The Devil's Right Hand - J. D. Rhoades [44]
After a few minutes, she came out into the living room. She was dressed in a short white silk robe that belted at the waist. Her hair was still wet from the shower. She sat on the recliner. They looked at each other for a while, neither one speaking.
“Hey,” she said finally.
“Hey,” he said. “Sleep good?”
She smiled. “Yeah. I, uh…I guess I needed that.”
“It’s a start. Some things take a while to get over.”
“You sound like you know what you’re talking about.”
He nodded. “Yeah. I’ve been there.”
“You keep saying that.”
“I know.”
“You get over it?”
He shook his head. “No. Not yet.”
“And it’s been how long?”
“Ten years”.
Marie shook her head. “Jesus.” They were silent for a minute. She turned to him. “Look, um, Keller, the way I acted…”
“Don’t worry about it. You needed to let it go.”
“Did you ever lose it like that?”
“No.” he grimaced. “It’s probably why I’m still so fucked up.”
“Hmm,” she said. “But anyway, that’s not what I meant. Not the crying. The--the other thing.”
He looked away and cleared his throat. “Don’t worry about that, either," he said. “Stress reaction. Happens a lot to people who…”
“I don’t act like that, Keller,” she interrupted. “Ever.”
“I didn’t think so,” he said. “Like I said. Stress.”
She looked down for a second, then back at him. “What I want to know is--damn it!” She shook her head angrily.
“You want to know why I didn’t take you up on it.”
She bit her lip. “It’s not like I wanted you to--I mean I did at the time, but I’m not--I mean…” She looked at him with narrowed eyes. “You’re not queer or anything, are you?”
He barked out a laugh. “I think you know better,” he said. “You had a pretty good grip on the evidence.” Her face reddened with embarrassment and Keller immediately felt contrite. “Look,” he said. “You know how confused you are right now? Imagine how you’d feel if we had done it.”
This time it was her turn to laugh. “Okay,” she said. “Point taken.” She gave him a crooked smile. “A regular Sir Galahad, you are.”
He shook his head. “It would have been unfair. Like you say, you weren’t yourself. I’d only want it if…” he stopped.
“What?” she said.
“Nothing.”
She stood up and walked over to stand in front of him. “You’d only want to make love to me if I was myself, is that want you were going to say?” she said softly.
He looked into her eyes. His mouth felt dry. “Yeah.”
She looked uncertain for a moment, then took a deep breath. “So what about now?”
He could only nod.
“That may be the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me,” she said. She reached up and unbelted the robe. She was naked underneath. She moved forward and seated herself across his lap, straddling his hips.
“I’m feeling a lot better now,” she whispered as she kissed him. He hesitated for a moment, then kissed her back, his hands sliding around her to caress up and down her back. She moaned deep in her throat. This time, there was no hysteria, no pain in the sound. She reached down to undo his belt. He raised his hips slightly as she hooked her thumbs into his waistband and yanked his jeans and underwear down to his knees. She moved further up on him as he grasped her buttocks in his hands and pulled her down. She gasped as they fit together. “Go slow,” she whispered. “Please--go slow.” He did as she asked, entering her slowly, gasping at the feel of her inner muscles gripping him. She threw her head back for a second and groaned as she slid further down onto him. Then they were joined together, fitting like puzzle pieces. She opened her eyes to look into his as they began to move.
They took it slowly for a long time, each trying to prolong the exquisite sensations as long as possible. Then control fell away from both of them and they moved faster, their gasps and moans filling the room. He buried his face in her shoulder and clutched her to him tightly as she screamed in climax. He groaned and came as well, feeling as if he was emptying himself into her, all the rage and pain and fear leaving him in one long rush.
They stayed like that for a long while, him still buried