Part 9 (1/2)
”And what?” I asked gently.
Kathryn smiled. ”And, no pa.s.sion.”
”In the bedroom?” I asked with my eyebrows raised.
”Yes, and in general too. Well, that little forty-eight hour drive of mine gave me a long time to think. I made some decisions about my future.”
”You decided to swear off women?”
”No, I decided to swear off bad relations.h.i.+ps. I'm gun shy and a bit reactionary. You know, what you said about hurting someone intentionally? Aisling surely had done this to other women, once they too had aged-out of her interest zone. She dumped me by making me leave her. So calculating. So hurtful. And it's left me with a suspicion I find hard to ignore sometimes.”
”Were you angry at her for a long time?”
”I felt relief more than anything. I remember sleeping for hours and finally waking up and feeling lighter than I had in years. I was most angry with myself for asking so little of a relations.h.i.+p. She never said explicitly that we were exclusive.” Kathryn paused.
I took the hint. ”Kathryn, it's my understanding that we are in an exclusive relations.h.i.+p. And only until we may mutually express otherwise. That means that neither of us will be sleeping with, kissing, holding hands with, or, as the Andrews Sisters so eloquently sang, sitting under the apple tree with anyone else but each other. OK?”
She smiled that lovely half-smile and looked deeply into my eyes. ”OK,” she said.
We kissed. I could feel Kathryn's mouth curve into a smile. It was a deal-sealing kiss. She gently touched my face when we drew apart. And then we hugged and held each other again for several minutes in an unspoken conversation that said a thousand words.
”Do you ever think about Aisling?” I said when we finally parted.
”Every now and then I wonder just how many young women have shared Ash's bed, and I feel a little sorry for them,” she said.
”Because she cheated on them, too?”
”No.” Kathryn laughed. ”Because I know what a dull time they were having!”
”So that's my cue. No pressure, huh?”
”I like a certain amount of pressure!” said Kathryn, rolling back on top of me. We kissed hotly and then she sat back.
I caressed her thighs, then urged her up the bed until I could reach her with my mouth. She stretched out and steadied herself by grasping the top edge of the headboard. I looked up at her as I found her with my tongue, then slipped my hands under and behind her to hold her tightly to me as I explored and then found my mark. She let go of the headboard, arching her back. It all happened very fast. She let the pleasure wash over her like a swollen creek swirling over rough stones. She moaned deeply in satisfaction.
Then she moved to kiss her way down my body. Soon, she was at the foot of the bed working me into the frenzy I'd been holding back since right after the brunch. She reached up to tease my b.r.e.a.s.t.s at the same time. She brought me to climax swiftly, realizing just what I needed.
As the moments of perfect pleasure flooded through my body, they chased a fleeting thought that this was a very intimate way to communicate. Kathryn seemed to agree, because after allowing me a few minutes to recharge she found me with her tongue again and brought me to another lovely climax. Slower this time, with more attention to detail. She had a way of watching as she did it that made me want to keep my eyes open.
When I was sated, I moved to satisfy her again. She responded to slow rousing strokes until she came with a long shuddering moan that surprised me with its primitive tones.
”Lordy,” she groaned into my shoulder, ”how can you manage to do this to me when we're both so tired? Neither of us had had more than four hours sleep.”
”You have a point. Next time we should just let the trained seals do all the work.” I yawned.
She laughed and put her arms around me.
As we fell asleep, I pa.r.s.ed our earlier discussions. Control, trust, fidelity, commitment. How do we prove ourselves? Where do we find the steel drum to drown out our insecurities and doubts.
Chapter 7.
The next morning I awoke before Kathryn and slipped out of bed to shower and dress before she'd even stirred. When I came back into the bedroom she turned and smiled at me, then reached her arms over her head in a feline way and groaned.
”I see what you mean about stretching,” she murmured as she opened her arms to me and I went to kiss her good morning. ”You did wonderful things to me last night.”
”I'm flattered you think it was all me, but it takes two for a tango like that, querida.”
She stretched and then swung her legs over the edge of the bed. ”If I can make an appointment around lunch time, would you be able to go to the museum with me? I'd like to take my alleged Victoria Willomere Snow sculptures over there to get that woman's opinion. What was her name?”
”Funny, I can't remember.”
”Piper Staplehurst,” said Kathryn pointedly, leaning out of the bathroom. ”I should google her to see what she's published. You can give her your crime report.”
Minutes later I was staring out the window as eggs poached, trying to recall a dream I'd had in the night. Dreams have always played a significant part in my life. When I was a child, I'd dream whole scenarios with me as an observer. My dreams often helped me figure things out, and now and then they could be prophetic. I could only get the tail of the one I'd had the night before. It was Red disappearing as he ran toward the yew bushes.”
Suddenly there was Kathryn, elegantly dressed in tan linen pants, cashmere top, and a soft gray kimono style jacket with mauve silk lapels.
”Coffee,” she said, turning for a cup from the maker on the counter.
I was dressed in my typical private eye uniform, black jeans, dark gray sweater, polo s.h.i.+rt (blue this time), and black running shoes.
Toast popped up. She b.u.t.tered both pieces and put them on plates. We ate at the little table by the window in companionable silence.
”What are you going to do about that person who was killed?” she said.
”Mm,” I said, putting down my coffee mug. ”Carbondale fired me.”
”What?”
”Well, he didn't really fire me; the case is over. Someone being killed in the cemetery pretty much confirms there's crime in there. The whole thing seems, I don't know, strange somehow. I don't like it. I'm going to work on it anyway.”
Kathryn said in an amused voice, ”We've established that trust is one of my issues. Perhaps not wanting to give up control is one of yours.”
”I think that's one of yours too. But shall we call it tenaciousness? Then it's more like a virtue.”
”Hi, Maggie,” said Nora Hasan waving.
When Kathryn left for work, I'd commuted downstairs to my office, and there was Nora at the front desk on the landline phone in the shared reception room of Gale Investigations and Martinez and Strong, Partners at Law. I did a double-take, smirked, and waved back to Nora, then went directly into Sara's office.
”Tuviste suerte, eh?” I teased as I closed the door. Sara was dressed for court in a dark tailored suit and white silk blouse. She swiveled toward me in her chair and smiled.
”No tuve suerte en el sentido que tu piensas, cerebro de cisterna.”