* * * * *
“So, how about the movie?” he asked, as they walked to the parking lot after the end of the program.
“Do they offer popcorn at erotic film festivals? Milk Duds?”
“Barbarian,” he said, with affection. He laid an arm over her shoulders, his fingers caressing the skin on her arm. She slid away, self-conscious.
“I thought we said this wasn't a date. Seat between us, and all that.”
A flash of temper crossed his face, but she saw him rein it in with difficulty. “So I did,” he said. “But will you let me drive you there? It's not far, and we can come back for your car.”
“I'll follow,” she said.
He stopped by his vehicle and slid his left hand into his pocket. “Sarah,” he said quietly. “I said I'd give you a week to consider where you want to go on this. But it doesn't sound like you're considering. It sounds like you're trying to build a wall as fast
80
If Wishes Were Horses
as you possibly can, so at the end of a week you'll be so solidly behind it that whatever
is between us will be less than a memory.”
How could she explain that her defensiveness came from the fact that he kicked away every foundation stone before she could barely plant one into the ground?
“How come you haven't asked about the status of the investigation? The realreason,” she challenged him, before that smooth mask could settle over his expression.
“The real reason. Let's see,” he pulled out his key fob, stabbed the unlock button so the car chirped at them. “There are three. One, I figured it was police business and you couldn't chat up the details with me, seeing as you think I'm involved. Two, I've already told you I know what killed her, but you aren't ready to talk about that. Three, when I see you, dead bodies are not what immediately comes to my mind. Unfortunately, it’s apparently what comes to the forefront of yours.”
He yanked open the door, slid behind the wheel. Sarah braced a hand against thehip side of her practical tailored black skirt. She had coordinated it with a gold blouse,over which she had worn her badge on a gold chain. She didn’t like wearing a gun in a school, even though she knew the absence of the sidearm always disappointed the kids.
“So, I guess you're mad now and you don't want me to go with you to the movies.”
Justin pressed his fingers to his eyelids as if he'd just developed a pounding headache. She tried to suppress the amusement in her face when he jerked his gaze back up to her.
“You're goading me.”
“Giving it a shot.” She shrugged. “You're too smooth, Herne. Makes me nervous, and it annoys the shit out of me.”
“I know the feeling.”
In a move she should have seen coming, he caught her wrist, yanked her forward so she tumbled across his lap. Sarah caught the soft fabric of the passenger seat and let out a yelp as he slapped her smartly on the ass three times and then spun her over in his arms so she was cradled in them on his thighs, the wheel pressing her in close to him. He did it so fast, she didn't have time to do much more than stare at him before he waskissing her, his hand holding her jaw, keeping her still as he plunged between her lips and took over.
Her bottom tingled from the none-too-gentle spanking, and it translated to aprickling sensation between her legs that his mouth stimulated with the dexterity of his tongue against hers. She couldn't think when he kissed her like this, so she held on andmoaned softly into his mouth, clutching his shoulder with her free hand, her otherpinned between her hip and his lower belly, her fingers latching onto his belt, hooking into his waistband.
She tasted his impatience and anger, and rather than raising the same emotions within her, it softened her, because she felt his need, not just in the obvious place,pressing against her abused ass, but as an emotional hunger. While it was that needinstead of the physical need that kept motivating her to retreat and spar with him, to
81
Joey W. Hill
hold him at bay until she could get control, it was perversely those same emotions that made her want to get closer. To enjoy feeling desired and cared for as she had at the beginning of her marriage, before it somehow had vanished, as if it had been an illusion all along.
She shoved at him and began to struggle, like a cat fighting its way out of a bathtub.
She was breathing hard, and his eyes coursed in deliberate appraisal over her tight nipples, down to her crotch where she knew as well as he did how wet she was. Then he lifted his attention to her face and let her see the intensity of those dark eyes, the desire to pull her into them, into his body, and immerse her in all the pleasures they promised. Her backside still stung, her lips were swollen, her breasts ached, and her thighs trembled. He had done it with three swats and one kiss. She suspected the man could kill her with actual sex.
Or worse, destroy her heart and mess up her senses so she had no radar left. Her radar had been damaged by her marriage and she hadn't figured out how to makerepairs yet, though she'd been sure that getting involved with someone too soon was the wrong way to go about it.
He didn't let her scramble away. He lifted her in those lean arms that shouldn't be so strong and scooted her over into the passenger seat.
“We'll take my car,” he said. “The theater's only a few miles away.”
He started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot before she could think of anything intelligent to say, and then she didn't know what to say at all.
“So, how
is
the investigation going?”
She shot a glance at him, saw the smile flirting about his lips, and her tension eased.
“Jerk.”
He laughed, picked up her hand and kissed it, a quick brush of lips, then held it throughout the short trip.
She was content to let him do just that, and wondered at his ability to return them to an even balance with a few words, when he was equally adept at yanking the floor out from beneath her feet.
82
If Wishes Were Horses
Chapter 12
The film festival was being held in a restored 1950’s movie house downtown. There was a glittering chandelier in the front lobby, illuminating a tapestry carpet and wallspapered in rich reds and golds. The concession stand offered kettle corn as well asbuttered, and a selection of old time candies in clear glass containers with metal scoops to deposit one cup servings into small brown paper bags. Chocolate-coated raisins asbig as grapes, maple nut clusters and Jordan Almonds all caught her eye, but it was theperfect cubes of chocolate covered caramel she could imagine melting on her tongueeven before Justin bought her a bagful. He waved away her money and got her a frosty fountain coke as well.
The ushers dressed in black tie formal wear escorted them into the theater. As they stepped down the aisle, Sarah felt Justin’s hand at the small of her back, a gentle possession and protectiveness that her husband had never offered. As if because she was a woman who could protect herself physically she didn't need to feel protected emotionally by the warmth and strength of a man.
They were shown to two seats along the aisle, and the usher courteously encouraged them to make it known if anything interfered with their movie-going experience. The seats had deep red soft cushions, and the screen was covered by a heavy velvet curtain with gold tassels. Classical music mixed with familiar movie soundtrack scores played quietly over the hushed murmurings of other attendees. The theater was filling up rapidly, and as far as Sarah could tell, it was going to be a full house. Most attendees were well-dressed pairings, coming in groups or as a single couple.
“It's crowded,” she said.
“You sound surprised.” He chuckled. “Sex is legal and it feels good, Sarah, to men and women. There aren't enough venues that make women feel comfortable to indulge their sensual curiosity. This is one of them. Ergo, a crowd.”
“I guess.” She settled next to Justin in the dim light. She immediately fished in the bag in his hand and took one of the caramels. “I haven’t really been to any kind of movie in years.”
“Why not?”
“Mmm…” She didn’t answer right away, closing her eyes as the outer chocolate coating melted upon contact with her tongue. She bit down, mixing the flavor of the soft caramel with its lingering taste. “Oh, God. I might have found something better than sex.” She cracked open a lid, grinned. “Almost.”
“That’s a relief.” He chuckled. “You don’t like going to movies?”
83
Joey W. Hill
“Well, I used to. It’s just not like this anymore. It's rude people, cell phones, twenty advertisements instead of previews before the movie, dirty floors and worse bathrooms because the employees could care less. I got tired of it, and stopped going. Thirty bucks to listen to some inconsiderate moron behind you talk about his tax returns to his buddies throughout the whole movie.”
He nodded. “I discovered this place last year. They have to struggle to keep going,but it's always a pleasant experience. The ushers are here to make sure people don't actthat way, so don't worry, you shouldn’t have to draw your gun to keep people settled down. You can just enjoy the movie.” He touched her chin with a finger. “And the company. I liked your talk on drugs. I plan to go home and throw away all my heroin and needles tonight.”
She snorted. “Yeah, I can tell you're the type with railroad tracks up your arms. Glad to put you back on the straight and narrow.”
“I'm glad you came tonight,” he murmured.
“You didn't tell the usher to leave a seat between us.”
“Well, it was crowded, and you couldn't reach the caramels.”
“I could if you'd let me hold them,” she retorted. “I'll make you go buy me another bag.”
“I'll buy you ten more if you want,” he smiled down at her, “and then hold your head while you throw them up.”
She flushed, looked away. “You need to stop it.”
“Stop what, Sarah? Enjoying you? Desiring to pleasure you, make you laugh? I like you, very much.” He leaned closer, spoke with his nose pressed against her hair. “I desire you, I want you, I crave you like a drug. You didn't tell the kids what to do about that.” The tip of his tongue touched the delicate skin just behind her outer ear and she shivered. “I don’t think 'Just say no' is going to be a very effective method for me.”
“Quit it.”
“No. Every time I'm around you, I get lost. All I want is to plunge into you, be absorbed in you, drown in you.” He caught her chin before she could pull away, and whispered the next words into the shell of her ear. “That's not a line, Sarah. No one's ever made me want to open myself up like that. I thought when I finally met her it would be a slow thing, some gradual attraction or friendship that would turn into something more. I saw you, and I got it all at once. The attraction, the lust, the need to know you, be your friend, earn your respect. It's damned unsettling, but I’ll be damned if I’ll let it become some high burn infatuation that will use up its fuel too fast. I want it to last, for a long, long time.”
Now his fingers eased so she could pull back, stare up at him in the dim light provided by the brass wall sconces and overhead chandeliers. His countenance was alive with the emotions he had expressed, and they were drawing her in, like sirens calling her toward the rocks hidden in the pounding surf off a beach.
84
If Wishes Were Horses
There was one free seat to her left. She got up, moved over, moved her coke over tothat seat’s cup holder. Justin watched her, his dark eyes like lagoons cloaked in themysterious shadows of ancient trees. “What are you doing?”
“Making sure the fuel doesn’t burn too fast,” she said. “And retreating, a little bit.”
“Because you want to, or because you're scared?”
“Because I'm scared.” She couldn't be less than honest with him.
“Okay,” he said after a moment, though she saw that tic of muscle along the line of his jaw. He settled back and held out his hand, his knuckles resting on the cushioned seat between them that was still warm from her body.
Sarah considered his open palm, the lines that creased the skin, the welcoming strength it offered. She laid her hand in his, felt his fingers close around it as the theater darkened and the curtain rolled back with a rhythmic clacking noise.
Justin leaned over, tugged her so she came close enough he could speak to her without disturbing the others. “This film is a montage of images and music, with storylines interspersed. It's about an inundation of the senses, not a plot line. It's supposed to be director Marie Gerault's finest erotic piece to date.”
She felt a slight pressure against her leg and looked down. He was holding out the small bag of caramels, giving them to her to hold. Sarah positioned the bag between her thighs so she could use her one hand to dip in, and kept her other hand linked in the firm grasp of his on the seat between them.
He had on cologne tonight, the smell of a well-groomed man, a man who had taken care to be pleasing to her. With that and his two tickets, it was obvious he had known she’d taken Eric’s place on the speakers’ list. She drew a deep breath and let that thought and those scents fill her. The first strains of the film score began.