A Silken Thread Part 7
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The proper thing to do was to ask him to join her, since she felt bad being caught in a lie. "If you continue to stand I'm going to get a crook in my neck looking up at you," she said in a teasing tone, trying to make light of the situation she had backed herself into. "Would you like to join me?"
He nodded. "Yes," he said, pulling out a chair and taking it.
She leaned back and crossed her legs. "How long have you been in here?"
He seemed to have studied her movement and his gaze moved from her legs up to her face. "Awhile. I saw you when you walked in."
"Why didn't you let me know you were here?"
He shrugged. "I figured you would prefer it that way."
Because of what she'd said earlier when he'd invited her to dinner. There was nothing she could say...but that didn't mean she shouldn't try.
"Wilson, I-"
"There's no need to explain, Rita."
She was quiet for a long moment as she thought about what he'd said. No, there was no need to explain. But she felt she needed to anyway.
"You're married."
If he found that statement odd he didn't show it. "Yes, I am married."
She released a shuddering breath. Not that he needed to confirm such a thing, but for some reason she needed to make sure his marital status was out there, planted firmly in both of their minds.
"And I have never been unfaithful to my wife during the entire thirty years of our marriage."
She nodded. That was good to hear. Had he said that to let her know that-although there might be some crazy vibes still flowing between them, vibes that seemed more heated now than earlier-he was a happily married man? For some reason she doubted the happily married part. Her aunt Grace had once told her that being married meant more than sharing names on a marriage certificate. It meant being one with the other. As she had been with Patrick.
Remembering the man she had loved deeply made her take another sip of her wine and she couldn't help noticing her gla.s.s was almost empty. Her server had already noticed before she had and he was back refilling her gla.s.s. She should tell him she'd had enough, but decided not to do so.
The man then turned to Wilson. "Sir, would you like a refill?"
"Yes."
"And will you be joining the madam here?"
He gave her a quick glance before returning his attention back to the server and saying, "Yes."
The server then quickly moved away and they were alone again. Wilson's gaze reclaimed hers. "Now, you were saying..."
She managed a shrug, not sure she was capable of saying anything. She took a sip of her wine. "Nothing. I think you've said it all, Wilson."
He chuckled, and the rich, husky sound was something to be admired. Really it was. There was something so invigorating about him. She thought that Karen Sanders was a very lucky woman and wondered if she knew that.
"Have you been enjoying the music?" he asked her.
"Yes, very much so. I've always enjoyed good music and was trying to compare this club with one back home."
A smile touched his lips. "The music is somewhat different, although I've always been a fan of Lars Gullin and the Swedish jazz sound. The man was one h.e.l.l of a saxophone player."
"Yes, I know."
At the slow lifting of his brow she smiled and said, "I was an army brat and traveled around the world a lot. Although I never lived in Sweden, I did live for a while in Liverpool. The Swedish jazz sound was pretty big there."
Their conversation paused when the server returned with Wilson's drink. Moments later the musicians took the stage again and Rita became absorbed in her surroundings and the music. At least she tried to become absorbed in them. Neither could compete with the man sitting at her table. The man who-whether she wanted it or not-couldn't help but claim every bit of her attention.
"Do you think we'll get to fly out tomorrow?" she decided to ask, for lack of anything better to say at the moment.
"Yes. Are you getting homesick already?"
She smiled and was reminded of why she had liked him. He hadn't asked with ridicule in his tone. Although it was quite obvious that a man in his profession would be used to giving orders instead of taking them, she felt he could still reach down and converse genuinely on a personal level.
"Yes, I can admit I am homesick in a way. I talked to Brian earlier, to let him know my flight was being delayed, and he happened to be on his way to the airport to pick up Erica."
Wilson raised a surprised brow. "I thought she wasn't flying to Dallas until the weekend."
"I guess she changed her mind." Rita smiled. "She's a woman, she has a right to do that, you know."
He chuckled. "Trust me, I know."
She didn't say anything for a moment and then a question came to her mind. "What hotel did your airline put you up in?"
"The Hilton. What about you?"
Rita pulled in a deep breath. "The same one."
"Oh."
He'd spoken that one word and she couldn't tell if it was a good oh, oh, or a bad or a bad oh. oh.
As for her, either way, she needed to prepare herself for the walk back to the hotel room, since she had a darn good feeling they would be sharing it.
Wilson glanced over at the woman walking by his side, grateful for the fresh night air. He needed to clear his head for more reasons than one. Although he wasn't drunk by any means, he still had imbibed more scotch tonight than he had in a long time. However, instead of it dulling his senses, he felt they were sharper than ever. And that had everything to do with Rita.
He glanced up at the sky, saw the stars and the full moon, and for a while he thought the piano music he'd heard tonight wasn't the only magical thing around here. The night held some wonders of its own and he felt good being here. Especially while walking beside Rita, sharing her s.p.a.ce.
Tomorrow they would fly out, go their separate ways, and their paths wouldn't cross again until the day of their offspring's wedding. He smiled just thinking about it.
"What's the smile for?"
He glanced over at her. "I was just thinking about Brian and Erica's wedding."
She smiled, as well. "It won't be long now and I promise to look after her when she moves to Dallas."
He nodded. "I appreciate that. Karen still isn't happy about her moving away from Hattersville."
"But you don't have a problem with it?"
"No, not a one. I think Brian is a fine young man and it's her place to be with her husband." Just like he knew it was his place to be with his wife, although lately he had begun wondering why. He had called her earlier to let her know his flight was delayed and she hadn't even asked him why. She rushed him off the phone saying she was on her way out and didn't have time for idle chitchat. When it came to him she'd never had time for anything. And for years he'd let her get away with it. She had conveniently placed him on a shelf and he had stayed there. Tonight he realized how it would be to spend time with a woman, if for nothing more than to share a drink and some music. He and Karen did share after-dinner drinks, but it was only to give her a chance to unwind and talk about the people she felt were beneath her.
When they entered the hotel lobby Rita slowed her pace. "Thanks for the walk. I needed it."
"So did I."
She stopped walking. "This is where we need to say good-night and good-bye until August."
He leaned forward and smiled. "Do you honestly think I'll leave you on your own to get to your room?"
She decided not to argue. "Fine. I'm on the fifth floor," she said, and began walking toward the bank of elevators.
Other couples were around and got onto the elevator with them. The ride up to the fifth floor was short. Done in silence. There wasn't anything to say as they stood beside each other in the cramped quarters.
When they reached her floor and the doors swooshed open, they both stepped out. He glanced over at her thinking he didn't regret anything about tonight. He had enjoyed sitting at the table sharing drinks with her while they listened to the jazz, and he appreciated the conversation. He liked hearing her talk. She had a soft voice, the kind he could probably listen to for hours on end and not get tired of hearing.
And he had liked glancing across the table at her when she didn't know he was looking. When he should not have been looking. He didn't have the right, but he had done so anyway. And his chest had thumped deeply each time she had smiled with enjoyment when the band ended one number and began another.
He couldn't help but wonder if what his brother had claimed all these years was true. Did every living human being have a soul mate? A person so attuned to another person that loving them, wanting to be with them, was just as vital as eating and breathing? At the moment he didn't know. He truly couldn't imagine such a thing.
He began looking straight ahead down the long, seemingly endless hallway, counting the doors they pa.s.sed on their way to hers. When they reached their destination, he would say good-bye, tell her that he hoped she had a safe flight home and then turn to leave. Simple. Yet for him, for some reason it would be hard. Whatever time they had shared over the past twelve hours would be just a memory. A memory she might eventually banish from her mind, though he doubted he ever would.
"Thank you for walking me to my door," she said when she came to a stop.
He halted his steps as well and glanced at her, saw her smile and at that moment his breath was nearly s.n.a.t.c.hed right from his lungs. What was happening to him? Why was his heart beating so fast? What were these emotions that were surging inside of him and rapidly consuming him?
"Don't mention it," he heard himself say. "Have a safe flight back and hug that daughter of mine when you see her, will you?"
She chuckled as her face lit up, and the sound flitted through parts of his body. "Of course I will. You know, Wilson, you're a good father."
"I've always tried to be." He paused a moment then said, "Good-bye, Rita."
"Good-bye, Wilson." She then used her pa.s.s key to unlock the door and he began to walk off.
He told himself to keep walking and not look back, and could attribute a number of things to the reason he suddenly stopped. It could have been the absence of the sound of the door opening and closing shut behind her, or the need to see her one last time even if it was just a glimpse of her fleeing back.
But when he turned, what he saw gave him pause. Had him groaning silently. Rita was looking directly at him and there was a need he saw in the depths of her eyes that probably matched his own. A need that was twenty years in the making for him. The smile was gone and the intense look shaping her mouth and the longing in the deep set of her gaze almost froze him in place.
And when she whispered his name in a soundless plea, one he would not have heard had he not seen her lips move, he began slowly walking back to her, not sure what he would do when he reached her.
That uncertainty was taken out of his hands and instinctively he pulled her into his arms and lowered his head. Taking her mouth was probably the easiest thing he'd ever done. And the tastiest. Their tongues tangled, dueled and intimately connected.
He leaned against the door and found it ajar, so without breaking the kiss he eased them both inside and closed the door behind them with his heel. Something flared through him, something he hadn't felt in years, if ever. He was downright dizzy with pa.s.sion. Hunger for her gnawed in the pit of his stomach, cutting a quick path to his groin.
He was fifty-nine years old, for heaven's sake. Where did all this greed and fire come from? All this animal l.u.s.t? And why was it coming out in full blast for this woman? He didn't have time to dwell on those questions when he felt the back of his legs touch the bed. It was only then that he pulled his mouth from hers, so they could both breathe.
He needed to slow down, savor the moments, relish every second he had with her, but a part of him didn't want to take things slow. First thing he needed to do was speak words to make her understand something and hope she believed him.
Wilson reached out and caressed her cheek with the back of his hand. Her skin was soft and smooth to the touch. His touch. "I never meant for this to happen, Rita. I tried to fight wanting you and it did no good. I need you." He heard the crackle in his voice and knew he was a man who'd been pushed over the edge. He had gone over twenty years without a woman, yet tonight, now, he felt he needed her with an intensity that had every part of him literally shaking inside.
And then he lowered his mouth to hers again, not wanting to give her the chance to think too deeply. Just to accept things as they were now. He decided not to question anything, just act on it. Pulsing heat began racing through his body when he began removing her clothes as well as his own, not stopping to think. As tension p.r.i.c.ked at his nerve endings, he could tell she was pushed over the same edge as he was.
When they were both naked together they tumbled back on the bed. He had known the instant she'd opened her arms to him outside that door that they would end up here. He gazed down and saw the most gorgeous naked female body. A woman whose b.r.e.a.s.t.s could probably still rival a woman's half her age. Whose legs were slightly parted, open for him.
He couldn't contain himself when he s.h.i.+fted positions and lowered his head to her belly and placed a kiss there. Why he'd wanted to do that he wasn't sure but the moment he did so he felt a need to enjoy other parts of her below the waist.
So he did and kissed a trail down to the apex of her thighs. When he flicked a quick lick across her womanly folds before using his fingers to slide them open, he heard a moan from deep within her throat. He didn't need any other encouragement or approval to go further.
His hands slid down her thighs and lifted her hips to his mouth. He hadn't done this to a woman in over twenty years but his tongue seemed hot, greedy and ready for the opportunity to get back in circulation. And the instant it slid inside her feminine charms, he went after her with a voracity and need that he knew neither of them had been prepared for.
She continued to moan as she grabbed hold of his head to keep it in place, opening her legs wider and lifting her hips to his mouth for a more concentrated penetration of his tongue. Her hips began moving instinctively against his mouth and he continued to savor her with an all-consuming ardor.
"Wilson!"
His name became a whimpering moan off her lips and he felt the moment her body bucked into an o.r.g.a.s.m. He kept his tongue planted inside of her and continued to feed his longing and enjoy this intimate time with her.
Moments later when he s.h.i.+fted upward and met her gaze he lowered his body in place over hers. She stared back at him through glazed eyes and he felt something besides l.u.s.t jolt inside of him. Not wanting to question what it was, he leaned forward and kissed her mouth, needing the connection.
s.e.xual need, to a degree he hadn't known could exist until tonight, rushed through him and at that moment he needed her with a ferociousness that was overwhelming, near blinding. Without preamble he slid inside of her. The body enveloping him felt tight, incredibly feminine, and when he eased his mouth away from her to stare down at her, there was something else he felt. A sense of belonging.
And when her inner muscles began clenching him, he started to move, to thrust inside of her, stroke her with everything he had. He drove them to the edge then snapped them away before they could take a plunge.
The respite didn't last long. When he felt her legs tighten around him and she deeply moaned his name, he thrust one last time. They both exploded into a fiery ball of sensations that shook everything inside of him and had them both gasping for breath. They were overcome with unadulterated pleasure, intense heat and an obliteration of all thoughts but this one. The one centered on them and their needs.
Wilson threw his head back and sucked into his nostrils a scent that was uniquely hers. He released the deep breath and drew her closer into his arms, as he remained inside her.
It was only later when he had no more strength left that he managed to s.h.i.+ft positions to hold her. Somehow he worked their bodies beneath the covers and held her in his arms while they slept.
The ringing of the telephone woke up Wilson. It took him a few moments to remember he wasn't in his own hotel room but was in Rita's. When she didn't answer the phone he opened his eyes and glanced around. Sunlight was coming through the window denoting another day.
The bed was empty. He picked up the phone, saw it was a wake-up call and hung up. Thinking Rita had gone to the bathroom he waited a while before realizing he was in the room alone and she was gone and wouldn't be back.
Ah, h.e.l.l. He had an idea what that meant. The reason she had skipped out on him, why she'd left without saying good-bye. Maybe he should be feeling some of that same remorse about what they'd done last night, but he didn't. He could truly say that his and Karen's marriage had ended years ago and the connection they shared now was on paper only. Last night had proven just how empty his marriage was, and how it would feel to be with a woman he enjoyed spending time with. He had an idea what that meant. The reason she had skipped out on him, why she'd left without saying good-bye. Maybe he should be feeling some of that same remorse about what they'd done last night, but he didn't. He could truly say that his and Karen's marriage had ended years ago and the connection they shared now was on paper only. Last night had proven just how empty his marriage was, and how it would feel to be with a woman he enjoyed spending time with.
He slid out of bed. He didn't even have Rita's cell phone number to call her. He must have been sleeping pretty d.a.m.n hard for her to get out of bed and pack without waking him. But when a man had experienced the best lovemaking of his life, after his mind, body and senses had exploded the way they had, it was a wonder he could still see straight.
He knew what he had to do when he returned to Hattersville. He would ask Karen for a divorce, which was something he should have done years ago. His daughter had taken control of her own life and now he needed to follow her example and take control of his.
A Silken Thread Part 7
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A Silken Thread Part 7 summary
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