Collide & Burn (8 page)

~ Seven ~

I WAS HEADED FOR a big old dark hole, and I would never be able to climb out. I knew it and just kept moving toward it. I knew it would suck me up—that is what black holes do, after all—and still I kept going in that direction. I was on a collision course, and its name was Wade Devon.

He was everything I thought a man should be.

He was my knight in shining armor. No, he was the shining armor, so bright and glittery that I felt blinded in his light. I wanted him more than I had ever wanted anything or anyone in my life, and that want was all-consuming.

And then he arranged a meeting with Mr. Bernard Sother of Sother’s Gallery—the most prestigious art gallery in New York City.

Jumping for joy, tummy in knots, I stood back and prayed as Mr. Sother studied my portfolio. He turned, and I saw a slow smile stretch his thin lips as he said, “Wade, my darling, Wade, you have discovered genius.”

Like what
?
Genius?
The wonder was that I didn’t faint when he turned and began speaking to me as though I was a rare and valued artist.

We talked and laughed and conferred, and all the while I looked to Wade, who gave me encouraging smiles and soft, warm looks.

He announced that we were going to do a Christmas showing in early December. He called his secretary to take notes, and he began issuing orders for the preparation of our show.

He turned to me and said, “You will be our guest of honor, and it will be black tie.” He turned to Wade. “You will arrange for some publicity, yes?”

“Yes,” Wade said.

“What sort of publicity?” I asked.

“Ah,” said Mr. Bernard, as he’d asked me to call him. I’d nearly giggled in his face when he said to call him that. “I will send out invitations to only the most select people, but in order to, shall we say, tickle their interest in a new artist … sometimes a bit of shall we call, mystery, scandal, intrigue is called for.”

“But I—”

“Are dating the most sought-after bachelor in all of the United States, and up until now, you have kept it a secret. I wish a hint to leak out—”

“Oh, no. We aren’t—”

“It’s too late,” Wade said, interrupting. “He obviously knows that we’re dating.”

I kept quiet. I couldn’t believe Wade was willing to play this game just to help my career. It was humbling, knowing how private he liked to be.

Well, I was on a high I couldn’t come down from, so when Wade took me to the Metropolitan Museum of Art and then took me behind the scenes on a VIP tour of all the new works that had arrived but were not yet on display, I was ready to bow down and kiss the shoes he was wearing.

We went to lunch then, and apparently it was a favorite haunt of his, as everyone seemed to know him. He said, “And now it begins.”

“What begins?”

Someone snapped a photo of the two of us, and I realized. I said, “Oh no … Wade, I am so sorry …”

“It’s why I brought you here. This is a first for me.” He pyramided his hands under his chin and stared hard at me. “You have to understand, Charlie. I have never brought a woman to this little restaurant. It’s a private place for me. I find myself wanting things I have never wanted before, but more than that, I like to make you smile the way you smiled today.”

“Did you know they’d take a picture of us? Are you upset?” I asked, watching his face and feeling my brain explode with hope when he grinned.

“I knew. I was sure, in fact. It is most unusual for me to be seen dining with a woman, and now the rumor mill will discover that the woman who has captured Wade Devon’s interest is also the new star in the art world. It’s what Bernard hoped for.”

My heart took a nosedive.

He had done this to procure me some publicity.
Charlie, he told you early on to never read anything into the things he might do with you. He warned you.

“I see,” I said, trying not to sound despondent.

He reached over and took my hand. “Charlie …”

“I know. Don’t read into anything,” I answered, trying to keep the sharp disappointment out of my voice.

His eyes narrowed, but he said nothing to contradict this, and so we ordered. Because I was determined to be grateful for all his help, we began conversing lightly and brightly.

We drank wine, we played with appetizers and drank more wine, lingered over our meal, had after-dinner drinks that went immediately to my head and set me to giggling, and then we shared a dessert that truly was death by chocolate, accompanied by more drinks.

I was high. I am a one-drink-a-night girl, maybe two, so I was now flying in a starry sky, and it was still afternoon.

He said, “You hold your drinks well.”

I hiccupped.

He laughed and said, “Okay, baby, cutting you off.”

I grinned and hoped I would be able to stand and walk a straight line.

He motioned for the check, signed for it, and left a couple of hundred for the staff on the table. He took my arm and held me against himself, kissed my lips lightly, and said, “I got you, baby.”

Somehow, and without my tripping, we got into the limo.

Wade directed the driver, Nugent, to his condo, which turned out to be a huge loft decorated in the contemporary style. All clean lines and black and white with touches of yellow. I didn’t like the total look and wrinkled my nose.

He laughed right out loud. “I never have to second-guess you, sweetheart. Everything you think shows on your beautiful face. This, I know, is not your style.”

I hiccupped.

He kissed my cheek, my forehead, my chin, and then my mouth.

A moment after that, he had my jacket off and pulled my white angora sweater over my head. I hadn’t bothered to wear a bra, and he made a guttural and sexy sound as he filled his hands with my breasts.

“Do you know what I am going to do to you now?” His voice was low and husky.

“Uh-huh.” I nodded.

“Tell me,” he demanded. “Tell me what I’m going to do to you now.”

“You are going to fuck me,” I answered and giggled.

He smiled sweetly and sighed. “No, baby, no. I don’t know what you have done to me, because now I am going to make love to you. I am going to cherish and then devour every inch of you, and when you start begging for it, oh yeah, baby, then I’m going to fuck you!”

* * *

His kisses made a burning path over my breasts and down to my belly. He nipped at my flesh with his teeth, he licked and kissed and then whispered, “Your body is so perfect. You were made for me, Charlie … just for me.”

I groaned and arched, wanting more, right then, wanting him to drive himself into me, but he wasn’t done making sweet love to me. As he traced a path of sweet kisses, he murmured words of praise, and I swear I heard him say, “Charlie, you have changed my life.”

Had he said that? Was I too bombed? Had I heard him correctly?

He traced his dick over my belly, and I felt it drip and told him. He grinned and put my fingers around his erection as he lifted me up and into position. His voice was hungry as he said, “Want to taste, baby?”

I did. I wanted to taste him.

I nodded my head vigorously, and the next thing I knew we were in that famous 69 position. That, too, like so many things he had introduced to me, was a first for me.

His lips, teeth, and tongue worked at my wet cleft, and I had his huge cock in my mouth.

We made love to each other. This was so much more than sex. This was cherishing one another, wanting to please the other more than wanting to please yourself. This was … oh no, I couldn’t allow myself to believe that he might love me.

It was not as easy as it sounded to maintain that position for any length of time, and after a few awkward moments of trying and not completely succeeding to manage his erection while staying in place for him as well, I put my head back and started to giggle.

His laughter joined mine, and he scooped me up and into his arms as we both dissolved into rollicking mirth.

He began kissing my face, my nose, my lips, and then suddenly passion took us up and away. He worked my body until I called out, “Oh … oh … Wade … yes.” My body rocked with the thoroughness of my climax, and I shuddered in his arms, trembling with pleasure.

He whispered my name and said, “That, Charlie, was making love.”

“Hmmm,” I thought it appropriate to answer.

“Charlie … you make me crazy.” He sounded desperate.

I didn’t answer. I wasn’t sure what he wanted, how I should respond.

“Charlie, you do something to me … something that takes over my brain …”

I still didn’t answer. This was scary territory. Was he saying good-bye? Was today all about good-bye? I wasn’t ready to lose him yet. Would I ever be ready for that day?

He sighed and rolled me onto my back. He had been kissing and holding and making love to me for at least thirty minutes.

Now, when he spoke, he sounded feral. “I’m going to fuck you now, Charlie … hard, so that you call out my name over and over and never forget that
I am the one
that makes you feel this way.”

He got himself into position, raised my knees up and wider apart than I thought they could go, and, damn, if he didn’t ram into me.
Damn, hot damn
, if I didn’t buck against him for more.

He filled me, and his movements were made to take me to the limit, and they did. It was so easy. I reached that pinnacle and cried out in primal grunts as I found release and my body shattered all around him.

He poured his seed into me, and I realized—he had forgotten to use a condom.

He obviously also realized it, for when he collapsed next to me and took me in his arms he said, “That was a first. I have
never forgotten
protection before.”

I calculated in my head. I was pretty sure I was in the ‘safe from pregnancy zone’ time of the month.

I said nothing.

He kissed my lips. “I don’t know what I am going to do with you, baby. I just don’t know.”

Apparently, not knowing what to do with me meant making love to me, as we did that a good part of the remaining afternoon and into the evening, until I was sure I would never walk again.

~ Eight ~

FOUR DAYS HAD gone by since our tryst in the city, and I hadn’t heard a word from Mr. Wade Devon. Not a word. Plus, he hadn’t been at the farm. It was as though he’d vanished from the world—my world—and I was beginning to fall apart.

Jeff called twice to apologize. I didn’t take his calls. I wasn’t ready.

Also, something was giving me the creeps. I felt like someone was watching me. On one occasion, I looked up and saw Gloria in the barn, talking to Scott. She was fresh to him before she turned and walked away.

I approached Scott and told him not to concern himself. He nodded and lowered his head, as was his way. I was so angry at her for that. Scott’s brain might be damaged a bit, but he still flinched under cruel words.

So my days after our little time in the city were filled with insecurities of different sorts. I made up my mind that it had been all about good-bye. It was as I feared: it was over. And then, hope would wheedle its way into my heart, making it all so hard to accept.

I was in a fog. My head hurt. My heart hurt. My body ached.

Hope still carried me forward while I waited to hear from him, but on the fourth day hope began to wither and die.

I told myself not to jump for the phone when it rang. I told myself not to look down the driveway or, when I was with my horse, to glance at his house.

But the problem was that I have always been a Pollyanna. I guess I always will be; it is in my nature. Still, I should have expected this. He had warned me. He had said not to read anything into what we were when we were together. He had said he didn’t stay. I had been warned.

Our Saturday that overlapped into Sunday had been our last time together. I had to get that through my stupid head. It had been his way of gently saying good-bye. And yet, it hadn’t felt like good-bye. Quite the opposite.

It was already Friday, and as was my habit, I went out early and got in a ride on Sassy before I returned to my easel and got to work.

I couldn’t concentrate, though, so I went outside and helped out a bit with the barn, as one of the girls had called in sick and they were short a man. I chipped in and mucked out quite a few stalls. That was good for me.

I did glance more than was good for my head down the drive, but there was no sign of Mr. Devon.

I spent the rest of the afternoon, like the four days before, painting, and my mood was not good. My art usually reflects my moods, and my art today was dark and cried.

And then, when I decided it was over and he wasn’t going to call, ever again, I picked up the phone and asked if Dee was free to have dinner and drinks with me.

She said sure. She knew what I was going through because I had told her.

I stepped outside from my apartment and, lo and behold, there he was … in my astonished face. Wade Devon, as big as life … no, bigger, and all I wanted to do was to haul off and slap him.

He came towards me.

I walked backwards away from him until my back was against my apartment door.

I said, “Oh, hello. I’m on my way out.”

“Are you? Where to, baby?”

Just like that. I couldn’t believe it.
Where to, baby
?
Imagine the tone of my voice when I answered, “Kinda my business, and don’t ‘baby’ me.” Was that snippy? I hadn’t meant to sound snippy.

“Nothing ever again will be just
your
business,” he said softly.

“Kinda wrong about that,” I answered, now
very much into snippy
. “What
do you
want? A quick roll in the hay?
Sorry
, no can do, I have plans.” I started to walk past him.

He reached for my arm. I glared at him. He said, “Don’t be like this, Charlie.”

“
Like what
? You said no relationship. I was in agreement. I don’t expect anything from you, and you shouldn’t expect me to be on hand whenever you like—though I’m certain that jars your sense of control. I never said I would be around whenever you wanted.” Again, I started off.

He stepped in front of me and blocked my path. “Charlie. Don’t you want to know why I haven’t been around?”

“
No
.
Your business,” I said, but actually if he was offering an explanation, I decided I would hear him out.

“Charlie … I’ve been going crazy without you. I thought I could do it …
but I can’t
 … I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but you are in here.” He touched his head. “All the time.”

“What do you want from me?” I asked.

“I want
you, all of you
 …” he whispered.

“Not happening—
not now
. I am promised elsewhere. I don’t break my promises,” I told him and made it to my jeep.

He rushed ahead of me and opened the door for me. “Charlie,
I was with my mom
. She had a relapse and was taken to the hospital. I … I should have called you, I know, but I thought … if I stayed away … I could break the hold you have over me.”

That floored me
.

Break the hold
?
I looked into his blue eyes and stayed strong. “Wade, I am so sorry to hear about your mom. Is she okay?”

“Yes. My mom is a recovering alcoholic. Now and then … she has a misstep, but she really is doing well, and I like to be there for her when she needs me.”

My heart went out to him. But this wasn’t about his mother. This was about keeping myself whole. This was about my aching heart. “I’m glad you were able to be there for her. Now, I really have to go.”

He stood aside from the jeep, and I saw him in my rearview mirror watching me take the long driveway out of the farm.

I sighed because every inch of me wanted to be with him.

Games
. Why do lovers play games?

It seemed to come with the territory. I’d never been a game player before. When had I become one? Was that what I was doing? Playing a game?
Hell, yeah
, sorta.

I really wouldn’t bail on my friends, and I was the one who had asked Dee to meet me.

But I could have been more understanding. He didn’t owe me an explanation. He had been honest from the start. He told me ‘no relationship’.

I felt like a creep, leaving him after he had told me about his mom. That had been cold.

When had I gotten so cold? Yesterday—when I spent another sleepless night wondering if I would ever see or hear from him again. Something inside me broke then and wasn’t repaired yet.

And that was the bottom line—but I so did not like myself at that moment.

* * *

I laughed and played a part with my friends—Dee had asked two of our buds to join us—because I wasn’t really there. Dee knew and understood. I had told her everything earlier that day, and then that night I told her how he had showed up and how I had behaved.

She had said, “Good. What he did was all about him and
what he needed
. You have to look out for you, because he sure didn’t.”

She was right in a way and wrong in another.

Jeff showed up, and as he approached I went rigid. He said, “Please, Charlie … I’m sorry. I was drunk. Can we just forget it and start over?”

I nodded and gave him a small smile. “Sure.”

“Thanks. I’ll leave you to your girls’ night out.” He backed away.

I looked at Dee, and she arched a brow at me. I downed my beer.

And then I downed another.

I got tipsy and danced with a good-looking guy. When I got back to our table, Dee said, “You know, this is all about him. So I think it is time for my Charlie to go home.” She wouldn’t take an argument from me, and as I saw Tony, her cute guy, walk in and towards her, I decided that was what I needed to do. Go home. Dee put me in a cab.

When I paid the cabby and got out of the car, I saw a shadow sitting on the steps to my door. As I got closer my eyes confirmed my suspicion—
Wade.

“What are you doing here?” I asked him.

“Waiting for you,” he said. “Charlie … don’t turn me away. I know you should. I know I don’t deserve you … I know I—”

I rushed him and kissed him with everything I had.

He held me tightly wrapped up in his arms until I vanished in his embrace. The kiss moved into more and still more.

He allowed me air and murmured against my mouth, “Come on, baby … let’s go upstairs.”

To say that we crashed through my apartment as we threw off our clothes is an understatement. I know I knocked over a small side table; he knocked over a chair that was in his way.

We reached the bed, and he grinned wickedly at me as he gently sat me on the edge of it and kneeled between my knees.

His hands were on my thighs, parting them as I fell backwards, and he began making a path through my wet sex and finding my spot. He knew how to work me into a frenzy and did just that. What was I going to do?
I had fallen in love with Wade Devon
,
and he … I wasn’t sure what he felt at all.

His hand pumped hard against my cleft, and I exploded with a cry and a series of moans, or were they grunts? Not sure. My body jerked with the release, and he groaned out my name. “Charlie … yeah, oh Charlie, that’s what I want … to hear you go off like that. You beauty, you.”

He had my butt even as I still went through a series of pleasurable shudders, and he lifted me all the way onto the bed and said, “Again, baby, going to give that to you again and again, but this time …” His voice held so much affection that I stared into his eyes for a moment in wonder.

“I want you so badly …” he whispered, and I caught the wild abandon on his face as he rolled me over onto my belly and in one fluid movement had me up and on my hands and knees on the bed.

He bent over my back, and I felt his erection against my ass as he first fondled my breasts and then flicked my nipples. His touch made my body jerk involuntarily. I pushed back against him, and he laughed. “Hungry for this?” he said and rubbed his dick just at my opening.

He took a moment to sheath himself in a condom and then removed his two fingers that were deep inside me and replaced them with his cock.

Oh but he slammed into me, filled me, touched every sensitive sexual nerve in my body, and then, just as I was about to go off, he withdrew himself and said, “Oh no, not yet, baby, not yet.”

He turned me over, removed the condom, and put his cock to my lips. I took it deep into my mouth and sucked hard, slid my mouth over him in a dance that had him calling my name, and when he went off, I did what I have never done before—I swallowed.

His entire body jerked with pleasure, and I smiled up at him.

He touched my face and said, “Charlie …
what are you doing to me
, Charlie? I have never been so completely attached to anyone ever in my life. People in my life … leave. I understand the leaving. It’s this … you and me … that has me going nuts.”

He collapsed next to me, took me into his arms, and pulled me on top of him. His voice was feral as he said, “I can’t get enough of you. So lick me, baby, lick my cock back into shape and then climb on for a rodeo ride.”

I laughed. “Don’t you need some rest?”

“
Apparently not
 … do it, baby … lick it …
taste us
 …”

I did what he asked, and holy good gosh, his cock stood at attention and I did just what he wanted—I climbed on, and
he gave me a rodeo
!