JanesPrize (17 page)

Chapter Nineteen

“Will you take me with you to your house
while you make the call?” Maria dabbed at her eyes with a lace-trimmed
handkerchief. “I’m so sure you will help me…”

“I suppose—” Jane began.

“No.” Pierce’s tone brooked no argument. He
put an arm ‘round Jane’s waist. “We’ll do whatever we do alone.” He spun on his
heel and Jane had to trot with him, heading back to their building.

Jane punched the button for the elevator.
“You don’t believe her.” Through the glass of the entrance doors she could see
the tops of the trees that bordered the park and blocked her view of the young
mother, the toddler on the swings and Maria. Maybe Maria hadn’t remained in the
park, staring after them with a piteous expression.

“Not one word.” Pierce stepped aside to let
an elderly couple exit from the elevator.

“But she was weeping about her boy.” The
elevator began its ascent.

“Weeping about herself, more like it. She
hasn’t an unselfish bone in her body. She sees a chance to start life again and
she means to grab it. Plus maybe some of the estate. It’s all about her.”

Jane shook her head as she put the key in
the lock of their apartment and closed the door behind them. The small flat was
a sanctuary, all theirs. No one else had stayed there since they moved in. It
held all the memories of their time together.

Pierce sank heavily onto the couch and
rubbed his hands through his hair, making it stand up in spikes. “Can I come to
your house?” He mimicked Maria’s soft voice. “No fucking way! If I never see
her again it’ll be too soon.”

Jane sat beside him and smoothed a wayward
lock over his forehead. She couldn’t imagine what it must be like to meet your
murderer in flesh and blood. She supposed Pierce was handling it well, all
things considered. “I’m sorry I upset you.”

“It wasn’t you, it was her.” Pierce patted
her hand. “God, I hate that woman.”

“So, what are we going to do? Do you think
she’ll go away if we ignore her?”

“No. I think she’ll hang around and worm
her way into our lives until she gets what she wants.” He sprang to his feet
and paced in the small space behind the couch. “Depending on what it is she
truly wants. She always was a devious, lying bitch.”

“But if the boy is in the house…” Jane
twisted around to see him. “Sit down, you’re giving me a crick in my neck.”

Pierce sat on the edge of the cushions.
“Hell, I don’t know. It wouldn’t surprise me if she made it all up. I never had
a hint that little Stan was there and God knows we re-enacted enough times over
the years.”

“But if it’s a true replaying of the scene
and you didn’t know he was there the first time—”

“Even if he was there…” Pierce turned
toward her and took her in his arms. “Even if what she says is true, why do I
owe her anything at all? She murdered me, remember? She cut short my life…”

Jane stroked his clenched jaw and kissed
the deep line at the side of his mouth. “I could still call Selma.” She kissed
him again. “Just to ask her opinion. To make sure what would be the best thing
to do.”

“The best thing is to stay as far away from
Maria as possible.”

“But if she’s here in the world and you
think she won’t go away…”

He sighed. “I know. Make the call if it
will put your mind at ease.”

“I’ll find the card she gave me.”

Three minutes later Jane replaced the
receiver. “She’s not there. I didn’t want to leave a message on the machine.
I’ll try again later.”

She looked at Pierce, still sitting on the
couch. In all the time she’d known him she’d never seen him look so dejected.
He had always been so confident, so full of life. Now a frown creased the space
between his eyes and his shoulders slumped.

“We’ll solve the problem,” she said softly.

He looked up. “Sure we will.” He reached
for her with a smile and she reclaimed her seat beside him.

“We can’t run and hide, or make her go away
as far as we know,” she said. “So we have to work at it. We have to find out
the truth, make a plan, follow through.”

Jane and Pierce sat side by side, holding
hands. She leaned into him, put her free hand on his knee and dropped her head
so it nestled against his jaw. She loved the scent of his shirt, of his skin,
loved the feel of strong muscles under her hand.

She felt his chest rise and fall as he took
a deep breath. She turned her face to him and pressed her lips to his. “We have
some time to kill,” she whispered, “and you’ve neglected me since we went to
Boston.”

Pierce responded with a deeper kiss, his
arms tightening ‘round her like a drowning man clinging to his only hope of
survival. Everything he knew about Maria and her sly, treacherous ways pounded
in his head like jungle drums, ominous, threatening. What he had told Jane was
true. His stepmother was a dangerous woman as well as an obstinate one. Of
course she wanted to stay in the modern world now she had found a way to cross
the barrier. Jane said they couldn’t send her away but he wasn’t so sure it
would be impossible. He just feared what they might have to do to rid themselves
of her presence.

He felt Jane’s fingers on the nape of his
neck and suddenly he was hard, his breath coming short and sharp. He was
suffused with longing for her, filled with an insatiable desire to possess her,
to reaffirm his existence in the warmth of her flesh. He was real, he was flesh
and blood. Alive, dammit, and not about to be deprived of what he had found. A
flicker of anger added a spark to the heat of his lust.

Still holding her, he rose to his feet and
steered her to the bedroom. A memory of all the times they had made love
flashed through his mind like an erotic video. At first he had wanted her
because she was there, she was young and willing and he’d been starved for sex.
Then he had felt grateful for what she did for him and, as he grew to know her,
he began to love her openness, her acceptance of him, her courage. She was
loyal. She loved to laugh. And how many women would have faced the knowledge of
his situation with such fearlessness and determination? At first she’d had no
idea that there would be any material benefit from helping him. That had been a
refreshing change from the women he had known in his first life.

But now that Maria had found them he sensed
that this amazing relationship they had forged together was in danger. He knew
they were moving into another phase, one where their commitment to each other
would be severely tested—and it scared him to death.

Give him a business document or a column of
figures and he could deal with them swiftly and coolly. This was something else.

In the bedroom the drapes were closed
against the glare of the sun. He stopped next to the bed and relaxed his hold
on her but kept his hands on her shoulders. His gaze scanned her from head to
toe. He pushed back her hair. There were summer freckles on her nose and he
kissed the tip with soft lips. Her skin was lightly tanned and he knew that if
he undressed her the honey color would shade to pearly white over her buttocks
and her breasts.

Her breath quickened as his fingers skimmed
her shoulders. His hand flowed down to her breasts and the nipples puckered,
standing out against the fabric of her shirt.

Her tongue darted out and moved slowly over
her lower lip, leaving a faint trace of moisture. He closed his eyes for a
brief moment, imagining her tongue sliding over the tip of his throbbing cock.

While her eyes never left his face he
undressed her slowly, deliberately delaying the release of her breasts from the
flimsy bra. When he removed it the beautiful globes swung free but he did not
touch them even though his fingers ached to encircle each one.

When he opened the snap of her shorts, the
fabric slid down her legs to pool at her feet. At last she stood before him
naked but for a dark green thong. He hooked his thumbs in the side loops and
pushed the last scrap of clothing down to the floor. As the piece of light
fabric traveled its downward path he heard her exhale a long breath.

Still she did not move. She stood
gloriously naked before him, this woman who had given him her friendship, her
body, her assistance and her love. She was the woman of all his dreams and he
might lose her.

“I don’t deserve you.” He pressed his lips
to the throb of her pulse in her neck. She placed her hands on his head and
held him close. He breathed in the apricot perfume of her skin.

“My turn,” she whispered, releasing him. If
he had been slow and deliberate in removing her clothes, she was quick and
decisive. In a few seconds she had tugged the shirt over his head, unsnapped
his pants. She kicked the clothing away from their feet. “We won’t need that
for a while.”

Her voice was husky and a thin sheen of
moisture beaded the delicious cleft between her breasts. He reached for her but
she pushed his arms away then smiled up at him. Reaching down, she cradled his
balls in her crooked fingers. His penis stood up, hard and ready. She stepped
one pace back and bent to seize the tip with her lips. He felt her tongue
linger on the sensitive head and he groaned aloud. In response she sucked him
in deep and he swayed on his feet.

“Oops.” She released him. “I love that,”
she said, “but maybe you should lie down.” She pushed him onto the bed. He had
no power to resist even if he’d wanted to.

She stroked his cock and balls with light
fingers. A tremor snaked through him. “I love the feel of your cock, the
texture, the satin feel. I love the taste of you.”

“You’ll kill me, woman,” he groaned.

“Never fear. No one died of this.” He
pulsed in her hand and she licked the pearly drops as they appeared.

He found a reserve of strength and took her
again in his arms, lifting her then lowering her on his body so her breasts
were crushed against his chest.

“I love your sexy mouth,” he murmured,
kissing her hard.

“I know and I love every bit of you.” She
hesitated. “I want to do something—”

He raised his head from hers, unsure of
what she meant. “What?”

“Something we’ve talked about but never
done.” She wound her arms around his neck and buried her face against his
shoulder. “I wasn’t ready.” Her nails scraped just below his ear and he tensed.

“Tell me.”

She let go her breath and raised her face
to bring her lips to his. Her tongue probed between his lips, entwining with
his. His heart rate notched up, if that were possible. His hands wandered down
her body until they rested on the curve of her buttocks. His fingers edged a
fraction into the cleft between her cheeks.

He felt her legs move apart in response.
“That’s it.” Her warm breath fluttered against his cheek as she spoke.

“This.” His fingers inched a knuckle deeper
into her cleft. He could hardly think, his mind and body swept away by what he
was doing to her.

“Yes, that. You told me you would do it
that way one day. I’m ready.”

To be sure, he had said he would do her
that way, back when he was arrogant, much too sure of himself, and before he
began to truly care. Then he had said it again before they went to see Selma.
He had even touched her, told her that he would show her, but he had never
imagined she would take the lead. If it ever happened he had supposed that he
would cajole, move her slowly toward acceptance.

“You’ve never done it.” He knew the answer
but he had to ask.

“Never. But it was exciting when you
touched me. I think I would like more.”

“Tell me exactly what you mean.” This had
the potential to destroy everything if he was mistaken. He had to get it right.

“Oh for heaven’s sake! What’s not to
understand?” Still lying on him, his hands moving in and around the cheeks of
her behind, she raised her head to look into his eyes. Speaking slowly and
clearly, she said, “I want you to fuck me in the ass.”

His throat went dry. He was positive she
had never framed that sentence before in her life. His balls tightened. “You’re
sure?”

She nodded. “You’re being deliberately
obtuse. Read my lips. We’ve done everything else together. Your fingers have even—been
partway.” He saw a flush rise in her cheeks. “If I’m ever going to do it I want
it to be with you. And I think you want it.”

“If you do.” His heart thumped so loudly in
his chest he thought she would hear it. His cock made the decision for him. “I’ll
do it right.”

“I know.” She smiled that smile that raised
just the corners of her mouth and raised his temperature to fever pitch. She
reached for a condom in the bedside table. “Will you need this?”

“Thank you.” He took it from her. “Then
let’s do it.”

He grasped her hips and rolled her off him
onto her back, propping himself on one elbow. She gazed up at him, her blue
eyes wide and trusting.

He let his fingers blaze a trail down the
silk of her body, pausing over the white patches of her breasts and groin. Then
he followed the same path with his lips and his tongue, licking and kissing as
he went.

She quivered and her nipples stood up in
twin peaks again. He circled one tip with his tongue then took it between his
lips, nuzzling until she gasped and her hips began to lift in a slow rhythm.

He lavished more attention on her breasts
until her hands found his and she tried to move them lower. He manacled her
wrists with one hand and held them while he scooted down her body, pausing at
her belly button, teasing it with his tongue. She began to writhe and gasp
aloud.

“You have to endure a bit more, my love.”

Releasing her hands, he slipped his
forearms under her buttocks to lift her mound to his mouth. Then he thrust his
tongue between her pussy lips and began to lick and suck, inhaling the sweet,
musky aroma of her arousal.

“Pierce, please.” Her hips picked up the
movement, dancing to a wild musical beat, and her head rolled from side to
side.