Lessons and Lovers (17 page)

Hettie woke late the next morning. The sun was already riding high when she turned over in her tangled sheets, shivering deliciously as her body reminded her of what’d happened in the middle of the night.

She’d got off amazingly lightly all things considered. Her nightshirt was in tatters but there were only a couple of small grazes on her bottom and some light scratches on her thighs and breasts. It was a miracle considering the raw power that Starr had expended in making love to her. How passionately he’d taken her—in both her sensual orifices.

The thought of him made her go hot and cold. Hot at the thought of the pleasure, the wildness, the almost transcendental quality of his lovemaking. Cold at the fact that he might well draw away from what they’d shared and become his old self again. That when he next appeared, he might be as remote and emotionally insulated as he always was.

Where are you now, you bastard?

Rolling over in her bed, she felt a great lift in her spirits when she realized where he had been not long ago.

There was cup of tea on her bedside table and when she reached gratefully for it, the brew was fresh and hot and steaming. Starr had stood at the side of this bed perhaps a minute before she’d woken.

What’d passed through his mind as he’d looked down on her? She knew now that he
did
have feelings for her. He had to feel something. He was far too honest to fake and last night he’d groaned and wept and fucked with a force and fury that’d taken her breath away.

For her own part, she was in turmoil. Even if Starr was able to compartmentalize what he felt, last night’s glories had touched Hettie more profoundly than she dare admit.

She had felt as if she’d opened not only her body but also her soul to him. She felt vulnerable and submissive in a way she’d never felt before. It was what they’d done, she supposed, sipping her perfect tea. The intensity and darkness of it. In an act more intimate than straightforward fucking, you had to trust more, allow more and reveal more. She’d put her faith in him and he’d cherished her in a way that was both fiery and delicate. Great swirls of emotion rushed through her, and in her secret heart, she hugged her love and cherished it.

Soon, Starr! Soon I’ll tell you!

The idea of finally revealing more than her physical self gave her an exhilarating rush of energy.

When she was showered and dressed in a black thong bikini and filmy cheesecloth overshirt, she considered what to do with the garment that’d been ruined last night.

The nightshirt was in shreds both back and front, yet Hettie couldn’t bear to throw it away even though it was far beyond any kind of repair. She held it to her face and smelt an intoxicating cocktail of odors. Her own perfume and the mingled sexual sweat of two bodies that had performed with passionate vigor. She could smell her own arousal and the sharp distinctive note of semen.

She could even see his essence. White streaks plain and telling on the thin black satin. Folding the shirt almost reverently, she slid it into her drawer, knowing she would never discard it and probably never wash it. Starr had revealed a lot of himself last night and she would always treasure this ragged black reminder.

But where was the man who’d shredded the shirt?

Shall I go to him? Seek him out? Test the bond we forged last night in the harsh light of day?

Closing her eyes for a moment, she sent out a silent mental query. She didn’t believe in ESP and telepathy and other mumbo jumbo, but even so she felt a connection between them shiver like an invisible silver cord. He was close by, with her yet not with her. For the moment it seemed unnecessary to compel his physical presence. That would come later. For the moment she felt an urge to seek out her friends—one old, one new—and see how they were faring.

Both Stevie and Darryl had beaten her to the terrace, but obviously not by much because they were both still lingering over coffee and the remnants of their breakfast. Plates bearing toast crusts and melon peel still lay on the floor beside their loungers.

Stevie sat up and smiled, her eyes hidden behind her dark sunglasses. “You’re late, sweetheart,” she observed with a faint but enigmatic emphasis, “Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine!” replied Hettie, realizing that she was. Much more than fine. Her body was a bit battered, but it still bore the resonance of some truly remarkable lovemaking. With a truly remarkable man.

“Good morning, Hettie.”

Darryl was on his feet before her, gorgeous as ever in his brief black swimming trunks and with an expression that could only be described as awe in his shining brown eyes. Before she could frame even the simplest answer, he’d reached out, taken her hand and drawn it to his lips in a salute that was as fervent as it was unexpected.

What’s going on?

Unnerved, Hettie allowed Darryl to get her a cup of coffee from the fresh pot that was perking there.

“Do you want something to eat, love?” inquired Stevie, slipping off her sunglasses and giving a Hettie a long, narrow-eyed look that managed to be both kind and assessing the same time.

“No. No, thanks. I’m not really hungry. I didn’t sleep well… I might have something later…” She was almost stammering as a sudden and totally outrageous thought occurred then coalesced into an absolute certainty.

They know! Somehow they know what happened here last night.

Without thinking she glanced towards the parapet, the stone altar where she’d spread her body in a willing sacrifice to Starr. When she looked back, Stevie was still regarding her steadily. And Darryl still looked as if her were prepared to fall down at her feet and worship her!

They saw it!
They must have! They must have heard all the yelling and come out here to investigate.

Hettie felt a blush start rising up her chest and throat. A roaring panic surged in her heart, then died again just as fast. For all its raunchiness and indecency, what had passed between her and Starr had been beautiful. An act of immense sensuality, and yet an act of love. A series of couplings to be proud of, to glory in and to thrill others with by letting them watch.

She looked first at Stevie then at Darryl and though it was just too much to tell them outright in words, she used her eyes to let them know that she didn’t mind.

Stevie smiled, and Darryl
still
looked awestruck. Gazing back at them, Hettie felt a new surge run through her but not of panic this time. It was an odd sensation, an amalgam of affection and a strange erotic kinship. This beautiful woman and the equally beautiful man beside her were her comrades in sex somehow, and she felt a sudden sharp surge of fondness for them. Starr was still with her, a silent but permanent resident in her heart and her imagination, but her thoughts and memories of him didn’t make either Darryl or Stevie one bit less appealing.

“So what have you two been doing?” she inquired carefully, taking a sip of her coffee then sinking down onto a lounger in the shady part of the terrace.

“Drinking Buck’s Fizz. Waiting for you. Discussing life…and sex,” Stevie replied with a frank grin, sliding off her voluminous overshirt as she spoke and revealing that all she had on underneath was a pair of tiny high-cut denim shorts. They were bleached almost white and so frayed at the legs that when Stevie flipped elegantly over onto her stomach, her pale, sleek buttocks were almost completely exposed.

“Is that a fact?” Hettie said softly. She nearly asked what Darryl thought of Stevie’s choice of conversation, but it was quite obvious. His skimpy trunks hid as little as Stevie’s ragamuffin shorts did, and Hettie could see the clear evidence of an erection rising beneath them.

He grinned at her, and she felt sex swirl lazily through her loins as the hot as the morning sun beat down on the canopy above them. She felt horny, but completely passive.

Maybe it’s
my
turn to be the watcher now?

The thought amused her. After all, she’d provided the floorshow last night, out here on this very patio with Starr. Let the good doctor and her pupil provide the entertainment this time. And then later, someone else would reap the benefits—when she found him…

“Let’s have some of that Buck’s Fizz.” She glanced across at the smiling, half-naked Stevie, “If the good doctor hasn’t drunk it all.”

“Don’t worry I can easily mix some more,” said Stevie, uncoiling herself from her resting place and making for the table.

Stevie’s hand with the champagne was more than generous.

“There’s more fizz than buck in this,” gasped Hettie, recklessly swallowing down another mouthful of the delicious concoction. With her stomach unlined, the Champagne had an immediate and potent effect, and she could almost feel Stevie studying her intently across the lip of her own freshly filled glass.

Hettie began to feel drowsy again, from the effect of her fine wine not so hidden within the orange juice and the tumultuous night with its shortfall of sleep. She took another small sip of the Buck’s Fizz and then settled down upon her lounger again. “It’s so hot already,” she murmured, “I don’t know about you two but I could do with a snooze.”

Stevie laughed but said nothing. Her impish wink was more eloquent than words.

Lying facedown, Hettie cradled her head on her folded arms, and let her eyelids drift downward and the perfumed warmth of the golden day embrace her. Beginning to float, she imagined Starr touching her lightly—not in ferocious passion as last night, but gently, tenderly, reverently and with the love she knew he bore her. The love that was a mirror of her own. He might not have said anything just yet. And he might not say anything for a while. But Hettie knew that eventually he’d declare himself.

In her pleasant haze, she focused in on snippets of conversation drifting from across the patio. Stevie and Darryl were whispering, laughing, murmuring naughty secrets and totally intent on each other. They were having a marvelous time—a blast—flirting outrageously and making little threats and promises.

You’ve come a long way in such a few days, Signor di Angeli.

Hettie smiled indulgently at Darryl as a potent silence settled over the patio.

After a little while, she opened her eyes a smidgen and sneaked a look at the mischievous pair.

And almost gasped out loud…

Darryl and Stevie were entwined on one of the mattresses spread out on the warm stone. They were kissing passionately now, their mouths dueling and their hands all over each other’s bodies.

As she regarded them from beneath her lashes, she saw Stevie wriggle sinuously against Darryl while she pulled off her shorts and then tossed them away. A second later, she’d drawn his hand between her thighs and adjusted her hips to position his fingers in exactly the right position to give her pleasure.

“That’s right, sweetheart,” she crooned, as Darryl began to kiss her throat while he fingered her, “Rub me just there… Ooh, that’s wonderful! That’s so good!”

It was an intoxicating sight. The slender man, all tanned and lean with his cock barely contained in an abbreviated swimsuit, and the shapely doctor completely naked, with breasts, thighs, belly and pussy all on show. Stevie’s hips jerked rhythmically and she was grunting now. The sounds were raw and primal as they drifted towards Hettie, who lay entranced by the sight of the embracing couple. She felt a tiny pang of envy.

How delicious it would be to be caressed like that, and for a moment she imagined that it was herself and Starr she was viewing, and her own impassioned voice crying out. Starr’s golden body was inclined over her and her paler thighs were parted to admit his questing hand.

And then, gorgeous as it was, the vision faded. And reality, just as erotic, held her gaze.

As the couple writhed, Stevie whispered something into Darryl’s ear that made his dark eyebrows shoot up. “Really?” Hettie heard him say, then saw Stevie nod and smile at him, her mouth curved and sultry. A second later they were rearranging their bodies.

First, the good doctor had knelt over the excited Darryl, and performed the most intense, thorough and delicately detailed act of fellatio that Hettie could ever have imagined.

It was like watching a supreme artist at work and Hettie found herself noting certain tricks, then imagining how she herself could perform them for Starr. Wondering if she could extract the same groans and shouts of agonized fulfillment from him that Stevie was inducing in Darryl. And afterward, when Darryl returned the compliment for the doctor, Hettie could only remember Starr’s mouth on her cunt and his tongue lashing her beleaguered clitoris with far more craft and assurance than Darryl would probably be capable of for a long, long time…

Oh Starr, where are you?
The sudden need to be near him rose up again. Like a pain that only he could soothe.

Discreetly, she rose and excused herself even though her two companions were now completely absorbed in one another. Their entwined bodies were a beautiful sight, one that any other occasion she would have lingered over to savor, but she longed for beauty of an entirely different kind. Cool, perfect, and as hard and brilliantly faceted as a jewel…

Back in her room, she bathed quickly, not wanting to delay in her passionate wish to see Starr again. But just as she’d finished applying moisturizer to her skin in readiness for dressing, there was a soft knock at the door and she knew without the tiniest scrap of doubt that her sudden yearning had been granted.

Starr!

Tall, straight and golden, he walked in at her “Come in!” then closed the door behind him and moved slowly towards the bed. He was clad in black as usual—a tight cotton T-shirt and thigh-hugging jeans—and his blue eyes were as steady as ever.

And yet somewhere far back in his gaze, there was a shadow that told her he was troubled. At one time, she wouldn’t have been able to see it, but now she seemed attuned to the very subtlest nuance of his expressions. Either she knew him much better now or perhaps he was finally letting his barriers down at last? Maybe his tears of last night had been a catalyst somehow?