Page 129
Story: Tarnished Gold (Landry 5)
Resembling someone under hypnosis, I walked slowly, my legs feeling as if they glided on air to the bed. It was his idea that we not touch each other, not kiss, not caress, not even brush each other with our breaths for a while. He lay back as I undressed in the yellow glow of the small lantern. Then he shifted to the opposite side of the bed and I lay down, my head on the pillow, my eyes fixed on him. We gazed at each other, both our hearts pounding, the blood rushing through our bodies.
Every part of me longed to be touched. My lips tingled in anticipation. He smiled and brought his hand to within an inch of my breasts, moving over the air between us as if he were caressing me. I moaned, closed my eyes, and waited.
"It's exquisite, this torture," he said.
I squirmed, moaned again, and ran the tip of my tongue over my lips in anticipation of his kiss.
"Every inch between us is like a mile," he said. "Now you know how painful it is for me to return to New Orleans and what it is like for me to look out of my window toward the bayou and think of you."
I had come hoping to have the strength to refuse him, but now it was all I could do to keep from throwing myself at him.
"Gabriel," he finally said, and brought his lips closer and closer until we finally kissed. It was the most tingling, exciting kiss between us yet. I held him harder and tighter than he held me and then we touched and brought our bodies together. Our lovemaking was more frantic this time. It was as if we had driven each other mad by teasing each other with our desire. I didn't want it to end, and when it threatened to do so, I cried out and demanded more, digging my fingers into his shoulders and hips.
He laughed and we made love until both our bodies shone with sweat, our hearts ready to burst, our lungs unable to keep up with the demand for air. Gasping, but happier than ever, we lay back, our heads beside each other, his arm around my shoulders, and waited to catch enough breath to speak.
"Can you ever doubt my love for you?" he asked. "No more than I can doubt my own for you."
"Good. Then let there be no more talk of resisting."
I curled up in the warm nook of his arm and listened as he described what it was like for him anticipating our rendezvous, planning it around his father's trip.
"We were so busy, I didn't know when we would be able to get back here, but my father was almost as anxious as I was."
"No one will miss you at home when they see you haven't returned with him?" I asked, meaning his wife.
"I'm on a business trip as far as anyone knows. It's not uncommon for me to do that, but I think my father has some suspicions."
"What will he do?" I asked, a bit frightened.
"Nothing. He isn't looking for any more unpleasantness. Despite the way he behaves with his friends, he is a very unhappy man these days. First, there is my brother Jean, as I told you, and second, there's . ."
"What?" I asked when he hesitated.
"My wife's failure to be with child. He's been hoping for grandchildren. He's very disappointed."
"Is there no hope that your brother will someday recuperate?"
"No. The doctors believe the damage was permanent. He may improve enough to take care of his basic needs, but he'll never be the man he was," Pierre said, and sat up quickly. "I blame myself," he added.
I put my hand on his back. "Why? If you were caught in a storm . ."
"I should have never gone out with him. If I hadn't, if I had listened to my own warnings and not let him taunt me into it, he would be fine today."
"But he was a good sailor, wasn't he? He should have known, too."
"Jean was always challenging me to be like him. I think that ego of his got the best of him. I should have restrained him. I'm older, wiser," he said.
"But you're a man, and every man has ego. I'm sure(r)"
"No," he said sharply. "It was my fault," he said firmly. "I've got to learn to live with that, but more importantly, I've got to find a way to br
ing my father some happiness before he dies. I try. I do the best I can with our businesses, but it's never enough. My father is a very demanding person, you see.
"But," he said suddenly, turning back to me and smiling, "let's not talk about my family problems. Let's just talk about us.
"Let us make a pledge to one another. Let us pledge to care only about our own bliss and not think about the consequences of anything we do together as long as we do it out of love and for each other."
"It sounds like a very selfish pledge," I said.
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