page)

Only he is no sprite-he is all man, corded muscles rippling his arms, chest, thighs, and his eyes slowly tum more feral and hungry as he gazes down on me.

"More, .. I whisper. unplanned.

He smiles, well pleased, then backs away from me to the foot of the bed.

"More, .. I say again, fearing his departure. This time it is a plea.

"Raise your gown," the woodland man instructs me.

Reaching for the hem, I slowly pull the white cotton up, up, higher and higher; as he watches, until finally it rests around my waist.

"Open your legs, " he instructs, his eyes never leaving me.

I do as he asks, displaying my most intimate parts.

In that moment, the bed transforms into a large swing with ropes of flowering vines. I sit perched on the forest swing, legs spread, wondering if he really is some sort of magical being, when he whispers, "Hold on. Don't let go."

As I grip the vines at my sides, a breeze gently lifts the swing so that it glides lightly back and forth. My naked man of the woods kneels before me among the fems, and as the swing drifts up to him in slow motion, he delivers a soft lick between my thighs. I moan as the swing moves away, the stroke from his tongue radiating through me like light, heat. When the swing nears him again, his tongue bestows another hot lick that makes me cry out.

Again and again, the swing sways to his mouth, his tongue serving up the sweet, teasing torture-and just when I think I' II go mad, he catches the wood in his hands to keep me from swinging away. He rakes long, luxuriant strokes up my center as I watch him, his face grown wet with my juices. The pleasure is so exquisite it nearly moves me to tears-filling me, filling me, until finally I am all pleasure, all sensation, and I am screaming with it, crying from it, soaking in every glorious affection my woodland lover imparts.

As the phenomenal orgasm finally fades, I shut my eyes, only to feel the vines evaporate in my grasp, and when I fall, the soft cotton of the bed catches me. I ease my eyes open to find him lying next to me, pulling the sheets up over us as I ease into his warm embrace.

He read it quickly, his heart beating too fast, and when he finished, he felt sorely tempted to read more. Too sorely tempted.

Just another glimpse, he promised himself. That was all he needed. One more peek into her fantasy world. Could he let himself?

This will be the last time, he vowed. Taking a deep breath, he turned the page.

Blue ink for this entry, but not regular blue ink; a slightly lighter, brighter blue that made him think of the ocean.

And that was what she'd written about. Floating on the ocean. Then a man bursting up through the water, and she spread her legs for him, just like in the last fantasy. He couldn't help thinking she must like that a lot to have written two fantasies about it, back-to-back. His heart pumped even harder, blood gathering in his groin as he imagined the princess, wet and open to him, imagined making her whimper and cry out.

He shivered-fully aroused but almost sorry now, sorry he'd turned the page, sorry he'd needed more so badly. He couldn't recall a single moment in time when he'd ever felt so possessed by something ... something imaginary, no less.

Not only that, but now lie found himself wanting to read another, and another, his skin burning with hungry desire. It would be easy to sit and read this book all damn day.

But for God's sake, he had to exercise some sort of discipline. It was madness to be here anyway.

the worst sort of offense. Remorse crackled through his veins already. What kind of man was he? He'd never claimed to be a saint, but he didn't like feeling he was approaching the opposite end of the spectrum, either.

Slapping the book shut, he slid it back into place and exited the office. Yet the images of her-gliding in a swing, nightgown at her waist, and afloat in the ocean, bare and bronzed and sexy-stayed with him as he descended the stairs. He could almost feel his hands on her moist skin, could almost hear her, taste her. His heart hadn't even begun to slow. As he took the corner into the kitchen, something moved and he flinched, bolts of panic slashing through him. "Meow."

Dropping his gaze to find the white cat from yesterday near his feet, he muttered with relief. "Cat, you scared the shit outta me."

Taking a deep breath, he headed for the back door, quickly locking it behind him, depositing the key beneath the turtle, and thanking God he'd gotten in and out so fast. What the hell was he even doing? He hardly knew. He was starting to feel like the juvenile delinquent he'd once been. It came back to that damn book of fantasies-it was like a porch light and he a brainless moth. And if he didn't watch it, he'd get charred to a crisp.

He'd climbed back up the ladder and started painting before he realized he'd forgotten to call Tommy. He shook his head in irritation just as the beeper buzzed against his hip again.

* * *

Lauren put away the last of the groceries, then hauled a twenty-pound bag of birdseed toward the back door. Freeing one hand to tum the lock, she swung the door open-and the phone rang. Swell.

Lowering the seed bag against the door frame, she ran to grab the receiver. It was Carolyn, calling to make plans for the evening. "Want me to pick you up?"

Lauren took a deep breath. "Uh, thanks, but I'd rather drive separately."

"Why?" She sounded surprised.

"Because I may not stay very long. I'm only going because I feel obligated to. And that reminds me, I wanted to kill you last night." The words were spoken with the I-love-you-but-I-mean-it tone that only longtime friends could share. "Oh?" As usual, Carolyn sounded totally in the dark. Lauren sighed. "Inviting him to have a beer with us?

And then pressing me into that conversation about where everyone had sex? I wanted to die. You know I'm not into that kind of ... group foreplay, or whatever it was."

And also as usual, after a reprimand, Carolyn sounded contrite. "I know, I know," she crooned, "but I thought it would be good for you. You need to have more fun. And if you don't take advantage of this opportunity with your hot painter ... " She concluded by letting out a heavy breath of exasperation. "Honestly, Laur, sometimes I'm just worried you'll end up alone." Funny, she'd had the same thought about her best friend. "Oh, Carolyn ... " She trailed off into a sigh. "Sometimes I wish I could be more like you, but I'm just not. I'm not as open, I'm not as comfortable talking about personal things with people I don't know .. ," I'm not as comfortable offering sex to every man I meet. "I'm just not as ... social as you." Lauren's mind flooded with images of the two of them back in high school, talking on the phone about boys, lying on the beach with fashion magazines, laughing at things no one else would ever think funny. They'd been so much alike then, but all that had changed when the one guy Carolyn had ever loved had unceremoniously ditched her. He'd been a senior at U of F when Carolyn had been a sophomore. She'd fallen madly in love with Clark, and he'd said he wanted to marry her. On the day he graduated, though, he announced that he'd changed his mind, wasn't ready to settle down, and was moving to California for a job. He didn't want Carolyn to come with him. Once she'd stopped crying, she'd immersed herself into her fun-loving. freewheeling lifestyle and never looked back, leaving Lauren to feel like a stick in the mud. "I'm sorry, Laur," Carolyn said. "I was just trying to get you to loosen up a little."

"Well, stop it," she said, half-playful, half-serious. "Okay, okay. I get it. You don't want to have fun. You want to grow old with your cat."

Not exactly. but close enough if it would make Carolyn behave.

"I promise I'll try to be good from now on. Well, I mean, where you're concerned." Carolyn gave a typical naughty giggle. ''But before we gel off this subject completely, there's something I just can't leave alone."

"What's that?"

"It's about your painter." She inserted a dramatic pause. "For someone who isn't into those kinds of talks, you seemed raptly fascinated by his story."

Lauren's stomach twisted. She'd sort of forgotten that part, or at least forgotten Carolyn had been sitting there watching it. 'That was just ... " What? What was it?

"Wildly out-of-control sexual chemistry," Carolyn offered matter-of-factly, "whether you like it or not."

At a complete loss, Lauren took a deep breath, practically spat, "He's a jerk," then cast a quick look to the open back door, just to make sure she remained alone.

Carolyn only laughed. "Sometimes that's how boys tell us they like us, remember? In the third grade, they pulled your pigtails, now sometimes they just act like macho idiot assholes."

"Whatever. I want nothing to do with him. And by the way, let's add inviting him to the party to the list of things I want to kill you for."

Her friend chided her. "You sound way too upset about this, Laur."

She shook her head, disgruntled, and while she didn't really want to share her feelings about Nick with Carolyn, something inside her broke. Her lies sounded stupid, even to her. "It's weird," she admitted. "I don't even get it myself. And I don't quite know what to do."

"So the situation is, you're madly attracted to him, but you don't think he's a good guy."

For some reason, the memory of him defending her, telling Carolyn to leave her alone, replayed in her mind. But she still said, "Yeah, that's pretty much it."

Carolyn released what almost sounded like a motherly sigh. "I know you don't go in for casual physical relationships, but sometimes even nice girls find themselves in places where it's easier to forget about what's meaningful and concentrate on what's fun," Lauren swallowed nervously. "I keep telling you, I'm not into fun."

Carolyn laughed. "If you ever tried it, you might actually like it."

Time to change the subject. "What time are you going to Phil's?"

Thankfully, that led to discussing what they were wearing and who else might be there, and the conversation dissolved into the easy rhythm their friendship had developed over the years. But after finally saying goodbye a few minutes later, she turned toward the door-to find Nick Armstrong leaning against the door frame, watching her.

Shock rippled through the length of her body. When had he shown up?

"What are you doing?" she asked. "Need to use your phone."

"Oh." She nodded abruptly. "Go ahead." She motioned to the receiver she'd just hung up and watched as Nick stepped inside and came toward her. He seemed to fill the room.

She turned her back, anxious for something to do, anything. Luckily, a couple of empty grocery bags still littered the kitchen floor. She stooped for one, then wondered if it made her denim shorts stretch too tight across her butt and if he was looking. She rose back up, then nervously folded the bag as he started to talk.

"Tommy, it's Nick. Sorry it took me so long to get back to you ... Why don't you head over to Oceanbrook and see if Stan can use you ... "

Tucking the bag under her arm, she reached for the other stray one, folding it, too. As she listened to him talk, her first thought was how conscientious he seemed about his work. She knew from casual chatter among the construction supervisors at Ash that he was renowned for doing a good, thorough job and ran a respected business. Could such a reliable, hardworking guy be as bad as she made him out in her mind? Unfortunately, though, her second thought was that the last time she' d seen him, he'd been relaying a sexual experience to her, and she'd been listening. with rapt fascination. "It's a two-story brick in that first culda-sac."

Yeah, tomorrow morning you and Gary can start on that last house on Sea Breeze Court if it's ready "

When he hung up, she flinched for no good reason at all except that Nick was in her home, standing a few feet away from her, and she was picturing him having sex with a girl on a horse. She turned to face him, praying he couldn't see any of that in her gaze.

"Could I get a glass of water from you?" he asked. She blinked, then stepped around him to reach in the overhead cabinet where she stored the glasses.

"I keep a cooler with me, but forgot to restock it this morning."

How unlike him. she thought, to actually offer casual conversation, yet she could think of nothing to say back. After filling the glass with ice, then purified water from the refrigerator, she turned to hand it to him, but made certain not to lift her gaze. Still, when his work-roughened fingers touched hers during the exchange, it was impossible not to look at him: his face, those piercing eyes. She' d have sworn he could see all her secrets.

She felt the need to fill the silence. "So, you're coming to Phil's tonight."

"Does that bother you?"

The question caught her off guard. "Why should it?"

"I don't think you like me."

Her chest tightened. She wished they weren't standing quite so close. "I never said that."

"You didn't have to."

She struggled for a reply, but again came up empty.

He lifted the glass and took a long swallow, and she casually waited, watched, praying all the while that she didn't appear to be studying him with rapt fascination.

"I don't have to go," he said, his eyes finding hers once more, "if it'll make you uncomfortable."

"Uncomfortable? Why would it make me uncomfortable?"

"You seem pretty uncomfortable right now."

She did? Of course she did. She gave her head another short shake. "I'm not. I'm just ... tired."

"Oh yeah, I remember-you weren't feeling well last night." He didn't reveal that familiar wicked hint of a smile, but she knew it was there, lurking just beneath the surface. "Well, maybe you should get some rest this afternoon. Save up your strength for tonight." With that, he drained the glass, lowered it to the counter, and headed toward the back door.

She knew what she needed strength for tonight facing the party, facing the people there, facing him. But she wondered just what he thought she needed strength for, just what he was implying, and even with his back to her now, she still felt the sex just oozing from him.

He paused at the door to point at the large bag of birdseed still resting there, forgotten. "This need to go outside?" She gave an abrupt nod. "I have some bird feeders at the back of the yard"