Stardust Miracle (10 page)

And maybe for herself, too.

“Yes, I want to be your first.”

“Are you just feeling sorry for—”

“Shut up. Just shut up.” She brought her knee up too quickly and it banged into the divider between their seats, sending a quick, sharp pain to her kneecap. A noise escaped her mouth.

Immediately he bent toward her, hands on her shoulder. “Are you all right?”

The pain lessened as she smiled at him. “I think we need to take this to the backseat.”

He didn’t reply, the silence loud. His face was only a couple of inches away from hers. In the dimness she couldn’t read his emotions. But she
felt
his excitement.
Felt
his heat.
Felt
his tension.

And hers. She quivered with tension. Quivered with heat.

 “Shouldn’t we go to the hotel?” he asked.

“Artie Morgan works there.”

“I wish I could take you to my house, but...”

She sat back, pulling out of his grip. She grabbed the door handle. “The backseat or the back door?”

“The backseat,” he said, his voice low and intense.

They each went out their door, and she felt odd opening the back door. She felt odd getting in. A bit giddy, as if she’d stepped into a time machine that moved backward twenty years and she was once again a teenager with a cute boy.

His door closed before hers and he slid to her side. Then his arms slid around her, and they kissed. His lips were soft and she put her right arm around his back, her other arm caught between them.

If this were the first time he kissed a woman, he was a fast learner. She was getting warm with her jacket on. Her rising body heat and his had something to do with it, too.

At the same instant that she started to feel uncomfortable, her neck protesting the angle, he stopped the kiss and pulled away, breathing heavily.

“Do you have a condom?” she asked.

“Yes. I drove to Tomahawk this afternoon to buy it.”

She laughed, and so did he. She reached up and cupped the left side of his face. “I’ve often wondered. How is it that no girl has snatched you up?”

“I’m no prize.”

“Are you kidding? You’re the grand prize.”

“I’m a geek. I’m not what the girls around here want.”

“Maybe you’ve been looking at the wrong girls.”

He shook his head. “I’m not looking at a girl. I’m looking at a woman.”

She stilled. Then she smiled. Of course he was looking at her. He
liked
her. And she liked him. Once he’d found out about her split with Jim, he probably thought she’d be a safe person to have a fling with and lose his virginity.

An ache pulsed through her. He was right. She’d be wonderful. Accepting. Non-judging. And grateful.

Maybe she should say no, but there was a sweetness about him that made her feel vibrant and voluptuous. Made her feel treasured. 

“I won’t regret this,” she said.

They kissed again. This time she pulled away first. Though she’d had sex fairly regularly for the last twenty years, she was certainly no expert. But there was one thing she knew.

“This works better if we take our clothes off.”

“Won’t you be cold?”

“You’ll warm me, won’t you?”

They fumbled with their clothes. Zippers unzipping, buttons snapping open. Clothes swishing. His breaths were harsh. Hers made little puffing sounds. 

He finished before her and she could smell him, his scent sharper now. She wondered if hers was, too. Her body was heated from the inside out. Her nerve endings ready for him.

She held back giggles. This was the most exciting and crazy thing she’d done in...forever. And with Derek of all people. Her friend.

Her bare feet flat on the car’s floor, she lifted her tush to take off her panties, feeling his gaze on her. The first man to see her naked...other than Jim.

She turned to Derek. His arms reached out to draw her to him. She put her hands against his chest, stopping him. “I’m going to make this good for you.” She resolved to give him a time he wouldn’t forget. It was going to be so good that if he grew to an old age and kept his memories, he was going to think of her often and smile.

“I’m going to make it good for you, too,” he said back, just as fiercely, and she had the quick impression that he’d thought about being naked with her before. Maybe thought about it often.

They kissed again, skin against skin. He touched her. Her back and her breasts. He held her too close for her to do more than clutch his back, though she felt his erection against her belly, heavy and full.

She pulled away. Her body felt full and heavy, too. And hot. So hot inside.

“We need to be a little apart, so I can touch you,” she said.

“Just let me touch you.” And he did. Gentle and sweet and reverent. Every place he touched came to life.

“This is supposed to be for
you
,” she said. “I want you to know how it feels to be touched.”

“I know how it feels to be touched. I touch myself all the time. I don’t know what it’s like to touch a woman.” His fingers slid between her legs. “Like this.”

His touch and the huskiness in his voice made her shiver. The air chilled her and she turned to him, but he didn’t stop touching her. She leaned forward and bit his shoulder. Not hard but enough to make him moan.

She didn’t know where that came from. She had a powerful need to touch him all over, but he was touching her all over, and there wasn’t room in the backseat for them both to do it. She explained that to him, and he said the next time they’d find another place to do it.

There might not be a next time, she thought, and she clutched him tight as he told her how warm and silky she was.

“Juicy,” she told him, and he laughed in her left ear and said he was getting juicy, too.

Then she told him they’d better do it before it was too late. She moved off him, and he picked up his slacks from the floor and pulled a packet out of his pocket. She helped him roll it on, and they laughed again, breathily and a bit nervously. Both of them were longer than the backseat, and they discussed positions, adding to the awkwardness.

Though she wasn’t an expert, she could think of a couple ways to do it. After all, knees were made to bend. He was already sitting, and she ended the discussion by climbing on top of him, her legs spread. Then she rode him, up and down in an erratic tempo until he clasped his hands over her ribs and helped her find the rhythm for their backseat dance.

His breaths were harsh and fierce and hers were gasps. She’d started this with her heart feeling tender, but soon the tenderness traveled to her thighs that hadn’t had a workout this intense since... Not ever.

 It was going to be worse tomorrow, she thought, slowing and moving back a fraction of an inch. A delicious feeling shivered through her. She repeated the movement. And repeated. Another repeat and she clutched him. Her body shuddered, and she pressed her mouth against his shoulder to keep from crying out. Not caring if she left teeth prints on his shoulder.

His hands, curled around her upper arms, tightened and he jerked beneath her, calling out. A sound of triumph that made Goldie bark inside the house.

She sagged against him and his arms moved behind her back, holding her up, his breaths still harsh and ragged. She closed her eyes, her cheek against his shoulder, and wished she could fall asleep like this. Only that was impractical and silly.

The next instant he was sitting up straight, saying, “Holy shit. The back light is on.”

Chapter Fourteen

Sunlight streamed boldly into the kitchen, while Becky entered quietly, almost on tiptoes, though she’d come from the guest room, which she’d slept in by herself for the last six hours. But she still felt like a kid sneaking in, which was ridiculous. When she was a kid, she didn’t have sex in the backseat of cars.

Marsh was gone at least. He’d left early this morning to drive to a small town in Minnesota, a four-and-a-half-hour drive. An antique collector he’d done business with in the past had died, and his kids called to say they wanted to clean up the place.

Not that they were giving it away. Sarah had scowled when she’d told Becky about it yesterday, saying amateurs were worse than pros. They looked up what the items went for at auction and expected the same amount.

Maybe Marsh hadn’t told Sarah what happened last night. After all, it must have embarrassed him, too, catching her and Derek in the backseat of Derek’s car, scrambling to put on their clothes.

Just thinking about it, Becky wanted to crawl into a dark space and hide. Standing by the counter, Sarah turned to her with a huge smile, the picture of a pregnant, glowing woman.

“You did it!” Sarah leapt at Becky and hugged her tight. Then she laughed, long and loud. Shaking her head. “I only wish Jim had seen it. Serves him right.”

Becky winced. Plopping into a chair, she put her elbows on the table top and bent forward, her head down, her hands on top of her head. Her hair tumbled over her cheeks, hiding her face. Today she wished for an invisibility cloak.

She could’ve used one last night, too.

“I don’t know what came over me last night,” she said.

Sarah grinned. “I don’t know what came over you, either, but I know what got into you.” 

“Bitch.” Becky picked up a crumpled napkin and threw it at Sarah. It bounced off her chin and onto the floor.

Ignoring the napkin on the floor, Sarah sat on a chair and leaned in toward Becky. “So, how was he?”

“He was...very good.” Becky raised her eyebrows at Sarah. Being desired so much had been the very good part. “Are you happy now?”

“I want details.”

“You’re not getting any.” She wanted badly to tell Sarah that she’d been Derek’s first. Sarah could keep her mouth shut, but of course she’d tell Marsh. Though Marsh was fairly discreet – as far as Becky knew – what if he had another go-to person to share with? And that person had one. And so on and so on. “I don’t think I can face him again.”

Sarah laughed but not unkindly. “Don’t feel bad, you’re just going through the hump and dump syndrome.”

“The what?”

“You haven’t heard of it?” Sarah shrugged. “I’ve known several women who went through the stage. I’m sure men do the same thing. Divorce is a form of rejection, so they tend to have quick, hot relationships to get back into control and feel desirable again.”

Becky lifted her hands to cover her face again. “Oh God. That’s me.”

Sarah laughed again.

“Heartless bitch.” Becky brought down her hands and made a face. “I’m not planning to dump Derek. I just feel...uncomfortable.”

Sarah’s laughter stopped, and she was making a ‘yuck’ face, like she did cleaning up after the animals. “You don’t really want him.”

“I don’t know. Sure, he’s younger—”

“It’s nothing to do with the age difference.”

“There’s nothing else to dislike about him. He makes decent money. He’s nice. He’s cute.” Her voice lowered, and so did her eyes as she gazed at a spot of ketchup still there from last night’s dinner. “And he
wants
me.”

“See. I told you. It’s part of the syndrome. Feeling desirable again. None of what you said will make up for his mama.”

“I like Elaine.”

“So do I, but...” Sarah held up one finger in a ‘wait’ order, then got off the chair and swooped down to a cupboard. She came up with a long, narrow container that said CLING PLUS on the side. She set it on the counter and started pulling the cellophane out.

“She’s a little clingy,” Becky said. “I agree. But—”

“No buts. No talk, either. This is a dramatic demonstration.”

Becky laughed nervously as Sarah efficiently tore off a two-foot long sheet. “You’re scaring me.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t hurt you.” She raised her head and gave her a shark smile. “Much. Give me your arm.”

Becky held out her arm. “You’re bossy. What is this? Show and tell?”

“It’s show and
learn
.” Sarah held the cellophane paper so it wouldn’t curl up, then swooshed it under Becky’s arm. “Your arm is Derek.”

Becky put her lips together to hold back a giggle. Easy to see Sarah had been spending most of her days with a six-year-old.

A small frown of concentration appeared on Sarah’s forehead as she wrapped the cellophane around Becky’s lower arm four times. Tightly. Too tightly. Constricting Becky’s arm.

Sarah smoothed the line so it wouldn’t curl up, then sat back on her chair, her hands on her thighs. “The cellophane is his mama.”

“A little overkill, isn’t it?” Becky reached out with her left hand to pull it off. But the cellophane fought her. It felt icky on her arm, wouldn’t allow the pores of her skin to breathe. “You wrapped it too tight.”

“I told you, it’s Derek’s mama.” Sarah crossed her arms, her chin stubborn. “That’s how she rolls. Do you need a man that bad?”

Frowning, Becky grabbed an edge and started to peel off the paper. “I’ll have to see him again. He’s a sweet guy. If I don’t, I’ll feel like a slut.”

“About time you got slutty and had some fun.”

“But this was...special.” Becky balled up the cling wrap. “You promise not to tell anyone?”

Inching forward to the edge of her seat, Sarah nodded.

“He was a virgin.”

Sarah snorted a laugh, then held up her hand to show she was done laughing. “Good. When you tell him it’s too soon to get involved with anyone, he’ll still be grateful to you. At least he’s not a virgin anymore.”

“That’s bad,” Becky said. “That’s really bad.”

“Nope, that’s life.” Sarah got up from the chair. “I should leave. I’m taking the tables I repurposed out of old farm doors to a designer in Medford.”

“Repurposed?”

“I take something old and make it new. Sometimes better than new. I scrape them down, saw them to size if needed, paint them, and sell them.”

“No kidding. I knew you were doing something like that with the door in the puppy room once the puppies are gone. But I didn’t realize how talented you were.”

“You don’t need talent to do it.” Sarah laughed but her face turned pink. “Would you like to see them? I’ll show them to you.”