Full of Grace (13 page)

The driver brings the horses to a hoof-tapping halt in front of us.  Sher is mesmerized, staring at the flicking tails as the horses snort behind their blinders.

“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God,” she chants as the attendant opens the carriage door and offers his hand to her.  It’s like the snorting Percherons are rock stars and we’ve just gotten back stage passes.  The attendant carefully averts his eyes as Sher gets in.  She fans her face as she sits down.

“Are you alright, Miss?” the attendant asks.  He’s the consummate professional now.

“Yes, yes, I’m great!” The giggles explode out of her like hiccups.  “I’m so great!”

“Wonderful,” the attendant gives her a patient grin as I climb up onto the seat beside Sher.  “Are you both comfortable?”

“Completely!” Sher giggles.

“Perfect.  Will you be serving from the basket, this evening, sir?”

“Sure,” I say.

“Then if you would sir.”  The attendant hands me a huge picnic basket and I heft it up beside me.  He rattles off what we need to know like any guy who’s had to say the same spiel a hundred times before.  “There are blankets on the seat opposite to you, if you need them.  It’s a decent night, but there might be rain.  The carriage also goes along side the lake and sometimes there is a chill. Your dinner basket includes an assortment of cheeses and summer sausage, a loaf of French bread, a vegetable tray, fresh fruit, and pastry.  There is also sparkling, non-alcoholic wine, as you requested.  We ask that you keep your arms and hands inside the carriage and please deposit any and all trash in the trash container at your feet.  If you should need anything, please feel free to ask your driver.  This evening, Arthur, will be taking you on your journey.”

“Thank you, thank you so much!” Sher bubbles.  The attendant closes the tiny carriage door instead of looking at her.  Smart man.

“Definitely, ma’am.  Please enjoy the evening.”

“We will!  We totally will!” Sher squeals and the horses whiny. I catch the lotsa-luck glance the attendant throws Arthur, the driver.  Sher and her chainsaw giggle might just start a stampede.

Arthur slaps the reins lightly and we’re off with another squeal from Sher.

“This is so amazing!  Oh my God, I can’t believe you did this for me!”

I settle back on the seat, my stomach growling. “I’m glad you like it.” 

“I’m starving too,” she giggles.  “What’s in the basket?”

She reaches across me, brushing over my crotch, and the alarm in my jean-submarine instantly flashes: 
Semen! All hands on deck! 
All the other thoughts drain from my brain.

I’m staring into the basket and can’t put words to any of the food I see.  All my words have drained into descriptions and images of Sher, naked.  She pulls out a wheel of cheese and the return trip of her elbow across my zipper validates again just how hard she gets me with just an unintentional graze.

Sher’s oblivious.  She retrieves the long loaf of bread along with the cheese.

“Look at this thing!” she hoots.  It’s not nearly as long as I am right now.  If she puts that thing near her lips, I’m going to lose it.  I’ve got to get my head off this.

Head.

I look up and see the horse’s tail flicking, which makes me think of Sher’s skirt when she walks.  That doesn’t help at all. 

I take a deep breath and think of the one thing that never fails to settle me down.  Grandma. 

Grandma handing me a Christmas sweater.  Grandma gardening.  Deflation commences instantly.

“This cheese tastes like feet.  You’ve got to try it!” Sher giggles into my ear so Arthur doesn’t hear. 

“Well, now I can’t resist,” I tell her. I take a bite.  It does taste like feet.  She breaks the end off the bread and hands me a hunk.  I dig through the basket and pull out the summer sausage instead.

Sher gives a low moan of pleasure at the sight of the sausage.  I’m sure Arthur’s up on his bench chuckling.  Sausage.  Erect bread. Bastards.

I keep my control, thinking of the way Grandma’s lipstick bled into lines off her top lip.  But Sher’s giggle even tears me away from my most steadfast thoughts of Grandma.

“This was so nice of you to do for me,”  she says, the edges of her lips quirk, as if she’s going to cry.  But then her phone rings.  She picks it up and answers after a quick, steadying sniff.  She smiles.  “Hales!  You wouldn’t believe where I’m at right now, Haley Lane…I’m in a
horse-drawn carriage
…
eating dinner
…
with Landon.
”

Even sitting so close, over the clop of the horse hooves, I can just barely hear Hale say on the other end, “Really?”

“He knew I wanted to ride a horse and he knew I couldn’t, being pregnant, so he did
this.
”  Sher smiles at me.

“He’s a good guy, Sher,” Hale says and I hide my grin by turning away and reaching into the basket for the bottle of sparkling, fake wine and the plastic wine glasses. “Did you do what you were going to?  Did you talk to him?”

As I pour, Sher switches the phone to the ear furthest from me, casually bumping down the volume as she does it.  Hmm.

“I did,” she says into the phone.  My mind races.  What did she tell me that was so important?  “He knows everything.”

Everything?  She’s got to be talking about…I have no idea.  Sher takes the drink I hand her and tucks her head to the opposite side while she mumbles into the phone.

“I know, I know…I will…so, it’s going good with you and Ocker?...mmm hmm…still hot?...oh good, good…oh, that’s cool…wait, what?  Way to shoot low...”  Sher pauses for a giggle.  “He’s a good guy, Mrs. Maree.  I told you he was…okay, look, I’ve got to get back to my horse ride.  I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?...Yup, love you too.  Good luck with your boring life choices.”

She clicks the phone off and slides it into her pocket.  She chases the conversation with a long drink.

“So what’s new with Hale?”  I ask, instead of blurting,
what was all of that about?  What did you tell me that I don’t remember?

“Ocker was helping her to sign up for college classes.  She didn’t know what to take, so they were sitting around, trying to figure it out together.  She thinks she wants to be a guidance counselor.”

“That sounds good,” I say.

“Yeah.”  Sher takes a sip and flips her hair again, hiding her face from me as she looks out the opposite side of the carriage.  Something’s up.

“You don’t think she should be a counselor?”

Sher turns her head back, looking straight at the horse’s rear, as she holds her drink in front of her and taps her fingers on the round part of the glass.  A streetlight pops on and as we pass under it and I suddenly see that Sher’s eyes are glassy with tears.  When we pass out of the light, she answers in a tiny voice.

“I was just kind of hoping we’d do things together, you know?  We always said we were going to go to college together and we were going to get married and have kids at the same time.”

“Oh, I see,”  I say.  “But she ran off and got married before you.”

“And I ran off and got knocked up before her.”  Sher sighs. 

Arthur, who must not have been listening, or maybe just doesn’t give a crap about the sensitivity of the situation, twists on his seat slightly and says over one shoulder, “We’re coming up on the lake front.  It’s been a little chilly with the breeze, so feel free to use the blanket, if you should need it.”

I reach down and scoop up the blanket, because I think we need it already.  I fold it out over the two of us, pulling Sher close.  Her body is vibrating, holding in a sob.  I press her to my side and duck my face down to hers.

Instead of words, I cover her mouth with mine and leave two comforting kisses on her lips first.  Inhaling both her sweet skin and the first waft of the fresh lake air, I forget all about Grandma and lose myself in Sher’s taste instead.  I move my tongue through her mouth and pull at her bottom lip when she doesn’t respond enough.  Weaving my fingers into her hair while my thumb stays on her jaw, I draw her closer and groan my appreciation for everything she’s doing and everything she’s sad about giving up, between her lips. 

The tears that drop on my thumb dissolve and Sher responds, her body adjusting to mold more fluidly against me.  Twisted, I hover over the front of her, my fist on the seat beside her, blocking her view and blocking anyone’s view of her from the street.  I deepen our kiss, as if it can surround her and insulate her against the world.

Sher’s fingers move across my stomach and come to rest on my inner thigh.  Her thumb grazes me and it takes everything I have, not to pull up her tiny skirt and yank her on top of me. She returns my kiss, hungrier with each second.  She leans into me, pushing me back, until I am the one pressed against the high wall of the carriage.  Her leg slides over the top of mine and she adjusts the blanket so it covers us both, hiding the lower part of our bodies.  She sits on top of me, continuing our kiss, as I run my hands along her legs and get a tactile reminder of just how tiny her skirt is, since her skin seems to go on forever.  I finally reach her smooth back end.  My fingertips run across the smooth crease of her bottom and I throb up, hard, against my zipper.  Her tongue slides against the roof of my mouth.

Holy shit, this is not happening.

Not with the horses clomping and with Arthur coaxing them on by making cricket noises between his teeth and cheek.  My mind is blown as Sher grinds herself down on my lap.  Standing at full attention, her grooves are like Braille.  I tilt my hips up slightly, trying desperately to trace every word of her.

She throws her head back.  I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her back, before she thwacks Arthur in the butt.  She sinks against me again.  The touch surges me up, and Sher, feeling my hard-on thrust against her, lets out a tiny mew.

I shush her, to keep Arthur from hearing, but she giggles, which is even more incriminating.

I am face-to-chest with her breasts.  I can’t help myself.  I kiss the exposed wedge of her sternum, running my lips down as far as the cut of her shirt will let me.  The soft swells of her breasts cushion the edges of my chin and I breathe in the scent of her.  It’s a deeper, more intimate perfume than what she wears on the surface for public enjoyment.  Knowing I’m the only one who knows this secret scent shoots a tingle through me.

Sher runs her hand down my chest, over my belt.  She raises up off of me and I make a deep, guttural hum of disapproval at the same moment that she yanks down my zipper.

To hell with Grandma.

To hell with Arthur.

To hell with any passersby whose small children might point and question why the people in the carriage are climbing all over each other and about to make the back wheels bounce off the pavement.

Suddenly, the only thing that crosses my mind is how Sher’s tiny hand is wrapped around my rod, guiding my tip into the open bloom of her skirt.  I almost crack my skull against the back of the carriage as her body drips down and baptizes me with her desire.

She grips my forearms, lowering herself onto me.  My veins are straining to move, but I stay still.  The last thing we need is the carriage rocking along behind the horses.  Sher spreads her knees further apart, sinking me deep into her, all the way to my base. She winces with the length. I want to kiss her, to keep myself from moaning so loud that it would drown out passing cars, but she wraps her arms around my shoulders.  She lays her head down on my collarbone, her lips touching my neck and her hair tickling my cheek.

We don’t move.  The bounce of the carriage over the concrete is all there is, with an occasional dip into a pothole that makes us both bite our lips against the pleasure.  My length throbs within her soft, warm walls and I close my eyes.

The tips of her fingers lace into the hair at the base of my neck.  The intimate curve of her rear end in my palms sends me over the edge of control.  I pull her forward a half inch and swell up even more inside her. 

I don’t think she can hold back much longer.  She rocks her hips against me, propelled by a rough patch in the road, and I feel the throb, like a distant lighthouse beaming deep inside her.  I flex my hips, raising Sher up slightly in my lap, and the throb strengthens, until she can’t hold it back any longer.  Her excitement bursts, and she pulses all around me, her skin sucking me inside her even deeper.  My shaft flutters with the sensation and I can’t hold back either.  I catch up to her and although we don’t moan, our breathing goes like race horses, pressing hot against each other’s skin, and then silent, as we hold our breath with the final release.

She grinds her forehead into my shoulder and I cradle her against me.

All I know is that I want to feel the way she makes me feel…forever.

***

I tip Arthur a whole car payment.  Partly because he didn’t turn around, and partly because I’m so relaxed, the cash spills from my hand.

The carriage pulls into the far loop and we stumble out, Sher suddenly aware of her skirt and holding it down.  We get into my car and make it down the drive before she sighs from the passenger seat.  It doesn’t sound like a good sigh either.

“Something wrong?” I ask.

“What we just did.  Again.  It was a big mistake.  It’s just that you’re so…”  She looks out the window and drops her voice to a hoarse whisper. “I can’t keep doing this.”

Not this again.  We just had Earth moving sex.  Again.  But now she’s trying to scoot the planet right into a black hole trash can.  I can’t keep doing
this
with her either.

“Doing what?” I try not to shout it at her.

“It’s not right for me to keep having sex with you.”

“Why the hell not?  We’re having a kid together.  The damage is already done, if you missed it.”

Sher won’t look away from outside, so I yank the car off onto the shoulder and cut the engine.

“Look at me,” I say.  She swings her head toward me, but her eyes stay on her knees.  “Tell me what the hell is going on in with you, Sher!  Why do we have these amazing moments and then, you act like you just robbed a bank!  Why?  And while you’re at it, why don’t you tell me what you and Hale keep talking about.  What’s the big secret?  I’m done being patient and waiting for you to come to me first.  So, tell me everything, Sher.  Unload it all, I can take it.  Tell me what I don’t know.”