Love in the Air (19 page)

Amidst the glowing moonlight bathing their naked entwined bodies, Sullivan and Kay ascended to a height of rapture both had long since forgotten could exist here on earth.

But they were no longer on the earth.

They were one, joined in body and spirit, soaring high among the puffy white clouds of a nirvana of their own creation, finally exploding together with a magnitude of unearthly fulfillment, shooting heavenly sparks of light and love all around them. At the very pinnacle of pleasure, Kay’s eyes widened with wonder, then slowly, languidly closed. They fluttered nervously open once again until she heard her gallant lover saying, “My darling, close your eyes if you wish. I love you, Kay, I love you.”

Kay smiled lazily, let her eyes close and sighed with peace when she felt Sullivan’s smooth lips tenderly kissing her closed eyelids. She lay completely limp and satiated while his mouth moved worshipfully over her face, her hair, her throat, and he remained still buried inside her; she was reluctant ever to have his flesh parted from hers. His lips brushing a now-soft rosy nipple, Sullivan sighed and moved to her side, drawing her to him.

“In all of my dreams,” he whispered honestly against her damp temple, “in all the times I’ve lain in my bed and envisioned you in my arms again, never could I have hoped it would be this sweet, this glorious, this complete.”

Kay smiled, lifted a tired hand up to his full mouth to trace his sculpted lips. “I know,” she said. “Sullivan, I want to tell you something.”

Sullivan kissed the fingers playing along his bottom lip. “What, sweet?”

“You know, darling, that first time. That night in the Brown Palace, I was a virgin, remember?”

Sullivan pressed her closer. “Sweetheart, do you think I could ever forget?”

“Well, what I wanted to say is…I…Sul, since that night…that was the only time. There’s never been…I haven’t—”

Sullivan raised up on an elbow. “My sweet Kay,” he said, awed, “that’s why it hurt you again. Oh, honey, I hurt you; I knew it was hurting you and it’s because—” The words choked off in his throat and he leaned to her, kissing her lips with exquisite gentleness. “Kay,” he said, stroking a soft, silvery lock of hair back from her cheek, “it was a wonderful gift you gave me all those years ago. It was the same wonderful gift you gave me tonight. You are a treasure and you make me so happy, Kay.” He chewed the inside of his jaw for a second and confessed, “Listen to me. I’ve been to bed with other women; had sex, but I swear to you, I’ve not made love since that night you left me.” He saw no look of censure in her lovely eyes and he smiled, recalling her so haughtily informing him there was a difference between sex and making love. “There’s a big difference, you know.” He smiled and held his breath.

Kay, remembering, grinned. “Yes, I know.”

Sullivan, relieved, lay back down and Kay, turning over onto her stomach, cradled a cheek in one hand; the other went to the thick, dark hair covering Sullivan’s chest. Her fingertips played there, enjoying the feel of crisp, crinkly hair and warm, hard muscle underneath.

“Sul, can we talk now?”

Sullivan yawned contentedly, folded his hands beneath his head. “Yes, now we can talk, Kay, Now we can.”

“Those first few months after I left I wrote to you all the time,” Kay reminded him.

“Yes, and your letters were full of all the exciting things going on at your L.A. station and of your success.” Sullivan pulled a pack of cigarettes from his discarded white shirt, lit one and lay back down.

“I know, but in every letter I always told you how much I missed you.”

“Darling, you may have missed me, but you didn’t come back to Denver on a visit for almost three months.”

“I couldn’t get away sooner. And what difference did it make? When I did come back, you were conveniently unavailable. Lord, I couldn’t believe it, they told me you’d gone on a fishing trip in the mountains. No one knew just where.”

Sullivan grinned sheepishly. “I was really holed up in my apartment.”

“Sul!”

“I’m sorry, baby.” He crushed out his cigarette, drew her into the circle of his long arms and let his fingers trace the high bones of her cheeks. “It was cowardly, I know, but I just couldn’t see you. I was hurt and unyielding.”

“I knew you’d disappeared because you didn’t want to see me.” Kay captured his hand, pulled it to her mouth and traced the lifeline with her tongue. “That’s why I quit writing after I returned to the coast. Then, Mom and Dad moved that summer to Florida and there was no longer a reason for me to come back to Denver when I knew you wouldn’t see me.” She released his hand and Sullivan moved it down to cup her bare shoulder.

“I came to L.A. once,” he admitted almost shyly.

“Sullivan?” Kay raised up on an elbow. “When? Did you try to see me, call me?”

“I did see you.”

“I don’t…you…”

Sullivan sighed. “Honey, I meant to call you and take you out to dinner. Then I lost my nerve, but they were having a big parade and I fought the children and their indignant parents for a front-row spot on the sidewalk of Sunset Boulevard, because I’d heard your radio station had a float in the parade.”

“That’s how you knew—” Kay’s blue eyes widened.

Sullivan nodded and smiled up at her. “There you were, showing off all your best assets to a panting crowd, while I stood, my blood boiling, hating you, loving you.” His smile faded. “God, I wanted to jerk you off that float, cover you with my shirt and drag you home.”

“Darling,” Kay said softly, “why didn’t you?”

“Kay, sweetheart, I’ve a feeling you would have kicked my shins and told me to mind my own damn business, and you’d have been right. You’re a grown woman, capable of making your own decisions without any help from me. I knew that from the time you left me; that’s what hurt so much. I wanted you to be my sweet, adoring little Kay. You wanted a lot more and I don’t blame you.”

“Sullivan, you’re so wise, you always were.” Kay toyed with a lock of hair falling over his forehead. “You let me go. You knew I was making a mistake and yet—”

“Hold on, Kay,” he interrupted. “I didn’t think it was a mistake. I still don’t. You’ve as much right to choose which road to travel as—”

“I chose the wrong one, darling. I’ve wasted years I could have been in your arms, so let’s waste no more.” Kay leaned down, gave his mouth a soft, sweet kiss and murmured against his lips, “Teach me, Sul. Show me how to be your lover.”

“I’d say you’re a natural, honey, but since you brought it up, I wonder if you’re still the adventurous kind.”

Kay, still leaning over him, slowly kissed his full upper lip, then the bottom one, gently chewing on it. Releasing it, she said boldly, “I love adventure, you know that.”

“Good. We’re in the islands and we should take advantage of it, do you agree?”

“Yes.” She didn’t hesitate to answer. “But then it appears to me we are taking advantage of it.” She dipped back to his mouth, to tease, to taste, to delight him.

“Hmm, yes, we are,” he mumbled under the onslaught of her sweet mouth so expertly teasing his. “But I thought tomorrow, since we have the entire day free, we could get up early, catch a plane to Eleuthera and…”

“Wait, Sul.” She lifted her head, pushing a heavy shock of hair behind an ear. “Eleuthera? Where is it? What is it?”

“Honey.” He brought a hand up to a soft full breast and watched in rapt appreciation when his touch caused the soft little center to blossom into a tempting hard bud. “Eleuthera is one of the out islands. It’s about seventy miles from here; it’s tiny, more private. We’d be by ourselves; no chance of running into any of our group.” His thumb began to lazily circle the pleasing little peak he’d helped to create.

“Oh, Sul, let’s,” Kay responded happily. “We can go over, spend all day and—”

“Hmm,” he breathed, “let’s make plans later.” He moved his arm around her and pulled her closer. “Tomorrow can wait.” His mouth took hers in an ardent kiss as he reversed their positions, turning her onto her back. Kay sighed and responded to him, arching her body up against him, loving the quickly heating lips moving on hers, the taste of the velvet tongue once more roaming her mouth. When finally the kiss ended and his lips slowly started moving down her body, Kay, rapidly releasing her hold on reality, let it go completely when Sullivan’s mouth closed over her right nipple, tenderly drawing it into the warm, wet cavern of his mouth while his hands slid caressingly down her silky legs.

“Yes…tomorrow,” she sighed and slid her hands into the rich dark hair of his head, pressing him closer to the full breast gleaming milky white beneath the face of the man bent to it.

Sullivan and Kay rose early the next morning. Kay, a pair of bright yellow slacks and a striped blouse covering a brief white bikini, sat close to Sullivan in the taxi that took them to the airport.

Sullivan, handsome and casual in a pair of snug-fitting white deck pants with a red and white pullover knit shirt stretching across his muscular chest, had a pleased smile playing at his full lips. A possessive arm around Kay’s shoulders, he reached for a cigarette. Kay took the matches, lighting it for him.

“Sullivan,” she said, holding the little flame up to the filtered cigarette, “whatever happened to that gold lighter I gave you?” She blew out the match and placed the packet back inside his breast pocket.

Sullivan laughed and pulled her closer. “I’m ashamed to tell you.”

“You lost it.”

“No, I broke it.” Sullivan paused, shook his head and admitted, “That first night you came back to town. You know, when I was to meet you and the Shultses for dinner.”

“Yes, you didn’t come. You didn’t want to see me.”

“I did. I wanted to see you so badly that I…Truth is I threw the damned lighter across the room and the lid broke off.”

Kay showed no shock. She put an arm around his waist, squeezed him and said, “Darling, I’d hoped you had learned to control that temper of yours. Looks like I was wrong.”

Sullivan kissed the sweet, glowing face looking up at him. “I’ll try to do better. I thought I’d just about whipped it, then you came back and, well, the lighter wasn’t the only thing that got thrown.”

“Doesn’t matter, I’ll get you another lighter.”

“No,” he said softly, “I’ll have the old one repaired. Do it first thing when we get back to Denver.”

Sullivan and Kay were hardly airborne before they were once again descending. The little commuter plane glided to a stop at Governor’s Harbour Airport and Kay and Sullivan hurried for a taxi that took them up a very narrow road to the ferry dock. Hopping on to the ferry, they were taken to the Dunsmore town dock.

Kay, stepping from the ferry, cast her eyes to the tiny town on the small island. She felt Sullivan tugging on her hand, saying, “Let’s go.”

She fell into step, thinking he meant them to explore the old village with its neat two-and three-story buildings. He walked briskly and Kay hurried to keep up. He seemed to have a destination in mind.

They went directly to a quaint hotel where Sullivan let go of Kay’s hand and strode directly to the desk. Kay let her eyes wander around the empty lobby, wondering idly if he intended for them to check in and spend the day in their room.

Soon he was walking back, taking her arm and smiling broadly. “I’ve made arrangements to have us ferried to a tiny, uninhabited island for a very private afternoon.”

“You’re teasing me,” she arched her eyebrows.

“I’m not,” he assured her. “The hotel dining room is going to pack us a lunch. We’ll take the food, head back to the pier and meet our boat. Sound good?” He wore that relaxed, pleased-with-himself look she’d seen so many times and loved.

“Sounds wonderful,” she said, thinking this was going to be one lovely Sunday.

And it was.

Less than an hour after leaving the Dunsmore town hotel, a wicker basket of food over Sullivan’s bent arm, the pair stepped from the boat onto the hot, blindingly white sands of a minuscule island that belonged only to them for the day.

The smiling little man who’d transported them waved a cheerful goodbye, thus assuring the handsome couple of their privacy. He promised he’d return for them promptly at 8:00 p.m. In seconds he was only a speck on the emerald waters.

Sullivan stashed the food chest back off the beach, under dense, shading foliage, then turned and said, “Shall we take a swim before we eat?” His hands were already lifting to strip the red and white shirt up over his stomach and chest.

“Love to.” Kay unzipped the bright yellow slacks, kicked off her thong sandals and stepped out of the pants.

Sullivan, speedier than Kay, stood stripped down to his white swim trunks. His dark eyes narrowed, intensely observing the lovely, slender woman shrugging out of a striped blouse. Kay, feeling those dark eyes on her, looked up, smiled nervously and tugged at the tight bikini bottom, jerking frantically at the high-riding fabric covering her buttocks.

“Are you forgetting?” Sullivan walked to her. “We’re alone here. You don’t have to tug on your suit. You don’t even have to wear a suit.”

“I’ll wear a suit,” she informed him and started for the water. He gave no reply, but he smiled devilishly. Kay felt a rush of blood to her face and had the feeling that before this lovely day ended, she’d be suitless and happy to be.

Together they played in the water, shouting, laughing, splashing, until they were out of breath and tired. Sullivan swung Kay up into his arms and carried her onto the beach, dumping her onto the big beach blanket spread close to the water’s edge.

They lay on their backs in the sweltering sun, lazy, happy and soon hungry. Kay eagerly looked inside the big wicker hamper. “Sullivan,” she said, “they’ve thought of everything. There’s cold roast beef and ham and cheese and bread and wine and fruit.”

They dozed for a time after their lunch, too full for activity. Kay stirred first, rolling easily to a sitting position. Beside her, Sullivan, resting on his stomach, dark cheek pressed against a bent forearm, slept peacefully.

Kay sighed with supreme happiness. They were here, alone, on this beautiful tiny island of their own. She hugged her knees thinking that surely all that life had to offer was present on this glorious, sun-drenched Sunday afternoon. Skies of cobalt blue held a few puffy white clouds high above. Sparkling crystals of sand, as white as the clouds, made a warm, cushioning bed for suntanned bodies. Water, so deep and clear she could see the bottom, rolled peacefully in to shore; the only sound, save the deep, even breathing of the handsome man asleep on his stomach.