Amply Rewarded (15 page)

I undid her chef’s shirt buttons, which was quite a complex task in the heat of that moment. She watched me the whole time and her stare was intimidating. She wore a white undershirt, which she wanted to keep on. Whatever she wanted, was my only thought. I moved off her for a moment so that I could unzip her jeans. She moaned at this and helped me to pull them off. She pulled off the boxer shorts she wore and I marvelled at how intensely sexual she was, despite all her efforts to eschew my earlier advances. There is something hot about a woman wearing men’s underwear. It’s that simple. I was completely smitten with the sight.

I wanted to give her what she had given me, so I knelt next to her and mimicked her moves. I placed my finger by her opening but she stopped me, shaking her head.

“Not like that,” she said.

“Then how?”

She grabbed my hair again and pulled my very willing lips to her pussy. She was even wetter than me, and, as soon as I felt the softness of her skin on my mouth combined with her firm grip on my hair, I became hyper-aroused, incapable of even stopping myself. Her clitoris hardened and she moaned and gasped. I wanted to stay there forever. I wanted to feel her orgasm against my lips. But it wasn’t about what I wanted.

She pulled me away and reached into her drawer. She pulled out a purple dildo shaped like a cock. She also had a harness, which she put on. Then she strapped the cock onto herself. I was floored at the sight. Then she turned me onto my knees. I pulled at her pillows and placed them underneath me. Then I grabbed on to the edge of her mattress, anxious to feel her enter me.

Gripping my hips firmly, as she had when we were in the kitchen, she carefully nudged her cock inside me. I was thrilled at the foreignness and familiarity as her massive presence made me moan again. She grabbed both of my shoulders and I arched my back, securing myself literally as her pedestal, balancing both our foundations. She thrust deeper and deeper into me and became more and more tense. I loved hearing her shortness of breath and feeling her stern hold on my hips and ass. I was still so sensitive from our previous encounter and her thrusting sent me over the top once more. I’m not convinced that I would have come if it hadn’t been for how extraordinarily aroused I became at the idea of her orgasm. Building closer and closer to it, she held me tighter and tighter and finally let out a roar of a moan, which my body had no choice but to follow. My sensitive clit gave way to yet another exaggerated explosion of an orgasm as we both moaned and cried and screamed in harmony for what felt like an eternity.

She crashed on top of me, her still-hard rubber cock sliding gently out of my more than satisfied cunt. She eased herself beside me and lay next to me, stroking my skin peacefully. I had not expected to see this side of her, but I was pleasantly surprised by her gentleness.

Her face was flushed and sweat still poured from her brow as she smiled at me. “Thanks,” she said. “I needed that.”

I didn’t say, “You’re welcome”—that would have been too strange. Instead, I stroked her cheek a little as we both drifted off into a light catnap. I was satisfied with myself for having won her over, but somehow it was mildly disappointing, in the sense that I had learned how much I wanted to explore her but, inevitably, we would have no future together. We were to dock in less than twenty-four hours and she’d go back to her solitary existence, and I’d go on to my life of indiscreet discretion.

We woke up several hours later, both feeling guilty, and jumped out of bed, got dressed and bolted to the kitchen. Hal had beaten us there, and was happily stirring a steaming pot of lobster bisque.

“I’m sorry, Mr Broughton,” Sam pleaded. I’d never heard her address Hal as anything other than Hal.

“Please. Please, Sam. Hal.” He stirred thoughtfully. “Jeez, you can fuck a man’s wife but you can’t call him by his first name?” he said, shocking us. His blushing revealed that we were not alone in our astonishment.

Sam obviously didn’t know what to say, so I said, “Pleasing a wife is hard to do, and this was one quality fuck, Hal. This woman deserves a promotion.”

Then I walked up to him and hugged him from behind, my messy hair still flying in all directions. I took the wooden spoon from him and stirred. He smiled at me and shook his head.

“I’ll see you outside on the deck, Hal.” I kissed his cheek in a proper, wife-like fashion.

He nodded and marched up to the deck.

“I think you’re right,” Sam said.

“About what?”

“You
will
be the last woman Hal ever brings on board the yacht. Nicely handled.”

I nodded. Then winked.

* * * *

Sam was much friendlier for the rest of that day. I didn’t know if it was because I had managed to thrill her, or because this was our last day on board her home. It didn’t much matter. I enjoyed every minute of it. That night, I slept in her room with her, lying pressed up against her with her arm around me. It was the perfect end to our perfect trip.

The next morning, when we were just hours from the marina, Timothy broke down. His wife had factored in my mind primarily as a source of leverage when he teased me. She had not been, in my consciousness, a whole, complicated person with a history of her own. I hardly even had a mental image of her.

Timothy smoked on the deck, looking out at the horizon, and I couldn’t help but feel a sombre desperation emanating from him that wasn’t usually there. He wasn’t crying in the usual sense, with tears. It was more like his whole body—his spirit—was crying and it was a difficult thing for me to see, after the way I had come to know him during the past week.

I stood beside him, not looking at him, because I felt as if he were ashamed of being so obvious about his feelings. I put my hand on his forearm.

“I married her to do the right thing.” He turned to me.

I hadn’t heard him speak of children, so I wondered what he meant.

“Right thing?” I repeated.

“Years ago,” he started. “She was pregnant. Her parents didn’t want me to marry her but they were even less fond of the idea of a bastard in the family.”

“I didn’t think you had kids.”

“She miscarried after the wedding.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m not. She would have been a terrible mother, and look at me. I’m not exactly model father material.”

“A kid could do worse, Timothy.”

“Anyway, her parents have always resented me for it, like I had planned it, you know? Like I had gotten her pregnant on purpose and then gotten her
un
pregnant on purpose.”

“And her?”

“Oh, she resents me every day of her life. I’m not the kind of man she was supposed to be with, if you know what I mean. She was supposed to wind up with a fellow like Hal, you know—someone of good breeding.”

“You’re pretty refined,” I offered, knowing that he’d feed me the same lie if need be.

“Oh, it’s not about that. Look at you. You’ve got the look, the manners. They’ll sniff it out on you, though. Aristocrats have noses for us intruders.”

“Like you, I guess,” I said. “How could you tell? About me, I mean?”

“You do belong, Julie. That’s the thing. The only obstacle is making them believe that you do.”

“How do you do that?”

“Lie. I mean, do what you did with Hal.”

I looked out at the ocean. The truth is that the only obstacle to feeling worthy is mindset. I was worlds away from where I had been born and where I’d grown up, and I could have spent my time trying to create a similar life to my parents’, but I had already decided that I wasn’t going to.

I thought about what they might think if they had been there with me at that moment. My mom wouldn’t have known how to behave. She’d never had anything come to her easily. Her whole life had been about settling for very little. In a way, I reasoned, it was her own fault for never having believed she was capable of more. My dad might have made something better for himself by now, but I had no intention of finding out. What would he have said to me now? Most fathers wouldn’t be proud of daughters like me, but I think my dad would have said I came upon my fortune honestly. He’d sold the best things he had—his labour, his management skills and his apples. He’d done okay. The bankruptcy hadn’t been his fault—the industry had been in steady decline and, in spite of having too many bills and not enough resources, he’d managed to leave a decent insurance policy. He’d been a decent provider for us. Idaho is a different world. People just don’t aim big the way they do elsewhere. It’s different. And people don’t grow up with a lot of property and generations of money, like Hal and his friends in Virginia.

My sister, on the other hand—I didn’t even dare to think what had become of her. Had she cashed the insurance cheque and left? Or had she and Tommy taken the plunge and salvaged the life my parents had wanted for her? Every time I thought to contact her, I remembered how utterly judgemental she was and thought of how intolerable she would find my life, and it made me too angry to consider finding her, though I couldn’t help but wonder what had become of her plan to marry Tommy.

I wondered what kind of family Timothy came from. I sort of figured they must have been something like my own clan, but as we stood on the deck, leaning out towards the vast ocean, it seemed like the wrong kind of question to ask. Besides, it didn’t much matter where he’d come from. It mattered more where he was going and how we were all going to deal with his wife.

“What’s her name?” I finally asked.

“Francine. Francine Jean.”

“Wow. It even rhymes.”

“Yeah. Everything in her life fits so perfectly together.”

“Except you, you big stud. I take it she doesn’t know about your philandering.”

“She knows about a couple of women. She has no idea about the men.”

“There were more?”

“Than Hal? Sure. Lots.” He smiled. “I was always careful. But, come on, why do you think I became a travelling businessman?”

“Good point. You know, I don’t even know what you do, Timothy.”

“Neither does my wife. It’s best that way, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Whatever you say. How do you think it’ll be to be around your wife and me and Hal? You think Hal will feel weird?”

“First off, if she thinks anything’s going on that shouldn’t be, she’ll assume it’s between you and me. I’m not worried about Hal because, once we’re on land, I think he’ll be dying to pretend like this never happened—until some cute gardener shows up on your veranda one morning while you’re out. You know what I mean.”

“And you? How will it be for you?”

“I don’t even think about that anymore. I’ve just got used to it. Her ways. Hal’s one lucky, lucky fellow. It takes quite a woman to be with a guy like Hal.”

“I don’t think you’re giving him enough credit. I really do love Hal, you know. And I’m proud of him for coming to terms with who he is. It might sound somewhat pretentious, given that I’ve known him for all of a month now, but I think it’s a beautiful thing that’s going on here.”

“Oh, to be so young and so wise.” He grinned.

“What do you mean?”

“You know what freedom is. My wife has no idea. And look at me. It’s too late for me.”

“It’s not, Timothy.”

“Okay, Pollyanna.”

“Well…”

“Well, what? You don’t get it. It’s been two decades. I’ve already put in my time with her parents, waiting for their inheritance, her telling me what to do all those years. She calls the shots, you know. The one with the money always does.”

“Not Hal.” I smiled.

“Don’t get cocky. It’s the worst mistake you can make. You think someone loves you for you. Hal needs you right now. If he doesn’t in the future, well, all I’m saying is, don’t get cocky.”

He pulled out a cigarette. “She even pays for these. Probably hopes I’m going to get cancer and die.”

“So why doesn’t she just divorce you, if you’re so worthless?”

“Because that’s not the way the world works. Think about it. Why would she? She can do everything she wants already. She likes to think she controls my life and the worst part is that she actually does. She loves it. Why would she change that? God, making me miserable brings her such joy.” He chuckled. “Crazy.”

Then he really laughed. It was the kind of desperate laughter that suggests all last resorts have already been taken. I was no longer doubtful that they had. Timothy had probably exhausted all options. For all I knew, he’d toyed with the idea of killing her for his inheritance. She’d probably had some kind of clause built into her will to protect herself from just such a misfortune. Yes, the man who stood in front of me was like a dog on a very familiar leash who knew exactly what he could and could not get away with. He wasn’t the big man I’d thought he was. He was a shell of what he could have been. I wouldn’t be like that, I told myself. I would never let Hal do that to me. It wouldn’t happen, anyway. It was the unfair disparity between being a pretty young woman and a middle-aged man. We were measured differently.

It was good for us to talk about these things. But talking is double-edged. Too much talking leads to friendship. Timothy was about to go back to his prison. All I could do was to give him a decent farewell.

“Forget about her. She’s still hours away. Don’t let her ruin your afternoon.” I grabbed his cock through his pants.

He jumped. I hadn’t ever been quite so forward, and it had started to seem inappropriate, the way our conversation was going.

“Oh, come on, Timothy. We’ll always be confidants, but who knows when we’ll get to be lovers again?”

“You’re incorrigible, Julie,” he said, shaking his head. Then he leaned in and kissed my neck. I loved that feeling.

He sat me up on the ledge of the deck. I opened my legs to make room for him in between them. It was perfect. The sun was beating down on us. The wind was in my hair. It was a little bit chilly—not chilly enough to be a deterrent, but chilly enough to make touching each other extra exciting and inviting. He unzipped my summer jacket. The breeze made my nipples immediately hard and he stared at them. Poor thing. This would be the last time he’d see them for a while, and I could feel him taking in the sight of them, the touch and feel of them. He was committing me to memory, like a soldier going off to war. For me, it was great. I love that kind of attention. If I hadn’t been so caught up in the moment, I could have taken on his nostalgia as well.