Things I Want My Daughters to Know_ A Novel - Elizabeth Noble [128]
Jennifer watched the retreating back of the temporary friend she had granted more access than people she had known her whole life, skis and poles balanced on her shoulders like a pro, and realized that the admiration of their early acquaintance had become more like envy. This woman knew exactly what she wanted. And she’d got it. How was it possible that she could still be so mired in indecision? One thing she was sure of was that she couldn’t keep blaming Stephen for it. And she couldn’t keep ignoring it.
She spent the rest of the afternoon in her room, thinking, and pretending to read. That evening was the chalet maid’s night off, and they were all to fend for themselves in the wild hinterland of the village. Emboldened, perhaps by Wendy’s words, or by that last blue run, Jennifer was determined to separate Stephen from the others, for this one night at least. They would go somewhere nice, just the two of them, and talk. Really talk. She took a long, hot bath, full of Molton Brown bubbles, dried her hair and applied the kind of makeup that looks like you are barefaced, and waited for Stephen on their bed, naked under a dry towel.
Sex had become, for her, leverage. She still enjoyed it and knew herself to be quite good at it, at least as far as Stephen was concerned—she hadn’t had a lot of practice on other people. Well, no one, except for John, and she didn’t remember that part of their lives as being particularly fulfilling. She was a late developer. But she knew what worked for her and Stephen. Mostly, these days, it was a means to an end. It softened Stephen up, mellowed him out.
She heard everyone come in. It was already dark outside, and it had started to snow again. Boots were stamped against the ceramic tile floor, the whistling kettle was boiled for tea. Everyone was laughing and exuberant. Children ran up and down in the room above her head, screaming wildly. She put her head back against the wall behind the bed, closed her eyes, and tried to think sexy thoughts amid the ensuing chaos. There was this one time, really early on, when she and Stephen had made love…she supposed she remembered it so well, and as being so perfect, because it marked the real beginning of them. It was all new and raw. She’d been someone she didn’t recognize, and she’d liked being her. There’d been a mirror, across from the bed, in this place they were staying and they’d watched themselves. She’d never done anything like that before; it was the first time she’d seen herself naked in such a position, and she’d surprised herself by being totally into it, watching herself climb on top of Stephen, watching them move together, their faces, their straining. She thought about that, her hand moving gently under the towel and waited for him, with increasing, delicious impatience.
HE KNEW FROM THE LOOK ON HER FACE, WHEN HE CLOSED THE door behind him, and saw her lying there, what she was doing, what she wanted. And his response was gratifyingly instantaneous, despite the long day of black runs. He smiled and locked the door. Of all the things he might have expected at the end of his day, this was not one of them, and he had no urge to deconstruct it. Coming over, slowly, he kneeled beside the bed, pulling the towel to one side, and planted a trail of little kisses around her navel. She peeled his thermals over his head, wanting to get to his skin, and he took his ski trousers down to around his knees, his growing erection clearly visible through his long johns.
“I stink like a racehorse.” He spoke against her stomach.
“I don’t care.”
“I should take a shower?” His voice was muffled. She wasn’t sure she could wait that long. He raised his face and grinned sexily at her. “Come with me?”
“I dried my hair.”
It was his turn. “I saw. I don’t care.” He pulled her to her feet.
In