Curious Wine (14 page)

“That was the only time?”

“Yes. I was so relieved when I fell in love with Mark, that I wanted him. And there’ve been men since him, of course, lots of them—God knows how many.”

“Lane, your experience seems just part of adolescence. Didn’t loving Mark prove that?”

“Seventeen is a little old for that kind of experience. You sound like some of my own rationalizations,” she said with a little smile. “There wasn’t a rationalization I didn’t think of to explain my feeling for Carol. But I couldn’t do anything about a woman whose face I can never see—she’s come to me again and again in my dreams, for years.”

“I think that’s not an uncommon fantasy for women.”

“Another of my rationalizations. I’ve never dared have a friendship like you have with Vivian. Just casual, superficial relationships with women like Madge. I would never take a chance after Carol that feeling or friendship with another woman might develop into physical attraction. From the beginning I felt very drawn to you. I didn’t go gambling when you asked me because you were already too attractive to me.”

“You still let me happen to you.”

Lane said simply, “I seem to have no defense for you.”

Diana said slowly, “I was the first for you.”

“Yes. And more wonderful than any dream could ever be.”

Diana was silent, remembering her, in context with this new knowledge. She said finally, “Lane, why didn’t you tell me before? Last night? This morning?”

“I had no right to do anything. I’ve had the same fear of this as you, I’ve run from it for years. You had to make your own decision about it. It looked like it would turn out to be poetic justice, too. You running from me like I ran from Carol.”

“What happened to her?”

“She lives in San Francisco. With another woman, I understand.”

“How very lonely you’ve been.”

“I work very hard. There’ve been men.” She paused. “It wasn’t so bad when Father was alive. We were so close. He got me through Mark’s death. I almost didn’t get through his. For a long terrible time I didn’t want to live. My work saved me more than anything else.”

“I wish I could have known you then.”

“I don’t know if I could have allowed it, Diana. If this could have happened without circumstances like these.”

She continued thoughtfully, “I thought you’d been with women before, the first night. It seemed to me you made the first move, wanted us to kiss. You were so hurt by the encounter games all I tried to do was hold you, try to make everything all right—”

“Yes… and you were so gentle, it seemed right to kiss you. And then all that day I wondered what you must think. And then last night when you came to me like you did, I thought you were the one with experience.”

“What a strange time it’s been for us. After our first night I was too stunned to do anything but try and sort out my own feelings. Then I realized you were upset, probably very worried. I tried to tell you when we had the drink together. After that, I didn’t have a chance again.”

“I thought you were telling me you didn’t think anything of it, that it wasn’t important at all to you.”

“Oh. That explains it. I waited for you in front of the window, I thought we’d talk then. And you just went to bed. I couldn’t figure you out at all.” She smiled. “I decided I just didn’t get my message across earlier and so I came to you.”

“I was totally surprised. It was the last thing I expected.”

“I should have realized. But I didn’t understand until…” Lane continued very softly, “There was nothing I could say or do. What a terrible, ghastly feeling. All I could do was hope you wouldn’t go back to Los Angeles, and that would be the end. Did you find my card?”

“Yes. I was very glad to find it when I did.”

“I should never have done that. But I just had to.”

“I was afraid all the way driving back you’d decided you could have a lot less trouble with any of those willng women in San Francisco.”

Lane smiled. “I’ve had a terrible time over you. A menace on skis. Falling down, almost running into trees. All I could think about was you, how it feels to hold you and kiss you. You… you’ve never felt an attraction to a woman before?”

“I…” She did not know how to describe her emotion for Barbara, and she said, “A physical relationship… just never occurred to me.” She looked at Lane and said with simple honesty, “I can’t look at you without wanting you.”

Lane moved to her. “And I want you. So very much.”

Lane’s mouth left hers to come to her body, and moved very slowly down her. She kissed lingeringly inside her thighs, fingers stroking intimately, gently. Trembling everywhere, Diana finally moaned. Then a much more exquisite stroking began.

Afterward, Lane lay with her head on Diana’s stomach, holding Diana’s hands tightly. “Sweet,” she whispered. “Dear God, you taste so sweet.”

Diana lay breathing rapidly, orgasm had been so strong she was still stunned by the power of it. Lane’s breasts were between her legs and Lane pressed them into her, and then rubbed each taut nipple in her wetness, sighing, murmuring in her own pleasure as she flooded Diana again with sensation. When Diana’s legs trembled, Lane’s mouth came to her again, slow, more knowledgeable. Orgasm was yet stronger, her body utterly rigid and transfused with radiance.

Lane came to her and laid her body on her, fitting it to her, moaning when Diana wrapped her arms, her legs around her. Lane moved on her in a sensuous, prolonged caress, eyes closed. Diana’s senses were engulfed, overwhelmed. Lane held Diana’s face tightly in her hands and said in a ragged voice, her face hard, austere with desire, “I’m going to do this to you,” and kissed her mouth with thrusts and strokes of her tongue, holding the turbulence of Diana’s body under her with surprising strength. She brought her mouth to Diana’s legs, and Diana’s hips writhed and thrust uncontrollably, cries torn from her throat, until she was transfixed with orgasm, her body molten, feeling that even her bones were melting.

She lay in Lane’s arms trembling and tearful. “I’m not crying,” she said unsteadily.

“I know.” Lane was kissing tears away as they formed at the corners of her eyes.

“It’s more… each time.”

“Yes. I know.”

“I’m going to die from you.”

“No you’re not,” Lane said seriously, matter-of-factly. She asked, “Do you want to sleep for a while?”

Diana moved her hands over her shoulders, then down the planes of her back to clasp the rich flesh of her hips. “No,” she said. She turned to put Lane under her. “God no,” she said, her mouth coming to Lane’s breasts.

Outside the cabin, the wind howled and blew, shaking the window with fierce gusts. The electric heater in their room whirred and ticked with heat.

Their bed became a chaos. The blanket fell onto the floor, pillows were everywhere, some on the floor; and Lane in orgasm pulled the sheets from their mooring. Diana’s pleasure in Lane’s body remained an unchanging intensity, and intermittently, there was her own luminous, consuming ecstasy.

Chapter 11

Entwined, kissing, they heard women’s voices faintly from below. Diana turned her face away. “You can’t leave today.” She extricated herself from Lane, sat up. “You just can’t.”

“No, I can’t. I’ll call from town.”

Exultant, Diana asked, not really caring, “Is it a big problem?”

“I need to figure out how to take care of a few things. But the real problem is them.” Lane gestured below.

“Explaining why I’m staying another day.”

“To go gambling with me. I talked you into it.”

Lane nodded and sat up. “That might work. Madge’ll think it’s highly uncharacteristic, which it is. I’m very disciplined about my work. And Liz doesn’t miss a thing. It’s a good thing she had her back to me last night, couldn’t see us look at each other.”Diana got out of bed and searched for their pajamas. “What would they suspect? Neither one of us has much of a history of this.”

Lane smiled. “True. We were supposed to go skiing this morning and then I was supposed to leave this afternoon. If I leave tomorrow morning that’ll put me in San Francisco…” She trailed off, thinking.

Diana heard the words San Francisco with a feeling of desolation.

“I think it’ll look better if I ski for a couple of hours,” Lane mused. “Come back here and change and meet you in town.”

“I’ll wait for you here,” Diana said firmly.

“Skiing. I’ve got to go skiing. Oh cruel and unusual punishment. The last thing my body needs. Oh God.” She collapsed across the bed.

Diana laughed at the sight of her sprawled in despair amid the tumble of their bed. “I’ve never seen anyone look less like a lawyer.”

Lane pulled a sheet up over her, covering her face. Her voice through the sheet was muffled. “Dignity is so difficult when a person isn’t wearing any clothes.” She tossed the sheet aside and rubbed her eyes. “I need to think about what I’ve got scheduled tomorrow, how to take care of it. Why don’t you go down? I’ll straighten our room and get my thoughts together. God, look at this,” she said, sitting up and surveying the bed.

Diana said impishly, “We were… enthusiastic.”

Lane laughed. “Why don’t you come back here for a minute before you put any clothes on?”

Some minutes later, her arms released Diana. “Good morning,” she said, smiling into her eyes. “Do you feel as marvelous as I do?”

“Good morning,” whispered Diana, smiling. “Yes.”

She climbed down the ladder and waved to the group at the fire, and went into the bathroom. She splashed water on her face and stopped, suddenly weak from the scent of Lane on her fingers. She looked into the mirror and contemplated the radiance of her face, the utter fulfillment of her body. She wondered if she had given a similar gratification to Lane. Remembering that they had slept only a few hours the past three nights—Lane probably less—she decided that she would make Lane sleep that night, hold her soft, delicate body in her arms while she slept.

Smiling with the thought, she began to brush her hair. Startled, she leaned closer to the mirror and saw the pale blue of emerging bruises on her shoulders. It was crazy, she thought. Ravaged by an all-American Attila the Hun—and the gentlest person in the world leaves bruises.

She dressed and joined the group while Lane was in the bathroom. “I talked Lane into staying another day,” she said. “Is that okay with you, Liz?”

“You did what?” Madge said.

“Sure, fine,” Liz said. “She was the one who decided she had to get back early.”

“I don’t believe it,” Madge said. “We had tickets to a play she’d been waiting months to see and she canceled at the last minute, some problem at work again. That’s not the only time, either. She’s a fanatic about her work.”

“I used my powers of persuasion,” Diana said, smiling. “I made her break out of her script.”

The women laughed, but Madge said, “I know she’s got problems at her office, that’s why she was cutting this vacation short. What did you say to her?”

“Ask Lane,” Diana said in exasperation as Lane joined them. Lane was a lawyer—she could use her verbal skill to fend off this pest of a woman.

Madge said with pointed sarcasm, “Lane, how did Diana manage to break through that wall of dedication?”

Lane said with a brilliant smile, “She convinced me that a touch of unpredictability will be good for my professional image.”

“Can’t hurt,” Liz said indifferently.

Madge raised her eyebrows and sipped her coffee, contemplating Lane.

Chris said, “The other night Lane said you can make decisions about your life anytime, right up to the point of senility. Isn’t that right, Lane?”

“That’s right, Chris.”

Madge nodded, evidently satisfied. “It’s about time you showed a sign of being human.”

Lane said with a sparkling glance at Diana, “I’ve got my weaknesses.”

“Yeah? Name one,” Liz challenged, grinning.

“Your food, Liz.”

Liz beamed. “Let’s have breakfast.”

“I think it’s wonderful you’re staying,” Chris said. “This little vacation is doing you a world of good. You and Diana look just glowing this morning.”

Diana and Lane disposed of a huge quantity of eggs, ham, and pancakes. “It’s this great mountain air and your great food, Liz,” Diana murmured, looking at Lane. Lane’s eyes glinted in amusement.

“Can I expect you both back for dinner?” Liz asked.

“No,” Diana answered immediately, and then glanced at Lane.

Lane nodded, and smiled at Liz. “I plan to become a degenerate gambler.”

Diana watched Lane walk swiftly down the road to her car, breath forming clouds in the cold. She warmed the car, a small silver Mercedes, gunning the engine in the cold thin altitude for some time before driving off toward town.

The women left, except for Chris, who had decided at the last moment to take the day off from skiing. Disappointed, wanting to be alone to luxuriate in her thoughts, Diana sat beside the fire with a book in her hands, forcing sporadic conversation with Chris, drugged with the pleasure of memory, blissful in her waiting for Lane.

Lane returned soon after eleven o’clock, her skin color heightened, her pants patched with damp.

“How did you get so wet?” Chris asked, looking at her in concern.

“I wasn’t Margot Fonteyn out there,” Lane muttered, staring at her. “I’ll be down in a few minutes,” she added to Diana.

“I need to go upstairs too,” Diana said.

As they stepped into their room Lane said in a low, vehement tone, “Why does she have to be here? I came back as soon as I could. I can’t even hold you, I’m so wet and cold.”

Diana sighed. “It’s maybe just as well. Lane, would you wear that white silk blouse that ties at the throat?”

“Anything you want. As long as we’re making requests, would you change into that white V-neck sweater?”

Diana pulled off her gold sweater and took the white cashmere from the drawer. Feeling Lane’s eyes on her, she turned to her. Lane had stripped off her ski clothes and stood by the closet, her eyes fixed on Diana’s breasts.

Diana stared at her, eyes dropping to the wisp of white lace on her hips.

“My hands are warm now,” Lane said.