Eleven Page 6

  He looked me into the eyes when he said, “You know, if someone really loves you, they make you feel appreciated. They make you feel important. They make everything worth it. They make you feel it in everything they do and it makes you want to return it. It makes you better. I haven’t felt that way in long time. But I’m starting to remember how it feels again. And I like it.”

  Once again, he elicited a big smile from me. I understood his words. It was reassuring to know that this wasn’t a one sided thing; he was feeling it, too.

  He approached a rather touchy subject when he asked, “So, why didn’t you ever have any kids?” He fumbled, “I mean do you like kids? Do you ever want to have any children?”

  “Well, that’s a loaded question, Mister!” I tried to lighten the mood and continued, “Of course. I’ve always wanted kids. I just never found myself in the right situation. To make a long story short, I just never found a sperm donor with a good man attached.”

  He threw his head back in laughter.

  Changing the subject, he asked, “So tell me, sugar britches, do you know how to dance?”

  “Ummm, yeah. Why?”

  I didn’t want to let him in on another surprise I was keeping up my sleeve. Not only did I know how to dance: like any self-respecting girl from Texas, I loved to dance. In fact, back in the day, I had won a jitter-bug contest—or two—or three. There wasn’t much else I would rather do than scoot a boot.

  “Well,” he continued, “they’re havin’ some live music at a place in town tonight. Since there’s not much for us to do out here except get into a whole bunch a trouble, I thought you might like to go into town.”

  He wasn’t suggesting we go back to the city. He was referring to the town that was about forty-five minutes away. It sounded like a good idea—and I welcomed any idea that was conducive to helping me stick to the rules. I was going to need all the help I could get!

  “Sure, that sounds like fun. I can’t think of a thing I would rather do—of course, with the exception of maybe getting into a whole bunch of trouble with you!” I whipped back at him as we got up to grab our coats before heading for town.

  This time, it was I who gave him a hearty swat on his backside—and all he could do was grin.

  Chapter 13

  Sawdust and Silk

  The local dancehall was a rustic hole-in-the wall kind of place, but the band was unbelievably good. They covered major artists’ songs that were perfect for dancing. You could tell most of the couples dancing had been together for a while by their familiarity with each other’s steps and turns as they left sliding trails of sawdust on the wooden dance floor.

  “Would you like a glass of wine?” he asked.

  “Actually, I would like a mug of Coors Light if they have it on tap. If not, I’ll take a bottle,” I replied.

  “That’s my girl,” he said with wink.

  He returned to the table carrying two frosty mugs of cold beer.

  The band started playing a Trace Adkins song called ‘There’s a Girl in Texas’.

  He grabbed me by the hand and said, “Let’s go shake a tail feather.”

  We made our way out onto the dance floor. He placed his right hand in the small of my back as I placed my left hand on the back of his shoulder.

  One, two—one. One, two—one. One, two—one. Our steps and rhythm were in perfect sync. He was a great lead and easy to follow.

  We danced until we had both broken a sweat—and until it was time for the band to take a break. We returned to our barstools and finished off another cold beer.

  “You ‘bout ready to blow this joint?” he asked.

  I agreed it was time to make our departure. The beer was starting to hit me. I didn’t want to put myself in the compromising position of having to refuse another mug. Tonight was going to require every ounce of resolve I could muster to find the strength to refuse him.

  As I had become accustomed, he opened my door then went around and jumped in his side of the cab. He turned the ignition key and when the dashboard lights came on, there it was again: the clock was flashing 11:11. The coincidence did not go unnoticed by him.

  With a chuckle he stated, “Have you ever repeatedly noticed a certain number on the clock? It seems like I never miss seeing the time 11:11, especially within the past couple of weeks.”

  A strange coincidence, indeed! He almost had me believing in the possibility that fate had brought us together.

  The beer had obviously had a slight effect on him, as well. He seemed to have his guard down a bit. I could barely detect any trace of shyness or distance in him.

  “There’s something I think we should do. Something I haven’t done in a really long time,” he said with a twinkle in his eye.

  “And just what would that be, Mister?”

  “I wanna go parkin’!” he blurted out excitedly.

  All I could do was laugh. We were on the ranch road and he was keeping a lookout for the closest turn-row—again. As soon as he spotted one in the head-lights, he made a quick turn. We barreled up the dirt road.

  All of a sudden, something ahead caused him to slam on his brakes as the truck fish-tailed to the side and came to a sliding stop. Directly in front of us in the turn-row, someone had dumped an old chair, end table and mattress.

  Both of us burst into laughter as he questioned, “Do you think that’s a sign?”

  He turned the truck around and headed back down the turn-row. We came to a stop about a hundred yards from the main road.

  This time, he didn’t pull me over the console. He carefully chose a CD from his glove compartment and slid it inside the player. It was a Dave Koz CD. He opened up his door and when he reached my side of truck, he discovered I had already crawled into the back seat of the cab. He didn’t waste any time joining me.

  As the soft saxophone music played, he pulled my legs over his lap and cradled me in his arms; which was quickly becoming my favorite place in the entire universe. And here it came—ahhhh—the kiss. We nestled into one another and began our lingual dance. There was a comforting sense of familiarity between our bodies. There was no space between us and every nook and curve fit together seamlessly.

  I lightly tugged on his hair as he kissed me deeply. His immense, manly hands moved over my body. He began to kiss me with more urgency as our bodies writhed in the leather seats. My head was turned to the side; still locked onto his lips, while my body was turned away from his. He pressed his excitement against my backside, grinding his hardness against me, as his hand slid under my shirt. His touch caressed my belly and slipped under my bra. Our breathing was rapid and sharp.

  Then he turned my body toward his and pulled my long leg over his hip. He reached up; slowly and methodically unbuttoning my blouse, then reaching behind to unclasp my bra.

  He sat up in the seat, pulling me up to straddle his lap. I leaned back and grabbed his black hat from the front seat. I allowed my blouse to fall from my shoulders and slipped out of my bra, straightened up and looked seductively into his eyes as I felt his passion growing and pulsing through the fabric of our jeans.

  We rocked against each other as he reached up and massaged my naked breasts. I reached forward; unsnapped his shirt and slowly raked my fingernail tips against the neatly trimmed, dark hair on his chest that ran down the middle of his muscular belly.

  He groaned and in a deep, guttural tone, he looked up at me and said, “You’re about the sexiest damn thing I’ve ever seen.”

  I leaned forward and began kissing him again; but more tenderly this time. I pressed my chest against his. The skin contact was electrifying and dizzying.

  He grabbed my hands and held them behind my back. Leaning forward, he began to tease my left nipple with his mouth, and then moved his attention to the right. He alternated sucking and lightly flicking them with his tongue. I felt a pulsating, fiery volt shooting along the V from my nipples to my clit, which had begun to throb.

  I don’t know if it was out of reciprocity or curiosity,
but could no longer resist the urge to slide my hand lower. I pulled a hand loose from his grip and reached down. My palm and fingers rubbed the outline of his manhood straining against the taught denim. He moaned and pressed against my hand.

  Oh, my God. That part of him was most definitely in proportion with his height. The size of his hands had not given any false indication. There was absolutely nothing about him that could be considered a disappointment. In fact, I was rather pleased with what I had just discovered. Once again, we found each other smiling as we kissed.

  Just as our desire was about to reach the point of no return, he put his hands on my hips and said softly, “Hey, beautiful. This isn’t the time or place for this to happen. I have something much more special in mind for you. I want you so badly, but I want it to be perfect for us. I think too much of you for our first time together to be in the back seat of a truck. I want it to be the most unforgettable time of our lives.”

  We reassembled our disarrayed clothing. I climbed back into the front seat as he got out and took the driver’s seat. He looked over and realized I was still wearing his hat.

  “Sister, you’re gonna drive me crazy,” he sighed while shaking his head.

  “Well, Mister, you’re driving me wild. So, maybe you’ll get crazy and I’ll go wild together someday soon,” I offered.

  “Very soon, I promise! Just not now, but soon,” he replied.

  We reached the ranch house and he accompanied me to the master bedroom. My tulips were in a vase on the nightstand. There were two beautifully wrapped packages on the cedar bench.

  “Are those for me?” I asked.

  “Yes. One is for now. The other one is for later,” he said with a somewhat serious look in his eye.

  He handed me the flat, rectangular package and said, “Go ahead, open it.”

  I removed the ribbons and wrapping paper and opened up the box. Underneath the tissue paper inside was a beautiful, champagne pink silk chemise set. It was trimmed with a lace inset at the bust-line.

  “It’s lovely. Thank you,” I beamed.

  “Here, open this one now,” he said as he offered me the larger box.

  I peeled away the paper away and he carefully used his pocket knife to cut the seams of the box. I blushed as I looked at the contents of the box; not out of embarrassment, but rather excitement.

  From inside the box, I pulled out a black leather, studded bra and thong set. To top it off, there was a matching choker and thigh high, platform leather boots. As I removed each item, I laid them across the bed.

  I turned to him, looked him in the eye and purred, “I told you, you’re a dangerous man.”

  His face flushed and eyes gleamed as he instructed me, “I’m going to the bar to pour myself a drink. When I get back, I’ll let you model your choice for me.”

  He walked out of the room. I took all of the items into the bathroom. Oh, God! The rules, the rules, those fucking rules!

  I knew I couldn’t mess this up! I didn’t do what I wanted to do, but I did what I had to do. I made my decision and slipped into the lingerie.

  I peeked around the door and saw him sitting in the leather chair in front of the fireplace. He was sipping on a tumbler of Scotch. I slowly opened the door and walked into the bedroom.

  He looked immensely pleased at the sight of me standing there—in the pink chemise set.

  “Come here,” he requested.

  As I walked toward him, I slipped out of the robe and let it fall to the floor. I sat in his lap wearing only the delicate slip. He threw the last gulp of scotch back into his throat and swallowed, then picked me up and carried me to the turned down bed.

  He tucked me in and leaned over me, kissing my forehead.

  “Sweet dreams, beautiful,” he whispered as he turned off the lamp on the nightstand. “You’ve given me much to dream about.”

  He got up and walked to the door. This time, he turned the lock himself before closing the door behind him.

  I was most thankful for two things: that he had carried me to the bed and that he obviously had more willpower than I. I was so weak in the knees from desire that I knew I couldn’t have made it to the bed unaided. And I would not have had the power to resist him had he joined me under the covers that night.

  I rolled over and hugged the extra pillow while inhaling the fragrance of him. Although the sheets were freshly laundered, I could smell the scent of him deep inside the pillow. It wasn’t the beer that had left me intoxicated—it was him.

  When I awoke the next morning, I dressed and met him at the breakfast table.

  He advised me, “We are going to have to cut the weekend short. I got a call this morning and unfortunately, there is some business I have to take care of this week. After I take you home, I have to head to New Mexico. I have a meeting tomorrow in Artesia to take care of some oil lease business. I’m sorry we have to cut things short, but that’s just the nature of the beast. I gotta do what I gotta do.”

  “That’s fine. I’ll get my things together,” I said.

  We made it back to my house around 2:00 o’clock that afternoon. He unloaded my things and came inside to say goodbye.

  All of a sudden, a touch of sadness came over me. I was sad that the weekend was nearly over. I would be returning to reality bright and early at 8:00 am the following morning. I wasn’t ready for it to end. I didn’t look forward to missing him.

  However, my mood picked up when he said, “How much vacation notice do you have to give at work?”

  “Why?” I inquired.

  “Well. After I take care of my business in Artesia, I’ll be going up to the Northern part of the state. I have a place in Santa Fe and thought we might could spend a week or so together. What’d ya say?” he questioned.

  I perked up and answered, “I’ll tell my boss first thing tomorrow morning!”

  I didn’t care if he fired me over it. There was no way I was going to miss an opportunity like this!

  “Good. It’s settled then,” he told me, “I’ll have a car pick you up on Friday afternoon. Your ticket will be at the airport. I’ll arrange for a driver to pick you up in Albuquerque and drive you to my place once you arrive.”

  It was another long week of missing him. But, this time, we took our knowledge of each other to a whole new level. Just like the other week I had spent without him, he called every night. Our conversations took a different tone. We learned even more personal details about one another. More specifically, we shared our deepest, darkest desires—over the phone.

  It wasn’t “phone sex”. It was a confidential disclosure of our most private longings. Neither of us had ever shared that depth of intimacy with anyone else. He had made me privy to the beat of his erotic pulse. It became my intention to fully satisfy his appetite.

  This was going to be an experience of a lifetime—and one that would most definitely involve studded leather! Santa Fe would be our time and the place.

  Chapter 14

  Dangerous

  The flight to Albuquerque took only an hour, but it seemed I was in the air for a year. There was no way to describe my anticipation. During the week, I had gone over every detail in my head to make sure I had everything packed. I couldn’t concentrate on anything else but the thought of being with him. Everything had to be perfect.

  He was the big catch. I had to bring my A-game. Everything I had experienced in my life, the good and the bad, all had led to this intersection—and to him.

  At the airport, his driver had no difficulty recognizing me as I exited the terminal. He must have been given a pretty thorough description. En route, he explained to me that his boss would not be home when we arrived. He had a late meeting at one of his horse ranches outside of the Sandia Park area.

  We drove through Santa Fe and up the mountain into a remote residential area. The road to his house was winding and steep. The driver approached the paved portico and came to a stop.

  I had thought the house on his Texas ranch was fabulous, well—it
paled in comparison to this place.

  His mountain home was designed in a manner that better suited him, as opposed to the ranch house. It was a typical Santa Fe mission adobe style, but very contemporary. In similar fashion to the ranch house, the house had been made ready for my arrival. The fireplaces and candles were lit and the home smelled fresh and lovely.

  We walked into the entryway. I looked up the sand colored painted walls to the high, traditional vigas styled, tongue-and-groove pinewood ceilings with decorative beams. The entryway opened on one side into a sitting area with a glass mosaic tiled fireplace. According to the driver, the space behind the fireplace led to a private theater, in the event I wished to indulge in a movie or watch television.