Quest for redemption, p.9
Quest for Redemption, page 9
She’d been sipping some wine when he asked, and she took a moment to make sure she swallowed carefully. She licked her lips as she put down the glass. “Very much so,” she said. “Although, it is important. A relationship is like an engine, and sex is the oil that lubricates it.” She laughed. “Oh, dear, that sounds a little…well…”
He gave her that goosebump-raising smile of his again and reached over to touch her hand. “I think it sounded just fine,” he said. He left his hand on hers for a moment, two, then broke the touch and reached for his glass.
After the dessert—they shared a piece of cheesecake—Clint suggested a walk along the lake. The supper club had about fifty yards of lakefront and a walking path led to the west, through a wooded section. Gina saw other homes dotting the shoreline on the opposite side. Those people felt the same things she did about living in a lakefront home, she knew. There was a special magic about it, almost like when she was a girl, in Ravenna. Of course this lake, like her Camp Lake near Wilmot, was so very different than the Adriatic. Not as wild, not nearly as large, but she liked these Wisconsin lakes. She took a deep breath, reveling in the sensuousness of the moment. A delicious meal, great wine, a beautiful setting, and she was with a very attractive man.
A man who’s not your husband. That little voice hadn’t been heard from since she was getting ready for the da—the dinner-with-a-friend, but it came back now. She hesitated, stopped in her tracks.
“You okay?” Clint asked, beside her. She looked at him, saw real concern in his eyes.
“Yes, I’m fine,” she said. “I just—well, I might’ve left a faucet running at home.”
“As long as the drain’s open, it won’t flood the house, I’m sure.”
She laughed. “I’m sure it’ll be okay.”
He extended his elbow. “Shall we?” She took his arm and they walked on.
***
The hotel people had given Hayley the best room in the place, a two-room suite. Jim sat on the couch while she mixed him a drink from the minibar. Her back was to him as she worked, chatting away about how exciting it had been during the show when he took down Markus. Jim was half-listening, focusing more on the view. She was about five-five, slender, but not waif-like, oh no. Blonde hair that reached just past her shoulders. When she turned to him with their drinks, he asked, “Were you an athlete in high school?”
“Sure was,” she said, bringing him his whiskey sour. She sat next to him, one leg tucked under the other. Her drink looked like an Old Fashioned, the quintessential Wisconsin cocktail. “Volleyball, basketball, and track. Lettered every year except freshman.”
“Very impressive,” he said, remembering that she was in the class of 2010. He wasn’t old enough to be her grandfather, fortunately. Father, yes, but that didn’t seem to bother her. “Do you still work out?”
“When I’ve got time,” she said. “I do yoga every morning, hit the gym when I can. It’s tough when you’re on the road, but I try to keep at it. In this business, you have to have the look, know what I mean?”
He nodded. “I’m sure there’s a lot of pressure.”
“I love pressure,” she said. “It’s my thing. My senior year, I made State track in hurdles.”
He sipped his drink. “How’d you do?”
“Took second in the hundred meters. Lost to a gal from Sturgeon Bay by half a second.”
“Ouch,” Jim said.
“Tell me about it.” She took a good swig of her Old Fashioned. “It’s a bitch to get that far and then, you’re so close…”
“I know exactly what you mean.”
“But hey, playing sports all the time got me working out, and I just kept at it, even after I graduated. You don’t get these by sitting around watching TV, eating pork rinds.” She put her glass on the table, then pulled up her tee shirt, revealing nicely toned abs. Jim also noticed that the undersides of her breasts were visible.
“Impressive,” he said. He offered his drink in salute. Thankfully, she lowered the hem of the shirt so she could get her own glass. “Let’s drink to fitness,” he said.
They clicked glasses, drank. “My abs are good,” she said, “but my legs, now, they’re still my best feature, I think. If you want to be a hurdler, you gotta have the legs.”
Hoping she wouldn’t offer to show them off, he said, “My game was basketball.”
“Yeah? I figured, since you’re tall. I like tall guys.” She moved a little closer. “Say, would you like me to freshen up that drink?”
“I’m good,” he said, showing her the half-full glass.
“I mean, some good shit, better than Jack Daniel’s, even.”
“Not sure I follow,” Jim said, wondering where this was leading.
She smiled, set her drink back on the table and walked over to the dresser. She rummaged around in a purse, said, “Ah, there you are, you little devil,” and held up a small vial of clear liquid. “Takes the edge off,” she said.
“What is that?”
“It’s called G.” She walked over to him, took his drink, flicked the top of the vial open with a thumb and gently shook two drops into the whiskey sour. “That’s all it’ll take,” she said.
“For what?”
“Nothing hallucinogenic,” she said. “Trust me. You’ll never guess who I got this from.”
“Who?”
“Take a sip, just a little one, and I’ll tell you,” she said with a smile. He noticed that she hadn’t put any of the G in her own drink.
Although an inner voice was telling him this was something he definitely shouldn’t be doing, he hadn’t been paying much attention to that voice for the past hour or so, and he didn’t now. He took a sip. Tasted like a plain old whiskey sour. “Okay, there you are,” he said.
She leaned closer to him, put her hand on his thigh, squeezed, and whispered a name into his ear. “You’re kidding,” he said.
She sat back and laughed. “Hell, no, I’m not kidding. I opened a couple shows for her in Omaha a few months back. She said, ‘Honey, you ever want to get a man in the mood, and I mean like ready to rock ‘n roll, with emphasis on rock, this is the good shit.’”
“I wouldn’t think she would have any problem persuading a guy to rock with her,” he said, remembering a TV show that featured that singer’s Las Vegas act. To say she was a knockout would be a serious understatement. “But anyway…” He was about to say that he should be going now, but something was shifting his attention away from the door and back to the lovely young woman sitting just a few inches from him. The one whose nipples were now threatening to poke through the fabric of her shirt…
“How you feelin’, Jimbo?”
“Uh…pretty good, actually,” he said. It was getting kind of warm in the room, but from inside of him. He took another sip. It was supposed to be just a tiny one, but…
“Hey, I said my legs are my best feature, remember?”
“You have a lot of very good features, Hayley.”
“Yeah, but the legs…want to see ‘em?”
What the hell. “Sure,” he said. What harm could it do? Although he appreciated good legs on a woman, he was a midriff man from way back, and he’d already seen hers, which was top of the line. So, the legs…
Smiling, she stood up, unbuttoned her jeans, unzipped them slowly, then hooked her thumbs on either side at her hips and pulled down, first one side, then the other. It didn’t take more than a couple tugs for Jim to realize that Hayley had gone full commando this evening.
When the pants were puddled at the floor, she stepped out of them, stood in front of him and put her hands on her hips. She posed for him, first twisting left, then right. “What do you think? Was I right?”
“Absolutely,” he said. He put his drink on the table, felt his last bits of resistance wash away like magic, and reached for her.
***
They were about fifty yards down the walking path when Gina started thinking it might be time to turn back. The sky over the eastern shore was tinting a little darker. Up ahead, the path curved to the left, out of sight. There was a handful of boats out on the shimmering surface, fishermen wetting a line, a couple pontoons out for an evening cruise. She slowed to a stop, a part of her not wanting the moment to end, another part telling her it was long past time to end it, Gina and Mrs. Hayes racing each other to two different finish lines. The wife pulled slightly ahead. “We should probably be heading back,” she said.
Clint turned to face her. “The night is still pretty young,” he said. “I seem to recall you like classic rock, and you’re a great dancer. I heard there’s a kick-ass band playing at a place up in Bristol. That’s just a few miles north of here. How about we…”
Gina placed a hand on his chest, more of a subtle warning than anything else. At least, that’s how she thought of it. She didn’t stop to think that Clint might interpret it as something else entirely. Two of her fingertips rested on his bare skin, where his shirt was unbuttoned. She felt the little hairs, a slight sheen of perspiration. “Maybe…look, Clint, I enjoy spending time with you, but…”
“I understand,” he said softly. Her right hand, which had been in the crook of his elbow, slid down as he reached for it, clasped it. With his other hand, he tilted her chin up ever so gently. “You’re a very beautiful woman, Gina. I enjoy spending time with you, too. I want to be with you tonight.” He lowered his lips to hers.
The kiss was soft, delicate, and then she felt her own lips parting, matching his. She felt a touch on her tongue, responded with one of her own. Her hand slid across his chest, over his nipple, surprisingly hard underneath his shirt. As her fingers flicked over it, she felt him take in a sharp breath and he pressed her lips harder. His hand left hers and moved over her waist, to the small of her back, down to her buttocks. Their tongues danced.
She forced herself to break the kiss. “Clint, I…”
“Gina…” His right hand crept up her side, slid over to her breast. It was like an electric shock for her. She knew he could feel the nipple, even through two layers of fabric. His body tensed ever so slightly, and he pulled her hips into his. “Take me back to your place.” He kissed her again, deeply, then said, “Vogle fare l’amore con te.”
In spite of everything, she had to smile. “I thought you said you didn’t know Italian,” she said.
“I learned just that little bit. For you,” he said. “I want to make love to you, Gina. You feel it, too, don’t you?”
“Clint, you know I’m a married woman.”
“We’re two consenting adults, Gina. Embrace the moment. Feelings like these may never come again.”
The heat inside her was almost unbearable. He pulled her close again, and they kissed. Her hand, almost of its own free will, slid down from his chest to his waist, then, after a moment’s hesitation, even lower. She felt him through his pants. “Oh, Dio…” she breathed, and her tongue found his again.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Duluth, Minnesota
“You haven’t said a lot this morning, boss,” Phil King said as they waited outside the hotel, watching the band and its hangers-on get off the bus.
“Just kind of tired,” Jim said. He tried to offer a smile, knew it came off weak.
“We figured you might’ve hit it early last night, when you didn’t make it down to the bar.”
“Yeah. I…decided to turn in. It’s been a long week.” He took out his phone, looked at it, tapped on a random app. Nothing there he wanted to see, he just wanted to end the conversation without appearing to be too rude.
He’d turned in, all right, making it back to his own bed just after one a.m. The clock on the bedstand showed 12:47 when he awoke. The problem was, the clock wasn’t the one in his room. It was in Hayley’s room, and she was next to him, one arm draped over his waist, a leg hooked on his. She was snoring, a gentle, rhythmic buzz that he might’ve found amusing under much different circumstances.
The sight of the clock and the feel of her limbs around him brought him instantly awake and alert. He almost panicked but forced himself to control his breathing. The events of the past couple hours…they were foggy, like wisps of a dream. He remembered her undressing, oh yes, and straddling him on his lap as she put her arms around his neck and pulled his lips to hers. After that…
Had he…actually had sex with her? With Gina, he occasionally needed a little extra chemical boost, not at all uncommon for men his age. He used over-the-counter supplements, usually the kind available at most pharmacies. Every now and then he might order something he found online. There’d been no silver bullet yet, no magical instant-wood formula, but they helped. He hadn’t brought any of them on this trip, of course. Why would he need them?
When he was with Gina, and she was in the mood and at her most sensuous, that was all he needed. So, had Hayley’s little striptease done the job? Dammit, he couldn’t remember! There’d definitely been some touching, and he had flashes of her mouth on his…He looked back toward where Gregson was talking with King. Calm down, he told himself. Sort it out later, during the ride home. He’d offer to take the first shift behind the wheel. Everyone would be asleep by the time they got to Rice Lake, ninety miles away. Just as well, because that’s where he’d first made love with Gina, and so his mind would be pretty occupied with that memory as he tried to untangle last night’s.
One of the last off the bus was the star herself, looking well-rested and perky in yoga pants, a loose-fitting sweatshirt with a Rhinelander logo, and flip-flops. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She looked all of seventeen…which, Jim recalled, was only six years ago. He’d turned seventeen when Jimmy Carter was in the White House. Kids Haley’s age might remember Carter from high school history class, if they’d been paying attention that day. She saw Jim, smiled brightly, gave him a wave. He nodded, returned a little smile of his own, hoping nobody else would notice.
He could ask her, of course. But how the hell was a man supposed to approach a woman about a question like that? And he’d better hurry, because the Twin Cities team was due any minute for the handoff.
“I’ve got to check on something with the road manager,” he said to Gregson and King as he walked past them toward the hotel.
“Jackson’s already inside, checking out the setup,” King said.
“Yeah…that’s right. But I’ve got to use the facilities anyway, before we head out.” Not wanting any more questions, any more conversation at all with his people right now, Jim hustled into the lobby.
Hayley was talking with the women who were two-thirds of her backup singers as the road manager distributed key cards to the traveling party. He handed one to Hayley and one to the girls, who were rooming together. Jim overheard some talk about finding a coffee shop somewhere as he approached. Hayley saw him and there was that smile again, just enough of a combination of impish and seductive to be really dangerous under the right circumstances. Like last night, he thought.
“Hey, Jim. How’s it going?”
“Good. I wonder if I might have a quick word.” To the singers, he said, “Gals, please excuse us a moment.”
“Catch up with you later,” Hayley said as Jim led her toward the first available room. It appeared to be set up for a meeting but was otherwise empty, the lights off. Sunlight filtered in through the window at the far end. Jim deliberately left the door ajar.
As soon as they were out of sight of the hallway, Hayley threw her arms around him, pulling him down for a kiss. He allowed it, then gently pushed her away. “Hayley, listen…”
“I had a great time last night, Jim,” she said. “Too bad we don’t have more time today. You’re heading back, right?”
“Your Minnesota team should be here any minute,” he said. “Listen, about last night…”
“Sounds like a movie title. Yeah! Early Demi Moore flick, right? I love her movies. Her and Rob Lowe, and they didn’t leave much to the imagination, either. Have you seen it?”
“Uh…no. Maybe. Hayley, I, uh, well…that stuff you gave me, the G…”
She smiled wickedly. “Did the job, didn’t it? I have to tell you, Jim, I’ve never been with a man twenty years older than me before last night, and you rocked.” She leaned forward and kissed him again, this time trying to engage with the tongue. He pushed her away again but couldn’t bring himself to get too stern with her. Nothing even close to it. It wasn’t her fault, after all. Well, maybe some, but…
“I’m more than twenty years older than you,” he said, feeling some perverse pleasure, even…pride? “Try thirty-one.”
Her eyes went wide. “Really? Holy fuck.”
“There wasn’t much ‘holy’ about it,” Jim said. “Hayley, I just wanted to—”
“You don’t have to apologize, Jim. I wanted it to happen. You did too, didn’t you?”
This wasn’t going like he planned. In fact, he hadn’t really had a plan at all, had he? And he’d found out what he wanted to know. It was time to go. “I’m a married man, Hayley. Whether I wanted it to happen or not isn’t the point.”
“We’re two consenting adults, Jim. Either one of us could’ve said ‘stop’ at any time, but we didn’t.”
“Look, that stuff you slipped me…”
Her eyes flashed anger. “Hey, I didn’t force you to drink it.”
He looked away. “I know. I’m sorry if I implied…well, any kind of fault.” Emotion welled up inside him. What was he going to say to Gina? Should he say anything? How could he possibly keep this a secret from her? He blinked as his eyes watered.
