Wishes and Kisses Page 3
Burke was a connoisseur. He laved my labia with his tongue, long, smooth, even spaced strokes that drove me higher and higher until I hung at the eclipse of all-encompassing desire; he drove me crazy—until I fell off the abyss, shrieking and panting, and sweating—climaxing over and over again. Oh, yeah. He’d hit the raw desire of my center and, somehow I began to think my existence as I knew it would never be the same.
That night I slept in his arms and he woke me twice. The third time he tried I just couldn’t rally enough energy to open my eyes but lay there in half-sleep, enjoying his love-making.
I woke the next morning, my ass pleasantly sore. He asked if I wanted more and my eyes widened. I gave no reply but just watched him walk over to his duffel bag again.
When I realized his intentions I knew I couldn’t take any more birthday treats today so I shouted, “No more, Burke.”
Burke quirked one eyebrow. “You sure about that? After all, it’ll be another whole year before you earn another.”
“Who says?” I gave him a cheeky grin.
He laughed and came back to me. We spent the day in ordinary pursuits; he had room service deliver an enormous breakfast to our suite. We showered together, dressed and headed outdoors. It hadn’t cooled off any but that was okay since our desire for each other still blazed mightily as we walked side by side down city sidewalks. We held hands and window-shopped, stopped by the local zoo and watched animal antics then headed for a bistro café for lunch.
I know, you’re probably wondering at this point why we hadn’t spent the entire day in bed but somehow, though it was left unsaid, I believed we wanted to get to know each other in a normal boy-girl sort of way.
After supper that evening, we should have parted, his twenty-four hour birthday job was done, but we didn’t. We didn’t even talk about it. It just seemed natural that we’d kick back and watch a movie together in our hotel room, drinking wine and noshing on the midnight snack we’d ordered. We made love half the night before falling into an exhausted sleep.
I woke up the next morning with a headache. Must have been the red wine, I decided as I hauled myself out of bed without a glance at Burke who was gently snoring beside me. Good grief, this was such a homey, comfortable feeling, waking up beside him, that instantaneous loneliness filled me as I thought about not seeing him again.
I showered and washed my hair with my eyes closed. Then I heard the shower door open. I smiled but didn’t open my eyes. Prickly sensations of pleasant awareness came over me when he slid his body up and down mine, until he finally took me in his arms and kissed me. Then he backed me up against the shower wall, lifted me up onto his forearms, his hands plastered against the tile wall and took me hard and fast. This would be our final parting gift to each other.
In his car on the way to my apartment we didn’t speak. He parked outside my apartment, ready to escort me inside when I stopped him.
“No, that’s okay.” I felt tears glistening in my eyes and prayed they wouldn’t fall, even as I put on this false-happy expression. “Thanks for the memorable birthday.” I laughed. “It was fantastic after all a girl doesn’t turn twenty-one every day.”
He grinned and sank against the back of his seat. “This thing between us has only begun. You know that, don’t you?”
“Has it?” I said, answering his smile with a small one of my own.
“Damned right. I’ll be calling.” He leaned over, cupped my face and kissed me hard. Finally, after a few moments I broke the kiss and tore from the car. I gathered my composure, tugging on the hem of my blouse as I headed for the front entrance of my apartment building.
With the light of day and the absence of temptation I understood this thing between us wouldn’t last, mostly because of me. Just the thought of him providing escort and other services to a woman aside from me made me feel bad—really bad. Yet I understood this was the life he’d chosen for himself. I either shared him with other women or we wouldn’t be together.
I had to think about this. I know you’re probably finding this unbelievable after the twenty-four dynamite hours we spent together but remember what I’d said at the beginning? About how I’d been unlucky in love, and that I’d always been attracted to bad boys? Burke was, plain and simple, just another bad boy, albeit a charming one. But I was looking for the whole Prince Charming thing, you know? And I knew I wasn’t going to find it with Burke.
The following afternoon I went to work. My library work is the most relaxing job I’ve ever had. The pace is slow but even; I never feel pressured the way I did when I worked as a photographer. But I knew I wouldn’t last long at the job since the slower pace would eventually bore me.
Closing time was ten o’clock. At half past ten I locked all the doors and was setting the alarm in the back work room when I heard a key turning in the lock of the door to my left. I froze where I stood, against one long table used for sorting books.
Marianne O’Connor, another clerk, had left half an hour ago. Had she forgotten something? The door opened and my eyes widened on Burke Severson who looked even more surprised than me.
* * * *
“What are you doing here?” he said, bewildered.
I leaned against the table, planting my butt against the edge. “I work here.”
He didn’t reply at first but took in my sensible ankle-length white cotton skirt and top, my short-heeled conservative shoes then met my eyes. He grinned and closed the door behind him. Leaning against it he folded his arms across his chest. “No kidding?” he finally said. “I guess I should have asked what you did in life but never got around to it.”
I narrowed my eyes on his humorous expression, noted the laughter in his voice, wondering all the while why he’d have a key to the library.
Then I remembered during my interview a few weeks ago how the assistant librarian mentioned it was unusual that she was conducting interviews. The job usually fell upon the head librarian’s shoulders. But he was on vacation.
Laughing aloud I shook my head, hitched up my skirt and sat on the table. No way was Burke a librarian. There was just no way! My skepticism vanished though with his next words.
“So, you must be the new library clerk,” he said.
I kept my gaze on him as he ambled toward me. He was dressed in work-out gear, shorts, cropped, sleeveless sweatshirt and running shoes.
Groaning, I closed my eyes and stopped him. “Don’t say you’re my boss. Please don’t say it.”
“Sorry to disillusion you, sweetheart.”
My eyes snapped open when I felt his hand brush a lock of my hair back from my forehead. He stood directly in front of me. Then he moved in closer, separating my thighs, widening his stance between them.
“This can’t be happening. Not to me. Damn that Stephanie. How did you say the two of you met?”
He gave her a wry smile. “Through her last boyfriend, who happens to be one of my best friends.”
Then I realized it was coincidence, plain and simple. Stephanie did not do libraries; she did trendy bookstores with coffee shops in them.
I felt his breath on the side of my neck and then he started kissing it. I breathed in the scent of him, sandalwood, I decided, and couldn’t push him away. I felt lethargic as he proceeded to nibble on my earlobe.
“I missed you,” he growled, then slid his lips across my cheeks and took my mouth in a demanding kiss.
Impossible. It had only been twenty-four hours since we’d seen each other.
When his hand moved to my waist, then slid down my thigh and under my skirt I gathered my wits by grabbing his wrist and pulled his hand away.
He stepped back and just stared at me with that intent level look of his that made me feel hot and bothered. Oh, what this guy could do to me. But I wanted to hear his story. Why in the hell would an intelligent guy with a perfectly respectable job take on a night job as an escort? Or, maybe taking on a job as escort is what he considered a vacation.
“Why?” I asked, not embellishing
my question.
He moved away from me and leaned against the table opposite the one upon which I sat. “Money, of course.”
“That’s it—just money?”
“I’ve got student loans to pay back.”
“I see.” I have student loans, but it didn’t mean I’d sell my body to paying guys looking for a good time. Okay. I’m lying. Maybe I would to a great looking guy like Burke.
He shook his head. “No, you don’t, but I’ll tell you. My family was far from wealthy. As a matter of fact, we were downright poor. I luckily earned a one-year grant to attend the University of Minnesota and chose library science after that first year.”
“I just can’t imagine you as a librarian.”
“I’ve always enjoyed reading—and writing. I just finished my first novel and am in the process of shopping it around. I hate being in debt and vowed to pay back all the loans before I reached twenty-five. I’m twenty-seven and I’m close to being rid of them, but wouldn’t have if I hadn’t taken on the escort job a year ago.”
“You’ve been entertaining women for an entire year?”
He laughed. “Not in the way I entertained you. I don’t usually bed the women I escort. I mostly provide a service; escorting them to parties, dances, events, that sort of thing.”
“Is Burke your real name?” I asked.
“No, but Severson is.”
I caught the faint blush on his cheeks.
“And your first name?”
“I’m George. George Andrew Severson.”
“George?”
“I know. I hate it, always have, but I’m named after my grandfather, whom I adored.”
“George,” I said softly as I peered at him. After a moment I smiled. “You know, it suits you, I think.”
He grinned. “So what are we going to do about us?”
“Other than yesterday I don’t think there is an ‘us’.”
“I said I’d be calling you and I meant it.” He held up his palm, preventing me from replying. “I know, I know, I hadn’t asked for your phone number. I knew I could get it from Stephanie.”
“Burke...er...George, you know I’d enjoy seeing you again, but I just don’t feel like competing with other women.”
“I’ve only got a few months left before my loans are paid off.”
I folded my arms across my chest and stared at him a long while, thinking what to do. I came to a decision and hopped off the table. “Finish paying them off and then we’ll talk.”
I picked up my purse from the corner of the table and moved around him.
He grabbed my elbow and held me at his side, glaring down at me. “Are you saying you don’t want anything to do with me until I’ve left the escort service?”
I nodded. “That’s right.”
“What if I don’t want to leave? What if I enjoy it too much to leave?”
“I won’t share you, Burke. It’s me or them.” I kept my demeanor cool and calm as I could.
“You drive a hard bargain, lady,” he drawled.
I saw admiration in his eyes then and prayed I’d won.
* * * *
Summer passed along with the intense heat and fall arrived amidst blustery winds and gusty rains. I missed summer, mostly because I missed George. It had been three months since I’d last seen him.
A week after our meeting at the library I’d landed a photography position with a well known studio. My new boss loved my work. I remembered how upset George was when I told him that I’d be leaving the library. I wasn’t happy either. It meant I wouldn’t see him anymore—at least not until his loans were paid. For the first few weeks he called every night, asked me about the job, told me if I ever needed a job I could return to the library. I thanked him and told him each night (good grief, you’d think the guy would get the hint, wouldn’t you?) to call me only when things were settled in his life.
I’d been feeling pretty down the last few weeks, though, uncertain about our future. George hadn’t called in six weeks. I figured he’d given up on me and had decided to keep his part-time evening job. I had my pride and refused to call him, though several times I’d picked up the phone. I got to admit I’m pretty proud of myself; proud I hadn’t called him. I was at that point in my life where I needed a serious relationship, not just a casual one mixed in with large doses of hot sex. I wanted a serious relationship and the hot sex—nothing casual.
I was working late in the dark room at the studio on a Friday night when I heard knocking on the front door. I glanced at my watch, amazed to see it was midnight and I still had another hour of work to do. I left the darkroom and made my way to the front of the studio. Leaning to the side, I peered around a corner and gasped when I saw George pounding on one of the studio’s front windows.
I stepped out into the aisle and he saw me. He grinned, pressed his nose against the glass. I waved and my face broke into what I know was a brilliant smile. I was a woman past the age of playing flirtatious games and had no qualms showing him how happy I was to see him.
Still, I wouldn’t budge on my stance regarding our relationship. I wouldn’t settle for less than what I needed. Then he held up his hand and I saw a piece of legal-sized paper clutched in his fist.
Narrowing my eyes, I moved closer. When I stood across from him, the windowpane between us, he pointed at what appeared to be a long bank receipt filled with transactions with a zero at the bottom. I leaned closer and saw the name of a bank, with the words ‘paid in full’ stamped at the bottom.
I understood. I nodded. I started crying. He looked panicked, came to the door and tried opening it.
“Unlock the damned door, sweetheart,” he shouted.
Just then a police car drove up. Two officers jumped out of the car and latched onto George’s arms, one on each side of him. He dropped the paper and he cursed the officers. They did not appreciate his disrespectful attitude. One of them picked up the paper and crumpled it into his pocket. The officer shouted at George, shoving him and ordering him to get inside the patrol car.
George protested, “But I’m not breaking into the place, for crissakes! She’ll tell you.” He jerked his head toward me.
They glanced at me but proceeded to handcuff George, his arms behind his back. He cursed loud enough I could clearly hear him. I started chuckling when they proceeded to read him his rights. They tried shoving George into the car but he’d locked his legs against the wheels and wouldn’t budge.
He was a big guy so they had their hands full. By now I was laughing so hard I decided I’d better step in and let them know he truly wasn’t breaking in, then, once I’d saved George, make a run for the bathroom.
Within seconds, I cleared everything up and, just as they went to unlock the cufflinks, I said, “Got a spare pair of those?”
The cops stared at me as if I was nuts.
I looked at George who started laughing as he collapsed against the side of the patrol car.
The officers were glaring between the two of us.
Finally, George got himself under control, moved to my side, and put his arm around me.
The police drove away, shaking their heads in disgust.
George gave me a piercing look. “Handcuffs, hmm?”
I shrugged. “They looked...intriguing.”
Swatting my ass, not playfully, but hard enough I jumped and shrieked simultaneously, he said, “I’ll see what I can do.”
The End
About the Author
Nancy Schumacher is the owner-publisher of Mélange Books, LLC, writing under the pseudonym, Nancy Pirri. Nancy started writing fifteen years ago while raising four children. Nancy has been a member of Romance Writers of America and her local chapter, Midwest Fiction Writers, for nine years. She is also one of the founders of a second Minnesota RWA chapter, Northern Lights Writers (NLW). They meet in various locations in north-eastern Minnesota the fourth Saturday of the month.
Nancy's debut historical romance, THE MACAULAY BRIDE, set in late 19th centu
ry Scotland, was published in 2003. The debut book received several contest wins and received a TOP PICK award from Romantic Times publication in Oct. 2004. She has written five full-length novels, and many stories included in anthologies with Mélange Books, LLC. Her last story, To Love a Music Master appeared in the recently released anthology, Christmas Collectibles.
January 1, 2011, Nancy opened her new digital and print on demand house, Mélange Books, LLC, www.melange-books.com.
Website:
www.nancypirri.com
Other works by Author
Make Me Behave, with Tara Fox Hall
A Little Holiday Magic
One Magical Night
Riding Blue Steel
When Maggie Loved Patrick...Then John
Also featured in the following anthologies
Bikes & Booties
Christmas Collectibles
Holiday Treats
Mélange
Summer Sensations
Western Ways
Also Available
From Melange Books
When Maggie Loved Patrick...Then John
by Nancy Pirri
Maggie discovers her fiancé, Patrick, is cheating on her once again. When she catches him in bed with his secretary, she wants revenge. Then John, the secretary's fiancé, approaches her with a plan. Maggie gets much more than she bargained for.
Also Available
From Melange Books
Riding Blue Steel
by Nancy Pirri
One woman, biological clock ticking; one widowed father with no desire for more children. Is it lust or love at first sight at a Bikini Bike Wash?
Also Available
From Melange Books
One Magical Night
by Nancy Pirri